Clarence Puts A Shine On Troubles

He’s a beloved fixture in this city, as irreplaceable as the Clock Tower or Carrousel at Riverfront Park.

Downtown Spokane wouldn’t be the same without its unofficial ambassador of goodwill - Clarence Forech.

“People care about me, I know that,” he says during a brief break Monday morning.

“And it still amazes me. When I first started, one of my friends warned me, `No white person is ever gonna care about you. You’re just a shoeshiner.”’ True enough, Clarence shines shoes. And yes, he is black.

But let the stereotypes end here. Clarence, 56, has heard them all anyway. He pays it no mind.

Clarence loves working the shoe stand next to the front door in the Nordstrom men’s clothing department. It’s his stage and he’s been the performing artist in residence since 1980. That’s the year he got laid off from a construction project and spied a newspaper ad for a shoeshine guy.

In two decades, Clarence has generated a million bucks’ worth of good PR for Nordstrom with his richhumored patter.

The aforementioned cynic was dead wrong. There is no color barrier for caring about Clarence. His fans are legion.

Clarence is a shirt-sleeve philosopher. He keeps customers spellbound with his quick wit and warm observations about life, sports and race relations.

“His job is really not about shining shoes,” says Spokane attorney Bob Dunn, “it’s about making people feel good. You get a bonus by having your shoes shined.”

These days Dunn and others who frequent the shoe stand are worried about their friend.

Clarence has cancer.

Two years ago, surgeons removed a tennis ball-sized tumor from his intestines and put him on chemotherapy. Clarence shudders. “Nasty stuff. Poison fighting poison.”

The cancer went into hiding for nearly 12 months. Then the pain began biting at his insides again.

More surgery was scheduled for July 5. Clarence put it off until July 19 so he could bankroll a little more money before taking a leave. In the meantime, he’s been popping pain pills and still trying to make others feel good.

“I’m scared, yeah,” he says. “Pray for me. I thought I was over it.”

Recovering from such an operation usually takes six to eight weeks. Clarence’s wife, Kathleen, will be filling in for her husband. But he is determined to return to work Aug. 20, the day the new Nordstrom will open.

On the first floor, he says, is a shoeshine stand fit for a king. “They call it Clarence’s Place,” he adds. “It’s twice as big with two telephones. Top of the art!”

Clarence loves to tell about how he got here. He was a kid in Pine Bluff, Ark., he says, when a group of men chased him down to the railroad tracks. They beat him senseless and tossed him into a moving boxcar.

Two weeks later Clarence found himself in Spokane.

He stayed and finished his senior year at Lewis and Clark High School. He joined the Air Force after that and then pursued an education degree at Eastern Washington University on the G.I. Bill.

His mother’s death sent him into an emotional spiral. Angry at the world, Clarence says he bounced in and out of jobs and was not the nice man people now know.

He never dreamed he would find a career shining shoes, but life has a habit of being unpredictable.

“I have fun. I meet a lot of people. I love what I do,” he says. “If I didn’t go to church on Sunday I’d work seven days a week right here.

“I consider myself a successful businessman.”

A lot of people would agree.

“I used to go to a shrink and then I found Clarence,” quips Gonzaga University’s Rev. John Mossi, who dropped in Monday morning for a shine. “You walk out feeling positive and with happy feet.

“This is the best deal in town.”