Rest in Peace: Jage Paroline, Seattle

When the memorial arrangements were announced for James Paroline, I struggled daily, unsure if I would attend. I had dropped flowers off the day after he died, and attended the community meeting.

With little time to spare, I jumped out of my Sunday sweats and hunted for something more fitting and respectful to wear; I was going to the service.

Traffic was blocked off by Seattle police, and media trucks were everywhere, reporters, photographers and their bulky equipment. As I walked up the sidewalk, I saw the board that you see above, with pictures of Jage and statements about his life…the traffic circle was just feet from me, covered in flowers. I was sure mine had long since wilted in the Seattle heat, but didn’t bother to check. Just around the corner stood Jage’s sisters, facing a wall of cameras and microphones, answering general questions and sharing details about their brother. He was more than the quirky neighbor, more than the Vietnam vet. More than the man who died that day.

What caught my attention most, was to hear the women recount how, just a few nights ago, a fight spilled into the street. It was between a few young black men, and it originated of course at the “problem” house just down the street. The same house associated with the women who called Brian Keith Brown to the traffic circle. The sisters shared with the media how they intervened, talking the young men down from their roof of rage and violence towards each other.

My heart broke. They shouldn’t have had to deal with that. Not while trying to lay their brother to rest.

I identified most with Jage’s eldest sister Kathleen, who stood before the crowd of more than 100 people, to share the life of her brother. It reminded me of standing at my son’s funeral, in front of 100 or so people. I’d prepared notes, and rehearsed what I had to say, but the entire time I stood at the mic, I knew that I could never say enough, and my mind was filled with “I cannot believe I am doing this right now”. I felt that, when I looked at Jage’s older sister (by 11 months!), and for the second time since Jage’s death, I cried over this situation.

It was only fitting that the Honor Guard was there to pay tribute to Jage, thanking his family for his service to his country. It was another surreal moment, being the sister of a Vet. I swore I would never attend a funeral where a flag was presented to a family. I still remember my grandfather’s flag, tucked away in a cupboard in the basement of my parents house. There are very few symbols as telling as that.

The anger and frustration and sorrow could be felt. This was a senseless death. Maybe even one that could have been prevented. The frustration stems from the fact that, really, nothing is in place to stop these kinds of incidents. Someone could die tomorrow, the victim of a senseless act of violence and rage. Though we all recognize these things, we ask ourselves, what has changed? What has changed?

I don’t have the answer. I am just a woman with a blog, a former resident of “the Beach”. Since this incident happened, because of my perspective I hemmed and hawed about how much to cover it, and just what to say. In the end, that decision was made for me when I saw Jage lying on the ground. It is the same reason that I went to the memorial today; to remember, through all the other issues this has brought up, that a man lost his life. It is hurtful to me to know that he spent his last moments in fear. I don’t really know how to move past that, and I feel that way towards anyone who suffers needlessly at the hands of another.

Of all the things that really touched me today, Hans touched me the most. He was one of Jage’s best friends, and he spoke openly and honestly about his friend’s life, and his death. He explained how he help Jage understand the process of petitioning the city for a traffic circle, and that, if one was put in, that Jage would be responsible for tending to it. Hans said that he asked his friend “why do you want to go through all this work, are you sure about this?” Jage said yes. He was worried about the pets and children in the neighborhood being hurt or killed by a speeding car. Hans pointed out that one of the women involved in the altercation, Ms. Hicks, had her 3 small children in the car when she got out and attacked Jage, and Hans thought this ironic; Ms. Hicks tormented a man who was trying to do right by her children, and every other child along 61st and Cooper.

Ironic indeed.

I was touched by the neighbors and community members who said ‘we read the blog’, and, ‘we wish you were still our neighbor’. I do too. But on the other side of Rainier in the Beach, things are much rougher, violence and death even more random. I have long since said I am a Seattle ex-pat, and my heart is in the Beach. Those truths remain for me.

I will continue to follow this case. I think it is important to see it through. If I miss something, drop me a line and I’ll update the coverage. There are people all over the world that have learned about the life and death of Jage by coming to the blog, and I think that is so powerful.

Thank you to the family for allowing us all to come and celebrate Jage Paroline. I will never forget him.

Peace-