Why Tacoma?

Over the last few years I’ve heard this question many times.  Many of you that have moved here from Seattle or some other ‘big city’ have probably heard it too.  And the answer is highly personal.  Each of us has a set of experiences, goals, and interests that have somehow brought us here.  I don’t work in Tacoma so it isn’t a proximity to my job.  I don’t have family here.  So what is it about this place?

I came to Tacoma from Southern California in 1992 for school.  Actually, I was scammed into coming here.  It was my senior year of high school and I was looking at colleges all over the country.  Toward the end of my college search I heard about a few schools up here in Washington State.  It was February when I landed at SeaTac looking to see where my future could potentially lead me.  The sky was clear and sunny.  The air was in the high 50 – maybe even low 60s.  Every grass field seemed to have two happy dogs and an ultimate frisbee game.  I went down to the waterfront and walked Ruston Way.  Rollerbladers and bicyclists cruised by.  I sat on the beach.  I was hooked.  A year later, after having been in school for a few months and after having played quite a few extremely muddy ultimate games, I discovered it wasn’t always so bright and sunny here – particularly in February.

The next four years were a blur.  When I look back on my connection to this city I can remember several key ah ha! moments in college.  Generally speaking, all of them derive from the friends I made my freshman year of college.  The friends themselves were fine.  We were a diverse group from all over the country from several different economic, ethnic, and religious backgrounds.  What we lacked as a group was a reliable car.  I had a car in California that didn’t come to school with me.  Somehow all my friends had made the same decision.  What this meant was we were ‘stuck’ here.  The kids from Portand and Seattle went to Portland or Seattle on the weekends and in their free time.  We… well we stayed here.  We walked to Tower Records.  We walked to Denny’s.  We walked to Shari’s.  We walked to Club Tacoma to hear Katie’s Dimples.  We walked to Buzz City and Temple of the Bean.  We heard a couple bands, including Katie’s Dimples, at Buzz City.  The kids in the dorm and our RAs would chastise us for walking in Tacoma – because it’s dangerous here, ya know.  Yet, we quickly realized that, when compared to the other cities we’d been to, Tacoma was pretty sleepy and quiet.  It had a reputation, but that seemed to be it.  We learned to love what our city offered and not what we had to travel to find.  Tacoma had something to it.  It just took some work to find – and good walking shoes.

After college several of us settled in to see where we might head next.  We found jobs.  We left our leased houses around the college and found apartments.  Most of us ended up in the Stadium District.  I was on the 15th floor of Park Tower and later the top floor of the Lewis and Clark.  My roommate through several years of college ended up in the Buckingham.  Several friends found themselves at the Casablanca.  We walked to the grocery store.  We walked to the Harvester every Saturday morning.  We walked to the Parkway Bar & Grill every Wednesday night to play pinball and listen in on the ‘impromptu’ city council meeting in the next booth over – for years.  After awhile my friends and I found ourselves with opinions and a strong interest in what’s going on around the city.  We knew the faces of our city leaders.  We attended concerts, went to art openings, and debated the city’s future.

I trained for a marathon by running the streets of North Tacoma.  If you ever want to know what’s happening in real estate, train for a marathon.  I spent hours upon hours running up and down city streets looking at For Sale signs, grabbing flyers, and stuffing them down my shorts.  Eventually I bought a house and became fully committed to the city. 

We’d visit friends in Seattle to discover crowded neighborhoods, smaller apartments, smaller lots, and more expensive places to eat and drink.  We had easier access to the Olympics, Olympia, Mt. Rainier, and Portland.  Seattle folks had easier access to the I-90, all places to the North, and the ski areas.  Tacoma has Point Defiance and easy access to Vashon Island.  Actually, every corner in Tacoma seemed easily accessible.  Driving the side streets and freeways of Seattle raised my blood pressure.  Tacoma seemed quiet.  In Tacoma we could park in front of our own homes.  If we had to walk half a block we were somehow bitter.  We seemed to be on to something good.

Some of our friends moved away.  Several have stuck around.  We’ve had co-workers visit our homes and drink at our pub.  Then, a few months later, they end up living here too.  On the other hand, we’ve also had co-workers visit our house and ask if it’s safe to park their car in front.  It is Tacoma, ya know.  Eventually we stopped apologizing or explaining ourselves.  Some people get it.  Some don’t.  Now I’m a cheerleader. 

I’m sure there’s more to the story.  This is my version of history – in a nutshell. 

Why are you here?