Designer Rack & Furniture Sale Ends April 28th

It’s spring and as expected we’ve received several new consignments during the last several weeks. We  expect another one or two that threaten to put us in tight quarters, so we’ve decided to thin a little.

It’s also a good time to remind you that we want men’s consignments of suits, shirts and shoes (no sport coats or slacks for the moment). Book your appointment here now.

The sale is 10% on our already reasonably priced designer clothing and 10% to 70% on furniture.  Starts today and ends Sunday!

Putting Morgan Away

In the African American community, paying your last respects is known as putting someone away.

Today we’re urged to refer to it as a celebration. But she was my friend. And it is my soul. So yesterday was the day we put Morgan away.

There was a quartet – the base and woodwind were in their 70’s, a slightly younger man who wore a black hat that reminded me of one Billy Joel might wear played piano. The female drummer’s plaid shirt and green khakis made her look like she had planned a day in the garden then decided to get together with the band instead.  And boy were they good. Like an old leather high back chair from the Olympic Hotel, down home goodness, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, mid-seventies not a cloud in the sky day good.

We, the near five hundred of us, heard a story of an ardent Husky fan; who loved her family; made friends easily; smiled always; listened patiently; worked hard; and showed her new born children off at work – on her way home after delivery.

There were long hugs, broken hearts, a sense of everything and nothing. A woman a row ahead of me cried the entire service as did a young man a row ahead of her.  There was laughter and no hymns were sung.  Her children conducted themselves in a way that would have made her proud.

She was a fierce Democrat but a Republican could have their say. She could not cook but would bring the bread. She didn’t try to make you her friend you were her friend. She sent flowers, celebrated her birthday for a week, and she never forgot – anything.

I wish you could have heard the laughter when her boyfriend told us about being surprised to know that she decided to attend a wedding reception of her ex-husbands, ex-sister in-laws, friends something or other.  We were already laughing pretty hard at the absurdity of it all when he revealed the party was in San Diego, and the laughter started all over again. And why did she want to go?  “Because she liked a good party and because you were there.”

He pointed both index fingers, looked into all our eyes at once and repeated the words quietly and slowly. “Because you were there.”

This was a woman of integrity; of honor; respect; of decency; faithfulness; love; laughter; consistency. She would dance with you, hold your hand, drive with the top down, take you for ice cream. I remembered one of the last times I saw her.  She came to give her son a ride home who worked for me briefly.  She came in, put her arm around my waist for what seemed to be a long time before she let go as if to say “it’s really, really good to see you today”.  Morgan.

No, this was no celebration. It was a putting away. It was the acknowledgement of an honorable legacy, an attempt at closure, a begrudging compromise but it was no celebration.

I drove home thinking that when I go I hope people would stop what they were doing and fly across the country to put me away.  I want there to be scotch and cigars in the parking lot, tears, sweet tender barbeque, deviled eggs, restless children and a quartet with a female drummer.  Yes, of course I know that kind of respect and admiration is earned.

I also know that the party in San Diego would not have been the same without her.

Morgan & The 520 Bridge

A few days ago a man driving the wrong way on the 520 killed a woman.

I do not know the man.

I did know the woman.

Her name is Morgan Williams and she was my friend.

I met her and her husband years ago through her cousin Barbara. It was the mid 80′s a time of disco, wide lapels, the Sonics were poised to win it all, and Peugeot had a presence in the U.S. It was a long time ago.

Morgan spoke (always) with a smile and with confidence. She was smart. Very smart and worked at Eddie Bauer for over thirty years. She was attractive. You could not help but look into her eyes when she spoke, or if she wasn’t speaking at all. She was unassuming preferring cords and baggy shirts over Ann Taylor and heels though she would do justice to either.

She normally took the bus to work, but drove that day because afterwards she had planned to drive to Montana to help a friend.

Shortly after I opened the store, I learned through Barbara that Morgan’s son Jon was looking for work. Our early customers will recall him as the tall handsome college graduate who worked with us. During our conversation about Jon, I asked about Morgan, was told that she was divorced and almost in the same breath that I should not entertain any thoughts about dating her. I think it went something like “You’re not dating my cousin”. Retribution would make Desert Storm look like a misunderstanding between old friends. My children were mentioned, and theirs too should they have any. So were the words parole, desecration, and eternity.

This was a warning that had apparently been issued to others though I really doubt it needed to be.  I had only been in her presence maybe four or five times, yet Barb knew my boyish secret, like others before me. It was all very innocent – like Morgan.

It was Barb who called me with the news and I thought she said “my mom is dead” but mom does not have an “r” in it.  “What?”. “Who?!” “What?!”

“Morgan”.

When our call ended almost ten minutes later I realized I’d said very little. Barb thought she’d lost our connection at one point “Wayne?” I’d picked a spot on the wall in our storeroom and was staring at it. “Yes, I’m here.”. Her tears were tired and came from a great depths. I did not want to know this place, so I stared.

I am a recovering alcoholic. I took my last drink over 20 years ago. I also have a degree in Chemical Dependency Counseling and have worked in the field. I understand addiction but I do not understand this. I do not understand this. I do NOT understand this. I do not understand this.

It’s 3:49 a.m., I’m tired, I’m hurt,  and I’ve run out of places on the wall to stare at.

In the next several days, we have several bays of the Paol Cadovius (Cado) wall system coming to the store.  This is a rare opportunity to get this timeless, sturdy and flexible wall system at a reasonable price.  It’s also very easy to install! Referring to the first photo, we installed this in the store in less than an hour.  Call us for details 206.363.6700

March Gladness Sale Event

This is one of only three major sale events we’ll do this year.  Save up to 40% or more off original prices!

Saturday & Sunday March 16th & 17th!