While Passing the Space Needle
Notes from the Prairie: I Wonder Column #10
Three of my siblings, my husband Marlo, and I are crammed into a rental car in Washington state. Spotting a sign for Seattle evokes a memory for my brother Marv. When his wife Sherri was in high school, her Iowa-farmer father took his family to Washington on a rare family trip. Clutching the steering wheel and white-knuckled, he asked his passengers to help watch for signs indicating the Seattle Space Needle exit. They watched. The whole family was eager to tour the new Seattle landmark, and GPS had not yet been invented.
Thrilled, they glimpsed the tall, thin structure ahead.
Then they were adjacent to it.
And then. . . it was behind them. No one had seen an exit sign.
Brother Marv, savoring the punch line, pauses, and concludes, “And that was their entire tour of the Seattle Space Needle.”
We laugh. He adds a postscript, “When Sherri and I were here a few years ago, she was eager for a complete tour. So we did that.”
Soon the Needle appears on our right. Jan asks, puzzled, “Why is it called the ‘Space Needle?’” She understands “needle” probably refers to its tall, thin shape, but she wonders why it uses the word “space.”
Dale asks how old it is. We think it’s been multiple decades, but don’t remember a construction date.
I half-remember one fact. “I think it was built for an Olympic event, or something like that.”
Marlo says perhaps it was a World’s Fair and recalls his parents attended the Chicago World’s Fair in their dating days.
“Are World’s Fairs still held?” asks Dale. None of us remembers hearing of recent ones.
These are just too many unknowns for five wondering adults. Except for driver Marv, we pull smartphones from our pockets and purses.
Dale scores first. “It was built in 1962 for the Seattle World’s Fair.” That IS pretty old — 63 years to be exact.
The Space Needle is now shrinking in our rear window. But we continue searching. I discover the reason for its name and call out, “The fair theme that year was ‘Living in the Space Age.’ The flying saucer shape at the top is to symbolize humanity's aspirations for the Space Age.” Bingo! Jan’s question about the name is now answered.
But are World’s Fairs ongoing? We call out recent years and locations as we discover them. In some other countries they are referred to as Expositions or Exhibits.
• 2015 Milan, Italy
• 2017 Astana, Kazakhstan
• 2020 Dubai, United Arab Emirates
• 2025 Osaka, Japan
I conclude, World’s Fairs are still ongoing, although they have not recently been hosted in the US. Perhaps that is the reason we have heard little about them.
The Space Needle disappears. I keep reading. In 2017 the Space Needle began a $100 million renovation. It cost more than the original structure. The renovation included a glass floor in the Loupe Lounge, a floor kept spotless with frequent washing.
“A glass floor!” My sister Jan is horrified. I think, She shares my fear of heights, and she is picturing falling through a shattered floor. I tell her I have seen the small glass floor projecting from Chicago’s Willis Tower, and it is safe to walk on. I didn’t try it, though. I didn’t have the courage to look straight down that many floors.
But I have misunderstood her fear.
She sputters, “But- but- what can the people below see when they look up?”
Marlo comforts her. “The ground is so far below, they see little. It really doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe it’s one-way glass,” says Dale.
I search more. It is 10 layers, a total of 2.5 inches thick and stronger than standard Seattle commercial floors. The online sentence describing the reason says delicately: “For privacy it is opaque from below.” I think, The Loupe Lounge public relations folk probably didn’t want to refer directly to possible sightings of underwear and chose the bland word “privacy” instead.
As Jan and I look at each other I realize, The floor may indeed be both opaque from below and strong, but if we ever spend time in that Loupe Lounge, I will walk on tiptoes and wear rubber soles instead of stilettos. Jan will not even consider wearing a dress.
I suspect, though, if either of us takes another Seattle trip, we will do exactly what Sherri’s father did through fear and we siblings have done through choice: just pass on by.
Carol Van Klompenburg is a writer living in Pella, Iowa. She has a BA in English and an MA in Theater Arts — and is available for reading performances of her work.
Free sample chapters from her just-published book, A World in a Grain of Sand: Lively Little Stories of Household Stuff, are available simply by emailing Carol a request. She’d love to send them to you, no obligation: carolvk13@gmail.com. The complete book is available in Pella from her or from the Curiosity Shop. Or it can be ordered from Amazon.
Readers are calling it “stirring,” “winsome,” and “delightful.”