Ex-Columnist Don Hannula Is Dead At 67

Don Hannula, the former Seattle Times columnist best known for his unflinching advocacy for human rights and economic fairness, died yesterday at his Seattle home. He was 67 and had been diagnosed recently with cancer.

During 42 years of journalism, 30 of them at The Times, Mr. Hannula earned a reputation for meticulous fairness frequently laced with blunt humor - qualities that won friends and widespread credibility.

"Don possessed a basic grittiness and humanity that connected with real people," said Times Publisher Frank Blethen. "He championed fairness and inclusiveness long before it became fashionable."

Those deep-seated impulses may have been rooted in his ethnic heritage and childhood.

Mr. Hannula was born in 1931 in Aberdeen, where his father, a Finnish immigrant, ran a fish market. There he gained an early affinity for the conditions faced by American Indians, many of whom sold their fish to the Hannula family business.

He was a champion swimmer at Aberdeen High School, winning the state title and setting a state record for the backstroke.

Mr. Hannula went on to Washington State University, earning a degree in journalism before going to work at the Yakima Herald in 1954. His career was interrupted briefly by the military draft in 1956. Even in the Army, he continued to write sports stories for a Pasco paper under an alias - Don Finn.

The pseudonym was but a thin disguise for a man who, for decades, insisted friends call him "The Finn," or better still, "The Fabulous Finn."

After his discharge from the military, Mr. Hannula returned briefly to the Yakima newspaper before being hired by The News Tribune in Tacoma, where he covered, among other issues, the struggle between Indian fishermen and state officials at Frank's Landing, traditional salmon-fishing grounds of the Nisqually Indians.

Billy Frank, a young tribal fisherman repeatedly jailed for asserting his fishing rights on the Nisqually River, recalled Mr. Hannula as the crew-cut reporter who "looked like an FBI agent."

"But we always knew he would give us fair, honest coverage," Frank said. "That was all we could ask."

Those struggles ultimately led to the federal decision that interpreted 19th-century treaties to mean tribes are entitled to half the salmon returning to Puget Sound rivers.

As a columnist, Mr. Hannula continued to explain that decision. The tribes had surrendered virtually everything for their fishing rights, and there was no going back. He wrote: "A deal's a deal."

He crusaded with the American Indians despite his own links with non-Indian commercial fishing and his years as a sports fisherman on Puget Sound.

"Don was always for the underdog," said his wife, Gene Hannula, with whom he celebrated 40 years of marriage in May.

In addition to his profession, Mr. Hannula was devoted to his family. Throughout the years, co-workers heard of each accomplishment of his two sons, John and Jim Hannula. Eighteen months ago, snapshots Mr. Hannula proudly pulled from his wallet to show friends included, for the first time, a grandchild, Max Hannula, born to John and his wife, Mara, of Bethesda, Md.

In 1966, Mr. Hannula was hired by The Times, which assigned him to the growing civil-rights and anti-Vietnam War demonstrations. He meticulously covered all sides.

After more than 20 years as a reporter, he spent several years as an assistant city editor, supervising The Times' coverage of government and politics.

In 1985, he moved to the editorial staff, where he wrote editorials and a weekly column. In that job, he met regularly with senators, presidential hopefuls and other powerful people. But Mr. Hannula left little doubt whom he identified with.

"Don had an ability to cut through the BS to how something was going to affect real people," Blethen said.

Mr. Hannula was also highly competitive, playing Thursday afternoon pickup basketball at a neighborhood gymnasium until his retirement at age 65, amazing younger colleagues with an unerring hook shot and lightning-quick hands. In tribute, more than 35 people showed up to pack the floor for his last game at the Immanuel Lutheran Church gym. Mr. Hannula made the winning shot.

Upon hearing of Mr. Hannula's recent illness, those playing at the gym videotaped and dedicated a game to him in which they took only hook shots.

Hannula family gatherings, while free-spirited, almost always included a competitive event, said Jim Hannula of Seattle. "He just always had to be competing at something," Jim said. Gatherings of nieces and nephews invariably included an athletic event, ranging from touch-football games to bowling matches.

Mr. Hannula also continued to swim regularly. Billy Frank recalls sitting with his family at the Arboretum and watching his old friend emerge unexpectedly from Lake Washington.

While he took his profession seriously, Mr. Hannula also loved to laugh. He was a habitual practical joker, dispatching false messages to his colleagues, then sitting back to observe their reactions.

He couldn't resist a bawdy joke. A reporter friend recalled telling him an off-color joke. Minutes later, Mr. Hannula could be seen repeating the joke from desk to desk, pockets of guilty laughter erupting across the newsroom.

Over the years, he won dozens of journalism awards for spot-news coverage, columns, editorials, human-interest features and humorous writing.

Readers may recall his annual column on St. Urho, the fictional patron saint of Finnish Americans whose day is celebrated, conveniently, the day before St. Patrick's Day.

"The Urho skeptics have not read the published question: Did St. Urho discover America?" Mr. Hannula said in 1996. "Of course, he didn't. America discovered him. St. Urho still is unheard of in much of Finland. News travels slow to my fatherland."

The deceit was pure fun, welcome relief from the daily editorial dosage of budget deficits and campaign commentary.

So was the annual Finnish independence day, during which Mr. Hannula commandeered his bosses' office for a "traditional" feast of smoked salmon and Cougar Gold cheese, refusing to leave until his colleagues stood for the Finnish national anthem.

Mr. Hannula regularly revisited other, more serious topics. Gas prices, for example.

"Lectures in logic from the major oil companies are more slippery than a dip stick," he wrote in 1994. "Big Oil's pricing practices are among the great mysteries of life. This is a good time of year to reflect on them. Pump prices are climbing - as they always do when we approach summer. Sometimes, it's creep. Sometimes, it's leap."

When Mr. Hannula decided to retire on Aug. 1, 1996, he said in a final commentary: "I spent years building a reputation for being a fair and unbiased reporter. Then I destroyed it by getting into the opinion racket."

Although he asked for no fanfare on his retirement, friends and co-workers organized a party and roast that drew dignitaries including then-Gov. Mike Lowry, former Gov. Al Rosellini and former Seattle Mayor Charles Royer.

After retiring, Mr. Hannula traveled and spent more time on his 18-foot fishing boat - carefully not catching any fish, he said. He also took great pleasure in becoming a grandfather.

In addition to his wife, sons and grandson, he is survived by a brother, Dick Hannula, of Tacoma.

A funeral has been set for 11:30 a.m. Friday at St. Joseph Catholic Church, 18th Avenue East and East Aloha Street in Seattle. The family suggests remembrances to Northwest Chinook Recovery, a nonprofit organization promoting salmon-habitat recovery work, 19435 184th Pl. N.E., Woodinville, WA 98072.

Ross Anderson's phone-message number is 206-464-2061. Seattle Times staff reporter Dave Birkland contributed to this report.