Vern
was assigned to jury duty just before Christmas of 1984. At the long lunch
break, he had formed the habit of walking the few blocks to Pioneer Square
to spend a few minutes with son John in his gallery and frame shop on
South Washington Street. As he was making his way along the familiar route,
his eye was caught by activity in one of the old buildings; a Christmas
craft fair was in progress. One of the displays was of some gracefully
shaped ceramic pottery, featuring backgrounds of a textured effect, rather
like coarse canvas, overlaid by the long, flat shapes of reeds or cat-tail
leaves. The colors were soft grays and browns, and the pieces were unique
and charming.
The artist was a pretty young woman who told him her
name was "Nan, short for Nancy", and, yes, the pottery was her own design.
Her blue eyes shone and her voice had a smile in it as she explained how
the pieces were made. Vern was very impressed with both the young lady
and her talent. He asked if she would be interested in showing her work
in a nearby gallery and she said she surely would. He explained that he
was on his way to visit his son and would ask if John would care to lend
her a little window space for her attractive creations.
John's gallery, The Prints & The Pauper, specializes
in artists of the Northwest. Since his father was so excited about his
find, John readily agreed to look at the work if she would bring in some
samples. Vern delivered John's business card to Nancy on his way back
to court. A few days later, a handsome display appeared in the gallery
window.
Soon Nan was hired as part-time help, and her clever
hands and artist's background were put to good use in the small shop.
Her ready smile and genuine interest in people made her an immediate favorite
with gallery customers. John and Nan formed an easy friendship during
those business hours. Vern and I also became very well acquainted with
her and with the three other girls with whom she lived in West Seattle.
John has a home near Eastgate where he has lived contentedly
alone, surrounded by his beloved music. He has been a musician since he
was a child, earning spending money while in high school and paying his
way through the University of Washington, as part of a rock band called
"Charade". At one point, he, and a girl named Julie, performed as a twosome
in local lounges, both singing and playing the guitar. He writes music.
His home is also a recording studio. He has made music tapes to be used
as background in restaurants and lounges. Between his music and the gallery,
he had become a rather solitary, though not lonely, person. He seemed
settled into his bachelor state.
Nan is an outdoor girl. She and her friend, Donna,
used their week-end freedom hiking and fishing or just discovering new
spots to enjoy in the nearby mountains. Soon, they invited John to come
along, and he was surprised to realize how much he enjoyed doing these
things which had been such a large part of his growing-up years. When
Donna left on a long vacation, John and Nancy continued their week-end
jaunts and their friendship deepened and grew. Then, one day in September
of l990, while the four of us were on a camping trip in the Olympic mountains,
they told us they were going to be married. We were delighted. We had
already decided to "adopt" Nan as one of our own. Of course, Vern takes
full credit for the match. They must agree, because John asked him to
be his Best Man at their wedding. We were proud and touched by the honor.
Nan made their wedding rings, utilizing the "lost wax
process". She carved them first from blocks of very hard wax, made a casting
of the wax in metal, melted it out, and filled the resultant form with
molten gold. They are wide, gold bands, carved with oak and willow leaves.
She told us that she had chosen these because, to quote, "John is strong,
like an oak, and I am flexible, like a willow." The rings are gorgeous.
I was so intrigued with her idea that a poem wrote
itself in my mind. When it was put onto paper, I presented it to them,
thinking they might like to put it into their Wedding Memory Book. They
loved it, and we all got a little misty-eyed. It was very satisfactory.
On their Wedding Day, my verse had been turned into
a piece of art with a spray of pink dogwood painted for a background.
It occupied a place of honor beside the Guest Book, along with a picture
they had taken of themselves on Bogachiel Ridge in the Olympics, where
he had proposed and had been happily accepted,
* * * * *
Nancy Putnam and John Nordstrand were married in a beautiful ceremony
at Tibbetts Creek Manor near Issaquah, June 23, l99l.
* * * * *
THE OAK
AND THE WILLOW
A lone Oak
stood in a forest glen,
Hardy and strong and content,
All unaware of how lone it was
As the seasons came and went.
A supple, young Willow appeared one day
To share that sylvan glade.
It flourished and grew and friendship bloomed
In the shadow the Oak tree made.
The Willow bent to the lightest wind.
The Oak stood firm to the core.
Each, though unique and whole in itself,
Together, became something more.
As time went by. their branches twined,
And closer they grew with each day
Until, at last, they became as one
And Love will keep them that way.
Now, woven together, the tender and strong,
Stand firm to the storms of life
And thus it will be for John, the Oak,
And Nancy, his Willow wife.