By Peggy Sturdivant

I’m still confused about the pony. That sentence sums up what was either an extraordinary day in Ballard or the new normal. In which the senior center is packed for lunch because of the visiting Seahawks contingent, men and women are kissing the cheek of someone in a bird costume and Engine 20 arrives for medical response during Q & A.

The pinnacle of my Seahawks knowledge is knowing when they are playing because it means my husband will be at The Lockspot for the televised game, and therefore out of the house. But I knew this was a big deal for the Ballard Senior Center, and therefore of interest to me. A day not to obsess over this year’s loss of United Way funds.

Fall 2015 in Ballard has overwhelmed me: the elections, the pace of building and dissent, the lack of compassion regarding homelessness, and so far in December ten inches of rain, averaging nearly an inch a day for the first ten days. I find myself asking the question, when will there be good news?

No wonder people like to follow sports teams, especially when the win-loss ratio is finally improving. So there I was, straight from yoga class, standing on the opposite side of the packed room from Shane Harms, the Ballard News-Tribune’s news reporter and online editor. We can go months without seeing each other in person, other times when we both show up at the same event. As we did yesterday when Ballard Senior Center Director Carlye Teel said the Seahawks Friday advance team had asked about media contacts. At the kitchen end of the room Steve Raible’s actual body was projecting that familiar voice.

Good-old fashioned hamburgers in buns were plated in front of everyone packed together at long tables. More people, including children, were standing along the walls, in front of Christmas cards for sale and the tree in the corner. One of the front desk volunteers was holding a small dog in her arms. The team photographer moved through tables as did Boom the mascot (identifiable by name on back and as only person in bird costume). Administrative Assistant Kristina Webberley kept stepping outside as though to wave someone in. I assumed the pony but it was Seattle Fire Department responding to a medical emergency in the dining room.

“I suppose next the miniature pony will arrive,” I said to Carlye.

“Already here,” she said pointing toward the dining room but not taking her eyes off the approaching medics.

Perhaps inspired by the flashing red lights Raible told a story about someone being hooked up to IV fluids the entire flight home from an away game. The lead firefighter looked at the packed dining room and made a quick plan. In a move as deft as any on the football field, but probably less well compensated, two emergency responders slid an ailing woman still in her dining room chair out of the room and around a corner into the library. She’d been next to a woman who’d just asked Steve Raible a question.

Raible bantered with Dave Wyman and introduced two Seagals, former kicker Norm Johnson, and yes, Wilson the Pony. An ambulance arrived and the medics smoothly wheeled the woman out the front door of the center to treat her possible stroke. Volunteers began clearing the plates while others began delivering sherbet and then putting out plates of decorated cookies in Seahawks colors. Shane Harms patted a front desk volunteer’s back as she had a coughing fit. Kristina Webberley reminded the Meet-Up group folks about the following day’s ice carving. Director Carlye Teel simultaneously tracked everything happening; twenty balls in the air, all in a day’s work.

A man I often see around town asked if he could still get lunch. Several paying customers had arrived too late. With the library open again a few guests shopped books donated by the former owner of Queen Anne Books. The fate of the inventory was a mystery for many years but now dozens of cartons of virgin books are being opened and made available for sale every day. Boom helped clear more plates; camera phones continued to flash all around. For all of seeming discontent in Ballard can there be any place more accommodating than the Ballard Senior Center?

Program Director Lauren Overlock appeared, triumphant, with one more tray of food. She bypassed the disbanding crowd and took it to the solitary man in the empty exercise room. I’d missed breakfast and lunch but looking all around I felt oddly nourished. Donations, sales, 12th Man cookies and multiple generations… a miniature pony with a dyed blue-and-green mane. That one additional hamburger was suddenly the answer to ‘when will there be good news?’ And it was more than enough.