Is SeaTac the Grinch that stole Christmas from a genuine tree farm in the city?

SeaTac businessman Gene Fisher says this is probably the last holiday season he will be selling Christmas trees on his nearly two-acre tree farm at 2857 S. 152nd Street.

And he will offer only trees customers cut themselves on his unique urban lot. He won't be importing any pre-cut trees.

City regulations are one reason he's shutting down.

The city has strict ordinances on the size and number of directional signs businesses can display. Breaking the codes means a hefty fine.

But potential customers need a lot of help finding Fisher's farm in the middle of a residential neighborhood.

If the hard-pressed businessman feels he's being harassed by the city, why doesn't he contact his council member? Maybe Fisher should pressure his elected representative into using political clout to fight city hall.

Well, Fisher is a SeaTac city councilman.

First elected as a limited-government, pro-small business outsider, Fisher was re-elected two years ago without an opponent.

The councilman jokes he's tried changing things but fellow lawmakers and city staffers haven't been much interested in reform.

It would be too easy to chalk this story up as overzealous government regulators forcing an entrepreneur out of business.

Other factors have played a part.

Fisher chuckles that, as a councilman, he "got a guilty conscience over breaking my own laws."

But Fisher notes that even after putting out signs and placing other advertising, it's a hard sell to convince people there is a tree farm in the middle of a city.

Those who want to cut their own tree hop in their four-wheel SUV and head for the mountains.

And it's not like Fisher needs the work. There's that councilman gig. He's also a commercial fisherman based out of Newport, midway down the Oregon Coast. And then he testifies at trials as an expert witness.

Fisher admits he's been running the lot the last few seasons mainly to give neighborhood kids somewhere to earn some money.

And that's where this potential government-bashing polemic turns into a heartwarming holiday feature.

Seattle Central Community College freshman Jacob Johnson started helping out at the farm in 1997.

He remembered the experience in a letter to the Times/News:

"Many of us, starting at 10-11 years old grew up working the Christmas season for Councilman Gene Fisher at the farm. It was dreams come true for kids our age.

"We had no other way to earn money and it was a joyous and exciting time of the year as we cranked up the rock and roll Christmas music, decorated, cleaned and washed each tree for the customers, and, of course, dipped into the candy canes, hot chocolate, apple cider, smoked salmon, chili, etc. while we earned money for Christmas.

"It was more than hard work. Mr. Fisher was our mentor, and a very tough boss. We all realize now he was teaching us not only responsible work habits and salesmanship, but also would sit us down after closing to work on the revenue and expense spreadsheets to teach us the business aspects.

"Profit or not we always got our pay, and when the customers' tips were low, he would anonymously slip money in our elves tip can. A $25-$50 gift certificate from Fred Meyer at the end of each season was routine and greatly appreciated."

Johnson ends the letter by thanking Fisher's wife, Aileen, for cooking up hot lunches for the hungry helpers.

Talking to Johnson, he fondly recalled the thrill as a pre-teenager of helping even younger kids cut down their first Christmas tree.

I can relate. I worked one season at a Burien Christmas tree lot. Forty years later, I remember being very cold and very wet.

But for a cynical teenager, there was no faster way to get into the Christmas spirit than to watch families excitedly drive off with their newly-picked tree.

Eric Mathison can be reached at hteditor@robinsonnews.com or 206-444-4873.