The Alki Statue of Liberty is special to hundreds of thousands of people, and ought not be used as a pawn.

On the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, I drove home to my Alki cottage after many downtown buildings were closed as a precaution against another attack on a skyscraper. As I rounded Duwamish Head and caught sight of our Statue of Liberty, I knew that we had to show our support for New York, and comfort for our injured country. And so I collected my U.S. flag, the one that had flown over our nation's capitol, and my friends and I hung it on our Statue of Liberty. Media photographers placed images of that moment on Websites, on TV, and on the pages of newspapers around the world. By the evening of 9/11, several thousand mourners gathered at the Statue of Liberty to share and to grieve. For two full weeks, we gathered. Thousands of artifacts were left, collected and protected by the staff of the Log House Museum.

And, as she has for 50 years, the Alki Statue of Liberty gave us strength. She united our community, as she had so many times previous, through joy and terror, war and protest, celebration and reunion. She is of us, she is of Seattle, and she is of America. She, locked away in a warehouse, is yearning to be free.

Now, she is a pawn in a vain attempt to create, at tremendous cost, a grand plaza. The plaza will not be open for at least another year, and maybe more. We don't really know, because a couple of activists are using OUR Statue of Liberty as a hostage in their desires to complete the plaza, with its ever-growing price tag. And dare be it that anyone challenges any of his or her assumptions on the project.

While I appreciate people who come in to a community and want to get involved in something, to contribute to the betterment of a place they have only just moved to, it is ludicrous that those of us who have enjoyed this statue for decades must continue to wait for her return. Many of us current and former residents of the Alki community have worked for more than a decade to have the old, damaged statue recast. On October 26, 1996, a community celebration was held to place a new crown on the old statue, after a small fundraising effort to pay for the work of noted artist and sculptor, Peter Bevis. Peter's bid for a new, bronze Statue of Liberty, to be cast at the Fremont Fine Arts Foundry, was $20,000.

Over the next few years, hundreds of people contributed thousands of dollars to raise the money for a new statue; some of those funds were by kids, pennies at a time. Noted neighborhood philanthropists donated much more, but we all shared in the desire to see our Lady Liberty as soon as possible. Using funds raised in the Alki community, Mr. Bevis created the mold, which then provided motivation for additional funds. The mold stood on display in the Liberty Deli and was later moved to the Log House Museum.

A new group decided to use the Alki Statue of Liberty as a good public relations front to advance the nonprofit Alki Music Festival, and they continued the slow, sustained success started so many years prior. A proposal was made to the community for a beautiful new plaza, with the statue atop a fancy new base. At a meeting attended by several dozen members, a vote was taken to support this statue and plaza. The bid, now by another foundry, had nearly tripled. Yet more money was raised and the statue was cast. And so it has sat ever since, finished, and locked in a warehouse as bounty.

While yet another group tries to raise money for the plaza segment, the bid to finish the plaza has now soared beyond $150,000. Just for the plaza. The "organization," as they call themselves, consists of committee leaders named by the self-appointed chairs. When community members ask the kind of questions that residents have every right to ask, the rebuke is hostile (judge for yourself at the West Seattle Blog).

Yet the questions are valid: Do you have nonprofit status? How much money has been raised so far? How many tiles have been sold? Why is the statue's orientation moved from the position it held since 1951? Why does the Seattle Parks Department think it is OK to place the Statue of Liberty on the old base, cleaned and spruced up, but you refuse? Doesn't the design of the plaza invite trouble, since it looks like skateboard park ramps? The answers fall into two categories: "we don't know," or "that's impossible."

The Alki community is home to more than 10,000 people. West Seattle is home to 115,000. But until the public demands accountability, our Statue of Liberty has no home. The self-appointed group now attacks the Seattle Parks Department, which will have to maintain the statue. The confrontation, issued in an e-mail invitation to the July 19 Alki Community Council meeting, says: "We believe the City is trying to 'short-circuit' your choices. If you want our Lady of Liberty to return to Alki as was planned when you donated your money..."

The problems with this kind of statement are many, starting with the fact that only a few dozen people voted in the first place. As a person who contributed hundreds of dollars back when the bid was only $20,000, I think we have every right to "short-circuit" the so-called choices. We certainly have the right to question the project at every stage and reform it.

I sat, for five years, on the board of the Seattle Monorail Project, learning a few million things about community process. During my tenure, I frequently challenged finances and other project aspects, as the public constantly challenged the board. I know first-hand that designs are always changeable, and deserve to be so, especially when costs spiral out of control. But most importantly, as one of just two people publicly elected to that board, I know what happens when self-appointed people run things.

The Statue of Liberty deserves to be set free. The Parks Department is right: set her on a spiffed up base, and then raise the money for your grandiose plaza.

Cindi Laws

former Alki resident