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To enter De Charlene William's Beauty and Boutique hair salon at 21st and Madison, where First Hill meets the Central Area in Seattle, you have to get past an iron gate. The extra security is a reminder that doing business here for 48 years has not always been easy. "I've been through a lot here on this corner," Williams says. Despite cars crashing through her front door and thieves cutting holes in her ceiling, Williams' beauty shop continues to serve longtime customers and women in search of a

Editor's Note: This post, which contains recollections of the civil rights movement, contains a racial slur that some might find upsetting. Just a heads up. We’ve all experienced the uncomfortable feeling of being told to move on. Maybe it was a school bully, or perhaps it was a job you really wanted but didn’t get. For Marion West and her husband, Ray West, it was when they bought a house. The year was 1952. Marion and Ray met when they were students at the University of Washington. Ray, an

Natasha Marin would like white people to know that because of the color of their skin, they have an inherent advantage, or privilege. “Privilege is complicated," says Marin. "A lot of people hear the word 'privilege' and they think about luxury. Privilege is not about luxury. Especially in terms of white privilege, it’s about benefits and boosts that society affords to you because of your appearance.” Marin is an African-American woman. She lives in Seattle. She’s a writer and a visual artist.

At hospice centers throughout the Northwest, there’s a simple message written on posters and plaques and displayed throughout the halls. It says “Please forgive me,” “I forgive you,” “Thank you,” and “I love you” It’s the four things you’re supposed to express at the end of your life to find peace of mind before you die. Rose Bosacker has the quote on a little card on her fridge. She’s a hospice nurse in Olympia and she deals intimately with people at the end of their life. However, it was her

Almost every night in the winter, there are hundreds of farmers at work along the Washington coast. The lights of their head lamps are just barely visible on the shoreline. They are shellfish farmers out harvesting clams, oysters, and geoducks. T hey are up at such late hours because of the tide. That’s when it’s lowest during the winter months.

The two little boys in the photo on state Rep. Matt Manweller’s window sill are wearing capes as they play on the sidewalk outside the John L. O’Brien Building on Olympia’s Capitol campus. “My two little superheroes,” the Ellensburg Republican says of his young sons. “They used to be a fixture here in Olympia. They would be clamoring out on the House floor, wanting to push my voting button. But now they have school.” They’re 6 and 7 now, and back in Ellensburg. Being away from family for a few

This week on Sound Effect , we learn to make amends. We bring you stories of people making amends after a life of crime, siblings making amends before death, and public officials making amends to an entire city. The Apology Bell Back in the 1800s, Seattle's first volunteer fire chief wasn't prepared for the Great Seattle Fire. He felt so bad for his mistakes that he apologized to the entire city of Seattle with a present: a giant fire bell. Leonard Garfield from Seattle's Museum of History and

At hospice centers throughout the Northwest, there’s a simple message written on posters and plaques and displayed throughout the halls. It says “Please forgive me,” “I forgive you,” “Thank you,” and “I love you” It’s the four things you’re supposed to express at the end of your life to find peace of mind before you die. Rose Bosacker has the quote on a little card on her fridge. She’s a hospice nurse in Olympia and she deals intimately with people at the end of their life. However, it was her

Anthony Curcio and his wife Emily met in sixth grade in Monroe, Washington. Emily remembers a young Anthony as good and kind. But in college, after a sports injury, Anthony became addicted to opiates and everything changed. As Anthony’s addiction intensified, so did his criminal ambitions. He did shady realty deals, stole from foreclosed homes, anything to make an easy buck. All the time, Anthony was living a double life with Emily. For nearly a decade, he lied to her. Meanwhile, they got

Sometimes it can take a long time to come around to an apology or to even realize you did something wrong in the first place. In this next story, it took years. It began on one fateful night in Seattle in the fall of 1999. As protesters squared off against the police during the controversial WTO conference, law enforcement chose to deploy tear gas and aggressive policing tactics. Norm Stamper, Seattle police chief at the time of the WTO riots, initially defended his policing decisions. Even