Telling Stories, Sharing Memories Together
Kay wrote a book, along with Jonny Fox, Dana Clark, and others, documenting case studies in South America and Asia, where villagers fought to stop World Bank-funded projects that harmed their communities. The book is called “Demanding Accountability”. Kay’s working title was “It Could Have Been Worse”.
My path crossed with Kay’s when I was hired on to lead the Coast Salmon Partnership- which is working to protect the last best salmon populations in Washington State. I was truly an underdog- by resume, I was unqualified and had no experience on the ins and outs of being an executive director- let alone fundraising. As a small fledgling nonprofit, fundraising was the first of many challenges I would face. Somehow, word of my hiring reached Kay and before I knew it our paths were forever linked. Kay saw something in me that I was unable to see in myself- and she rooted for my success. She believed that my passion and grit were more valuable than my knowledge of nonprofit structure. She was my trusted confidant, the person I reached out to when I needed to talk through strategy, or complain about the conservation world’s lack of progress. When I was offered a position at the Wild Salmon Center, Kay was the first person we all called. The Harder Foundation has funded both organization’s work and we wanted to make sure that my transfer would not rock Kay’s boat. Kay did not skip a beat in her support- after rigorous questioning of course about our transition strategy.
I have had the distinct privilege of spending time showcasing our work out in the field with both Bruce and Kay. I will forever cherish that time spent on the beautiful coast of the Olympic Peninsula- sharing stories of protests, and fighting to protect what you love and believe in over dinner and wine around the campfire.
Since Kay passed, the world feels a bit off kilter. I have lost a sense of peace that I had knowing that Kay was walking around the earth helping to provide inspiration as I fight the daily battle of conserving and restoring critical ecosystems. I find myself out in the garden a lot lately, asking my garden plants for their advice on my most recent conservation strategies. I firmly believe that Kay is listening and can feel her energy! My tomatoes must be feeling it too- because they are growing leaps and bounds. I only hope that Kay’s strength and grit will continue to help me grow as I move forward in my conservation career. Thanks Kay and Bruce for believing in me and the tough work that we do!
While we in GP never did, in fact, get our shit together, this was a very fine attempt.
We remember when Kay and Bruce moved into their house on N.11th. It was probably 15-16 years ago. We had been friends with Joe, the prior owner, and so were a little curious about who would move in behind him. Turns out Bruce and Kay were the down home folks who grew amazing gardens, put a book box outside their home where people could leave or take books, and were often out and about on walks through the neighborhood. We never got to know Kay as well as I wished we had but we always enjoyed catching up when they stopped by our corner, often to visit with our black lab, Lucy. She liked the three aspen trees we planted in front of our house.
Kay was very engaging. She clearly enjoyed laughing and but also had a toughness to her. The kind of toughness that emanates from lived experience and from knowing what you believe and what you stand for.
The last time I saw Kay was maybe two months before she passed. She was walking up the other side of our street. She saw me working outside and greeted me with a loud, “Hi Steve,” accompanied by a big smile and enthusiastic wave. She didn’t have to do that–she could have just kept walking and I would not have seen her. So, that was the last time I saw Kay, calling my name and waving from across the street.
Kay was, as the saying goes, “good people.” We will miss her in the neighborhood.
Sherri and Steve Woolworth
In 1988, when my son Eric was in kindergarten, I got a call from the father of a boy in his class, asking if Eric could come to their house for a playdate. That was the first time I met Bruce. Kay wasn’t home – I don’t know where she was, but I’m sure she wasn’t off doing something frivolous. I guess Eric (kind of boisterous at the time) and Nate (kind of quiet) hit it off, because more playdates followed. Gradually a core group of friends formed, thanks to day care, school, and sports — friendships that grew and lasted through high school and beyond, for both the boys and their parents. These boys grew up with a whole tribe of parents looking out for them, supporting them, coordinating their summer camps, coaching them, mentoring them, driving them, feeding them, enjoying their company, checking in with each other, and sometimes worrying about them. I feel so grateful to have had this close-knit community, and that it’s lasted through the years, despite geographic distance. I’m grateful that Kay was part of it and grateful that she knew that all of us who’ve stayed in Takoma Park will be here for Nate and Halie (who, happily, chose to move back to MD from LA a few years ago). And she knew we’ll be here for 2-year old Collin as he grows up. He won’t likely remember his grandmother much, if at all, but he’ll be surrounded by people who knew and loved her and will help keep her memory alive.
I’m posting some pictures from celebrations through the years – the “moms” celebrating the boys’ 2001 high school graduation, the annual 4th of July Takoma Park parade celebration at Pat and Wabi’s (which, until they moved from Takoma Park in 2001, was always followed by a pre-fireworks barbecue at Kay and Bruce’s); and at one of the weddings of the Takoma Park group of friends.
I don’t know with how many people Kay played “Words with Friends,” but she was my one and only “Words with Friends” buddy. I loved the feeling of connection with her when that little “ping” on my phone would let me know she’d just played a word, 3,000 miles away. I miss that and miss knowing she’s in the world, making it more beautiful and fighting to make it better.
The “Mothers of Sons” group, at the boys’ high school graduation celebration, 2001
at a Takoma Park 4th of July celebration, with Wabi Aboudou
Kay in her spectacular garden, being a spectacular hostess and cook
Early on, a therapist at the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance asked Kay “so how do you feel about your diagnosis?” In a heartbeat she responded “well, at least I won’t have to endure the 2020 election”.
Hello friends and family of Kay,
I have enjoyed reading these remembrances of Kay and wanted to add a link to those from Scott Miller and me, during our time at Resource Media:
https://resource-media.org/a-remembrance-of-kay-treakle/
We miss Kay so much.