All Posts in "Everything Else"

Lynn Di Nino was born in Roswell, New Mexico, one of five children raised by a single mother.  Di Nino and her siblings had minimal supervision, for their hard-working mother, receiving no financial assistance from any other source, often had to hold down two jobs at a time.  The children became adept at adapting to their circumstances in the bare, dry, dusty town that was Roswell.  They scoured the streets and by-ways for any thing that could be either used or sold.  Lynn recalls harvesting wild asparagus that came up through cement cracks.  They’d package it and then go from house to house selling their find for 3-5 cents a bag.  Di Nino attributes her hard work ethic, her tenaciousness, and her ability to live and work on a shoestring to these early years and ultimately contributing to her ability to be self-sustaining as a free-lance artist since 1974.

“The brain just doesn’t stop working,” was one summary Di Nino offered to describe what it is to be an artist.  The ordinary can easily become the extraordinary.  For example, one day she opened a book to the page headed “Table of Contents.”   She saw that ordinary phrase suddenly take on extraordinary properties and before she knew it, she had constructed a new piece.

Likewise, when she walks through her favorite store, Goodwill, a kitchen gadget could suddenly be seen as, perhaps, an arm or a leg for a creature she has yet to build.

All creatures are grist for the mill of Di Nino’s fertile imagination. In the mid 80s and early 90s especially, she traveled to other countries and continents to study their animals.  What were the salient features that identified each animal? What kind of spirit did their demeanor demonstrate? How did they appear during various activities at different times? By studying the animals, Di Nino could select those features that could be used in the stylized structures she created.  She welds a metal frame, or skeleton, over which she lays a hybridized concrete.  Over time, she became a leading expert in use of that special concrete and for ten years she was an instructor at the famous Pratt Institute in Seattle where she also had her work represented in several faculty shows.

After living and working in Seattle for 32 years, Di Nino moved to Tacoma in 2001.  She arrived expecting to find a community of artists, but try as hard as she could, she could not identify where that community congregated. Di Nino appreciates language, often finding humor in common words, but she is serious about one important word: “community.” Believing community to be a dynamic essential for artists to thrive, she established what has become a durable part of the local art scene, the 100th Monkey* gathering. The first party’s success became the pattern for subsequent parties which Di Nino continued to host for three years before she handed off the reins. By this time she had become an icon in the Tacoma art scene, supporting, advising, innovating, cooperating.

Di Nino’s resume consists of 15 pages, single-spaced, and it is still growing because she is still exploring, still creating.  Most recently, she constructed, from recycled materials, 25-30 coats, some of which will be in a show. Or consider her October show at the Sandpiper Gallery in which the humble, paper coffee filter is transformed into delicate jewelry.  Meanwhile she belongs to a group that sponsors a monthly slide show called TRIPOD.

Tacoma has grown fond of Di Nino, for she has roused the rabble (Tollefson Plaza), created a head rolling (First Night), challenged our view of what is normal or the expected (the red door project), and taught us we could turn a suitcase into an art object.  It is not surprising, then, as I write this that there are articles and blogs that review what she has done for our city in her ten years in Tacoma as we prepare to celebrate the tenth anniversary of Art at Work month in November.

For more information visit Lynn’s webe site:  www.lynndinino.com.

*If you are interested in learning about the 100th monkey premise, one source is http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hundredth_monkey_effect.

Maggie Kelly by — October 26, 2011 in Everything Else

Blurry vision and blind spots may be more than just signs of aging-they can be indicators of age-related macular degeneration (AMD). This complex disease affects more than 10 million Americans and is the leading cause of blindness for people over 50. Promising research is advancing new treatments and teaching us more about the disease, but people must take preventive measures and understand the importance of early diagnosis to protect their sight, especially as aging Baby Boomers are becoming more at risk.

Early diagnosis depends on detecting warning signs and regular visits to an ophthalmologist. A person suffering from the early stages of AMD may not notice changes in their vision. But as the disease advances, they may experience blurring in their central vision, especially during detail-oriented tasks like reading.

Doctors diagnose AMD by identifying yellow deposits called drusen that collect underneath the retina. Most people initially suffer from dry AMD, which occurs when the cells in the eye’s macula slowly break down to gradually blur central vision. Some cases of dry AMD progress to the wet form, which causes rapid, advanced vision loss because abnormal blood vessels grow under the macula and leak blood and fluid. A person seeing straight lines as wavy is a classic symptom of wet AMD.

Genetics often play a role in AMD, but the heredity link is complicated as many people develop the condition without family history of it, while those with affected parents may never suffer vision loss. A number of additional factors are associated with AMD, including cigarette smoking, bright sunlight, cardiovascular disease, hypertension and diet.

The National Eye Institute conducted the Age-Related Eye Disease Study (AREDS), which found that a dietary supplement containing a combination of vitamins and minerals reduced people’s risk of developing advanced AMD. The supplement is available over the counter, but should only be taken after consulting a doctor.

Studies have also linked consuming lower amounts of dietary fat to decreased chances of developing advanced AMD. Foods high in healthy omega-3 fatty acids, such as fish and nuts, as well as colorful vegetables rich in carotenoids may also help prevent AMD.

Current research holds promise for new AMD treatments. A biopharmaceutical company recently launched a clinical trial of a cellular therapy derived from stem cells that could preserve and restore vision of AMD patients. Another company is conducting a gene therapy human study that could be a long-lasting approach to halting vision loss from AMD, with only a single treatment. And, one company is seeking FDA approval of a therapy for wet AMD that requires less frequent treatment injections than existing treatments.

Dr. Stephen Rose is the Chief Research Officer for the Foundation Fighting Blindness, a national nonprofit dedicated to advancing research for AMD treatments and the entire spectrum of retinal degenerative diseases.

Additional AMD information is available at www.FightBlindness.org or by calling 800-683-5555.

Contributing Author by — October 26, 2011 in Everything Else

Starting a new business at age 60!  What was I thinking?  I thought I was crazy when I decided to go to law school at 45, graduating at 49.  I started practicing elder law right away in Bellingham.    Back then my friends were all talking retirement, downsizing, snow-birding, and I was entrenched in billable hours, court hearings, and all night sessions writing briefs for court.   The bonus in all that work was that I loved my work and enjoyed fighting for my elderly clients and their families every single day.   I moved to Tacoma to open an elder law practice in 2001 and have been here for 10 years practicing Elder Law.

Now at age 60, my friends are all retired, have moved to sunnier climates, and when most people start to wind down their life, I start my own law firm.  And to make it even more interesting my new partner is 32 years old.  So this 60-year-old elder law attorney (and yes, I can be my own elder law attorney now) is learning what the “cloud” is, what “virtual” is, and how in the world can you have a phone system going through your computer.

My partner, Sean Flynn, has a Masters Degree in Business and received his law degree about 1 1/2 years ago.  So he is just starting in law, although he has a lot of experience in real estate as a result of work experience and family interests.   He is somewhat of a technology whiz kid so I was not prepared for what was in store for me.

When I approached Sean to ask if he wanted to go into practice with me, one of his first comments to me was “we can have a virtual office with all our files and documents in the cloud.”  So as I sit there listening to him, I am picturing how my clients will be able to find me in the cloud or in my virtual office to come in to see me or sign documents.  I am having a hard time visualizing that happening.

My life as an attorney and paralegal (15 years prior to being an attorney) has been brick-and-mortar:  an office with a chair, desk, file cabinets and legal assistants.  You can touch your chair and files.  You can see them in front of you.  Your clients can see them.  All is well.   To me, the cloud is all “up there” somewhere.

“You see I have clients who like to see me and hug me,” I told Sean.  “They like to sit in a chair and put their arms on a table.  They like to see documents.  They are like me, they like to see and touch.”   This sounds like an old Dick and Jane Book.  I say, “I like to touch.”  Sean says, “Virtual is the way to go.”  I say, “I like to see.”  He says, “the cloud is where it is at.”

So we compromised.  I have my office with tables and chairs and some files.  I have legal assistants and computers.  But we also have an office in Seattle that is very close to virtual since the staff for that office are located here in Tacoma, the files are all on the “cloud” and the phones are run through the computer.   Even the way my clients can pay me now is changed.  The old days of checks are almost over.  My clients can now  pay their bill virtually on my iPad or my iPhone.    The funds go directly to our bank accounts.   So this old dog has learned new tricks from this young pup of an attorney.

Science is saying that in order to fight off Alzheimer’s Disease you should learn new languages or take on new learning experiences in your 60s or 70s so you form new synapses in your brain.   If that is true, I will never get that dreaded disease since I have formed so many new synapses in the past few months learning the “cloud” that I think I have rewired my entire brain.

So much has changed in the law office in just 30 years. I know that by the time I retire, law offices may be all virtual.  More and more of my clients contact me by cell phone, voice message, email, text messages or on Facebook.   The age of sit down face to face law practice is changing day by day.  But I am holding on to my desk and chair with clenched hands.  I like face to face contact.  You get more hugs that way!

Jonete W. Rehmke is a partner at Rehmke & Flynn, PLLC, 917 Pacific Avenue, Ste 407, in Tacoma, WA  98402.  She can be reached at (253) 209-0899.

Contributing Author by — October 26, 2011 in Everything Else

Remember when, for a period of time, some Tacoma houses had tarpaper roofs with shiny bits of mica on top?  Those roofs were probably made at Jesse Berkheimer’s plant on South M Street.
Berkheimer, born in Delhi, Indiana, moved to Minneapolis as a young man and worked in the roofing business.  He wanted to go to Alaska when gold was discovered, but only got as far as Seattle where he worked for a sheet metal and tar roofing company.

Six years later, he started his own contracting and excavating business, and a small tar roofing plant near Lake Washington.

In 1908, he relocated the business to a site on Tacoma’s tideflats, contracted with the Tacoma Gas Company to buy all their coal tar byproduct, and used it to make tarpaper and felt roofing.

Locals scoffed.  Roofs were wooden shingles and there was plenty of wood and plenty of mills to make shingles.  Nevertheless, Berkheimer persevered.  When the company he had worked for in the mid-west bought the Seattle plant and offered Berkheimer $10,000 and a job to buy him out, Berkheimer turned them down.

During World War I, the city decided to use Berkheimer’s property for a car barn.  Forced to move, he bought land at 29th and M Street and built a plant.

To make roofing felt, Berkheimer, ground old rags in a machine that chewed them up into a fluffy fiber.  The fiber was dumped into a vat of water and the mucky pulp was fed through a machine that beat it.  From there, it went to a machine where the fiber was mixed with a little more water and forced onto a revolving cylinder three feet in diameter. It came off the cylinder as a thin felt mat, which dried on rollers.  Once dry it was felt paper.

The felt then went into the asphalt room, was unwound and passed through a tank of hot asphalt, which was forced in by heavy rollers.

For cheaper grades of tarpaper, the process stopped here.  For better grades, more asphalt was applied and the felt went to another roller where a thick coating of green, red, blue or gray pulverized mica or slate was rolled onto it. A machine dusted it with talcum powder and another cut the asphalt roofing into shingle-sized squares.

Berkheimer used Vermont slate, mica from New York, talcum from Washington, asphalt from California, and tar, which was a byproduct from gas plants.  The tar came in tank cars and had to be run through a distilling boiler.  At a temperature of 700˚ the creosote it contained was condensed and Berkheimer was able to sell this on the open market. All this was, of course, made possible by Tacoma’s amazing railroad service.
On July 26, 1926, an explosion in the boiler room nearly demolished the plant.  Barrels and vats of benzoyl, naphtha gas and other flammable chemicals made for intense heat and fast-spreading flames.

There were no nearby hydrants.  Firefighters laid hoses for blocks in order to get water.  Six engine companies responded, and lookey-loos, who were willing to risk injury or worse just to get close, were regularly drenched with water.

The exploding benzoyl sent up 50-ft columns of fire.  Next door, the Ford Prairie Fuel Company had large piles of wood.  As the firefighters blasted water at the wood, large chucks flew into the air.  One came down on the head of firefighter Raymond Hammond who had to be hospitalized.  Joe Allen, the plant’s roofing superintendent, broke a window into the office and rescued all the records.  The plant was a total loss.

A year later, Berkheimer had rebuilt, was back in business, and had expanded to include a paper making plant and a place that handled his own by-products.

Making building paper, now called tarpaper, was a similar process.  Old newspapers were ground and the pulp went through the same steps except that the final one was to coat the paper with tar rather than asphalt.

In 1927, there was another fire.  This time some asphalt exploded.  Employees managed to shut off the pipes through which the asphalt was flowing, three firefighting companies responded and were able to beat back and contain the flames and the damage.

There was another fire in 1932.  Seven fire departments responded; the fire chief called in every available piece of equipment leaving three companies to handle the rest of the city, and for a time all the Center Street business district was threatened.

If it hadn’t been for a west blowing wind, tanks of oil and gasoline at the nearby Shell Oil Company distributing plant would have exploded.  This fire started when employee John Adler turned on a valve and hot asphalt flowing into a kettle exploded.  He was badly injured, and the saturating mill, refining mill, boiler rooms and storerooms were destroyed.  Berkheimer had $4,000 in insurance and the damages were $70,000.

Berkheimer installed an asphalt refinery in 1935.  A year later, Louis Goldsmith, an airmail pilot flying from Seattle to Portland via Tacoma, noticed flames from yet another fire.  He notified the Tacoma Airport radio operator who called the fire department.  Berkheimer’s insurance was sufficient to cover the $25,000 in damages.  Rebuilding took a week.

In 1939 Berkheimer added an addition, which included new lofts and storage space, and a new suite of offices.  Four years later, a fire started from spontaneous combustion in the rag room.  People raced to the site.  One car knocked down a policeman, explosions rocked several spectators.  The plant was destroyed.  Berkheimer said he did have some insurance.

Once again, Berkheimer rebuilt.  The plant caught fire in 1944; three months later he sold the business to Joe Allen who had saved all the records in the1926 fire and retired to enjoy a well-earned rest.

Karla Stover by — October 26, 2011 in Everything Else