Post by NZBC on Jul 21, 2007 20:52:06 GMT 12
Former councilman blazed trail in City Hall
Activist 'really changed the culture of politics in Seattle'
By GREGORY ROBERTS AND BRAD WONG
P-I REPORTERS
Charlie Chong, a political comet who blazed brightly and briefly as an aggressively anti-establishment Seattle city councilman and mayoral candidate in the late 1990s, died Thursday afternoon from complications following surgery, a family friend said Friday.
Robert L. Jamieson Jr.: He fought for justice for the little guy
He was 80.
"Charlie was a person who spent all of his life standing up for the little guy," the friend, Geof Logan, said.
"He was pretty fearless and he was also pretty blunt," Logan said. "He was controversial sometimes for the directness of his language."
Chong died from complications following surgery to repair an aortic aneurism at Swedish Medical Center's Providence Campus. Diagnosed a few years ago, the aneurism was considered inoperable until the development of new technology, which was used in Chong's surgery three weeks ago, Logan said. The procedure was successful, he said, but Chong did not recover from the operation.
Chong came to electoral politics late in life, as a retiree and neighborhood activist in the Admiral District of West Seattle. He lost his first try for the City Council in 1995, but his win the next year in an election for an unexpired term made him a leading political figure in the city, an outspoken champion of voters angry at what they saw as the arrogance of City Hall and downtown power brokers.
After a year on the council, Chong campaigned for mayor in 1997 and qualified for the runoff against Paul Schell, a well-connected developer and former dean of the University of Washington School of Architecture. Schell handily defeated him. Chong lost an attempt to return to the council in 1999 and finished well back in the pack in the 2001 mayoral primary.
Chong exercised an influence out of all proportion to his brief term in office, said Council President Nick Licata, who took over Chong's seat in 1997.
"He was a giant," Licata said. "He really changed the culture of politics in Seattle.
"For some of us, he inspired us to ask really probing questions of the bureaucracy, and not to be afraid to be a dissenter."
Chong, Licata said, worked bravely, yet compassionately, for the disenfranchised and disadvantaged.
Although affected by health problems -- he underwent a heart bypass operation in 1999 and suffered from prostate cancer -- Chong remained vigorous and active until the last week of his life, Logan said.
After his last run for mayor, he stepped up his previous involvement with Pike Place Market, serving as a leader of the market Constituency, a public-interest group established by the city charter.
"He really did love the Pike Place Market and was a tremendous advocate of the people who worked down here," said longtime market vendor Haley Land, a ceramic craftsman. Chong often argued on behalf of market vendors in their disputes with the market administration, Land said.
Although many regarded Chong as "feisty," Land said, "He was the most unarrogant man, most humble -- but armed with very strong opinions."
Chong was rarely reluctant to express those opinions. At a 1994 public meeting in West Seattle on a proposal to concentrate new residents and jobs in 37 "urban villages" across the city, Chong told members of the City Council, "We talk; you don't listen. We listen; you tell us lies." He drew a standing ovation from the opponents of the plan.
And last September, while discussing Pike Place Market with a P-I columnist, Chong said, "One of the dirty little secrets of the city is the Market is run by people who are evil."
Chong grew up in a village on the island of Maui in Hawaii, the sixth of 14 children in a family headed by a father who worked as a bookkeeper on sugar plantations. He was a serious student in Catholic schools and editor of his high school newspaper. Drafted into the Army, he later attended Georgetown University in Washington, D.C., on the GI Bill, graduating with honors.
Chong returned to military service with the Air Force and saw combat in Korea as an intelligence officer. He spent five years as a manager with a vegetable canning company in South Dakota before joining the Johnson administration's War on Poverty in 1963. He recruited VISTA volunteers and later worked for the Office of Economic Opportunity, the job that brought him to Seattle by 1970. He retired in 1983.
Chong held several leadership positions with West Seattle community organizations and ran as the "neighborhood candidate" in his elections. He called for the city to focus more on fixing potholes and taking care of playgrounds than cozying up to developers to build the metropolis of the future.
Politics was not Chong's only passion: He loved football and was an avid fan of the University of Washington Huskies and the Seattle Seahawks. He married his longtime companion, Mary Pearson, in 1999 at Holy Rosary Church in West Seattle and is survived by her; the couple had no children. Funeral services likely will be conducted at the church, but arrangements are incomplete.
Chong's testy exterior sometimes concealed his idealism. "I liked 'The Man of La Mancha,' " he said during his quixotic run for mayor in 2001.
"I liked that song about the impossible dream."
P-I reporter Gregory Roberts can be reached at 206-448-8022 or gregoryroberts@seattlepi.com.
Activist 'really changed the culture of politics in Seattle'
By GREGORY ROBERTS AND BRAD WONG
P-I REPORTERS
Charlie Chong, a political comet who blazed brightly and briefly as an aggressively anti-establishment Seattle city councilman and mayoral candidate in the late 1990s, died Thursday afternoon from complications following surgery, a family friend said Friday.
Robert L. Jamieson Jr.: He fought for justice for the little guy
He was 80.
"Charlie was a person who spent all of his life standing up for the little guy," the friend, Geof Logan, said.
"He was pretty fearless and he was also pretty blunt," Logan said. "He was controversial sometimes for the directness of his language."
Chong died from complications following surgery to repair an aortic aneurism at Swedish Medical Center's Providence Campus. Diagnosed a few years ago, the aneurism was considered inoperable until the development of new technology, which was used in Chong's surgery three weeks ago, Logan said. The procedure was successful, he said, but Chong did not recover from the operation.
Chong came to electoral politics late in life, as a retiree and neighborhood activist in the Admiral District of West Seattle. He lost his first try for the City Council in 1995, but his win the next year in an election for an unexpired term made him a leading political figure in the city, an outspoken champion of voters angry at what they saw as the arrogance of City Hall and downtown power brokers.
After a year on the council, Chong campaigned for mayor in 1997 and qualified for the runoff against Paul Schell, a well-connected developer and former dean of the University of Washington School of Architecture. Schell handily defeated him. Chong lost an attempt to return to the council in 1999 and finished well back in the pack in the 2001 mayoral primary.
Chong exercised an influence out of all proportion to his brief term in office, said Council President Nick Licata, who took over Chong's seat in 1997.
"He was a giant," Licata said. "He really changed the culture of politics in Seattle.
"For some of us, he inspired us to ask really probing questions of the bureaucracy, and not to be afraid to be a dissenter."
Chong, Licata said, worked bravely, yet compassionately, for the disenfranchised and disadvantaged.
Although affected by health problems -- he underwent a heart bypass operation in 1999 and suffered from prostate cancer -- Chong remained vigorous and active until the last week of his life, Logan said.
After his last run for mayor, he stepped up his previous involvement with Pike Place Market, serving as a leader of the market Constituency, a public-interest group established by the city charter.
"He really did love the Pike Place Market and was a tremendous advocate of the people who worked down here," said longtime market vendor Haley Land, a ceramic craftsman. Chong often argued on behalf of market vendors in their disputes with the market administration, Land said.
Although many regarded Chong as "feisty," Land said, "He was the most unarrogant man, most humble -- but armed with very strong opinions."
Chong was rarely reluctant to express those opinions. At a 1994 public meeting in West Seattle on a proposal to concentrate new residents and jobs in 37 "urban villages" across the city, Chong told members of the City Council, "We talk; you don't listen. We listen; you tell us lies." He drew a standing ovation from the opponents of the plan.
And last September, while discussing Pike Place Market with a P-I columnist, Chong said, "One of the dirty little secrets of the city is the Market is run by people who are evil."
Chong grew up in a village on the island of Maui in Hawaii, the sixth of 14 children in a family headed by a father who worked as a bookkeeper on sugar plantations. He was a serious student in Catholic schools and editor of his high school newspaper. Drafted into the Army, he later attended Georgetown University in Washington, D.C., on the GI Bill, graduating with honors.
Chong returned to military service with the Air Force and saw combat in Korea as an intelligence officer. He spent five years as a manager with a vegetable canning company in South Dakota before joining the Johnson administration's War on Poverty in 1963. He recruited VISTA volunteers and later worked for the Office of Economic Opportunity, the job that brought him to Seattle by 1970. He retired in 1983.
Chong held several leadership positions with West Seattle community organizations and ran as the "neighborhood candidate" in his elections. He called for the city to focus more on fixing potholes and taking care of playgrounds than cozying up to developers to build the metropolis of the future.
Politics was not Chong's only passion: He loved football and was an avid fan of the University of Washington Huskies and the Seattle Seahawks. He married his longtime companion, Mary Pearson, in 1999 at Holy Rosary Church in West Seattle and is survived by her; the couple had no children. Funeral services likely will be conducted at the church, but arrangements are incomplete.
Chong's testy exterior sometimes concealed his idealism. "I liked 'The Man of La Mancha,' " he said during his quixotic run for mayor in 2001.
"I liked that song about the impossible dream."
P-I reporter Gregory Roberts can be reached at 206-448-8022 or gregoryroberts@seattlepi.com.