Deep Dives

Articles

Longform stories and essays exploring Portland's history, culture, and untold stories.

Portland with Mt. Hood in the background

The Dream of the Nineties

How a coin toss, 200 feet of rain, and a generation of California refugees built America's most self-conscious city

Public stairway on Alameda Ridge in Northeast Portland, Oregon

Portland's Secret Stairways: A City Built for Walking, Then Abandoned for Driving

In the early 1900s, Portland built 400 public stairways to connect streetcar lines to hillside neighborhoods. Workers used them to walk to factories. Kids used them to get to school. Then cars arrived, the streetcars died, and the stairways were forgotten. Today, about 200 remain — hidden urban infrastructure from an era when cities were designed for feet, not wheels.

Aerial view of Vanport, Oregon during the 1948 flood that destroyed the city

The Vanport Flood: A City Erased in 35 Minutes

Vanport was Oregon's second-largest city by 1948, home to 18,500 people — including most of Portland's Black population. On May 30, 1948, officials assured residents the dikes would hold. At 4:17 PM, they didn't. The city was underwater in 35 minutes. It was never rebuilt. The flood permanently reshaped Portland.

Dr. Marie Equi: Portland's Lesbian Anarchist Doctor

In the early 1900s, Dr. Marie Equi was one of Portland's most prominent physicians — and one of its most dangerous radicals. She provided abortions and birth control when both were illegal, lived openly with her female partner, adopted a child in one of America's first same-sex families, and was imprisoned for sedition. She was called "the most dangerous woman in Oregon." This is her story.

Mill Ends Park, a tiny circular park in a traffic median

Mill Ends Park: The World's Smallest Park

In 1948, Portland newspaper columnist Dick Fagan looked out his office window and saw a leprechaun digging in an abandoned hole in a traffic median. He caught the leprechaun, wished for a park, and got exactly what he asked for: a circle two feet across, officially the world's smallest park. For decades it had a tiny swimming pool, hosted snail races, and was home to "the only leprechaun colony west of Ireland." Portland has never stopped being weird.