Saturday, January 1, 2000, 01:42 a.m. Pacific
Year 2000
Caution takes air out of Seattle celebration
by Alex Tizon
Seattle Times staff reporter
While the great cities of the world celebrated the new millennium in spectacular fashion, we here in the mossy corner of the country watched on TV.
There was Jay Leno on the "Tonight" show featuring clips of fireworks from Sydney, Australia, to New York. "And live from Seattle," Leno said, the camera cutting to a scene of three people slumped on folding chairs in an empty room. One tooted a party horn.
Judging from the early returns, Leno had it about right. Every party has a pooper, and in the U.S. last night, Seattle was it.
What celebration happened - fireworks and smatterings of street parties - took place amid a chilly breeze and a sporadic North Pacific drizzle. The 21st century arrived wearing a raincoat.
At least, though, it didn't bring its highly unpopular sidekick, the Y2K computer bug. Most everything worked as of early this morning, from gas pumps and flush toilets to the top of the Space Needle, which continued to spin on its lonely axis.
It was one of the few things moving on the Seattle Center grounds last night, aside from pyrotechnicians and police officers patrolling the premises. The Center, where the city's millennium party was supposed to take place, was closed to the public, with chain-link fencing keeping people out.
"The reason we came here," said a disappointed Huw Gilbert, 24, of Chicago, "is we wanted to say we went to Seattle Center on New Year's Eve and ate a frankfurter before Armageddon."
As of early this morning, neither of the region's worst fears - terrorism and mass shutdown - materialized. If anything, the city and region - jittery from the World Trade Organization debacle and recent arrests at the border - seemed over-prepared for potential trouble, squelching some of the zest of the millennium moment.
Seattle Mayor Paul Schell said security downtown was at unprecedented levels, with 895 police officers and 320 firefighters on duty. In some of the city's hot spots, police far outnumbered revelers.
Portland officials, seizing the opportunity to one-up the Emerald City, made it a point to announce that the city's downtown party, despite a formidable police presence, was "the biggest in the Pacific Northwest."
In Tacoma, police set up concrete barriers around government buildings during the city's First Night celebration. And in Spokane, extra police were on hand for a party at Riverfront Park, where fireworks were lit three hours early to keep crowds off the streets at midnight.
The party that wasn't
The party that might be remembered most was the one that didn't happen.
The city of Seattle this week canceled its millennium celebration and told the expected 60,000 attendees to revel elsewhere.
That the city acted out of fear of terrorism says a lot about the times we live in, and may also say something about Seattle; namely, that it isn't quite ready to step into the pantheon of great cities.
But if Seattle hasn't quite reached the big leagues, it certainly has spent the past century lifting itself to the brink, peeking over the edge, poised for the final push.
Washington state soared into the 1900s on the wings of the Klondike Gold Rush and now rides into the 2000s on the sails of the Pacific century. With the rise of Asia as an economic power, Seattle, as an important link to the West, will continue to rise with it.
A wild century
But who really knows. If the next century is as strange and unpredictable as the last, the potentialities, good and bad, are limitless. By any standard, it was a wild 20th century here on the sploshy edge of the continent.
From the region's moist folds came Bing Crosby and Ted Bundy, Jimi Hendrix and the Green River Killer, not to mention a Seattle mayor known as Charley, a U.S. senator called Scoop and a federal judge named Boldt.
From its fertile fields grew Boeing, Microsoft, Nordstrom, Starbucks and Amazon.com. From its verdant hills sprang two world's fairs, the country's first general strike, the most expensive sports stadium on Earth and the world's richest man.
The 20th century saw forests cut down and skyscrapers go up, Pacific salmon dwindle and cyber-millionaires multiply.
It saw the resurgence of Indian people and the decline of the family farm, the demise of Olympia beer and the rocket-rise of the double-tall hazelnut latte and its infinite variations.
Greater Seattle has emerged as one of the most dynamic cities of the late 20th century, with a personality all its own - moist and bookish, hip and outdoorsy, slightly shaggy, slightly wild, with an inclination toward all things earthy and a gift for all things cyber and electronic.
It has become a breeding ground for the prototypical overachieving human of the new century, the strong, sensitive, precocious do-all computer geek with an eye toward ruling the world or at least his own start-up company.
Waiting for the Big One
Of course, everything could change in an instant if the Big One rumbles through town and proves bigger than expected. Those who know say we are due.
History is replete with examples of nature forcibly intervening upon the best-laid schemes. And even the richest geek in the world isn't immune from catastrophe.
But now isn't the time to talk of doom. We'll save that for the remaining 364 days in the year. Now is the time to celebrate, however quietly.
Maybe the next millennium party, if there is one, will be more festive.
Or the residents of Seattle might have to put up with more lines from the Jay Lenos of the world.
Said Leno last night: There's a guy in the Pacific Northwest who bought guns, water and canned goods and hid in a bunker during the celebrations.
"Oh," he said, "That's the mayor of Seattle."
