A freshman University of Oregon student died in her dorm room in Hamilton Hall on Saturday evening. She was 18 years old, according to UOPD. The Lane County Medical Examiner has not yet determined a cause of death.
The student lived in the Spiller wing of Hamilton. Her death is under investigation by both UOPD and the university, spokesmen said.
“This loss will be felt by us all. During this difficult time, I want each of you within Spiller Hall to know that I and many others within our community care about you,” wrote Anna Schmidt, director of residence life, in an email to Hamilton Hall residents. “Take good care of yourselves and each other.”
The University Counseling Center is available as a resource for students from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday through Friday. The center offers after-hours support via phone at 541-346-3227.
Ta-Nehisi Coates, renowned author and public speaker, left the stage at Matthew Knight Arena on Feb. 3 about 35 minutes before his contract with the University of Oregon suggested he would.
Coates, who began speaking to a crowd of 5,548 people at 6 p.m., was scheduled to speak until 7:15. Instead, he was off the stage by 6:40. His schedule also included a question-and-answer period with the crowd, which didn’t occur.
“…online it said the lecture would be an hour and 15 minutes and ended up only being 40 minutes. That was pretty disappointing. What Ta-Nehisi said was very powerful and I am so happy I went, but the logistics were off,” wrote Darian Lightfoot on the UO event page, mirroring the comments of many attendees.
For the speech and preceding UO events, Coates was paid $41,500. Because the speech was part of the School of Journalism and Communication’s Ruhl Lecture series, the entire amount was paid by donors. Tickets for the evening were free and open to the public.
Coates’ visit was tied to UO’s Common Reading program, which provided his book, “Between the World and Me,” to all first-year students at orientation in 2016.
His contract for the engagement, which also outlines reimbursements for travel, lodging and a request for Nature Valley Oats ‘n’ Dark Chocolate Granola Bars, was approved by both parties in April 2016.
UO spokesman Tobin Klinger said Coates’ schedule was negotiated in the writer’s contract and that the university decided to shorten his evening presentation so Coates could meet with more students during an afternoon session. The earlier session was with SOJC students, and though additional students were invited to attend, no time was added to it.
“They wanted to make sure that they were meeting the parameters of the donor’s desires as it relates to the offering of that Ruhl Lecture, so first and foremost that was the goal,” Klinger said.
Many attendees said they expected the evening session to last longer and were surprised when Coates left the stage without taking questions. Klinger said it had previously been decided that the Knight Arena venue would not easily accommodate a Q&A session.
The talk was Coates’ fifth in five days, he announced during his speech. The evening before, he was at Oregon State University where he spoke from 6-7:30 p.m. For that event, he was paid $30,000, according to his contract with the university.
Although there were some late changes to his contract at OSU, which originally said he’d speak until 8 p.m., the change was suggested by the university, according to Mealoha McFadden, director of university events. She said the lost time was added on to student meetings Coates had earlier in the day.
Despite five consecutive speaking engagements, McFadden said Coates’ schedule wasn’t unusual.
“Speakers have that type of schedule all the time,” she said.
The main event at OSU was attended by about 1,200 people, and, despite the size of the crowd, there was a Q&A using pre-submitted questions. Like at UO, the event was open to the public and offered student tickets. It was partially funded by Phi Beta Kappa, a national honorary society.
Coates is represented by The Lavin Agency. Representatives for the company could not be reached for comment. Click the links to read Coates’ full contract with UO and OSU.
A standard vinyl single spins at 45 revolutions per minute on a turntable. As the needle hits the groove and, with each revolution, makes its way around the disc, listeners are treated to the weathered sounds of music as history — every scratch, bend and pop. In the 45 years since House of Records’ founding, its been through just as much.
In June 1971, when “Brown Sugar” by The Rolling Stones topped the charts, Gary Haller, a University of Oregon student, and two friends founded their own record shop. The trio acquired inventory via road trips to San Francisco and brought it back to sell out of Haller’s garage. The store they would visit in California, the Record House, was how their location got its name.
Although it’s always been called the House of Records, the stockpile of vinyl moved through two more locations — operating from card tables and orange crates — before finding a permanent home in the quirky, old blue house on 13th Avenue in 1973.
The charm of the odd building may be part of why it has stuck around. The structure, a nearly 100-year-old-house-turned-storefront, attracts immediate attention streetside. Red trim highlights its stark, blue exterior, and the windows and entranceway are plastered with posters for performances past and future.
Haller, still the owner, now takes a backseat in the day-to-day management. Greg Sutherland, who has worked at House of Records for 30 years, maintains the collection of music, which now contains CDs and cassettes, in addition to vinyl. When he first came to Eugene as a journalism student at UO, Sutherland would take a day a week to shop for records around town or in Portland. House of Records was always his favorite.
(Aaron Nelson/Emerald)
“There were bigger stores, and stores that had way more new product. But the House of Records was interesting,” said Sutherland. “It had an atmosphere, immediately. It was unlike any other record store then.”
Today, in the same house he once frequented as a customer, Sutherland floats between the back office and the front counter, decked in a green suit jacket, filing through an endless backlog of records. A few young clerks huddle near the front desk.
One of them is Levi Sager, a customer who stuck around long enough that he started getting paid — not an uncommon route to employment at House of Records. He described the relationship between staff as familial, saying it made the house feel almost like the set of a ‘60s sitcom.
“Everyone who comes through the door is a guest character,” he said. “We always have our door open to new people to come in and participate in a new way.”
This familiarity comes through in every sale. Unlike big-name electronics stores like Best Buy, the small shop provides a sense of care tailored to each music enthusiast’s needs.
“I think that a lot of people that come to the House of Records are searching for something. They’re looking for that sound or that album, kind of just the next thing musically for them,” said Sager. “I think that part of our job here is helping those people in that quest, in as much as we’re able to.”
That passion for building a connection between customer and curator is a big part of why these little shops still matter, according to the guys behind the counter. Despite that, there’s been an obvious decline in the popularity of vinyl since the store opened its doors in 1971.
“The only way you could get music was to go to a store and buy it. That kept record stores of all types alive for decades,” said Steve Knopper, a contributing editor for Rolling Stone. “The demand for physical units of music is not comparable between now and the ‘70s.”
When Sutherland arrived in 1983, Eugene held 12 unique shops. The city now boasts only two that specialize in the medium. House of Records’ primary competitor today is Skip’s Records & CD World on 11th Avenue.
Rather than celebrate the demise of competition, Sutherland considers it a loss that those other stores closed down. In his experience, vinyl stores each develop their own niche in a way that supports each other.
“Anyone who goes to this place, goes to Skip’s too. If you love records, it wouldn’t be any other way. I wouldn’t believe you,” said Sutherland.
As far as Skip Hermenn is concerned, two record stores in one town is pretty good.
(Aaron Nelson/Emerald)
“It doesn’t happen in America that often anymore,” he said. “There are so many towns the size of Eugene, if not bigger, that don’t even have one record store left.”
His shop, which has been around for about 30 years, carries a larger stock of CDs than House of Records. That specialization helps them separate themselves from the other shop, but the two share a focus on knowledgeable staff. Hermenn showed pride in the edge this gave his store over the corporate world.
“We don’t hire anybody here that doesn’t have knowledge,” said Hermenn.
As powerful as good customer service can be, at Skip’s and House of Records alike, many agree that what has kept vinyl alive is what lies on the shelves. In an industry that pushes more and more toward digitization, shops like these turn music into a physical experience.
“It kind of reminds you that there’s so much out there, and you get to look through it,” said Shawna Gray, a first-time customer on a road trip down the West Coast. “I appreciate that there’s a library still available.”
The feeling is mutual for visitors new and old. Will Lee, who has been coming to House of Records a few times a week for 43 years, can still find something new when picking methodically through the neatly organized shelves.
“I like to take my time, because there’s always something you’re gonna miss,” said Lee. “You should always have a list.”
This archival feeling isn’t necessarily available in digital music. In research for Rolling Stone articles and a lifetime of visiting record stores, Knopper has decided this physical history is one part of why the independent shops still exist.
“They’re like a museum in a lot of ways: Here’s the old format that’s really warm and cool and here’s the old artists and here are the employees that can tell you all about it,” said Knopper. “I miss record stores. I miss searching through the racks.”
Although the classic match-up pits technological progression against retro media, Sager thinks that the new-age world of downloading and streaming services provides a wider view of music that actually supports retail shops. He compared the necessity of both to the trend of online dating — a photo of a potential partner will only take you so far, eventually you want to meet them in person.
(Aaron Nelson/Emerald)
“You can have the idea of something, or you can have the artificial substance of something, but you want to have the flesh and bones reality of that thing,” said Sager. “That’s what makes it complete.”
Even if Sager is right, and services like Spotify and Apple Music don’t spell the end for the long aisles of forgotten vinyl that line the House of Records, no one can say that the future is certain. But for Sutherland, and those that frequent the big, blue house on 13th Avenue, the era of vinyl will never die.
“All of us feel deeply that that is a medium that cannot be perfected or surpassed. It’s a remarkable thing, it’s a romantic story,” he said.
One of the people in the video attends South Eugene. The other two do not, and have no affiliation with the university, based upon Dey’s conversation with his student. Dey said one of the other two involved is African American.
Dey is taking disciplinary action with the South Eugene student, but the action has not yet been determined.
“We’re working with him and the family,” said Dey.
The South Eugene student, who is a minor, posted about the encounter on Facebook.
“Listen I was trying to be racist at the time ok I just wasn’t thinking straight at the time and I saw that I fucked up ok I get it,” the student wrote. According to Dey, the student intended to write that he was not being racist.
“We take this matter extremely seriously. It does not represent our values or our teaching or what we find important about society in this day and age. We are very apologetic to the disruption that it caused the Oregon community and whatever reputation it might cause the university to have on a larger scale,” said Dey. “It’s a highly sensitive topic given recent events on campus and nationally. … I just don’t know if you could have planned it any worse.”
The video was taken by UO student Zoie Gilpin as she left a Black Student Union meeting Wednesday night.
“Blackface is just a thing now? And that’s okay? No, it’s not okay at all,” Gilpin said.
The group was standing in front of the Lillis Business Complex on 13th Avenue, near the Anstett entrance.
“I find this event extremely deplorable. We are horrified that this is happening on our campus. We know that Oregon has a history of racism, but to see it happening right now is shocking,” said ASUO Internal Vice President Zach Lusby after the incident.
“The use of blackface is patently offensive and reinforces historically racist stereotypes,” said UO Interim VP of Student Life Kevin Marbury in an emailed statement to students Wednesday night. The full statement is available here.
This event comes in the wake of a UO law professor being placed on administrative leave for wearing blackface at a Halloween party last week.
In the 24 hours following Donald Trump’s electoral sweep, the University of Oregon erupted with protest as restless students voiced frustration and disillusionment — and then a determination to heal. After taking to Eugene’s streets with chants and tears on Tuesday night, students stood in solidarity by midday Wednesday, ready to overcome.
Colin Buchanan, one of the organizers of the protest said the initial sentiment of the demonstration was “We’re mad. We can’t just sit here and just deal with this. Let’s just go outside. Let’s get some air and just yell and scream.”
“But it turned into something great,” he said.
Many students from the residence halls heard about the gathering via Snapchat and lept to join the march. The small group of students grew into a crowd of upwards of 600 protesters as they moved across campus, some at a run, while the final votes were counted. The group marched down 13th Avenue, looped back to campus and then headed for city hall.
Buchanan said that, having grown up in a diverse community in Los Angeles and being half-Mexican himself, he worries for his friends and family. Fellow organizer Jordan Caines felt similar.
“I fear, but I’m hopeful. I’m hopeful that we can change our situation and do something positive,” said Caines.
Protestors march west down 13th Avenue in Eugene, Oregon, on Nov. 8, 2016. (Adam Eberhardt/Emerald)
“We’re liberal students on this campus and we’re mad that this happened,” said Zuri Starks, a UO student, during the protest. “We all thought it was a joke six months ago.”
University of Oregon Police were alerted to the gathering by EMU security. Officers alerted Eugene Police and walked with the protest as it headed downtown.
Relations between the students and police were friendly: Many passing students shook hands with the officers on duty.
“They’re doing what’s right. They’re protesting what they’re not happy with,” said UOPD Sergeant Scott Clark.
Most of the students chanted anti-Trump sentiments throughout the walk, including “Fuck Donald Trump,” and “Hey hey, ho ho, Donald Trump has got to go.”
But a small group walking alongside the protest offered a returning chorus of “Trump for Prez!”
“I’ve never been afraid to stand for what I believe in. I understand it’s a liberal town but I’ve always been ok with wearing a Trump shirt,” said Abigail Spencer, a student from Phoenix, Arizona, who had voted for Trump. “People have been very mean, flipping [me] off, but it’s ok. It’s what I expected.”
One student with a Trump/Pence sign sprinted from Taylor’s Bar and Grill away from the crowd and up Kincaid Street as the protest returned to campus.
Protestors chant and hold peace signs as they walk to the city hall in Eugene, Oregon, on Nov. 8, 2016. (Kaylee Domzalski/Emerald)
Back at the EMU, the students rallied, sang The Black Eyed Peas’ “Where is the love?” and listened as some spoke about their feelings on the election. Manny Romero, a Mexican UO student, was one of the speakers.
“It’s done, and I didn’t think this joke was going to become a reality,” said Romero. “Unfortunately it’s happening and it’s the beginning of our fight and to demonstrating what we are made of as a Hispanic community, as an LGBTQ community, as a native community, as a black community — show them what we are and where we come from.”
The students then marched back west on 13th Avenue, heading for city hall. After a few more speeches, the group dispersed for the evening, planning to come back the next day.
****
By Wednesday morning, the protests continued, but the intent changed. The anger of the night subsided to conversation about what lies ahead for students of all races and backgrounds.
After a contentious election that focused at times on particular minority groups, many students feel that their place in the country is threatened.
“I am just so disappointed — that Trump is the person that won just represents so many negative thoughts and feelings that are still around,” said Helena Richardson, the community Liaison for the LGBTQIA3. “I thought about not even bothering coming to campus, but that’s not going to solve anything either.”
“I thought about not even bothering coming to campus, but that’s not going to solve anything either.” – Helena Richardson, community Liaison for the LGBTQIA3
Awab Al-Rawe, a graduate student and president of the Arab Student Union at UO, shared similar concerns of safety and belonging.
“I’m in no position to return home. And at this point, my whole status of existence is threatened by the policy he has promised,”he said, referring to Trump’s campaign promise to halt immigration from Muslim or terror-inflicted countries — including Al-Rawe’s home of Iraq.
But Al-Rawe, like many students on Wednesday, expressed acceptance that Trump’s election was democratically decided.
“The best we can do is continue what we’re doing and show we are good community members and we appreciate what we have,” he said. “It’s out of our hands.”
A South Eugene High School student chants into a microphone. Students from the University of Oregon and South Eugene High School rally in the EMU Amphitheater in Eugene, Oregon, on Nov. 9, 2016. (Kaylee Domzalski/Emerald)
Around 200 UO students, joined by 500 from South Eugene High School, marched down 13th Avenue chanting “peace and love” and “a people united will never be divided” — all sentiments contrary to the anger of the night before.
The South Eugene students arrived on campus unexpectedly with megaphones and signs explaining their purpose. The group walked out of their classes earlier that morning to voice their frustration with the election results as a group who couldn’t vote.
The decision to march was “very much centered around the potential of the United States and acceptance that we can have in this country but aren’t currently showing,” said Vanessa Lopez,one of the high school organizers.
The divisive, draining nature of the campaign season led many to extend offers of support and counseling to students upon its conclusion.
Students from a range of campus communities, including the Women’s Center, LGBTQ office under the Dean of Students, the Multicultural Center and the Peer Advising Office, shared locations where students troubled by the election results might find resources.
“We’re here if you need someone to talk to,” said a student from the Peer Advising Office to the crowd of demonstrators.
Students cheer for speakers. Students from the University of Oregon and South Eugene High School rally in the EMU Amphitheater in Eugene, Oregon, on Nov. 9, 2016. (Kaylee Domzalski/Emerald)
For those openly supporting the victorious candidate, there is little community to be found.
“It was actually kind of scary to be honest with you,” said Jackson, who requested his full name not be used in interest of his safety. He added that someone hit his “Make America Great Again” hat off his head while he was out celebrating on Tuesday night.
“To be honest, that was the first time I wore that hat out of my house,” he said.
Jackson, who grew more and more quiet during classes as his professors spoke out against Trump, hopes the end of the election will signal a return to normality.
“I’m going to keep focusing on school,” he said. “Things will sort themselves out.”
A number of protests are planned for the coming days, but as Wednesday drew to a close, the desire to move ahead felt more defined than party lines.
“I think that the most important learning experience of this is that we as a community should get involved,” said Carolina Arredondo Sanchez Lira, an international student from Mexico. “We should realize and recognize that there are divisions within our community. That we differ in many things, but still, we should fight together. We should fight for a common good.”
Connor Kwiecien, Braedon Kwiecien, Hannah Steinkopf-Frank, Anna Lieberman and Desiree Bergstrom contributed reporting to this article.
Hundreds of University of Oregon students gathered on campus just after 11 p.m. on Tuesday night to protest the election of Donald Trump as President of the United States.
The group, which at its height was estimated to be more than 600, marched from the EMU, down 13th Avenue and neared downtown Eugene before looping back to the EMU.
“We’re liberal students on this campus and we’re mad that this happened,” said Zuri Starks, a UO student marching with the group. “We all thought it was a joke six months ago.”
Many students in the original crowd had come from the on-campus dorms, hearing about the gathering via Snapchat.
University of Oregon Police were alerted to the gathering by EMU security. Officers walked with the protest as it headed downtown and alerted Eugene Police.
“They’re doing what’s right, they’re protesting what they’re not happy with,” said UOPD Sergeant Scott Clark. “I’m just concerned that somebody is gonna get hit by a car.”
Once they’d returned to the EMU after the initial loop on 13th Avenue, the students rallied and listened as some spoke about their feelings on the election.
“I was basically saying that this fight is not over,” said Tommy Thomas, one of the students who spoke at the amphitheater. “This election is not the end of what we believe in.”
The students then marched back down 13th Avenue, heading for city hall.
This story is ongoing, more to come.
Connor Kwiecien contributed reporting to this article.
Meghan Siġvanna Topkok grew up with half an identity.
On her mother’s side, Meghan is a white Oregonian. But on her father’s side, Meghan is Native Alaskan. Although John Topkok spent some of his youth in Ambler, Alaska, and his mother was Iñupiat (ee-NYOOP-ee-at), he was raised at a time when Native Americans were treated like second-class citizens.
“He always considered himself to be white on the inside, and brown on the outside,” Meghan’s mother, Lisa Holub, said. “He definitely didn’t want to be identified with Native culture.”
Meghan grew up in Oregon and Alaska under her father’s cultural detachment. A University of Oregon environmental law student, Meghan plans on returning to Alaska with an education that will allow her to advocate for Native American causes.
Meghan Siġvanna Topkok aspires to be an advocate for Native American rights. (Courtesy of Meghan Siġvanna Topkok)
Meghan, 25, is part of a generation of Native Americans who feel more pride in their heritage. Over hundreds of years, Native Americans have struggled to adapt to an oppressive foreign culture. Meghan seeks to break that cycle.
And Alaska Natives need legal leadership, particularly from their own people. With a huge Native population — more than 14 percent, according to the 2013 Census — the state’s villages are in dire need of outspoken leaders.
Beyond that, Alaskan Native culture is unique in its structure. Due to the 1971 Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act, many of the reservations transformed into corporations. While perhaps well-intentioned, the change put Native Alaskans in a more precarious legal and economic position than many other places. But Meghan sees this as an opportunity.
“It’s difficult because we live in a very different world than our ancestors. I think the beauty of our culture is that we learn to adapt to our needs within the community,” Meghan said.
Meghan saw the strength of this community through the summers she spent in Alaska.
“I miss having that connection. Especially if I ever have kids myself, I want them to grow up knowing our land and our traditions and our language,” Meghan said.
But because of her father’s aversion to his history, Meghan had a difficult time placing who she really was.
This sense of identity loss is common among Native Americans, particularly in a situation like Meghan’s. Without a role model, she was left to wonder if her Native identity had any relevance in the world.
“When that identity is attacked or devalued,” Meghan said, “[It] severely impacts how a person sees themselves and how they relate to the rest of the world. There’s a lot lost.”
Meghan attributes part of this loss to the way western society has tried to shoehorn Native culture into its own concepts of normality.
“I think dealing with that trauma around identity led to things like substance abuse in our communities,” she said.
Native Americans are five times more likely to die from alcohol-related causes than whites, according to the U.S. Surgeon General. John Topkok was no exception. As he struggled to balance multiple jobs, he spent the little time he had at home drinking. Even at a young age, Meghan was critical of his behavior and how it affected the family. The two argued often.
Just before Thanksgiving in 2001, John was returning home in a small twin-engine plane from Reno, Nevada. He was caught in a powerful storm and was swept into a mountain. John, and four others, died instantly. Meghan was 11.
She vividly remembers her mother receiving the call.
“She picked up the phone and she just totally broke down,” Meghan said.
The tragedy left Holub to support Meghan and her brother. But it didn’t stop her from wanting a better future for her children.
“She ended up dropping out before she finished her degree, and I think that kind of motivated her to really instill in me the value of education,” Meghan said.
Meghan pushed through bullying and isolation in school, then took advantage of the Running Start program at Clark Community College in Vancouver, Washington, where she spent her last two years of high school obtaining college credits. Her sights were set high for the future. Meghan applied to Stanford, Yale, Columbia and Dartmouth.
Dartmouth turned out to be exactly the experience she needed to reconnect with her roots.
The school, founded in part “for the education and instruction of Youth of the Indian Tribes in this Land,” did little to live up to that reputation for 200 years — graduating only 19 Native American students in that time. However, since a renewed mission statement in 1970, over 700 Native American students have attended the school, more than at all the other Ivy League institutions combined.
Meghan majored in Native American Studies and minored in linguistics. Her dedication at Dartmouth earned her accolades and grants for research in Alaska.
“That was where, I think in a lot of ways, I became more empowered to appreciate and want to know more about my culture,” Meghan said.
Bruce Duthu, JD, a professor of Native American studies at Dartmouth and Meghan’s senior thesis supervisor, said that Meghan’s strongest trait is her ability to approach problems with humility — a quality that allows her to consider multiple perspectives.
“Her humility comes from a position of inquiry, interest and wanting to change things for the better,” Duthu said. “She’s in a position to be a very effective advocate.”
Meghan’s transition from immersion in Native American culture at Dartmouth to the UO law school wasn’t entirely smooth; her peers and professors often didn’t understand her perspective as a Native American. But she sees the education as a necessity.
“Unfortunately, in order to have our voices heard or have some legitimacy, we do have to have these western degrees, this knowledge, to be taken seriously,” Meghan said.
Fighting the system this way can be frustrating. But Meghan and others aren’t ready to give up.
“We’re not done. Not by a long shot,” Duthu said. “We still very much need talented, young, energetic people like Meghan who are fired up.”
After law school, Meghan aspires to work on the Alaska Supreme Court or in Washington D.C. with a federal agency to support change from afar. From this platform, she wants to act as a legal interpreter between two very different systems of tradition and culture — a role she has always played on a personal level.
“We always incorporated new technologies and adapted things from other cultures for our benefit,” Meghan said. “I don’t think it’s possible to go back to the way our ancestors lived — and nor should we. I think moving forward means adapting and learning and taking the best of both worlds and incorporating it into one.”
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Identical twins, actually. Ben and David Eder are two of the four recipients set to receive the 2015 Outstanding Young Alumnus Award. The award recognizes great achievements in a law career within 10 years of graduation. The award ceremony will take place at the alumni reunion dinner on Sept. 25 at the Ford Alumni Center.
The twins both attended the University of Washington for their undergraduate studies and both graduated from the University of Oregon School of Law in 2005. They went into law for similar reasons, both inspired by their grandfather — also a lawyer. Now, the twins work for the same firm in Portland: Thuemmel Uhle & Eder.
Ben (left) and David as children.
Ben Eder
Ben works mostly in criminal law. He saw the reliability of the profession and the steady income which it provided. For Ben, it was the summer between 1L and 2L (the first two years of law school) at the UO School of Law that pushed him to become a practicing lawyer. He worked for the summer as an intern at the King County Prosecutor’s Office.
Once Ben realized the courtroom was where he wanted to be, his first step was to learn from the best. He asked around and compiled a list of the best trial lawyers in Oregon; then he watched them work.
“It was somewhat akin to stalking,” Ben joked.
But the persistence paid off. After spending enough time around the small legal community in the Portland area, he was offered a job at one of the firms he’d been following, Thuemmel Uhle.
In 2012, Ben became a partner at the firm, now Thuemmel Uhle & Eder. In 2013 and 2014, Ben was listed as one of the top 100 trial lawyers by the National Trial Lawyers and is now considered a featured presenter on DUI defense, cross examination of police, DMV hearings and jury selection.
Ben enjoys traveling in his free time, a passion shared by his trilingual wife. The two spent their honeymoon in Italy last year.
As for the future, Ben isn’t going anywhere.
“I’ve been so happy doing what I’m doing,” he said. “I just feel really blessed.”
David (left) and Ben with their parents, Sharon and Norman Eder.
David Eder
David works mostly in civil law. He saw the happiness his grandfather had in working with people as a lawyer. For David, it was that same summer between 1L and 2L that affirmed his career path. He spent the summer working at the Multnomah County District Attorney’s Office.
“It turned out to be something I’m really passionate about,” David said. “I loved doing it.”
The summer was a career opportunity as well as a chance for the brothers to spend some time apart, to “meet people who didn’t know they were twins,” David said.
After graduation, David worked for a time as the assistant city attorney with the City of Beaverton, Ore. David’s work focused mostly on D.U.I.I. cases and traffic crimes. In 2010, David developed a program to help underemployed and unemployed lawyers receive training from nonprofit organizations. The American Bar Association named it the Young Lawyer Section Program of the Year.
The twins were reunited at Thuemmel Uhle & Eder in Oct. 2014 when David joined the firm at which his brother had become a partner.
“The day I joined they took his last name down and put mine up,” he joked.
David has two children with his wife, Sara Eder, who he met in law school. He says he wouldn’t change where he’s at for anything.
“I like being around people. When work is fulfilling and I enjoy it, it doesn’t feel like I need as much downtime,” David said. “I hope to be exactly where I am for the rest of my life. Our roots are set.”
David (left) with his wife, Sara, and their two children and Ben (right) with his wife, Kaori.
The twins showed their synchronicity when asked about their feelings on the imminent award.
“It’s a really nice honor. There are a lot of really amazing lawyers that would be as good or better candidates,” said Ben.
David described mixed emotions of excitement as well as confusion.
“There are a lot of people that could have and probably should have received this award who are equally deserving if not more,” he said.
It seems like, along with ambition and achievement, humility runs in the Eder family.
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According to an article by the Statesman Journal, a vote by the Service Employees International Union Local 503 approved a new contract on Aug. 17. The agreement was approved by 95 percent of the voting SEIU representatives.
The new contract includes dropping the mandatory paycheck contribution to the Public Employee Retirement System. This contribution will now be made by employees themselves as a pre-tax deduction, offset by a 6.95 percent increase in pay. These changes will take place in Nov. 2016.
The new contract also results in a 1.48 percent cost of living increase in Dec. 2015 and a 2.75 percent increase in Dec. 2016. As well as a reduced health care premium for workers and one more paid day of leave per year (set for the Friday after Thanksgiving.)
The SEIU Local 503 represents over 55,000 service workers in the area.
Revision: To clarify, this compromise does not affect the university workers that are employed by the 7 universities in Oregon. That portion of members in SEIU 503 is still without a contract. The potential for a strike by University of Oregon workers during move-in week remains high.
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The Eugene Emerald’s honored Civic Stadium, which burned in a massive fire on Monday Night, during Tuesdays game against the Tri-City Dust Devils by wearing jerseys from every decade that the Ems played at Civic. While none of these players had the opportunity to play at Civic, the loss was felt throughout PK Park.
Left fielder Ricardo Marcano was one of only a few players to wear the dark blue throw-back jersey. (Cooper Green/Emerald)
Ian Happ, the Cubs’ 2015 first-round draft pick, sported a jersey that still had the former players name on it. (Cooper Green/Emerald)
Kevonte Mitchell after a strikeout. (Cooper Green/Emerald)
Tyler Alamo leads off at first. (Cooper Green/Emerald)
The coaching staff also wore jerseys commemorating the fallen Civic Stadium. (Cooper Green/Emerald)
Third baseman Blake Headley stole second while wearing the white and blue retro jersey. (Cooper Green/Emerald)
Sluggo wore the usual uniform, accompanied by a robe in honor of The Big Lebowski night at PK Park. (Cooper Green/Emerald)
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