Hi.

My name is "Beaverton" Bill Smiley. I imagine there's a lot of you folks out there who want to know more about this fascinating creature and I suppose I'm the guy to inform you. Not too much is known about him - he's pretty mysterious to say the least. But I'll tell you everything I can.

Ok, where can I begin? Well first off, Kenny and I are part of a superhero team in Portland, OR.

Let me start by telling you a bit about myself. I've been a superhero since, oh, about the late 1800's I guess. I'm a founding member of the RCC, or the "Rose City Champions". It was waaaaay back in the summer of 1886 when I was swimming in a river in Beaverton (Oregon) when I found a shiny, unidentifiable gem at the bottom of the river among the rocks.

To make a long story short, this gem (which I later named the "Longevity Gem") gave me all of my super-strength and longevity powers which keep me going strong until this very day. Although I'm sure I'm feeling the same aches and pains as a 70-year-old man is feeling, I still got some fight left in me.

Anyhow, I suspect Kenny was the original owner of the Longevity Gem long before I discovered it. My reason being every time he sees it, he gets kind of excited. It's also a fact that Kenny is well over 100 years of age, like myself. I have the photo to prove it.





I also seem to vaguely remember crazy stories as a boy about local sightings of a black-haired creature with bright yellow eyes romping around near the creeks and woods of Beaverton.

As near as I can tell, Kenny is part animal and part human. You all remember Sesame Street? Well he kinda looks like one of the Muppits come to life. Only bigger and stronger. He does a lot of things and animal would do. Like thrive in nature. Or get along well with other animals. But he also shows a good amount of human behavior as well. Like keeping a garden. Wearing shorts. One thing is for sure- he doesn't have a harmful bone in his body. He loves anyone and everyone and he only goes about in this world to set things right.

Captain Burnside (the leader of the RCC) and myself have unofficially recruited Kenny as an RCC member. Now I say "unofficially" because we're not entirely sure he agreed to join us. Meaning the fella doesn't speak. Nor does he often bother to communicate much in any way. He just kinda goes about his business, setting things right. That's not to say he's a mute. Believe me, I've heard him scream and wail like a lunatic many times. Even heard him laugh once or twice. But he doesn't care much to learn a language, so communicating with him is damn near impossible. He does, however, seem to understand everything that is said to him.

Adding to his mystery is his magic. He's got this power he uses that nobody can explain. It's this... beautiful light show of colors and sparks, stars and whistles - and a rainbow "prism beam" that shoots right out of his chest. The most spectacular thing you'll ever see! Nobody knows how he does it or where it comes from- all we know is that it works every single time. He'll use it to protect himself or others around him. Or he'll use it to heal something or somebody (which I've also seen).

When he uses it for defense, it simply renders his attacker useless. End of story. They either stay in a trance until the authorities come and get them, or they walk off peacefully on their own accord, never looking back or saying a word. When he's on yourside, it's like having a victory in the bag before the battle even breaks out. It's quite an amazing thing. Only trouble is, we can't count on him showing up every time. Otherwise we'd be using Kenny in all of our battles to help keep Portland a peaceful place. Don't get me wrong- he's been there for us many, many times - he'll usually just show up out of nowhere! And sometimes he doesn't. But I suppose the fella's got other things to tend to. I don't know.

So that about sums up the basics. Like I said before, not much is known about him. I'll do my best to keep you all updated here when I can. Anything Kenny related - I'll let you know.

If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask here. I'm a reserve member of the RCC these days, so I'm sort of retired. Got nothing better to do than sit around and try to learn this computer. I'm also gonna start to getting an RCC page going here pretty quick.

And if you ever see Kenny around town, give him a hug - he loves hugging people!

Till next time! -BB

P.S. I also added a bunch more pictures of Kenny in the pictures section. Check them out to see him in action and to get a better idea of who he is.

On the bright and sunny afternoon of June 6th, 2005, Kenny embarked on a mysterious journey that until this day, nobody knows (almost) anything about.
Where did he go?
Why?

We do know his method of travel was the personal Electro-copter The Hawthorne Bomber built.

One day at headquarters, I saw him eyeballing the gadget and studying the switches and buttons in the gear room.
About a week later, I walked in on him trying it on and taking some more mental notes.
"Where you goin, Ken?" I asked him, sipping my coffee.
No reply, as usual.
"Well you better ask the Bomber before you take off on his machine." I told him. He took the equipment off his back, gave it one last look and headed out the door.
I know he understands machinery and how contraptions like these work. He's a really smart guy. I bet he was calculating distances and power availability. Or trouble-shooting any potential mechanical problems he may encounter if he were to take it out for a spin.
That night I was watching a movie with my nephews and I told them I suspected Kenny was planning on taking off somewhere.
Secretly, I was a little worried he might not ever come back.

The next morning, my nephews told their friends what I told them about Kenny. And they told their friends. And they told their friends.
And word spread like wild fire.

That afternoon the RCC was called over to Kenny's Gardens (a fan-proclaimed location where they believe Kenny resides) in Washington Park to check up on an unusually large gathering of people.
The crowd was peaceful. In fact you might even say they were quite jovial.
As soon as we arrived, they cheered and roared (I would guess there were around 5,000 folks present) and immediately began a chant that went something like this "KEN-NY!, KEN-NY!".
There were home-made signs, balloons, decorations, concession stands (with copious amounts of Kenny merchandise, of course), news teams, and a marching band.
We all looked at each other and shrugged.
"Good luck Kenny?" Captain Burnside said as he read a sign, turning his head towards the Hawthorne Bomber with a clueless look on his face.
I had an idea.
And here came Kenny. Right out of the woods, equipped only with the Bomber's copter on his back and an old canteen. The people went nuts and immediately swarmed him. I guess it was good that we showed up because we ended up forming a baracade around him as he proudly walked through the hoards of people, peering up towards the sky.
"Where'd he get that?" The Bomber asked no one in particular.
"Hey, you bring that back in one piece, Ken!" he said to Kenny as he walked past us.

Kenny stopped, turned around, and looked down to click his belt buckle together.
"Where the heck's he going, Bill?" the Gresham kid asked me. I could barely hear what he said on account of all the people screaming in my ear.
"I have no idea, son".
Kenny turned a knob and flipped three switches. The copter's blades swiftly began their revolutions, quickly gaining speed. A pleasant, yet profound whirring noise could barely be heard amongst the cheers.
Looking up, he gripped the copter's handlebars, and gave me a toothy smile.

With a gentle squeeze of the throttle, up he went.
The crowd's cheers reached their peak forcing me to cover my ears.
He rose up to about 150 feet, and after hovering around directly above us for about 10 seconds, he ventured east.
We didnt bother to follow him. His business was his business and we had a busy day.

The marching band began its rendition of "We Are The Champions" and the crowd noise downsized from a roaring, collective farewell cheer to a energized, contemplative buzz (with the exception of a few singing along with the band).
The party continued on throughout the day.




Thats the effect this silly creature has on his city. He's done a lot of great things for us. He's saved a lot of people. He's made a lot of children laugh and smile. And they all wanted to return the favor anyway they could.
Im sure it crossed a lot of their minds that he wasnt coming back.

In the duration of his absence, a lot had happened.
We won a few battles. And we lost a few.
The Mad Brain unveiled his latest monster "Ken Turbo", a lackluster robotic "Kenny clone" that August. It proceeded to nab a few dollars from some banks and scared some people. Mad Brain had hopes of duping the public into thinking that not only was Kenny back, but that he had turned "evil" at some point during his travels.
I get the sense that the public wasnt fooled whatsoever, the way that clone looked.
That October, we met up with Ken Turbo while he was trying to knock over a jewelry store in downtown. I sent him back to his lair with an empty sack and a busted face.
More on Ken Turbo (or "Mashrik the Miserable", as I like to call him) later.

On the morning of January 23rd, 2006, I walked into the gear room to grab a socket wrench. Sitting there right where it belongs, as if it had never been removed, was the Bomber's Electro-coptor. Aside from a few minor scuffs and scratches, it looked to be in great shape.
My heart felt a little shudder.
Knowing he was back brought a great feeling back into my old bones.
We had been noticibly short-handed for the last 7 months and we were all pretty tired at that point.
I bet if he had the know-how, Kenny would have left a simple little note taped to the coptor that read something like "Thanks, Bomber."
I smiled, grabbed my wrench, turned off the light and headed to the garage.

That evening, we got a call to corral some unruly fashion bots over in the Pearl District. While en route about three blocks away, we heard Kenny's familiar prism-beam going off and saw the brilliant color flashes lighting-up the cold, dark sky.
As we rounded the corner, there he was zapping his last of the fashion bots.
I noticed something was different about him. Before I could put it together-
"Wow, nice shorts, Ken!" The Gresham Kid shouted. "Where'd you get those?"
I smiled and went over and gave him a big hug. I looked him over, gave him a superhero-calibur slap on his shoulder and said with a huge grin
"Good to have you back, big fella!"

-BB