A suburban mall and boyhood memories

Saturday afternoon I hopped in the car and headed to Clackamas Town Center, a 10-minute drive to the 185-store mall that's come to symbolize retail shopping in Portland's southeast suburbs. I was headed to J.C. Penney, hoping to pick up a couple of shirts while also patronizing one of The Oregonian's advertisers.

As I passed the Entering Clackamas County sign on I-205, I couldn't help but think of the negative images that have dogged folks who live in this largely conservative, blue-collar slice of the metro area. According to the stereotype, they are redneck high school dropouts who live in trailers, wouldn't know diversity -- much less celebrate it -- if it hit them in the face, and generally are unsophisticated rubes.

True, this is where disgraced figure skater Tonya Harding, above, grew up -- in fact, she practiced at Clackamas Town Center. True, this is where Ward Weaver killed two 12-year-old girls and buried them in his backyard. True, this is where a young couple, members of a faith-healing church, recently were tried for manslaughter and criminal mistreatment after forgoing medical treatment for their ailing 15-month-old daughter in favor of prayer.

But I can think of equally reprehensible things involving crime, local politics and racism that have sullied the images of more liberal, more affluent Multnomah and Washington counties, too. And, more important, I know there's a lot more to Clackamas County. Three of Oregon's wealthiest communities (Lake Oswego, West Linn, Happy Valley) are located here, along with the state's largest concentration of horse farms. Majestic Mount Hood and historic Timberline Lodge are located in Clackamas County.

True, I would never choose to live here; but, then, I also wouldn't be inclined to live in the westside suburbs, either. Still, I couldn't help but take in the scene at J.C. Penney without my mind reaching back to adolescence, when my family lived in the blue-collar, working-class suburbs southeast of hip and urbane San Francisco. It was a time that predated malls, when families like mine turned to stores like Penney's and Montgomery Ward for affordable clothing, appliances, tools and more.

Saturday, I could appreciate that the same hope of finding decent merchandise at discounted prices is what brought so many different people to the mall, be they Spanish-speaking families, African immigrants in colorful floor-length dresses and head scarves, or retired white folks, some in wheelchairs.

There's a lot to be said for patronizing small, independently owned shops, but there's also a place for corporate chain stores like Penney's which, to me, have always served as something of a great equalizer for the lower and middle classes. And not just for customers, but for employees, too, as I could see in the range of teenage to older workers lucky enough to have jobs in this economy.

As one who grew up in the suburbs, I remember all too well the feelings of sameness and tameness, of wishing I lived in a more exciting place. For most of my adult life, I've lived in Portland, drawn to the greater opportunities for entertainment and culture; the sense of pride in my neighborhood and in feeling part of a larger, progressive city.

For part of a day, though, I felt myself touching base with my working-class roots and feeling good that I'd spent my money in a place all too often is the butt of regional jokes.