On August 16, 2025, two highly anticipated community events—Seattle’s Sunset Supper at Pike Place Market and Colorado Springs’ Lights Fest—were both abruptly called off, leaving ticket holders frustrated, out of pocket, and searching for answers. While the reasons for cancellation varied, a common thread ran through both stories: the unpredictable hand of nature and the logistical headaches that follow in its wake.
Let’s start in Seattle. The Sunset Supper, organized annually by the Pike Place Market Foundation, is a marquee event for foodies and philanthropists alike. For $225 a ticket, guests are promised a night of bites and drinks from roughly 100 local restaurants, breweries, wineries, and distilleries—all set against the backdrop of the iconic market. This year, however, the event was washed away before it could even begin. Organizers cited forecasted strong winds and heavy rain as the culprits, saying in a Facebook post, “In Seattle, we are used to rain. But an event like Sunset Supper isn’t built for pouring down rain with high winds. It’s just not safe.”
What stung for many wasn’t just the lost evening but the lost money. Tickets, as it turns out, are considered charitable donations to the Pike Place Market Foundation and are explicitly non-refundable if the event is canceled due to weather. That caveat was in the fine print, but for attendees like Robin Norris, who flew in from Florida with a group of twelve from all over the country, it hardly softened the blow. “I convinced all my friends to come and said, ‘This is really a great event,’” Norris told local media. “In the middle of our flight, we got the cancellation notice.” By her estimate, each couple in the group lost around $1,000 when factoring in flights and hotels. “It is Seattle. Rain happens. Thought maybe there might be some opportunity for moving the venue or something.”
Norris wasn’t alone in her disappointment. Online forums and social media lit up with complaints from other ticket holders, many of whom echoed the sentiment that the foundation should offer more than just a polite apology. “They should do something,” said Alexis Pontikis, who spent about $700 for two tickets. “I mean, this is terrible.”
The foundation, for its part, pointed to the logistical and regulatory hurdles that made any alternative impossible. In a statement, the organization explained, “It’s also not possible to move the whole event indoors or under cover with health permits, space limits and how the Market operates. As noted at the time of purchase, tickets are considered a charitable donation to the Pike Place Market Foundation, which means they directly support vital programs like our food bank, senior center and healthcare services.”
Board president Kirsten Anderson added that rescheduling wasn’t as simple as it might seem. “While it sounds simple to reschedule, it just isn’t,” Anderson said. “This event takes months of planning and coordination with vendors, and it has complex permitting requirements, logistical constraints and impacts to the broader Market community when we close the MarketFront.”
As a small consolation, all ticket holders were automatically entered into the event’s Golden Raffle, where prizes include an instant wine cellar, a wine weekend in Walla Walla, and even flights—some valued up to $5,000. Still, for many, the chance at a prize felt like cold comfort compared to the experience they’d hoped for and the money lost.
Meanwhile, in Colorado Springs, the saga of the Lights Fest has become a lesson in patience—and, for some, in frustration. The event, promoted as a family-friendly sky lantern festival, has now been postponed six times since its original date of August 16, 2024. Each delay has come with its own explanation: from fire bans and weather concerns to the likelihood of snow and, most recently, fire restrictions and heavy rain.
The most recent postponement, again on August 16, 2025, cited fire concerns. As of Friday, no new date had been announced, and the silence from organizers was deafening. According to KKTV, attempts to reach event organizer Colin Mackay were unsuccessful—his voicemail was full, and calls to the event’s listed complaint handler went unanswered.
It’s not the first time Lights Fest has left attendees in the lurch. The Utah-based promoter, Viive Events, currently holds an “F” rating from the Better Business Bureau, thanks to a slew of refund and cancellation complaints. The BBB’s rating reflects a pattern of unresolved grievances, with customers left wondering if they’ll ever see their money—or the lanterns—again.
Ticket holders have been encouraged to share their experiences with local media, and some have turned to social platforms to vent their frustrations and warn others. The repeated delays, lack of communication, and absence of refunds have eroded trust, with many questioning whether the event will ever take place—or if it’s simply a lost cause.
The stories from Seattle and Colorado Springs, while unique in their details, highlight a broader issue facing live events in an era of increasingly unpredictable weather and heightened regulatory scrutiny. Outdoor gatherings, especially those involving food, alcohol, or open flames, are subject to a complex web of health, safety, and permitting requirements. When the weather turns foul or fire danger spikes, organizers are often left with few good options.
For nonprofits like the Pike Place Market Foundation, the stakes are even higher. The Sunset Supper is more than just a party; it’s a major fundraiser supporting essential services for the community. The foundation’s decision to keep ticket revenue as a donation, while frustrating to some, is consistent with the terms agreed upon at purchase. Yet, as Robin Norris and others pointed out, the lack of flexibility or alternative arrangements leaves a sour taste, especially for those who traveled from afar.
Commercial promoters like Viive Events face a different kind of scrutiny. With a track record of postponements and a failing grade from the BBB, the Lights Fest’s credibility is on the line. The lack of transparency and communication only adds to the perception that ticket holders are being strung along.
In both cases, the lesson is clear: When it comes to outdoor events, even the best-laid plans can be undone by forces beyond anyone’s control. For organizers, clear communication and contingency planning are essential. For attendees, a careful reading of the fine print—and a willingness to roll with the punches—may be the price of admission.
As communities across the country continue to seek connection and celebration, the balance between safety, logistics, and customer satisfaction will remain a delicate one. For now, the skies over Seattle and Colorado Springs are quiet, but the conversations about fairness, responsibility, and the future of public gatherings are just getting started.
