The 'Mayor of Rust'

Another splash of good news from Pittsburgh, where daughter Simone has officially accepted a summer internship as a project manager with Allegheny County Economic Development, the lead economic and residential development agency serving 130 municipalities in western Pennsylvania.

She'll be in the office of Business and Community Development, doing project management in the areas of streetscape design, engineering and construction, vacant lot reclamation and real estate development, in addition to research, analysis and implementation of specific community initiatives in the Borough of Swissvale, a town of about 10,000.

I share in her excitement as she applies much of what she's learned in her first year at Carnegie Mellon to the real world.

Speaking of Carnegie Mellon and economic development, I remember Simone telling me about a recent guest speaker they had there in the school of management and public policy: John Fetterman, the mayor of Braddock, an old, dying Rust Belt community just 10 miles east of Pittsburgh. (Yes, that's the mayor in the above photo.)

Pittsburgh has won a lot of praise for its economic revitalization efforts in the post-steel era. Braddock, though, continues to suffer mightily. Recently, it too has received some positive press, primarily because of Fetterman, a Harvard-educated guy in biker boots who's championed land-banking and urban agriculture and recruited artists and young creatives in trying to breathe life into his adopted community, a place that's one-tenth the size of its peak population (about 21,000 in 1920) and today has a median household income barely above $18,000.

As a recent piece in the New York Times Sunday Magazine ("Mayor of Rust") makes clear, "Mayor John" has a formidable challenge. Author Sue Halpern caught up with him at last summer's Aspen Ideas Festival in Colorado.

It was four days into the weeklong festival, and Fetterman, a 41-year-old, 6-foot-8 white man with a shaved head, a fibrous black beard and tattoos up one arm and down the other, was presenting a slideshow about how art could bring social change to a town where one-third of its 2,671 residents, a majority of whom are African-American and female, live in poverty. Fetterman projected pictures of old, bustling Braddock, which  steel made until the middle of the 20th century and unmade throughout the rest. Its main street was packed with shoppers, its storefronts filled with wares. Then he turned to Braddock as it is today.

“We’ve lost 90 percent of our population and 90 percent of our buildings,” he said. “Ninety percent of our town is in a landfill. So we took a two-pronged approach. We created the first art gallery in the four-town region, with artists’ studios. We did public art installations. And, I don’t know if you consider it arts, exactly, but I consider growing organic vegetables in the shadow of a steel mill an art, and that has attracted homesteading.”

Fetterman displayed a picture of a furniture store, which the nonprofit he founded bought in 2009 for $15,000, and an abandoned church, which is being turned into a community center, and former building lots that are now green spaces, and an outdoor pizza oven, made with bricks from a demolished building, and a house belonging to two of the homesteaders who have moved to Braddock from “all over the country.”

“They bought this house for $4,300,” Fetterman told the crowd, “and put in a lot of sweat equity, and now it looks like something you’d see in a magazine.”

That glossy intro leads into a sobering discussion of various issues that stand as barriers to a quick turnaround. Not everyone in Braddock is fond of the new mayor and his ideas, and at least some of the criticism seems valid. It's a magazine article, so be prepared for a lengthy piece.

Related reading from the NY Times: "Braddock Journal -- Rock Bottom for  Decades, but Showing Signs of Life." 

Photograph by Gillian Laub for The New York Times

Myron Cope's Terrible Towel

If you were among the millions who watched the Super Bowl, you couldn't miss the "cheeseheads" rooting for the Packers or their rival fans twirling yellow towels to fire up the Steelers. I suppose there's a cool story behind people wearing a giant slice of cheese on their noggin, but that'll have to wait for another time.

I'm here to share the story behind "Myron Cope's Official Terrible Towel."

Simone and Kyndall gave me one for Christmas, officially welcoming me to Steeler Nation. I took it over to my brother-in-law's house today to watch the game, but it wasn't until the fourth quarter, when Pittsburgh was trying to rally, that it dawned on me that I didn't know squat about Myron Cope.

A quick look at the label confirmed it was made of 100 percent cotton and that it was "Hecho en China." (No surprise there.)

Next, I did a Google search for Myron Cope and discovered all sorts of interesting things. Of course, longtime Steeler fans would know all this but, hey...

-- Cope was the voice of the Steelers for 35 years and the first football announcer inducted into the National Radio Hall of Fame.
-- He was a Pittsburgh native and his given name was Myron Sidney Kopelman,
-- According to Wikipedia, "He was known for his distinctive, nasally voice with an identifiable Pittsburgh accent, idiosyncratic speech pattern, and a level of excitement rarely exhibited in the broadcast booth"
-- He'd use Yiddish phrases like "feh!" and "yoi!"and "double yoi!"
-- It was his idea, to build support for a 1975 playoff game against the Baltimore Colts, to urge fans to bring a black, gold or yellow dishtowel from home and wave them throughout.

And the best part?

"In 1996, Cope gave the rights to The Terrible Towel to the Allegheny Valley School in Coraopolis, Pennsylvania. The school provides care for more than 900 people with mental retardation and physical disabilities, including Cope's autistic son. Proceeds from the Terrible Towel have helped raise $3 million for the school."

How cool is that?

Cope retired in 2005 and died in 2008 at the age of 79.

The Steelers may have lost today's game but I'm pleased to say that, in death, Myron Cope picked up a new fan.

Photograph: wikipedia.org

That's our girl

Today our wonderful daughter turned 28. She's 2,200 miles away in Pittsburgh, so I can't give her a hug or share a birthday cake. But I can seize the occasion to note her latest academic honor and to join her in wishing the Stillers well.

(For those of you who aren't Yinzers, that would be the Steelers, who tomorrow will try to become the first NFL team to win seven Super Bowl championships.)

Yesterday, Carnegie Mellon University held its annual Network Pittsburgh event, where 300 employers, alumni and students interested in Pittsburgh and the surrounding area could come together for an opportunity to network. A highlight of the program was presentation of the prestigious Stephen M. Lauble Community Fellowship Award, given each year to one to three students in the Heinz College of  Public Policy & Management.

This year's sole recipient: Simone Daniela Rede.

The fellowship is given in the name of a Heinz alumnus and meant to encourage students in that graduate school to choose careers that contribute to the neighborhoods, economy and environment of Pittsburgh. Along with a nice stipend, the fellowship comes with the opportunity to do a summer internship with a government agency or nonprofit in Pittsburgh. The fellow's work can focus on urban renewal, historic preservation or some other area.

Best of all, it allows Simone and Kyndall to stay in their rented home in Pittsburgh for the summer rather than go through the cost and hassle of temporarily uprooting for an internship somewhere else. In accepting this fellowship, Simone had to withdraw from consideration from a different fellowship program that potentially could have placed her anywhere from Los Angeles to Chicago to Houston to New York or Washington, D.C.

I know Simone submitted a strong application essay and dazzling resume, but she left nothing to chance. When she met with the selection panel for an interview, she made sure to wear Black and Gold -- the Stillers' colors.

Wish we could have been there yesterday to see her receive the award. If and when Carnegie Mellon updates its Web site with her name, I'll add it to this post.

One more thing: Go Steelers!

New places, familiar faces

Amish Mennonites

Italian food in Amish Country? Yep. I was in eastern Iowa this past weekend for the annual board meeting of the Quill and Scroll Society, an honorary society for high school journalists that's based at the University of Iowa. We board members went out to dinner Saturday night and found ourselves in Kalona, 20 miles southwest of Iowa City, at an upscale restaurant called Tuscan Moon Grill. Kalona is the largest Amish community west of the Mississippi River and is known as the quilt capital of Iowa. En route to the restaurant, we passed a couple of families in traditional clothing and their horse-drawn buggies, which explained the road apples and pungent smell wafting into our car.

Who would have guessed I'd sit down to grilled scallops and shrimp, with garlic polenta and sauteed vegetables, washed down by a Sapporo beer in a place like that? (Especially when the place next door, the Kalona Bakery, was selling brats for $2.50 and and pork burgers for $3.50.) Believe me, it was the equal of any restaurant in Portland. Consider another Iowa stereotype busted for this West Coast boy.

Adjusting to Iowa City.  The following morning, I met with Inara Verzemnieks, a former staff writer at The Oregonian, for breakfast and conversation at the Bluebird Diner in Iowa City. I had the privilege of recruiting Inara to the newspaper, just a few months after she'd graduated from the University of Washington and completed a summer internship at The Washington Post. In the 14 years since, I have marveled at the reporter and elegant writer she has become. (She was a Pulitzer Prize finalist in Feature Writing in 2006.)

Inara took a buyout last year and, with husband Nick, moved to Iowa City this summer to pursue an  an M.F.A. in nonfiction writing, an English Department program that's separate from the Iowa Writers' Workshop. She's just begun the three-year program, but she thinks she'd like to teach, possibly at the community college level. I've seen her around high school students and other young people and I think she'd be marvelous in that role. Inara is fiercely intelligent and a woman whose emotions are never far from the surface, whether talking about a visit to Latvia to see relatives or the multiple adjustments she and Nick are making to their new life in Middle America.


Settling in to Pittsburgh. A week earlier, when I was in Pittsburgh, I reconnected with another young journalist with Oregon ties. Lori joined me as I met with Moriah Balingit for drinks at a bar in the Shadyside neighborhood. Moriah was a student at the University of Oregon when I met her, and she did an internship at The Oregonian in the spring of 2006, working out of a suburban bureau.

She landed an entry-level reporting job at the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette and has been there going on three years. She covers night cops, so she's got a brutal schedule working from 4 p.m. to midnight and beyond. She's originally from Sacramento, but seems to enjoy her new city -- the so-called Paris of Appalachia. Moriah has quickly become part of Steeler Nation, though she retains a passion for her Oregon Ducks (ranked No. 1 in the nation as of this writing!). Journalistically, she's had to adapt to the new media environment and now files a majority of her stories directly to the newspaper's web site -- par for the course these days, throughout the industry, when it comes to breaking news.

I'm glad I got to see these two friends and former colleagues. To see them fulfilling the promise they displayed as young journalists, while still in or barely out of college, is inspiring. To see them genuinely happy in their new environments, embracing new situations and challenges, is satisfying. And to know they are just two among the hundreds of aspiring journalists I've helped or encouraged, well, that's  immensely gratifying.

Photo credit: Kalona Historical Group Tours

Ladies of Lawrenceville

Kyndall and Simone

No description of our trip to Pittsburgh would be complete without mention of our gracious hosts -- the very people we came to see during our six-day five-night visit.

It was great to see Simone and Kyndall again, as well as their sweet little dog Quimby. By chance, Simone had minimal commitments at school -- a study group, some homework and preparation for an exam she took Tuesday, the day we left -- so she was able to join us much of the time as we ate meals out and toured the city. Kyndall picked us up at the airport, drove us around to different neighborhoods and rose early Tuesday to deliver us back to the airport before the sun even came up.

We spent our first full day with Kyndall, riding the Duquesne Incline, lunching at a hilltop restaurant with a spectacular view  of the Ohio River and its tributaries, and walking along East Carson Street in the South Side district, ending our trek at a Goodwill store where, shockingly, none of us purchased a thing.

Lori and I spent two nights in a residential hotel, two nights in a bed-and-breakfast and one night in between with Kyndall and Simone, which allowed us to get a glimpse of the real Pittsburgh, from a decidedly blue-collar perspective. They live in the Lawrenceville neighborhood, one block from the main thoroughfare, Butler Avenue, and a short walk from a neighborhood park where Quimby is a regular visitor.

Butler Avenue is the lifeblood of the neighborhood, offering a mix of taverns and pizza joints, new restaurants, art galleries and other businesses. The girls live in a two-story brick house, likely a hundred years or older, with a fenced backyard that leads to an alley. I'd describe their place as gritty but functional, with lots of natural light and a spacious kitchen. We met a handful of their friends and they seem like very nice folks.

On Saturday, we all went down to the Strip District, a collection of shops, restaurants and warehouses, where two days later Vice President Biden came to schmooze at Klavon's Ice Cream Parlor on behalf of a Democratic Senate candidate. On Sunday, we went to Arsenal Bowling Lanes, an old school bowling alley that was offering 50-cent hot dogs, 50-cent soft drinks and 50-cent games. Very cool.

Simone and Kyndall seem to be adjusting well to their new city. They will be in Pittsburgh for two years while Simone pursues her masters in public policy and management at Carnegie Mellon while also working a few hours a week at Pittsburgh Public Schools. Kyndall is being deliberate about looking for work and, in the meantime, is volunteering at a community radio station and some nonprofits.

As good as it was to see them, it will be even nicer to see them again in Portland. They will arrive in mid-December for a month-long stay between semesters. Based on what I saw, their time in Pittsburgh will be well spent and yield lots of fond memories. I've already come home with some fond memories of my own, thanks to our daughter and her wonderful partner.

Nine cool things about the Steel City

Fort Pitt Bridge and Downtown

Got back yesterday from six days in Pittsburgh (actually, more like 4 1/2 because of the roundtrip air travel) and, I've got to say, I was pretty impressed. The challenge now is how to condense all that sightseeing, culinary experiences and random observations into a single post.

I think a checklist is worth a shot, so here we go with nine cool things about the city:

1. The geography. Pittsburgh is defined by its three rivers -- the Allegheny from the northeast and the Monongahela from the southeast, together forming the Ohio River -- and its downtown area, known as the Golden Triangle. With its many bridges, hilly neighborhoods and thousands (millions?) of leafy trees, it resembles Portland, except that it's got more taller buildings.

2. The ethnic diversity. About 25 percent of the city's residents are African American. People of  German (19.7), Irish (15.8) and Italian (11.8) heritage account for sizable minorities. A far cry from Portland. The city also has a half-dozen universities, which draw significant numbers of international students. One neighborhood is called Polish Hill and it's next to Bloomfield, also known as Little Italy, which has parking meters painted red, white and green, in the colors of the Italian flag.

Sausages at The Strip

3. The neighborhoods. As in Portland, there's great variety. In addition to the two mentioned above, on the East End alone there's Lawrenceville, a working-class neighborhood undergoing an economic renaissance, similar to our Mississippi Avenue; Shadyside, an upscale area analogous to Laurelhurst; Squirrel Hill, home to the city's Jewish community; Oakland, where four universities create a student-centered business district; and the Strip District, a commercial/warehouse district at the end of historic Penn Avenue, with open-air vendors, restaurants and century-old family businesses, all reminiscent of San Francisco. There's also the South Side district, a gritty area of tattoo shops, thrift stores, dive bars and taverns, where late-night rumbles are common; and the North Side, home to various museums and professional sports fields.

4. The food. With little effort, we managed to gorge ourselves on Polish, Italian, Jewish, Japanese fusion and Thai cuisine and easily could have added Indian, French and Vietnamese if we'd wanted. Prices are lower and servers are just as, if not more, friendly than in Portland. You can have an elegant dinner with white tablecloth, an informal meal comprised of small plates or a monster sandwich from Primanti Brothers, where every sandwich on the menu is served on Italian bread with tomato, cole slaw and French fries stuffed in the middle. Unlike Portland, no food cart scene.

Photo credit: Chloester

5. The views. Riding the 133-year-old Duquesne Incline -- one of two remaining passenger lines of the city's 17 incline railways -- you get a fabulous view of the three rivers and downtown from Mount Washington (visualize yourself on Mount Tabor or Mount Scott). From the 36th floor of the Cathedral of Learning, the iconic 42-story landmark on the University of Pittsburgh campus, you get this fabulous view (above) of the Carnegie Museums and the Carnegie Mellon University campus. And from the ground level, I took a Sunday morning run across the 31st Street Bridge and found myself on the North Shore Trail, a shaded, gravel-and-dirt route bordering the Allegheny River that drew runners, walkers and bicyclists. I had to pause to admire the view of downtown and three bridges named for Roberto Clemente, Rachel Carson and Andy Warhol.

6. The universities. Imagine if Portland State, the University of Portland, Reed College and Lewis & Clark College were all situated along a single major boulevard. That's the Oakland district, stretching from Carlow University and Duquesne University (both Catholic universities) to the University of Pittsburgh and Carnegie Mellon University. Kind of like Boston-Cambridge, but on a smaller scale. Gives the city some young energy and intellectual heft. This week, yet another CMU alumnus was honored as a co-recipient of the Nobel Prize in Economics, making it 18 faculty members or graduates who've won the Nobel.

"Silver Clouds" / Warhol

7. The cultural life. We visited The Andy Warhol Museum and had a blast learning more about the life and work of Andrew Warhola (as he was known), a Pittsburgh native and Carnegie Tech graduate who went on to rock the art world with his pop art. Two days later, we indulged our senses of sight and smell as we toured the Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens, a steel and glass greenhouse which has operated since 1893 in the city's expansive Schenley Park. A roomful of exquisite orchids was worth the visit by itself. Had they been open and had we more time, we'd have hit the Carnegie Museums of Art, Science and Natural History, plus the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh, one of more than 2,500 free libraries built worldwide with money from the philanthropist Andrew Carnegie.

8. Steeler Nation. No doubt about it. This city loves its NFL football team. And who wouldn't? With six Super Bowl championships and a team whose nickname evokes the city's industrial history and blue-collar sensibilities, it's easy to see why civic pride runs so high. The Penguins, themselves winners of three National Hockey League championships, also are quite popular; it's not unusual to see a grandma wearing a 'Guins jersey. The Pirates? Despite their five World Series titles, they're a non-factor. Chalk it up to 18 consecutive losing seasons, including this year's 105 losses, worst in Major League Baseball. Too bad because they have one of the best parks in baseball. (Fun fact: Hall of Fame quarterbacks Johnny Unitas, Joe Namath, Joe Montana and Dan Marino all hail from the Pittsburgh area.)

Photo credit: MacYapper

9. Yinzers. Everybody's heard of "y'all" -- short for "you all" in Southern states. Bet you haven't heard the term "yinz." It means the same thing in Pittsburghese. Use of the second-person plural pronoun, according to Wikipedia, "has been interpreted as pejorative, indicating a lack of sophistication." In other words, if you're a local yokel and into everything that defines working-class Pittsburgh -- greasy food, bowling, smoking, tattoos, the Steelers -- you're a Yinzer.

Destination: Pittsburgh (part II)

Duquesne Incline

Three months and one day ago, my daughter and I hit the road to start a six-day, 2,600-mile road trip to Pittsburgh. The purpose then was to help move some of her possessions across country and arrive in time for Simone to begin a summer session class designed to refresh her math skills before launching graduate studies at Carnegie Mellon. (See my earlier post, "Destination: Pittsburgh")

Today, Lori and I will get up way before the crack of dawn to catch an early morning flight that will take us to the Steel City. The dual purpose of our trip? To visit Simone and her partner, Kyndall, of course. But also to belatedly celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary in a place that's new to us.

The buzz about Pittsburgh is pretty positive, with more and more people and publications proclaiming its similarity to Portland. Both are river cities with lots of bridges and both have attracted significant numbers of young creatives who have helped transformed the local culture and economy.

We'll be eager to see Simone and Kyndall's rental house in the Lawrenceville area of Pittsburgh, and reacquaint ourselves with Quimby, their rascally but lovable Chihuahua-Pug mix. We'll be on our own to see a lot of the sights, including city parks, museums and the Duquesne Incline, a 133-year-old tramway that's one of the city's top attractions.

Evidently, Simone has been very busy with school and her part-time internship with Pittsburgh Public Schools, so we'll take whatever time we can get with her and Kyndall.

Photograph: http://riid.tripod.com/inclines.html

Friendly faces in a foreign place

My previous post mentioned the young couple who welcomed Simone and me to Pittsburgh a week ago. Today is my chance to thank Leigh and JJ for everything: being great company at dinner, serving as tour guides and cultural interpreters; letting me crash at their cool apartment; and, most of all, providing a soft landing for our daughter as she gets her feet under her in a new city. A nicer couple you could not find -- friendly, funny and not an ounce of pretension.

What a bonus that the two of them have strong Oregon connections and, in fact, moved together from Portland two years ago so Leigh could pursue the exact same graduate program that Simone is just beginning at Carnegie Mellon. She completed her masters last month and graduated with the honor of a service award for her work in the community. JJ, meanwhile, is a graphic artist and two terms away from finishing his studies at the Art Institute of Pittsburgh.

Leigh grew up in the Beaverton area near Sunset High School, the same school our nieces and nephew attended. As a young girl, she moved to Australia when her mother remarried but returned to Portland for college (Lewis and Clark). She works for Carnegie Mellon and was in Portland last year representing CMU at a job fair or some type of informational/recruiting event. That's how she and Simone met and they hit it off immediately.

JJ grew up in Ashland, the youngest of seven (or is it eight?) children, and moved to Portland after high school. He's taken art classes here, too, and seems to be well occupied with a variety of projects there in Pittsburgh.

It's not much of a stretch to say the two of them typify the young, urban transplants who are helping to revitalize Pittsburgh. The city has been losing population for several years, but that's beginning to turn around as educated hipsters move there, drawn by the quality of life and budding economic opportunities. When I asked them at dinner where the young people are coming from, they answered as one: "Portland."

Leigh and JJ have graciously allowed Simone to live with them through the end of this month while she gets her bearings. As a dad, I really appreciate that. Happy news came this week when Simone told us she'd already found a place -- in Lawrenceville, no less, the very neighborhood where we had dinner and a place that The New York Times calls "a go-to destination."

Simone and Kyndall and their lovable dog Quimby (a Chihuahua/Pug mix who thinks she's God's gift) will have a two-bedroom house with a back yard to move into. Their looming challenge: repeating the 2,600 mile cross-country trip, this time in a U-Haul and with their little rascal of a dog.

A first take on Pittsburgh

OK, so I spent roughly 28 hours in Pittsburgh earlier this week, including the last two driving to the airport and waiting for my outbound flight to Portland. Is it possible to render anything but a superficial impression of a place, knowing you've seen just a tiny sliver of it? Of course not.

But, what the heck. Here goes:

-- It's greener than I expected. Simone and I drove in around noon Sunday and headed toward the downtown business district. We took a wrong bridge south but quickly righted ourselves and made our way to east Pittsburgh. As we drove along Forbes Avenue, past the concentration of universities (Duquesne, Pitt, Carnegie Mellon), we passed huge parks with lush lawns, well-maintained shrubbery and impressive stands of trees -- enough to rival Portland's urban canopy.

-- It's more compact than I imagined. Well, the east side, anyway. After a quick visit to Carnegie Mellon, we spent a couple hours driving around randomly just to get a glimpse of different areas. We got an eyeful -- everything from gorgeous homes on a hill to transitional neighborhoods to boarded-up rowhouses along sinister streets. You've got to expect to see the gritty along with the glamorous in any city. I was just mildly surprised that we so saw so much variety in such a relatively small space.

-- It's both more and less diverse than Portland. One in four Pittsburgh residents is African American, whereas blacks, Latinos and Asians account for about 7 percent each of Portland's population. Pittsburgh has large numbers of people with German, Irish, Italian and Polish ancestry and, in fact, has a Polish Hill neighborhood. Portland, meanwhile, has lots of Chinese and Vietnamese and growing numbers of Russian and African immigrants.

-- It's got a similar vibe to Portland. We saw plenty of bicyclists and runners the first day and, thanks to our hosts, Leigh and J.J. (more on them in a separate post), we ate dinner Sunday at a hip restaurant in the up-and-coming Lawrenceville neighborhood. Think of Portland's Mississippi and Alberta districts and you can picture what I'm talking about. Tattoos and microbrews. Lots of young people moving into refurbished homes and putting their creative talents into new businesses and art galleries. After dinner, we headed up to Schenley Park with some blankets and joined other 'Burghers for Cinema in the Park. (What a coincidence that they'd be showing "Coraline," the animated feature film done by Portland's Laika studio.)

-- It's got a thriving Jewish district. The Squirrel Hill neighborhood, home to Fred Rogers (yes, TV's Mister Rogers), is an appealing mix of residential and small retail shops, including Smallman's, an old-school deli/coffee shop reminiscent of Canter's in L.A.'s Fairfax District. We had sinfully delicious Reuben (with sauerkraut) and Rachel (with cole slaw) sandwiches for lunch Sunday. The next day, I had to chuckle as I walked past the neighborhood theatre. True to stereotype, it was showing the new Joan Rivers movie.

As I said goodbye to Simone at the airport, I left with a good feeling. I got the sense that people appreciate their parks and public transit as much as we do. And, based on a pre-dinner walk through the Park Place and Regent Square neighborhoods at the end of Forbes Avenue, I got a glimpse of middle-class homes, mostly two-story and made of brick, that suggested comfort, safety and community.

Photograph: View of downtown from Schenley Park.

Mission accomplished

We did it! On time, in style, with lots of music, laughs, conversation -- and memories to sustain us for a long, long time.

I refer, of course, to the Portland-to-Pittsburgh excursion. Simone and I covered the 2,600 miles in six days and five nights and it went smoother than I could have imagined. We rolled into town just before noon Sunday; Simone attended an orientation for her summer class the following morning; and I flew home that afternoon/evening. I had hoped to blog at the end of each day but that didn't happen. So the question now is how to recap the experience. One long post? Or a series of short, albeit after-the-fact, entries?

I can't imagine cramming everything into a single post but neither do I want to string things out. So here goes with an overview:

Day One: Portland to Boise, Idaho.
Best experience: Pulling off I-84 at La Grande and Baker City, two eastern Oregon communities I'd never seen before, and cruising through their retro downtowns.
Worst: Seeing the Columbia River National Scenic Area recede in the rearview mirror.
Surprise: The Basque Block in downtown Boise, a concentration of restaurants and stores dedicated to preserving the Basque culture in Idaho.

Day Two: Boise to Rawlins, Wyoming.
Best: A dozen downtown murals highlighting the history of Rawlins, an authentic cowboy town that straddles the Continental Divide. Also, a general store in Buford (elevation 8,000 feet; population 1).
Worst: The dreary landscape in eastern Idaho. Nothing but scrub brush from just outside Boise to the Utah border.
Surprise: Thai food for dinner in Rawlins. Seriously. The freshest vegetables we'd get for the whole trip.

Day Three: Rawlins to York, Nebraska.
Best: The friendliness of people in places like Rawlins (a cop who told us the story of Big Nose George, a 19th century horse thief who was lynched by a local mob) and Ogalalla, Nebraska (a waitress at the Front Street Steakhouse & Crystal Palace Saloon, with its faux frontier facade).
Worst: The Days Inn in York. A musty room and an indoor swimming pool so small you could take only two freestyle strokes and you'd be at the other end. And a continental breakfast so meager there was a handwritten sign next to the bagels that said, "Sorry. No jelly."
Surprise: Greenery in eastern Wyoming and western Nebraska, a welcome change from the bone-dry browns and grays of western Wyoming.

Day Four: York to Ottawa, Illinois.
Best: Crossing the mighty Mississippi, dividing Iowa and Illinois. Preceded by a fabulous lunch, served family-style, in a German restaurant in the Amana Colonies near Iowa City.
Worst: The apparent inability of some merchants to spell. Examples: A drive-through espresso stand advertised a "Jamican Me Crazy" coffee drink while a restaurant referred to its "pina colodas."
Surprise: The volume of corn grown in the Midwest. I swear, a photo from outer space would show the state of Iowa blanketed in the stuff.

Day Five: Ottawa to Cleveland, Ohio.
Best: A great deal on priceline.com that enabled us to stay in a 3-star hotel near Lake Erie and walk three blocks to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum (more on that in a separate post).
Worst: Toll roads and service plazas. From Illinois and Indiana to Ohio and Pennsylvania, you're paying for the privilege of driving on the freeway. All along the way, you've got these uninspiring plazas hawking fast food and tacky souvenirs instead of genuine roadside rest areas with picnic benches, shade trees and grass.
Surprise: Northern Indiana is so narrow that Simone powered through without me taking a turn at the wheel. Also, Indian food in Toledo. Tasty.

Day Six: Cleveland to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
Best: Getting there, safe and sound.
Worst: Not having enough time to fully explore the city's museums and parks. (Ah, but that's a reason to return, possibly as soon as this coming fall.)
Surprise: Pittsburgh seems to have just as many trees as Portland and boasts far more bridges -- 446, according to Wikipedia -- compared to the 12 major bridges here.

Random thoughts:
-- I'm grateful that we didn't have any issues with Simone's car or close calls on the road.
-- While the Midwest has a certain charm, with its preponderence of small towns, I can't imagine living there full-time. The differences in climate, culture and terrain are too great.
-- We covered so much ground one day that we realized we'd had breakfast in Nebraska, lunch in Iowa and dinner in Illinois.

Photograph: Just off I-80, somewhere between Rock Springs and Rawlins, Wyoming.

From Portland to Pittsburgh

The verdict is in -- and it's CMU.

That's Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh. And it's where Simone has decided to spend the next two years in pursuit of a masters degree in CMU's highly regarded Heinz College School of Public Policy and Management.

A generous scholarship offer, along with assurances of lots of individual attention in a cohort of about 80 students and a sense of adventure (not to mention a more affordable cost of living), combined to give CMU the nod over other prestigious schools including NYU and Columbia.

Simone signed her enrollment papers on Monday and today received an internship offer with the Pittsburgh Public Schools that will start in August. She'll begin classes July 12. Not a bad way to get started.

So, what is public policy? And what's so good about Carnegie Mellon that our daughter would choose it over those New York schools?

According to Wikipedia:

Most public policy programs combine elements of political science, economics, statistics, law, international relations, international development, public finance, ethics, sociology and public administration. Some schools also apply quantitative analysis, management information systems, organizational behavior, project management and operations research to the public sector.

Why CMU? Again, according to Wikipedia:

In the most recent US News and World Report Graduate School rankings, Heinz College's School of Public Policy & Management was ranked 10th overall among schools of public policy. The Heinz College has ranked in the top 10 since US News and World Report began ranking schools of public affairs in 1995. Of the 253 schools of public affairs across the nation that were surveyed, Heinz College ranked:

• 1st in Information and Technology Management;
• 4th in Public Policy Analysis;
• 10th in Environmental Policy and Management;
• 10th in Health Policy and Management.

Now, if your idea of Pittsburgh is smokestacks and Rust Belt, think again. Although the city has lost population in recent years (it's currently at about 312,000), the seven-county metro area has 2.4 million people, compared to metro Portland's 2.1 million residents, including about 550,000 in the city.

While Pittsburgh historically relied on steel, today the city's economy is largely based on health care, education, technology, robotics and financial services. Housing prices have remained fairly stable -- and considerably more affordable -- and the city has actually gained jobs during the recession.

Most telling, the city ranks high in annual quality-of-life surveys, even being named "America's Most Livable City" by Places Rated Almanac in 2007.

Most young people would have jumped at the chance to go to school in New York City. But Simone's already had the New York experience as an undergraduate, having attended Vassar College about 75 miles north of the city. I admire her willingness to go against the grain, banking on a lower student-to-faculty ratio and the proven quality of a top ten school in her field.

We're very proud and look forward to visiting once she and Kyndall (and their mischievous little dog, Quimby) get settled.

Photo montage (including CMU at upper right): Wikipedia

Ladies of Lawrenceville

No description of our Pittsburgh trip would be complete without mention of our gracious hosts -- and the reason for our visit in the first place.

Simone and Kyndall were great to be with. And so was their little dog, Quimby. Simone had only minimal obligations at school -- a study group, some homework and preparing for an exam Tuesday, the day we left -- so she was able to spend a fair amount of time with us as we ate, shopped and played during our six-day, five-night stay.

Kyndall was a near-constant companion, picking us up at the airport, driving us to different parts of the city and hanging out with us, and rising early Tuesday to deliver us back to the airport long before the sun rose. We especially enjoyed her company on our first day of touring, as we rode the Duquesne Incline, had lunch wiith a spectacular view of the Ohio River and its tributaries, and then walked along East Carson Street in the South Side district, ending our trek at a Goodwill store where -- shockingly -- none of us purchased anything.

Lori and I spent two nights in a hotel, two nights in a bed-and-breakfast and one night in between at Simone and Kyndall's place in the up-and-coming Lawrenceville neighborhood. During those 24 hours, we got a true glimpse of lfe in the city, from a decidedly blue-collar perspective. The girls live in a two-story brick house, with a fenced backyard, that I'd describe as gritty but functional. They are just a block from the main thoroughfare, Butler Avenue, and a short walk to the neighborhood park, where Quimby is a regular visitor. Along Butler, there is a mix of taverns and pizza joints, new restaurants and art galleries, and a smattering of other businesses.

On Saturday, we hung out in the Strip District, where two days later Vice President Biden did some campaigning for a local politician and schmoozed with folks at an ice cream store. On Sunday, we all went to Arsenal Lanes, an old-school bowling alley offering 50-cent hotdogs, 50-cent soft drinks and 50-cent games. Very cool.

Simone and Kyndall seem to be adjusting well to life in their new hometown. We met a handful of their friends and got a feel for their day-to-day life. They will be in Pittsburgh for two years as Simone pursues her masters in public policy and management while also working a few hours a week at Pittsburgh Public Schools. Kyndall is being deliberate in scouting out job opportunities and, in the meantime, is volunteering at a radio station and some nonprofits.

As good as it was to see them, it will be even nicer to have them home again. They'll arrive in mid-December for a month-long stay between semesters.