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The death of Bud Clark earlier this month at age 90 prompted a raft of reminiscences about the Portland tavern-keep turned mayor. Some of those memories could be found in our archives. (A 1984 profile of his underdog mayoral bid includes this gem: “Without blinking, he tells visitors to his house, ‘This was a whorehouse when we bought it.’”) We collected other stories—from his friends, allies and staff—in a roundup last week (“This Bud’s Forever,” Feb. 9). That triggered even more tales from our readers. Here are a few.
K.D. Cline, via wweek.com: “During Bud’s years as mayor, I was living in Northwest Portland and working downtown, and would sometimes see him bicycling to or from work. Often, as he approached, I would shout, ‘Good morning, Mr. Mayor!’ and he would always reply with an enthusiastic ‘Good morning, citizen!’ Bud made me proud to live and work in Portland, and is the only politician I have ever encountered that clearly cared more about the citizens he represented than the office he held.”
Virginia Levins-Kienle, via Facebook: “Bud was awesome, just a laid-back regular guy! Often saw him at the Oregon Symphony dressed in his overalls, there to support his wife. RIP.”
Alan Ryun, via Facebook: “I read this article and shared the news with my grandmother, a longtime Portland resident. She shared her immediate memories of Mayor Clark. ‘He used to paddleboard in the Willamette. You know, with a long stick. And he invited the police chief to breakfast at a little place in Multnomah Village…I think it was Fat City. And you know what? He fired his ass!’” [Editor’s note: Clark fired Chief Jim Davis at the Fat City Cafe in 1987.]
Gilberto DoPiento, via wweek.com: “When I was a young guy apprenticing as a carpenter after dropping out of Portland State, I worked for a builder that had a guy subbing for him who drove a Morgan roadster and poled his canoe all over the rivers and wetlands around the Portland area, circa 1970-’71. “That guy’s name was John Forstrom, and he was also involved with the Psychedelic Supermarket, Portland’s first real head shop. “He was also Bud Clark’s paddling/poling partner, and those guys were out there so far ahead of the time, exploring these wonderful waterways when very few were doing so in that manner.”
Kai Winding, via wweek.com: “Bud nearly died about 30-odd years ago when he severed a leg artery on a stick of sagebrush while rafting the South Fork of the Owyhee. Lucky for him they were not far from the remote 45 Ranch, which was being taken care of at the time by two Chileans who couldn’t speak English. By sheer luck the rafters found out they could radio for help from one little spot on the canyon rim. Helicopter rescue out of Boise arrived shortly thereafter and took Bud to the hospital in Boise. At the time, Bud thought he was a goner.”
Cascadia Report, via Twitter: “Growing up in Seattle, I was so jealous of Portland and its leaders. RIP.”
Fred Leonhardt, via email: “Back in the day, I followed him into the Capitol early one morning. As he entered the empty rotunda, he let out a loud whoop-whoop just to hear the echo.”
LETTERS to the editor must include the author’s street address and phone number for verification. Letters must be 250 or fewer words. Submit to: PO Box 10770, Portland, OR 97296 Email: mzusman@wweek.com
