Enterprise/DUSTY LOCKE — Alisa and Jerry Fries spend much of their free time participating in the Society for Creative Anachronism, an international group dedicated to researching and re-creating pre-17th-century European history.
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Enterprise/DUSTY LOCKE — Alisa and Jerry Fries spend much of their free time participating in the Society for Creative Anachronism, an international group dedicated to researching and re-creating pre-17th-century European history. |
Ever since he was a little boy, Bothell resident Jerry Fries has felt he was born in the wrong era. He belongs in Steinbeck's book The Acts of King Arthur and his Noble Knights, but he's stuck in the modern world. It's a paradox that he stands abridged in two worlds, for he's a king in one and a garbage truck driver in the other.
Fries holds the highest honor possible in a non-profit organization called the Society for Creative Anachronism (SCA). His peers appointed him king and his wife Alisa queen for six months. The goal of the SCA is to recreate the medieval ages as close to realism as possible.
"That's avoiding the Inquisition and the Black Plague," said Fries with a laugh. He's known as King Nicholaus in the SCA, which boasts 70,000 registered members worldwide. "And we're on all seven continents," Fries said.
The SCA is a repository of knowledge, Fries said. "Truck drivers, physicists, scientists, it's an amazing representation of intellect." Of course there's history buffs like Fries - that's how the SCA began, as a backyard barbeque in Berkeley, CA, with a bunch of history majors throwing a birthday party. Recreating Camelot in the Day of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere was so fun that the enthusiasm spread.
It caught fire in Alaska, too, where Fries grew up and met his future bride at an SCA dance. It's taken him ten years, but he finally laid a kingdom at his lady's feet. To do that, he's jousted in tournaments, fought fairly and with honor, and made choices deemed gentile by his peers. His idea of chivalry is not simply saving a damsel in distress. In fact, the SCA attracts strong women, said Fries. The idea of chivalry is to protect the defenseless, to become a master of combat. A defenseless person could be a child, the elderly, or a sleeping friend, he said. It could be child dying from cancer who smiles when a knight in shining armor pays him a visit.
The appeal of the SCA is its focus on equality, said Fries. It's not how much you earn, or how pretty you are, but who you are, that counts. "To hold equal with all persons of all stations," that's the creed. It's refreshing, Fries said.
He hopes that the goals of the SCA reach far and that in his term as King he serves his obligation 100 percent. The primary boon of being king, he said, is giving out awards to the deserving.
"You're not made a knight, you're recognized," said Fries. "You're judged by the life you live." In other words, do you keep your commitments and are you respectful to others? These are the critical elements, he said.
After working all day driving a garbage truck and coming home to handle SCA correspondence, Fries doesn't have much time left for his passion, being a bladesmith. His knives are beautiful, with a silver and black pattern of forged Damascus. His wife, Queen Allysia, said it's the respect, camaraderie, and sense of history that make the SCA a worthy organization. "We go back to the basics." So many people are dependent on technology, she said, but would they know how to survive in a crisis? The SCA encourages its members to bring forward their skills. That means Fries could perfect his bladesmithing, she could become a master laurel seamstress, others could write, cook, record, create, or fashion a world sufficient unto itself.
The Fries' son, Barak, 10, and tiny two-year-old Anna-Theresa, 2, will probably follow their parent's footsteps in the SCA. Bothell resident Nicole Palmer said the Fries are worthy leaders. "I think he's a very good king." When Fries teaches younger men combat, "he's very patient, soft-spoken and very kind." The queen, said Palmer, "is dedicated to her students in teaching them her craft, sewing."
At social benefits, "it's something to see these big guys get all teary when a little kid gets cancer or a buddy becomes a knight," Palmer said.
Palmer believes one reason the SCA keeps attracting more people is because "people like a little fantasy." There's not enough romance in the modern world, she said.
Fries heartily agrees.
For more information on The hierarchy of Society for Creative Anachronisms go to www.antir.sca.org.
Lisa Weatherwax is a freelance writer who lives in Bothell.
