The Architect was born a century ago at the confluence of three rivers, where nature carved a perfect spot for trout. “Not so good for humans, though,” because the land was hard and isolated. Four distinct trails led Native Americans to and from the fresh water, but only a handful of people ever put down roots.
His family left quickly, too, following his physician father to Spokane, where a hospital had been built for homeless patients and orphan children. The building was a Beaux Arts castle, with tall ceilings and big windows that invited light and air into lives that had known little of either. “In it I saw the gift that order can bring to chaos,” he said.