Matt Driscoll
Kay Treakle took on oil tankers and nuclear reactors. Cancer took the Tacoma activist too soon.
Kay Treakle, according to her longtime husband, Bruce Hoeft, was fearless and funny. Blunt and unflinching. Strategic and whip smart. Tireless, empathetic and a constant advocate for the underdog.
Treakle, an accomplished and steadfast environmental activist who died June 10 at the age of 65 after a two-year battle with liver cancer, was also unquestionably Tacoma, until the very end, Hoeft explained.
“She just wanted to get (expletive) done, always,” Hoeft, said Tuesday, channeling a small slice of his wife’s no-nonsense style.
“Be of use. Get it done. That’s the Grit City part of her,” Hoeft said of his wife, who grew up under the toxic plume of the Asarco smelter and used the experience as fuel for the decades she spent fighting for people and communities, and against the powerful, moneyed interests ravaging the planet.
Ultimately, Hoeft believes it was the Asarco pollution from her childhood that led to her cancer diagnosis.
Prior to her death, it’s an assessment Treakle agreed with.
“I grew up in a neighborhood that was an urban dumping ground for a multitude of contaminants that would eventually be found to cause cancer, respiratory illness, and other diseases,” Treakle wrote in a yet-to-be-published essay shortly before succumbing to cancer. “I spent my entire childhood playing in the neighborhood, unaware that every single day I was exposed to the byproducts of smelting copper: arsenic, lead, sulfur dioxide, and other toxic pollutants.”
One of four siblings, Treakle’s passion and fight was influenced by her family’s blue collar upbringing, Hoeft said. Her father spent years working on the Tideflats. In his downtime he called square dances. Treakle, who was a second grade state accordion champion, went straight from high school graduation to the workforce, as was her family’s custom. Later in life she earned a degree from The Evergreen State College.
Treakle’s career as an environmental activist began somewhat by chance in the late 1970s, Hoeft recalled. A promotional tour brought a Greenpeace anti-whaling vessel to Pier 70 in Seattle, where Treakle was working at a nearby bagel shop. She had already been active protesting for civil rights and against the Vietnam War, and after touring the ship, Treakle quickly signed up as a volunteer, Hoeft said.
Soon, Treakle had been hired to manage Greenpeace’s fledgling Seattle office. In short order, she would go on to work for Greenpeace USA and Greenpeace International, directing numerous campaigns from offices in Washington, D.C. and San Francisco.
While Treakle’s name might not be immediately familiar, the causes she championed — and the environmental battles she successfully waged in the Pacific Northwest and across the globe — are the stuff of activism legend.
Whether it meant protesting the Washington Public Power Supply System nuclear power plant in Satsop, or blocking a massive oil tanker in the Puget Sound with an inflatable dinghy to draw attention to the dangers of a proposed pipeline from Port Angeles to Anacortes, in her younger days Treakle was often found at the center of the action.
Both actions led to Treakle’s arrest and widespread media attention.
The latter was the point, and neither project was completed.
“My dad was so proud of her. He just loved that,” said Karen Hofmann, Treakle’s older sister. “He thought it was fabulous that she was out there getting arrested for her passions.”
Treakle, however, also had a shrewd, tactical streak that served her well throughout her career.
After roughly a decade spent working for Greenpeace, Treakle went on to serve as executive director of the nonprofit Bank Information Center, where she fought for people and communities bearing the negative environmental impact by projects funded by international development banks. Notably, Treakle helped thwart a proposed dam in Paraguay that would have flooded wetlands and inhabited areas.
Eventually, Treakle returned to Tacoma, where she spent more than 13 years as the executive director of the Harder Foundation, until her illness forced her into reluctant retirement in 2019.
“Lots of times when we think about environmental heroes, we think of them as … people who fight for everything,” said Melissa Malott, executive director of Citizens for a Healthy Bay, one of many organizations the Harder Foundation provided grants to under Treakle’s leadership.
“Kay was strategic. She knew when to fight and when to protest. She knew when to get the right messenger,” Malott said. “I think the thing that made her tick is she didn’t like that people would profit off of things that would hurt normal everyday people
Malott said Treakle also became an “inspiration and a confidant.”
“She had this way of cutting through the BS and knowing what the priority was: making sure that people aren’t being hurt,” Malott said. “So often now (environmental) issues get put into this ivory tower speak. She just knew it, from her everyday experiences, in real life.”
According to Hoeft, returning to the Pacific Northwest one day was always part of the family’s plan.
What did Treakle think of the Tacoma she found upon her return, with the Asarco smelter long gone but pressing environmental threats — like the potential expansion of fossil fuel in the port — still ever present?
“God, I wish she was here to answer. She’d have you laughing in a heartbeat, because it would be such a pissy response,” Hoeft said.
“I think she was thrilled that Tacoma is so much cleaner than it was when she was growing up,” Hoeft added.
“But there’s still a lot of work yet to be done.”
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