When I moved to Seattle in 1984, I landed my first job in the Pacific Northwest — as live-in staff at Sacred Heart Shelter on Queen Anne. The job paid little, but that didn’t matter a whole lot to me, because I’d fallen head over heels in love.
From the first moment I laid eyes on it, I was in love with Pike Place Market: the iconic red neon sign and clock face, the fishy smell that wafted up from the vendors tossing their wares and calling out like carnival barkers, the cobblestone streets, the palpable sense of history and, behind it all, the staggering, enduring Salish Sea. ...