There's magic everywhere

T.A. Barnhart

Corvallis, sad to say, is a town in decline. Literally. The population is shrinking and, over the next ten years or so, the schools are likely to have far more seats than students. HP continues to cut back, and OSU cannot be considered an economic anchor. Timber plays a minor role; there's no industry to speak of. And good ol' Measure 37 is likely to gut whatever miniscule resources the county has left to pay for a sheriff or two.

Corvallis is, however, home to state and national champions, not to mention the Oscar-winning film maker whose newest hit has topped the box offices. Pretty cool stuff, unless you're looking for a decent job.

I've left Corvallis now after five years of surprise and happiness, not to mention struggle, frustration and near-tragedy. I'm happy to be back in the Portland area, the best city I've ever lived in, but reading Steve Duin's paean to the future of "Oregon" sports (The advent of magic in Oregon sports) reminds me how people in what I think of as my hometown need constant reminding of how far our state actually extends.

All the way to the borders.

Many might be surprised, but if you keep driving south past Eugene and Autzen Stadium, you are still in Oregon! If you leave a Beavers football game and go north of Reser about a mile, that neighborhood is part of Corvallis. Hell, you can drive all the way to the dry, flat area way down near Nevada — and that's still Oregon. It's nowhere near Portland, but it's still in the same state. Amazing. (FYI, Malheur and Harney counties.)

Like most Portlanders (and many in Eugene, Corvallis, Salem and the rest of the Willamette Valley), I didn't really consider those areas part of "my" Oregon. Grants Pass, a bit, because my mom was born and raised there; my sister was born in Roseburg, and we lived in Bend when I was little (not to mention Riddle fergawdsake), so they were sorta-kinda part of the state.

But not really.

Portland was my Oregon, the real Oregon, until I left and went to live in the podunk cowtown of Corvallis, a place I had lived over forty years earlier when my dad was getting his PhD (after his BS from UO). And boy, was I pissed to leave Portland. Corvallis? Cow-vallis? Jeez, the frikkin' freight train ran right down the middle of the street where I lived! This is a town?

But after a year of self-pity, and thanks to getting involved in the Dean campaign where I finally met some people, I began to pay attention to what was undeniably my home. And it turns out, Corvallis is a great place to live. I could even say that to a Portlander — and keep a straight face!

The secret, of course, was to become part of the community. To join in public life. I became active with the Dems, I went to school events, I started a Drinking Liberally chapter at Squirrel's Tavern, I co-founded "Friends of CHS Band" and was an active parent (got elected by other parents to the CHS Site Council), got elected to the First Alternative Co-op's Board of Directors, and I spent a lot of time walking around town and just enjoying being there.

I stopped resisting the fact that I lived in Corvallis and made it my home.

Now it helps that Corvallis is the New Eugene: liberal/progressive, clean, green, and full of intelligent people. In 2002, smack-dab in the middle of a terrible depression (that's about the only fitting term for the local economy at the time, and it hasn't improved much), the citizens of Corvallis voted to spend over $80 million dollars for a new high school, a new middle school, and major renovations on other schools. Why? Because it was necessary; Corvallis High School was a deathtrap (one good tremor and 2,000 squashed kiddies) and Highland Middle School was just a dump. That's the town I had moved to: Unafraid to do what was right (it passed overwhelmingly).

In my final year in Corvallis, and my younger son's last year in school, CHS won the state football championship in the new 5A division, suddenly ending most opposition to the OSAA's realignment. The Spartans also came close in boy's basketball, while over at Crescent Valley, their girls team was winning a swimming championship. And everyone knows the story of the OSU baseball team and Mike Riley's magic touch with the football team. Yes, Beavers basketball sucks, but the women's gymnastics team is still excellent.

There are some problems with a small town, of course. You need to go to Eugene or up to Portland for "culture;" there's a limited offering in a small town, with the occasional quality opportunity, but if you want the good stuff, you have to travel. The restaurants aren't bad, but without the kind of competition that a city like Portland boasts, even the better places in Corvallis can get away with second-rate offerings. Corvallis is ten miles off I5, which means most of the big stores are in Albany, not to mention Amtrak. And if you show up in town and need a job that pays rent, student loans, child support, and maybe the odd medical bill — good luck, Skippy. My best job in Corvallis was a temp job in Portland, and that meant a daily commute for four months.

I know my story would be much the same in many of the small towns around Oregon. There would be changes in details, of course. If I did head to the southeast, my progressive politics would be in the minority. But I wouldn't be alone, so it would just be a different dynamic, not an impossibility. The high school band might be smaller (hell, in Portland, it might not even exist). The restaurants and cultural offerings even more limited. But it would be Oregon, and it would be good.

Moving to Corvallis not only knocked me off my high-horse regarding Portland, it opened me up to what life has to offer. I became committed to progressive politics. I found a spiritual path. I learned to live without a car (albeit not without friends with cars). I discovered I could make a real difference. And I came to love and appreciate both the rest of the state where I was born and have now spent most of my life, and the city I have chosen as my home, Portland.

It's great that the Blazers got Oden and that OSU's baseball team is a two-time champ and that the Ducks have a real shot at the 2008 basketball title. But down in Jacksonville, they have a state champion (2A football). Over in Hermiston, the high school's drum corps is a two-time state champion. Matthew Markham, of Colton High School (just east of Molalla, where they kill school budgets for the fun of it), is the best low saxophone player in Oregon. Colton is also the state 3A/2A/1A champs in Drill. All over Oregon, kids — and adults, in local leagues, local politics, local clubs — are performing and participating, winning and falling just short, going nuts as they grab a championship and weeping as they watch someone else get that glory.

It's called life, and it happens at even the most extreme edge of our state. It happens in places nowhere near Portland, and that's a very good thing.

Hell, Riddle was second in baseball this year. Who knew they even played ball in Riddle? The people in Riddle, of course.

Now if we could just fix their damn voting behavior....

By T.A. Barnhart July 08, 2007