The Fire: From the Saturday Market Archives

Please note: This blog is not an official Saturday Market forum or set of posts, but a personal one of member Diane McWhorter, who happens to be archiving the Market collection this winter in preparation for the 50th season. 

In the Saturday Market archives, I stopped last night just at the newsletter announcing The Fire. It happened on May 2, 1982. It was arson.

This was when the Market was still on the Butterfly and stored equipment underneath, in two rented parking spaces with various schemes to protect it. They used a chain, but the chain got stolen. In 1981 there were six times the stuff was vandalized, spread all over the place, and whatever was of value was stolen. The fire, on a Sunday morning, was clearly arson, probably done by someone passing through who had also targeted a similar organization in Seattle. I haven't read all of the details of the recovery yet.

The leading up to it is compelling though. 1981 was a very wet, terrible weather year for an outdoor Market. In addition, in 1980 a national recession struck, thanks to Reagan I guess, or the usual things that cause recessions. Here in Eugene it was rough, with lots of people relocating to find the elusive jobs. A government program, CETA, would give people $300 grants to buy tools. It wasn't a great time to be a craftsperson, but at least that was a job. I was painting signs then, and managed to live pretty low on the food chain, though I had to sell all manner of little things at the Market to get by. It was a little before t-shirts for me, so I made cards, calendars, and painted some amazing signs for places like Mr. Moto's and Poppi's, La Primavera, whomever I could find. Hundreds of us created our own jobs and held on for better times.

The Market on the Butterfly had at times held an overflow for its 250 allowed spots, but not that year. Vendor participation dwindled and while there were always a lot of food booths, growing to 40 once, people without jobs weren't buying a lot of crafts or art until Christmas, which had always been solid. Christmas Fairs throughout the 70's were generally two weeks long, every day, long days, but enough people were still left to sell on Saturdays that in 1981, for the first time, a five-day run of the Market was tried. It included Saturday Dec. 19th, and went through the 23rd. The rest of the December Saturdays were just the usual. Fees in those days were $3 plus 10% of the previous week's sales...this structure turned out to be fatally flawed, as on a bad weather day, people often didn't return to pay their fees from the previous good day, and when it was a good day, people might be paying on the previous week's poor sales day.

It's important to remember that the Saturday Market was the first of its kind, so the whole decade of the 70s was experimental, and often the parts that didn't work well were hard to change as quickly as they needed to be fixed. When attendance was lower, so were the numbers of interested, dedicated volunteers, and the balance needed of volunteers and staff could skew. No one wanted staff to work for free, but often the winter closure resulted in staff quitting rather than waiting out the three months of no pay. At the time, staff retention was recognized as a huge benefit to the organization, so we had two great staffers who had worked for a few years by then, plus a few hard-working volunteers, just not enough of them. We budgeted for staff to work at least some over the winter, so even when there was no income, there were expenses.

As you might predict, because this is a bit of a tragic story, the extended Christmas included renting 20x20 tents for customers, lots of great entertainment and special attractions, and lots of advertising, with the attendant big budget expenditures. Fees were raised to make it work, but it was all about vendor numbers, and it rained. It rained so much that one day was described as "the rainiest day ever." I think I remember it. There was 5 inches of rain, and the nine or so of us that stood under a covered area didn't quite know how we were going to pack up and get home. Rent for the Butterfly went from $40 a day on weekends to $500 a day on the weekdays, as the County wanted to recover the costs of the lost parking revenue. We were paying for all night security too, for the booths left on site.We were paying for useless advertising as no one came like they had when times were good.

Suffice it to say, the budget was busted. In January the leaders of the Market started trying to get loans, and to get a handle on how big the deficit was. There wasn't even a solid Treasurer at the time. It's a little hard to figure it all out from the records as all the 1981 newsletters are missing, but during the winter the staff salaries were deferred with promises to pay when things improved, an April opening was decided upon instead of May, and various fees were proposed. A $5 membership fee, and a Season Reserve fee were pitched. Reserves were in place then, but this was a discounted amount to interest people in early spending to pay the December bills. It worked, as did asking for donations, but it turned out to be a deeper budget hole than was known, and everyone kept digging of course. It was never mentioned that the Market could just roll up and quit, after a successful 12-year run. It was too vital to the community, too much a part of the cultural art scene. It was called "The Cradle of the  Arts Community of Eugene" by the head of the Eugene Arts Foundation. And the economy would turn, as in 1982 the Hilton Hotel, whose balconies overlooked the Market, was scheduled to open.

Market Staff sold the promise hard, and April happened! Reforms like same day payments and raffles and promotions helped. The newly renovated info booth

looked fantastic, tables and benches were improved, there were 25 great food booths, but it hailed on Opening Day (April 3) and rained the next week too. Craft artisan booths fell to 60 and 10 food booths didn't show either on that second week. May first, however, brought the new city-aupported Imagination Celebration, which involved a parade, a Chimney Sweeps Festival and Lookalike contest (was this Mary Poppins time, or just David Stuart Bull?) and things started blooming. May first was hopeful.





But early the next Sunday, arson completely destroyed the new Info booth, all of the ten tables and 30 benches, the Lucy Booth, the stage frame and awning, all of the signs, sandwich boards, banners, flags, tools, bulletin boards, hose bibs, everything useful and necessary to put on the Market. It was estimated at $7000-10,000 but it was almost all handmade and beautiful and not really replaceable. The Info booth in particular had been made in a UO workshop, designed by architects, and handbuilt by volunteers in 1973, and was a work of art. Moreso, the community was devastated. On May 8th, members gathered for a circle and dug deep.

It was a difficult year, and leaders emerged who could dedicate time and effort, many of whom still serve the Market or support it. Still, the lot looked empty all season, and various schemes were tried to present as a lively, happy event, while privately despair sometimes emerged. Bills were gradually paid but none of the grants applied for were given. Finally in the fall, the Market wrote to downtown business leaders and politicians, asking for an Advisory Committee and some help. A move to the Park Blocks, the original location the Market had wanted in 1970, was requested.

It was granted! The Market was allowed a trial period of December and the following April, 1983, to see if the members would work together to sell in the lovely park, with only 125 spaces, (now stretched and finagled to 250 again) to revitalize the organization and continue the important work of holding up Downtown on Saturdays during the recession. The downtown mall needed the support, and by then the merchants and public servants well knew the benefit of the large Saturday event. The City Council voted to grant the Market $1850 for moving expenses, and on November 18, 1982, the First Market in the Park was held.

Even though success was still hard won after that (the 5-day Christmas Market failed again) history had been written. The Saturday Market rose from the ashes. I have a little baggie of the ashes for the archives. It's a most compelling story, and such an embedded part of my own history that to me, it explains a lot.

Fire galvanizes. It did that for us. Within a year I was on the Board, painted almost all of the Market signs for costs, and worked together with people I still work together with, to do what needs to be done to keep the Market on track, thriving, and ready for more.

I know what it feels like to sell in a parking lot, and then move to a park. I know what  it means to come on rainy days and sunny ones, and how to have the long, sometimes philosophical conversations necessary to guide and keep the Market for the longhaul. I know how it feels to be part of an ever-changing, ever-passionate community of creative, loving people who just want the best for the community and for ourselves, able to integrate our self-interest with what is best for the common good.

I'll write more as we go along, since there is so much to tell and I am practicing for the eventual book, but I wanted to share my deep feelings as I sort through these folders and piles of papers and tease out what really happened from what is said and remembered. The truth is that our community has the resilience, the strength, and the passionate dedication to not only survive the challenges of the 50th season and Anniversary, but to project beyond it for the next 50 years. I won't be here for all of that, so it might have to be you. Don't stop caring about us. We're worth it.

Here's the link to some of the vintage photos of the old days. We were so young!