Ilse and Brad aren't kidding when they say Fremont is "rapidly debasing." They'll be evacuating soon. Today was one of the last days of the Fremont Sunday Market. There was a chill in the air, signalling the abrupt change from Seattle summer to winter. Also in the air were the noxious tar fumes from Susie Burke's new behemoth view-killing office building's roof being poured--a real turn-off, like someone farting in church. Two weeks ago PBS cameras were here documenting one of the best flea markets in the country. Last week it was CNN featuring Steve Villegas and his utilikilts concept, the success of which he attributes 100% to the Market. But more than being a no-overhead venue for independent vendors, it's been a place for people to gather. For Boma it's a reminder of the public markets of his homeland Cameroon where commerce took a back seat to community, similar to the Greek agora. It didn't take much to make it happen--just a parking lot where movies could be shown on Saturday nights and junkers, artists, and farmers could assemble on Sunday to sell their goods. But not for much longer--all that has to go to make way for high-rent chain stores, overpriced condos, and parking garages. They call it progress. Fremont, like any gentrified area, is a victim of its own success. People want what it's got--tolerance, eccentricity, and a place to gather for no clear reason other than the comfort afforded by an artificial extended family--and grabbing for it kill the thing they lusted after but never knew well enough to nurture, love, and become a part of.