The best thing about reopening Taproot in this neighborhood is the neighbors. Our landlords, Simon and Kyoung of K & S Auto, have been exceptionally supportive of us. Meris and Davis across the street at the Blackwood Cafe provide not only coffee (and homemade biscuits with gravy), but also camaraderie. Of course, we wouldn't have found the space at all had it not been for our friend Catherine at Seastar Community Acupuncture a block away.
Local business owners notwithstanding, it quickly became apparent that the residential neighborhood surrounding us is home to an unusually friendly group of people. It took us two solid summer months to move in, set up, and get open. During that time we were spending long hours here, and during our daily lunch and dinner breaks we began to meet the locals, many of whom came walking their dogs past our 70th-side door, curious to know what was going on in Simon's first bay. (We saw so many of our neighbors during meals that I began to wonder if they would think we did anything other than eat.)
"We're starved for this!" one woman exclaimed. Everyone has expressed mingled delight and relief at having "something other than car repair shops and churches" in the neighborhood, often in unexpectedly generous ways. One couple brought a sack of home-grown tomatoes and a homemade sherry-zucchini bundt cake to welcome us. Bestowed upon us by another new friend was a pound of bee pollen. "Just Say Gnome" originator Steve Herrington gifted us with two of his creations. From a local painter came a few tins of Gamblin paint. Another artist brought some wire she thought Keith might be able to use. Around the holidays we received two big bottles of home-brewed beer from yet another neighbor who has become a friend. Many local residents did some portion of their holiday shopping at Taproot, and during these first three months in our new location, all of our commissions have been requested by people who live within walking distance.
One man, Bob, has shown nearly ecstatic enthusiasm for Keith's work from the first day he ventured over from the cafe where he'd been having coffee. He stops by now and then to check out the changes in the metal shop and run his hands over whatever newly smooth item Keith has procured since the last visit. A well-traveled retired history teacher, Bob is great fun to talk with, and every conversation we've had with him has yielded some new insight.
One day in December Bob stopped by to see the anvil. He told us he'd been walking his dog the night before and had stopped for a while to watch Keith in action. One day while we were closed for the holidays we stopped by the shop to drop something off, and found a piece of paper pushed through the mail slot. Bob had been inspired to write a short piece of prose about the evening he'd observed Keith grinding the anvil, excerpted below.
Sustainability isn't just about reducing our carbon footprint. While that's naturally of paramount importance, invaluable are the relationships that develop when you do business in your community.
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"...Man, look at that, that new guy is working late. The bay to his shop was up.
"Long legs and heavy boots straddled a bench where an anvil glowed white-hot. Bouncing off the lenses of his hood, sparks leaped and snapped as he carefully sculpted the metal...
"I knew the guy, already had some of his stuff, so I knew it was special. I could have hailed him, maybe bullshitted for a while, but then his concentration would snap. Instead, we quietly watched, wishing I'd brought my camera, but, no, action like this you shouldn't try to capture. It's all about the shadows dancing on walls..."
- Bob Carrico, Portland
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