Community has small-town feel despite big changes all around

Originally published Saturday, November 16, 1996

By MARK HIGGINS
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTER

Ballard's Sons of Norway Lodge is rocking as newlyweds Randal and Solveig Frivold join a circle of family and friends in a rollicking folk dance.

The Frivolds -- who came dressed in traditional "bunad" costumes -- say the reception is for American friends who could not attend their recent 13-hour wedding in Norway.

Such an elaborate wedding filled with speeches, toasts and food would be unusual even in Ballard, the heart and soul of Seattle's Scandinavian community.

Yet some of the "old country" traditions live on in Ballard, generations after the first Danes, Finns, Icelanders, Norwegians and Swedes landed.

The wave of immigrants crested long ago. But the Scandinavians left an indelible imprint on Ballard's psyche. They gave it character -- quirky though it may seem -- and a spirit that lives on today.

It's one reason why Ballard has so few trees and so many churches -- 33 at last count. It's the reason QFC stocks geitost, a goat cheese. And why Swedish and Norwegian are still taught in church basements and community centers across Ballard.

People poke fun at Ballard's "blockheads" and pokey drivers. But the Nordic influence "gives us an identify that some place like Lake City is still trying to find," said Jody Haug, a Ballard resident and neighborhood activist.

"It also helps Ballard feel like a small town. Some of the things you get when you have a cultural focus encourages people to relate to each other, more than if they had nothing to share," Haug said.

This is not to suggest that Ballard has become the sixth Nordic nation. It's not and never was. And Ballard, like the rest of Seattle, is changing.

Though Ballard is predominantly white -- 92 percent -- people of all races live here, attracted by the cozy, small-town ambience, quiet side streets, convenient neighborhood schools and tidy, affordable homes.

Cynthia Johnson, who is black, moved to Ballard 30 years ago. She and her husband raised three children in Ballard and always made it a point to know their neighbors.

When block watch meetings are held, Johnson says, the neighborhood kids pass out the fliers. Fifteen minutes before the meeting, Johnson steps outside and rings a big German bell. When the neighbors hear it, "they know it's time to come," she said.