Timber!

Tre Arrow probably thought matters couldn't get much worse. While perching in a tree to protest on-going logging practices in God's Valley State Forest, the Oregon Department of Forestry (ODF) cut down his temporary home--right out from under him. Arrow leapt to the branches of another nearby hemlock as his former tree crashed to the ground.

After Arrow re-positioned himself in the nearby tree, ODF allegedly sent a logger shimmying up to slice off the branch Arrow was clinging to. But according to a spokesperson for Cascadia Forest Alliance, the logger refused and reached a tentative truce with the protester.

Last summer, Arrow gained notoriety when he sat for 11 days on the ledge of a Portland building that houses the local U.S. Forest Service offices. This time around, hounded in the tree by ODF officials and the Clatsop County Sheriff, Arrow held firm throughout Friday and Saturday. But after 36 hours with no food, water, or sleep, Arrow apparently passed out and fell 60 feet to the ground. On Monday, with a crushed pelvis and head injuries, he was listed in fair condition at Legacy Emanuel Hospital. PHIL BUSSE


White Guilt?

Last Sunday, Roderick Franklin watched as the show he had been organizing for six months, Hiphop in the Park, drew a large crowd to Alberta Park. Despite the rain, musicians scratched, rapped, and recited spoken word for nearly eight hours. But what the audience didn't see or hear was that, after initially slamming Franklin with inflated rates, insurance costs were suspiciously cut to zero. By vacillating so much, the insurance company sent a message first of veiled prejudice and then, while they backpedaled, one of shame.

In Portland, all significant events at city parks are required to have insurance. Yet, after initially talking to Gales Creek Insurance (the company that contracts with the city for special event insurance), Franklin was quoted rates at an additional $500, simply because he was hosting a hiphop event. After extensive negotiations, Gales Creek dropped the estimate down to standard fee of $200. Then, two days before the show (and after the Mercury initially reported the increased estimate) Gales Creek waived the entire fee. Gales Creek did not return the Mercury's phone calls. KATIA DUNN