Portland seemed like such a clean, lovely city, it was difficult to believe there were any areas where we might not feel safe. But when we arrived downtown, both Georgia and I were happy we had Bryce and Jack with us. Loud groups of young men stared at us as we walked past, eyeing us with an energy that made me feel like we could very well become their prey. It was no worse than anything we saw in Seattle, but somehow with the streets being so unfamiliar, it felt more threatening. There were plenty of retail stores in the area, but we went directly to the art store where Matt suggested my father might be hanging out. When he wasn’t there or anywhere nearby, we walked a twelve-block grid with no luck. Ever determined, we headed to the next area on Matt’s list, a neighborhood just north of downtown Matt had noted was somewhat known for its homeless population. We showed copies of my dad’s picture to as many people as would stop to talk with us, but after six hours of driving around and combing the foreign streets, we were all exhausted and decided it was time to check into our hotel.
