Portland Underground

I went to Portland for a family wedding a while ago.  Does this sound a bit familiar?  That's because I covered my astonishing powers of observation in this post here.

But wait, there’s more! For the low, low price of $0 (all you pay is separate shipping and handling), here is another story of shenanigans from Portland.

Did you know that there is a whole city located under the city of Portland?  A series of miles and miles of underground tunnels and areas stretch for over 5 miles under this city.  These “Shanghai Tunnels” are in the basements of the buildings and they connect to the other buildings through brick and stone archways.  This connects under the streets create a series of tunnels that get you from one side of the city to the other.  Or rather, they did, they don’t connect like that anymore (damnit!).  

These tunnels were used for...let’s say “unscrupulous individuals” who wanted to force men to work on ships and grabbed women to sell them into prostitution.  Crimpers (the name of the kidnappers) could make a pretty penny for supplying crews to ships. The practice of “Shanghaiing” is so named because men woke up on a ship at sea bound for Shanghai or the Orient in general.  On average it took these men over 5 years to get back to Portland, if they were able to survive that long under the harsh sailing conditions. For more information on this, and the tour I took click here

These tunnels have been featured on many haunted/ghost hunter shows and has had many reports of unexplainable tings being seen.  The promise of exploring a historical area, that is underneath an existing city, is a nice escape from the 90 degree weather, was involved in illegal activities, got me get away from from bickering family and the possibility of ghost hunting are a lure that I could not hope to be strong enough to resist.

I took all the pictures, but these pictures are used by permission of the Cascade Geographic Society/Portland Underground Tours, 2011 

All items featured in the tunnels have been found in the tunnels by the historical society that is excavating them.

Once you open the giant metal doors in the sidewalk, you walk down a steep steep staircase down into a long tunnel. You grab a flashlight and keep walking. Until you see this..

Yeah, that's a baby high chair.  That's just freaky

 This is the area when lit by regular bulbs

This is the area when the lights have been turned off.  That  light is a red bulb that is on to show what these passages looked like when you were using candles or lanterns.  It is DARK!

If you were doing something illegal, wouldn't you want to do it somewhere that people couldn't find you? Cue the tunnels!
This is an opium den, where people would pay for the bunks to lay in while they were chasing the dragon.  The top bunk was the least expensive, what with the chance you would fall off the bunk and hurt yourself. The bottom bunk was the most expensive and convenient.

Here is another shot of the opium den.  The stairs went up to one of the restaurant area alleys..easy access.  Already drunk? Now get high!

This is a picture of a chair and some tin cans...

Oh, you wanted more?  Fine.  This is a place where the people watching the "compelled laborers" would stay.  The cans are the alarm system.. If someone managed to get out,in the dark and not knowing where they were going, they would run into one of these.  Then the Shanghaiers would know were to find them.

These are miscellaneous artifacts found so far. Buckets, spoons, tools and more.

 

More alarms

This is one of the passages from one tunnel to another.  Usually a man with a chair and the alarms were somewhere near here.

I am neither a man or an alarm.

These are the shoes found in the tunnels.  If you were one of the lucky men "asked"to join a crew they took your shoes and threw you into a small, small cell with about 25 other men.

This is why they took your shoes.  If you managed to get out, and bypassed the alarm you would be walking on pieces of broken glass.  Glass covered the ground so you were crippled by shredded feet.

This is hard to see, but this is the inside of a cell. The cell holds one person and a chair.  More specifically, this is a cell where they would put women who were being sold into prostitution.  In the course of investigating this practice in the 1970's, one former crimper claimed he could break a woman of the idea of hope or escape in 8-12 hours.  

This is the same box.  Reports are that there is a smell of perfume in this area and the door to the cell opens on its own.

This is a coal chute...or maybe a convenient area to roll drunken men into the underground.  Either way, it was useful to someone.

Portland is one of the only cities known to have used "dead drops" as a frequent method of gathering able bodied men.  Imagine you're standing at a bar drinking and having a good time.  Suddenly the floor drops out from under you and you land in the basement on a stuffed mattress.  Congratulations, you have now been shanghaied.

No idea why these pics, and only these pics mind you, are blue.

This wooden Indian was also shanghaied by the crimper Joseph Kelly.  Apparently he had a deadline and could find no man that was as impressive a figure as this statue.  So he wrapped him up, told the captain he was unconscious and not to wake him up until they were waaaay out to sea.  Because of the impressive figure, the captain paid him the nice fee of $50 for this!

 

Because these tunnels are underneath the buildings above, these are pipes that the buildings need for modern convenience (water, sewer, etc...)  I'm so short, I fit under these with no problem.

More stairs to nowhere.  It is rumored that there were multiple layers underground.  Some went three or four layers down.

Once prohibition came about, what better place for an illegal bat than underground?  Then, add in some prostitutes.  All of this stuff was found underground.  The fan, the bed frame, the materials, the cups...all of it.  Plus you really only need one girl, cause she just says "Come around the corner" and then the men walk into some friendly neighborhood crimpers.

This place was fascinating and tragic.  To think that this practice was going on well into the 1900's this place makes you think about the things people are willing to do to make a buck.  

You want to know about ghosts?  Did something happen that I can't quite explain? Yes

 Did I see a ghost? No.  

But if you want to go ghost hunting, I'm game :)

Mousecapades

Today there will be a different format for the blog post.  My friend Bella Rachel and I went to a show. Then an odd thing happened to us after the show.  We have found though, in the course of telling this story, that our approaches to this adventure were vastly different.  Hence, this post is being told from both of our points of view.  And, because we are wordy, this long.

So get a drink and a snack and strap in....

To avoid confusion my pov is prefaced by EM and hers will be prefaced by BR
Ready?
Ok

Setting the scene:  We are alone, in a parking lot of a strip mall.  It is well after 10pm and there is really no one else about. Bella Rachel’s car was parked here during the show and so I have parked my car in the spot directly to the left of hers.

EM: After the show, but us, being us, we never just say goodnight and then leave.  We had to sit there and discuss everything and anything ranging from the show to …well anything.  I had pulled up next to her car, so that eventually when we decided it was time to go home, it was not very far to go.

As we were talking I saw some movement in the passenger seat behind Rachel’s head.  Totally forgetting that this was her car I said,” I think there is a dog in that car”.

Without even blinking she says, “There is no dog in that car.  That is my car”.

“Oh, that’s right,” I said thinking, “How funny that I forgot that I parked next to her car not even 10 minutes ago”..and we went back to talking. 

A few moments later I thought I saw some more movement and I said, “I swear something is moving in that car….I think you have a ghost”.

“What?” she exclaimed, “There is no ghost in my car”. 

“Well, something is moving in that car”.

“No”, she said patiently (and a little slowly as if I big words might be confusing), “It’s just the lights from the cars that are turning in and out of the parking lot”.

“Huh...that makes sense”, I said.

BR: Why is the logical next step from dog in the car, a ghost in the car? Do you see why I felt that big words might be a little difficult at the moment?

EM: While I concede that lights is most logical as an explanation, since you made it abundantly clear that there was no animal in your car, ghost was the next thing to pop in my mind.

Moving on….

We continue to talk and I see the movement again and this time I see that it is not a ghost or a dog; it is a mouse …in her car!

“Um…there is a mouse in your car”, I said slowly.  I was also trying hard not to let the smile in to the sound of my voice.  Cause, really?  How did this happen? And it’s hilarious (Said in sing song voice...go ahead, it’s fun)

“What?!?!?” she squeaked and turned around to see, probably holding out hope that I am lying.  And there is the mouse, stretching out in all his mousey glory, as he tried to see how tall he could get as he looked out the window of her car.

BR: It’s true. For a split second, I fully believed that EM was lying to me to fuck with me. I also deny that I “squeaked”.

EM:  She totally squeaked

Bella Rachel turns to me, with an accusatory stare and tone and says, “These kinds of things never happened to me before I met you!”

“What? I had nothing to do with this!” I said in disbelief.

“These kinds of things only happened to me AFTER I met you!”

“This is NOT my fault!” I said, in between giggles, but trying to look affronted at the implication that this is somehow my fault.

BR: I still believe that the mouse is EM’s fault. Before EM, no mice in my car. After EM, there is a mouse in my car. See the correlation? And you vehemently telling me that this was NOT your fault is decidedly unconvincing when you are giggling uncontrollably.

EM:  That is terrible logic.  

“There cannot be a mouse in my car!  I am afraid of mice”, she wailed, “So he can’t be in my car”. (best logic ever, I am afraid of it so it can’t be)

“Ok, then let us get him out of your car”, I said and opened my door, totally failing at trying not to giggle cause this sh*t was funny.

BR: I maintain that I neither wailed nor squeaked.

I did say, “I cannot drive my car with a mouse in it. If he stays there, we have to leave my car here and I will be coming home with you. Or, we can trade cars and I will return your car once mine no longer has a mouse in it.”
EM, not particularly liking either of those ideas, managed to stop laughing hysterically long enough to say, “Well, ok, give me your keys.” She proceeded to open all the doors to my car, in hopes that the mouse would scamper out of its own accord.

I, of course, could go nowhere near my car. I was the absolute picture of a distressed woman. 

Em: Complete picture of a distressed woman?  I’m glad no one in this post is being over dramatic  or anything.

BR: I’M over dramatic? Hi, Pot, my name is Kettle.

However, not all was lost! We are both married to manly men. Surely, one of them has an idea of how to remove said mouse from my car. Yes?

While EM called her husband, I texted mine. He had been imbibing throughout the evening and his most recent text said, “Are you coming home soon?” I responded with, “I would love to come home, but there’s a mouse in my car.” Now, my husband is well aware of my fear/hatred of mice. I expected an appropriately shocked response and an immediate inquiry into my mental state and well being. What I received, however, was “Oh noes!” Followed shortly by, “I promise it won’t crawl up your leg and bite you while you drive.”
…..
Yes, he said that. Fail on the husband front.

So, EM decides that leaving all of the doors open and blaring the radio is the best plan to scare the mouse out. Not having a better suggestion, I stood as far away from car as I possibly could while still being near it. As I continued to pace the area and restate that I could not possibly drive my car while there was a mouse in it, we waited for a few moments and nothing happened.

Finally, EM came up with a brilliant plan. We would turn off the radio, close up the car, and roll down the one window where this mouse had previously been spotted. We would then sit in her car and wait for the mouse to come to the window again.

At this point we were coming to terms with absurdity of our situation and began posting on Twitter and Facebook what we were going through. Suffice it to say, our friends were no more helpful than our husbands. 

EM thought to Google ways to get a mouse out of a car. Those suggestions were…kind of worthless.

EM: Google suggestions:  Get a cat, drown it in a bucket of water, cover something in peanut butter....

BR: The way you wrote those suggestions, it sounds like steps...

EM: Fine
Suggestion 1: Get a Cat
Suggestion 2: Drown it in a bucket of water
Suggestion 3:Cover something in peanut butter

BR: Love you!!!! :)

Anyway, we continued chatting and waiting for the mouse when, suddenly, the mouse appeared! EM was very helpful (insert sarcastic tone here) (EM: I was so helpful it isn’t even a joke!)at this point as she began using a sweet voice usually reserved for pets and tried to talk the mouse of the car, saying what a pretty and healthy mouse it was. I, being less concerned with the health of the mouse than with its whereabouts, was less than amused by her.

EM: So. True.  You were in fact, mean to the mouse.  She starts yelling at the mouse “Mouse (BR: expletive)!  You get out of my car!  Right! (BR: Expletive!) Now!”

The mouse failed to respond.  In fact, he gave us the mouse version of F-U and scampered away from the window and over to the drivers seat.  Bella Rachel, in her “picture of a distressed woman”pose, turns away from the window as she cannot bring herself to see what he has planned.  

The mouse then starts running back and forth across the dashboard (laps, what is this, a gym?) (BR: Yes, it was a full-service moving hotel) and I say “Do not turn around.”

Unable to do the very (small) thing I asked, she turns around to see the mouse stop in the middle of her dashboard and survey his mousey little kingdom.

“Mouse!  Get out of my car!” she yells (Thank goodness the parking lot was empty or people would have thought we had lost our minds) meanwhile I am saying (BR: in her syrupy sweet, kind voice), “Mouse, why are you making her mad?  Just get out of the car.  There are restaurants here, garbage cans, grocery stores and a sewer entrance...it’s like mouse heaven!”  

Now imagine us doing this at the same time, in the general direction of her car for about a full minute.

Then the mouse makes his way to the steering wheel, climbs on it and then does this:
This is the mouse...clearly, he was kind of a jerk

Her screaming at the mouse gets worse and I collapse into giggles.

BR: That’s cuz you’re a b*tch (sing-song voice...omg, you’re right, it IS fun)

EM: Why does it sound like F-U when you say it like that?

Then, a few minutes later the mouse is done congratulating himself on what an awesome mouse he is and decides he needs fresh air...at the window we left open for him.......and …...stops.  I am trying to coax him out into the awesomeness that is the outside of her car, in between giggling when Bella Rachel turns to me and says, “I don’t know who I hate more at this moment, you or the mouse”.

Luckily, the mouse then lost his footing and fell out of the car.  Scampering away into the darkness.

Excited that this is now over I say, “Yay! Drive safely! Let me know when you get home”.

Bella Rachel says, “We have to wait a few minutes”.

“For what?”

“In case he comes back”, she said in all seriousness.

Apparently he is the super spy of mice.

BR: Wait....when did we decide he likes opera??

EM: All spies like opera...duh

BR: Look, I know you’re making fun of me (and I’m crushed), but this was an important step. If I had gotten out of my car and into yours and during this process the mouse had hopped back into my car, I would have passed the F out. Also, right around this point is when a policeman drove by. We were both aggravated that he wasn’t around sooner (to help) and also glad he wasn’t around sooner (to declare us insane for yelling at a mouse).

EM: At some point you may have tried to grab his gun and shoot the damn mouse.

BR: Or, you.

EM:  No, no...definitely the mouse

After a sufficient amount of time has passed I am given permission to check her car for super sneaky mice that possibly might be trying to get back in the car (there were none) and after it was declared safe....She got into her car.

Where she found this note:

Wouldn't that have been amazing?!?!?!

BR: Remember that part where it sounded like I was saying F-U? That was a good part.

As a side note, this story fully defines our relationship in so many ways. a) we love to f*ck with each other as much as possible. b) it took us about two months to write this. c) one of the best parts of writing this was typing over each in google docs.

EM: That's cause “We’re awesome!”

BR: When you put it in quotes, it sounds less genuine. It’s a scientifical fact that we are awesome.

Oh!!! And, we named the mouse. We named him Anakin. Know why? Cuz I hate little Anakin. And I hate that super fluffy healthy mouse.

EM: But he was so fluffy and healthy he couldn't have been in our car very long...that is all I’m trying to say

BR: HE.WAS.IN.MY.CAR.

EM: I still maintain this wasn’t and could never be, my fault.

BR: It’s ok, I totally forgive you.

EM: For helping you when you were a “completely distressed woman”?

BR: …...sure. THAT. Quick question: what’s 2 + 2 (for large values of 2) = ?

EM: 5!

He's his what????

My husband and I went to Costco, a place where it is truly best if we stay together.  Unfortunately, I was immediately distracted by this.

Two televisions playing both Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back simultaneously?  There is no way I could resist watching them.  They even ended at the same time.

My husband was very happy about this development, not only did it mean he would know where I was the entire time, but that he could shop without restraint.

Which reminds me, anyone want some spicy pickle chips?  We have a tub of them...

Do I look like I work here?

Not long ago I was in Portland, Oregon for a family wedding.  I don't know about you, but sometimes, while I find family wonderful, I want to be off on my own and away from good meaning, if sometimes overly protective eyes.

On this trip I was the lone member of my immediate family, my parents, brother and husband having stayed in San Diego due to prior commitments and responsibilities.  This left me alone with my aunts, uncles and cousins.  I come form a large, loud family and everyone has an opinion and isn't afraid to share it.  I'm sure people love it when we role into town. 

It doesn't help that I am the only girl in a family of boys and therefore am sometimes subject to loving, if unnecessary, over protective instincts.  I have gone to Europe by myself, am married and own a home, but when with my family, I am 12.  So you can see how this could get a little cloying and claustrophobic.

It was one of the hottest days of the summer in Portland, well over 95 degrees, and our little family group had been wandering all over downtown in a large, loud bickering group.  Knowing that I had an appointment in 2 hours in the same area, I told them to explore the city without me, so that I wasn't late for my appointment (appointment was an adventure unto itself and will be posted about later).  Liberated, I used this as a chance to explore Portlands downtown and Chinatown area.

I wandered the blocks, happily ducking into little shops and chatting with people in coffee shops.  I crossed the street looking for a famous donut shop in the area and decided that I needed a break in the shade and I would call my Mom to fill her in on the day.  Finding a big block of shade on the block while looking down at my phone, I leaned against the wall under the awning and chatted with my Mom.

This block was packed as the line from this shop grew and grew.  I am a fan of donuts, but waiting in the hot sun for over an hour for a donut is just not something that I could bring myself to do.  I was telling my mom about this massive line when a gentleman walked up to me and handed me his drivers license.

Startled, and thinking "why is this guy handing this to me?' I looked up, smiled and gave it back, all the while never stopping the phone conversation.  A moment later another guy gave me his license and I said, "Cool, you're from Washington" and handed it back to him.

"What?", my Mom asked, because Washington was in no way the correct response to our conversation.

"Sorry Mom, its just that 2 guys have handed me their drivers licenses for no reason, so I handed them back.  The last one was from Washington."

"Why would they hand you their licenses?", she asked.

"No, idea", I replied, looking back down at the sidewalk.  I propped one foot up against the wall and noticed that the area near my foot had been painted like a castle or a wall.

"Huh, ok...tell me about whats happening with your aunt", my mom continued, unfazed by the odd conversational turn.

I started talking again when another guy walked by and handed me his license.  I looked at him, gave it back and then said,"Mom, I have to go. This keeps happening and I don't know why."

"Does the donut shop serve alcohol?", she asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," I replied as another guy handed me his license," I've got to go".

I handed the guy back his license, hung up with my Mom and looked to my left and my right.  Nothing looked odd and the donut line was still long, but the guys who had given me their licenses were not in the line. Disappearing into thin air seemed unlikely so, where did they go?

Remembering the castle like paint near my foot, I slowly walked out to the street to look at the awning I was standing under.  As the words came into view I slowly see an anime, Sailor Moon-like girl in a thong on a huge banner.  I realize that I am standing at an adult entertainment store!

Apparently I was standing directly in between these two landmarks

Apparently, I was being mistaken for the ID checker for this establishment.  I started giggling, because how in the world had I missed all this?  It was an old movie theatre converted into a an adult entertainment venue and I was completely oblivious. 

Maybe I need that family supervision after all.

Made of Awesome

You know what I love? When something unexpected happens. And that was probably the best description of my day today. Here is a list of the things that happened that I could never have predicted:

I tried alligator – it was fried and tasted a lot like (everybody with me ) “Chicken”!

Went to the theatre and got a pair of welding goggles (who doesn’t?)

Taught complete strangers how to do the "Time Warp" and then made them do it in front of the theatre

I met Dr. Horrible and got my hands on some Wonderflonium

Found the Top Secret Headquarters of the Evil League of Evil

I met a cute young guy who took me up to the rooftop party in a deathtrap of an elevator (I swore it was going to take us into the Twilight Zone like the Tower of Terror)

By the time we got to the roof I decided I loved him because:

He likes theatre

He loves Star Wars

He referenced the “Three Amigos” and “The Three Cabarellos”

He was a math/astrophysics major

He thought I was 26 ( I won’t lie, this gave him major points)

So I did the only normal thing, in the middle of the after party I got down on one knee and proposed to him (FYI: he said “yes” and I did tell him I was currently married)

We figured if we get married in a different state then it’ll be ok, right?

All in all, today was made of awesome...and to think, I have 4 more days of adventure coming up this week!

Challenge Accepted!

Um…yeah

I did it again

I said “yes” before getting all the info

I am doing the San Diego Fiji Water Scavenger Hunt! It sounds awesome, intriguing and scary all at the same time! For three hours my friend and I will be running around San Diego, participating in all sorts of crazy challenges all over the city!

What in the world will I be doing? No Idea

But here is how it worked in Chicago:
Up to 50 teams of two persons each will comb historic downtown Chicago looking for clues. (substitute in San Diego)

Each team will give themselves a team name and team profile. (we are the Comic Conzees – follow us on Twitter!)

Teams will be kayaking for a specific segment of their clue list! (No Kayaking in this event, thank goodness)

Teams will earn extra points for using social media in entertaining and creative ways.

Other than this brief bit of information, we are left to discover as the hunt unfolds!


So follow us on Twitter @sdtheaternews and @sdatlarge and wait for the crazy to begin….

I hate balloons : How I was outwitted by a mylar balloon

For the record, I hate balloons. If anyone ever asks “Hey, do you think EM would like a balloon?” say no. Always, unequivocally no

There are reasons for this, although to go into them would be long and boring so I shall not. But know that the mere sound of latex balloons being inflated, bumping into each other or otherwise existing sends shivers down my spine and makes me want to clamp my hands over my ears and run from the room. I HATE BALLOONS

So of course, I was asked to deliver balloons to a friends 2 year olds birthday party. And because I love said friend and her 2 year old I said what I always say, which is how these things always start “yes”.

So off I go with a bag full of deflated balloons (exactly how I like them) both mylar and latex alike.

I awake the day of the party and I am really really sick. I am coughing, I have a fever and I feel like I am going to die. The only thing I can do is take cold medicine (which makes me crazy and hyper and is another story) and try to live long enough to get the balloons inflated and delivered. Since I am sick and my thinking is impaired, I decide that while I am safely on the couch I need to devise a plan that will keep me as far away from the balloons as possible while I am delivering them. Since I do not drive a stretch version of anything I decide that the only thing I can do is put them in the trunk. But how will I get them in the trunk and shut them?

After walking around the car and looking at the trunk and trying to figure out how to cage the balloons (with a box I found in the trunk? I had a cape in the trunk, would that help? How about flip flops? no?) and realizing that there were way to many balloons for that to work I opted to open my back seat and feed the balloons into the trunk. Therefore they will be as far from me, and as sound proofed from me as possible while I drive.

I arrive at the store and ask the nice girl at the balloon counter to inflate the balloons and she informs me that she “not very good at this because she’s afraid of balloons”. Now, really? Why is she at this job? I know people need to work, but a job that scares you is just silly. But she seems to warily approach the balloons and gets to work. The first two Sam I Am mylar balloons seem resistant to being inflated. The stubbornly get only so full and then will go no farther. It’s like the refuse to fulfill their duty as a balloon (you know what is worse than a regular balloon? A slacker balloon)

Alas, it is realized that they had holes and physically cannot be inflated any larger than they were going (which was not much at all) and therefore were completely unworthy of being taken to the party. The third balloon inflated just fine and seemed oblivious to his overachievement.

Next comes a giant “2” mylar balloon which, as it was filled, we realized was much larger than originally believed. This will not now or ever fit in my trunk no matter how craftily I tried to ensnare it.

“Fine” I fumed, “I shall have this balloon in my backseat, but no more!”
Next were the 6 latex balloons, which all inflated just fine and were tied off with their ribbon.
Armed with the balloons I marched warily to the car and opened the back seat. I put in the giant 2 balloon and then put the Sam I am in the trunk. The wind kicked up and the 6 latex balloons seemed to happily bump into each other and with a panicked squeak I started feeding them faster into the trunk.

Somehow, this is when Sam decided to escape. This is also where I get confused. I was standing at the back door, I was feeding all the balloons into the trunk. How did he sneak out of the trunk, and the door I was in front of in order to float off into the sunshine? How much cold medicine had I had?

I realize Sam is floating away and I slam the door and futilely trying to jump, but the bottom of the ribbon stayed tantalizingly out of reach. Then Sam turns around and I SWEAR he turned just so he could watch me make a fool of myself in the shopping center parking lot while trying to catch him. The whole time he floated ever further away, he looked down at me as if to say “Catch me if you can”.

Stupid Sam I Am

Eventually the rest of the balloons made it to the party, but I know Sam is out there….gloating


Moral of the story? Balloons are smarter than me, so if you need one, hire a professional balloon wrangler