Who Will Find Solace in the Soft Waters of Soap Lake?
Autumn in Soap Lake arrives abruptly after Labor Day, signaled by empty beaches and “VACANCY” signs at the local motels. On a bright, midweek day in September, the silence is interrupted only by the odd hay truck, rumbling down Highway 17 and barely slowing down through town, where the innkeepers grimly contemplate the prospect of another long winter. This isn’t right, says Gordon Tift as he hobbles through the town’s lakefront park. Soap Lake deserves better. He has spent much of his 80 years along these sudsy shores, waiting for lightning to strike. Then, just a few weeks ago, it did. “I woke up in the middle of the night, sat straight up and had this . . . well, sort of a vision,” Tift says, wide-eyed with excitement. “Think Stonehenge. Five statues, solid rock, maybe 25 or 30 feet tall, right here in the city park and looking out across the lake . . . “Only they’re a rock band! The rhythm-guitar player is over here, the lead guitar there next to the female vocalist, the keyboard pl
