Published in edited form in The Foothills Sun-Gazette May 15, 2013
"Well, I restored my womanhood this morning," my mom said during our Mother's Day phone call. "I finally put out a bowl of milk for the mama cat. She was staring at my patio door...."
She went on with her story, which actually started last fall when the kittens from last year's litter threatened to overtake Mom's house. Her only means of dealing with the situation was to stop feeding them. The cat and kittens disappeared, but this spring the mama cat came back to support herself while feeding this year's batch. I could feel Mom's relief: when push comes to shove, she'd share the last of her milk rather than see that other mother suffer.
Last year I was shocked that she could take away the food, but I was too far away to help find another solution. I've compromised my household year after year by feeding, fixing and finding homes for kittens brought to my porch by those mothers I've fed, and sometimes I've made decisions like Mom's, closing my heart-eyes to their lost well-being that I allowed to happen.
But telling those stories feels as embarrassing as getting pregnant unwed and giving the child up for adoption, a self-demotion of our womanhood defined by maternity. And why? Most men would not feel their identity threatened by an action taken or not taken on this small scale. I say "most," because I know a man who decided to feed a kitten though he was unemployed. Watching him struggle with the choice induced me to write a poem about it. But this kind of embarrassment belongs, for the most part, to the realm of womanhood. At least, that's where it's been assigned.
It was wonderful working at the market this past weekend. Friday was Mother's Day in Mexico, so our customers started wishing us cashiers (who are almost entirely women,) "Feliz Dia de las Madres" early. The well-wishing worked its magic on us, and we began wishing all the mothers who came through our checkstands the same. I wished happiness on many of the men, too, which embarrassed some that I might have my Spanish upside down. But the day is for remembering our mothers, and everyone who ever walked had one, so why not? We've all been blessed with life thanks to those women who carried our embryos to term, some at great risk to their lives. It's an important recognition.
"Quantos ninos tiene?" women asked me. "Do you have children?" some men queried cautiously. "Nada," I answered incorrectly to the women, "no" to the men. I have various answers for the raised eyebrows silently asking "why," but the truth is my fears of having children and not being able to support them never were outweighed by the desire. And there, my friends, you have it.
"You have to work on Mother's Day?" some customers sympathized. "You have to eat," I responded gently, pointing to their groceries, "and so do I," smiling. "And if I took the day off, some other mother would have to take my shift, and that wouldn't be fair...." They nodded, comprehending, as they pushed their carts out the door.
The best part of these short conversations was the recognition of our womanhood and the contributions we make with our small-scale decisions. It was a blessing to be working at RN Market this past weekend. Thank you, customers. And here is the poem I wrote for Ross, who tends to buy his box of macaroni and cheese and can of cat foot about two minutes before closing.
When Times Are Hard -- for Ross
This is how it's done
when times are hard:
when the speedometer goes
you don't get it fixed, but
shift to another mechanism
for gauging speed: other vehicles
and your own judgment how you'd dodge
sudden obstructions.
When the computer crashes
you borrow the one at the library,
shifting your schedule to make
use of your resources
away from home.
And when a starving kitten
arrives at your door, you
feed it, knowing just as well
it could be you.
tmw 6/3/2011
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Trudy Wischemann is a journeyman cashier who writes. You can send her your stories of restored womanhood to P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Paving Paradise
Published in edited form in The Foothills Sun-Gazette, May 8, 2013
The Lindsay City Council voted to approve two staff proposals at the last meeting which will "protect our investment" in streets. Those of you who think our streets need fixing will want to know about this.
First, $300,000 was moved from the 5-year Capital Improvement Plan to the last month of this fiscal year for specific street improvements. "That money's been collected for streets, so it's appropriate to use them this way," argued finance director Tamara Lakin.
Then the Council was asked to approve going out to bid for those specific streets. "There's some cracking beginning in these areas, and the rubberized resurfacing will simply protect our investment," city services director Mike Camarena offered, answering the few questions. Besides, the contractor who does this work is going to be in Porterville this month, so it's an incredible opportunity to get this work done in a timely manner....
Nobody asked Camarena how he knew the contractor was near or why we should put out to bid a project if we already know who we're going to use. Nobody asked Camarena for a copy of the plan to fix the residential streets or what projects were being set aside to spend this $300,000 on streets that have been repaved in recent years. Unfortunately Councilwoman Sanchez was absent, or she might have, since she asked to have the street repair plan discussed three months ago to no avail.
Look at the streets: Hermosa, Mirage, Elmwood, Sweet Brier. The segments of Hermosa proposed to be resurfaced, from Highway 65 to Sweet Brier, then Sweet Brier from Hermosa to Honolulu, are the roads to the Friday Night Market. They've been repaved in recent memory. If they're wearing out (and I say "if,") is that perhaps a cost of the Market the City touts only as an economic benefit?
Look at Elmwood from Hermosa to Tulare Road, i.e., from the notorious Roundabout to the new Willie's Market perched kittycorner from the City Golf Course, Memorial Building (with its newly repaved parking lot,) and the renovated City Park. As our streets go, it's not a bad street, but it sure would look prettier to all these visiting dignitaries (and government loan officials) we need to show off the Wellness Center/Park complex for. And Mirage from Lindmore north to Valencia? There's a few cracks along the center line, but no bumps and certainly no car-eating potholes like I must swerve around to get home in my half-way decent part of town.
True, resurfacing these four street segments was on the list of projects in the 2011-2012 city budget. But so were the repaving of two residential streets - Valencia and Frazier - as well as the upgrading of Wells 11 and 15, none of which have begun. The Council was asked to approve this resurfacing project without any discussion of the impacts of that decision on the other uncompleted projects.
In fact, all four street segments that were approved for resurfacing at the last meeting are designated as "completed" on the City's map of streets (available on the website.) This map was created by city planner/ map maker/ GIS specialist Bill Zigler in October 2012 (right before the first election in 8 years) as proof that the city council members then in power had been doing their jobs. The challengers to those seats, two of whom won, had no trouble finding issues that resonated with the residents: water and streets. Bill's map was not convincing to the voters because most of us live on streets that haven't seen more than a few shovelfuls of asphalt dumped into those car-eating potholes in decades. But he tried.
The investments the city staff are protecting are these oversized, inappropriate Redevelopment projects - the Downtown Project, McDermont Field House and Wellness Center started by Scot Townsend's delusions of grandeur - while they let the rest of the town rot. "Look at the Paradise we've made for you!" they keep saying, ignoring our cries for decent water and streets. Maybe we're not crying hard enough. Or maybe we need another approach.
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Trudy Wischemann is a writer, researcher and singer with enough planning background to be outraged. You can send your ideas about city planning to P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below.
The Lindsay City Council voted to approve two staff proposals at the last meeting which will "protect our investment" in streets. Those of you who think our streets need fixing will want to know about this.
First, $300,000 was moved from the 5-year Capital Improvement Plan to the last month of this fiscal year for specific street improvements. "That money's been collected for streets, so it's appropriate to use them this way," argued finance director Tamara Lakin.
Then the Council was asked to approve going out to bid for those specific streets. "There's some cracking beginning in these areas, and the rubberized resurfacing will simply protect our investment," city services director Mike Camarena offered, answering the few questions. Besides, the contractor who does this work is going to be in Porterville this month, so it's an incredible opportunity to get this work done in a timely manner....
Nobody asked Camarena how he knew the contractor was near or why we should put out to bid a project if we already know who we're going to use. Nobody asked Camarena for a copy of the plan to fix the residential streets or what projects were being set aside to spend this $300,000 on streets that have been repaved in recent years. Unfortunately Councilwoman Sanchez was absent, or she might have, since she asked to have the street repair plan discussed three months ago to no avail.
Look at the streets: Hermosa, Mirage, Elmwood, Sweet Brier. The segments of Hermosa proposed to be resurfaced, from Highway 65 to Sweet Brier, then Sweet Brier from Hermosa to Honolulu, are the roads to the Friday Night Market. They've been repaved in recent memory. If they're wearing out (and I say "if,") is that perhaps a cost of the Market the City touts only as an economic benefit?
Look at Elmwood from Hermosa to Tulare Road, i.e., from the notorious Roundabout to the new Willie's Market perched kittycorner from the City Golf Course, Memorial Building (with its newly repaved parking lot,) and the renovated City Park. As our streets go, it's not a bad street, but it sure would look prettier to all these visiting dignitaries (and government loan officials) we need to show off the Wellness Center/Park complex for. And Mirage from Lindmore north to Valencia? There's a few cracks along the center line, but no bumps and certainly no car-eating potholes like I must swerve around to get home in my half-way decent part of town.
True, resurfacing these four street segments was on the list of projects in the 2011-2012 city budget. But so were the repaving of two residential streets - Valencia and Frazier - as well as the upgrading of Wells 11 and 15, none of which have begun. The Council was asked to approve this resurfacing project without any discussion of the impacts of that decision on the other uncompleted projects.
In fact, all four street segments that were approved for resurfacing at the last meeting are designated as "completed" on the City's map of streets (available on the website.) This map was created by city planner/ map maker/ GIS specialist Bill Zigler in October 2012 (right before the first election in 8 years) as proof that the city council members then in power had been doing their jobs. The challengers to those seats, two of whom won, had no trouble finding issues that resonated with the residents: water and streets. Bill's map was not convincing to the voters because most of us live on streets that haven't seen more than a few shovelfuls of asphalt dumped into those car-eating potholes in decades. But he tried.
The investments the city staff are protecting are these oversized, inappropriate Redevelopment projects - the Downtown Project, McDermont Field House and Wellness Center started by Scot Townsend's delusions of grandeur - while they let the rest of the town rot. "Look at the Paradise we've made for you!" they keep saying, ignoring our cries for decent water and streets. Maybe we're not crying hard enough. Or maybe we need another approach.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trudy Wischemann is a writer, researcher and singer with enough planning background to be outraged. You can send your ideas about city planning to P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
"Just Deportees"
Published in edited form in The Foothills-Sun Gazette, May 1, 2013
"Deportation has become a near-taboo word," opened Victor Davis Hanson in his column on immigration reform in Sunday's Fresno Bee, ending with the suggestion that we might have to get over it. I'm not writing to dispute him, but to provide background on where that word got some of its negative meaning.
It came from a songwriter, Woody Guthrie, and many folk singers since then carrying his song "Plane Wreck Over Los Gatos" to the public's ear. His song, which has come to be known as "Deportees," was written after he read a news article describing the deaths of 28 unnamed farmworkers being deported to Mexico in early 1948. The song wasn't just about their deaths, but also about their impossibly difficult lives as well. And without pointing a finger, it showed some impacts of agribusiness that scholars like Paul Taylor and Ernesto Galarza were documenting and trying to draw attention to with their lives.
Occurring in the final years of the Bracero Program, which was a Federally regulated labor importation program operated in conjunction with the Mexican government, the plane wreck killed farm laborers who had entered the country illegally, competing with the Braceros for jobs and keeping wages lower than they would have been. In his book about the Bracero Program, Merchants of Labor (1964,) Ernesto Galarza called the illegal workers "Wetbacks," and estimated that in 1948 there were 40,000 in California. The story of what pulled the "Wetbacks" over the border time and again, then pushed them back, is told compassionately and with clear sight on his pages.
But Woody told it in 6 verses and one beautiful chorus, and I loved the song the first time I heard it, now decades ago. It opens with "The crops are all in and the peaches are rottening; the oranges are piled in their creosote dumps. You're flying them back to the Mexican border, to pay all their money to wade back again." The harvests are over; now send 'em home.
The second verse: "My father's own father, he waded that river. They took all the money he made in his life. My brothers and sisters come work in the fruit trees. They rode that truck till they took down and died." It's been going on for generations, it doesn't change.
The fifth: "The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon. Like a fireball of lightning, it shook all our hills. And though all our best friends were scattered like dry leaves, the radio said they were just deportees." Nobody anyone in the mainstream would care about except us, the invisible ones.
And the beautiful chorus: "Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita. A Dios, mis amigos, Jesus y Maria. You won't have your names when you ride the big airplane. All they will call you will be deportees." Their names were not recorded before take-off; no official knew who died.
I've always known the song was written about a real event, a real social issue, and real people. What I didn't know until a few weeks ago, all thanks to a Valley poet named Tim Z. Hernandez, is that these unnamed farmworkers were buried in a mass grave in 28 gray caskets at Holy Cross Cemetery in Fresno. Hundreds of people attended the funeral, as well as officials from the Mexican Consulate and the U.S. Immigration Service. And I didn't know that Tim, for the last two years, has been working to find their names and restore them to their bodies' headstone, which currently reads "28 Mexican Nationals who died in a plane crash are buried here."
With the help of many people, Tim is raising funds for a new headstone, which will be dedicated Sept. 2, 2013, Labor Day. With Lance Canales and The Flood, he has recorded an arrangement of "Deportee" in which all 28 names are read, and they have performed it most recently at a Fresno fundraiser. He's working on a book about the research process discovering their names, tentatively titled "All They Will Call You..." For a beautiful glimpse of these efforts, visit timzhernandez.com online.
They weren't just deportees: they were people with names and families and stories like the rest of us. If you want to add your name to the list of contributors for the Deportee Memorial Headstone, send a small check to Tim Z. Hernandez, 302 Casper Dr., Lafayette, CO 80026 or to St. Peter's Cemetery, 264 Blythe Ave., Fresno, CA 93706. Make the check out to St. Peter's Cemetery and mark both the check and the envelope ATTN: Holy Cross Memorial.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trudy Wischemann is a writer and singer who's still often astounded at the power of words put to song. You can send her your thoughts on this column % P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below.
"Deportation has become a near-taboo word," opened Victor Davis Hanson in his column on immigration reform in Sunday's Fresno Bee, ending with the suggestion that we might have to get over it. I'm not writing to dispute him, but to provide background on where that word got some of its negative meaning.
It came from a songwriter, Woody Guthrie, and many folk singers since then carrying his song "Plane Wreck Over Los Gatos" to the public's ear. His song, which has come to be known as "Deportees," was written after he read a news article describing the deaths of 28 unnamed farmworkers being deported to Mexico in early 1948. The song wasn't just about their deaths, but also about their impossibly difficult lives as well. And without pointing a finger, it showed some impacts of agribusiness that scholars like Paul Taylor and Ernesto Galarza were documenting and trying to draw attention to with their lives.
Occurring in the final years of the Bracero Program, which was a Federally regulated labor importation program operated in conjunction with the Mexican government, the plane wreck killed farm laborers who had entered the country illegally, competing with the Braceros for jobs and keeping wages lower than they would have been. In his book about the Bracero Program, Merchants of Labor (1964,) Ernesto Galarza called the illegal workers "Wetbacks," and estimated that in 1948 there were 40,000 in California. The story of what pulled the "Wetbacks" over the border time and again, then pushed them back, is told compassionately and with clear sight on his pages.
But Woody told it in 6 verses and one beautiful chorus, and I loved the song the first time I heard it, now decades ago. It opens with "The crops are all in and the peaches are rottening; the oranges are piled in their creosote dumps. You're flying them back to the Mexican border, to pay all their money to wade back again." The harvests are over; now send 'em home.
The second verse: "My father's own father, he waded that river. They took all the money he made in his life. My brothers and sisters come work in the fruit trees. They rode that truck till they took down and died." It's been going on for generations, it doesn't change.
The fifth: "The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon. Like a fireball of lightning, it shook all our hills. And though all our best friends were scattered like dry leaves, the radio said they were just deportees." Nobody anyone in the mainstream would care about except us, the invisible ones.
And the beautiful chorus: "Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita. A Dios, mis amigos, Jesus y Maria. You won't have your names when you ride the big airplane. All they will call you will be deportees." Their names were not recorded before take-off; no official knew who died.
I've always known the song was written about a real event, a real social issue, and real people. What I didn't know until a few weeks ago, all thanks to a Valley poet named Tim Z. Hernandez, is that these unnamed farmworkers were buried in a mass grave in 28 gray caskets at Holy Cross Cemetery in Fresno. Hundreds of people attended the funeral, as well as officials from the Mexican Consulate and the U.S. Immigration Service. And I didn't know that Tim, for the last two years, has been working to find their names and restore them to their bodies' headstone, which currently reads "28 Mexican Nationals who died in a plane crash are buried here."
With the help of many people, Tim is raising funds for a new headstone, which will be dedicated Sept. 2, 2013, Labor Day. With Lance Canales and The Flood, he has recorded an arrangement of "Deportee" in which all 28 names are read, and they have performed it most recently at a Fresno fundraiser. He's working on a book about the research process discovering their names, tentatively titled "All They Will Call You..." For a beautiful glimpse of these efforts, visit timzhernandez.com online.
They weren't just deportees: they were people with names and families and stories like the rest of us. If you want to add your name to the list of contributors for the Deportee Memorial Headstone, send a small check to Tim Z. Hernandez, 302 Casper Dr., Lafayette, CO 80026 or to St. Peter's Cemetery, 264 Blythe Ave., Fresno, CA 93706. Make the check out to St. Peter's Cemetery and mark both the check and the envelope ATTN: Holy Cross Memorial.
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Trudy Wischemann is a writer and singer who's still often astounded at the power of words put to song. You can send her your thoughts on this column % P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Jefferson's Dream
Published in edited form in the Foothills Sun-Gazette, April 24, 2013
It's been a rocky two weeks. After shenanigans pulled at the April 9th Lindsay City Council meeting regarding Dollar General's "withdrawal," while we supposedly celebrated our agricultural heritage in the Orange Blossom Festival and the fragrance of orange blossoms wafted through town, I was tracking what actually happened. All we really know is that the developer cancelled escrow on the Citrus Exchange site and the building is not now scheduled for demolition.
When people heard the building had been saved, ideas about its future flew in like a flock of crows. Everything from an orange museum to a family crisis center has been proposed. When I didn't automatically applaud, people asked "Well, what do YOU think it should be?" Waiting for an answer to arrive, I tried words like "community resource center" and "non-profit meeting place." Then it came: what I want to create there is The Center for the Dream that Dreamed Jefferson.
That's not a name that would really light up the skies. The idea is one that came in a sentence 20 years ago as I prepared a presentation for the 1993 California Studies conference describing the work of Paul Taylor, a professor of economics at UC Berkeley whom one scholar had described as "the last Jeffersonian." Jefferson was an agrarian, and luckily scholars since 1993 have discovered that agrarians still exist and are working in the widening cracks of our decrepit economy. Twenty years ago I was maintaining that Paul wasn't the last, and no one ever would be because what moved him, like what moved Thomas Jefferson, was bigger than any one person. What I was maintaining was that both men were responding to the drum beat of a different Drummer, who is not going to stop drumming.
I described the dream as the dream of human equality that formed this country, equality made possible by democracy. What Taylor and Jefferson both recognized was that democracy is maintainable only so long as the country's resources are evenly distributed. Both men understood that land is the primary resource, and both worked for widespread land ownership for the greatest number of people because they both saw it was in the country's interest as well as the people's.
Jefferson's dream was partial: he didn't see that, in scoring the Louisiana Purchase for Americans to settle, they would be displacing Native Americans from their land. Taylor's dream was partial: he didn't see that developing irrigation supplies for small farmers would drown out valleys, destroy salmon runs and drive off antelope from desert lands that never should have been farmed in the first place. But the dream that dreamed Taylor and Jefferson wasn't partial: it was inclusive, universal. They were cooperating, doing their part as best they could, and they both left enormous legacies we don't yet know how to appreciate.
My part was to look again at the way landownership patterns influence the development of small towns, updating a research project conducted by one of Taylor's students, Walter Goldschmidt, who later became professor of anthropology at UCLA. What I found was that the pattern holds: towns that grow amidst a larger number of smaller-scale farms are healthier economically, socially, culturally and politically than towns that grow amidst larger-scale farms operated by a few. It's the night-and-day difference between the east and west sides of our Valley that we all observe but fail to interpret because the economic power of the large landholders - "the big boys," as Paul called them - has put blindfolds on our thinking, gag orders on our mouths.
What I want to create in the old Exchange building, that historic site of cooperative effort which maintained a viable place in the market for small citrus growers for fifty years and thus enriched this town beyond its own awareness, is a place where we can take the blindfolds off and look at what matters. I want to create a place where the gag orders can be left at the door and we can begin to speak about solutions. In that elegant, artfully-crafted building of light and sound I want to create a place where you can still hear that drum beat - so more of us can begin to do our part.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trudy Wischemann is a dreamer who has often been accused of being merely nostalgic. You can send her your dreams of restoring Lindsay or any small town % P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a message below!
It's been a rocky two weeks. After shenanigans pulled at the April 9th Lindsay City Council meeting regarding Dollar General's "withdrawal," while we supposedly celebrated our agricultural heritage in the Orange Blossom Festival and the fragrance of orange blossoms wafted through town, I was tracking what actually happened. All we really know is that the developer cancelled escrow on the Citrus Exchange site and the building is not now scheduled for demolition.
When people heard the building had been saved, ideas about its future flew in like a flock of crows. Everything from an orange museum to a family crisis center has been proposed. When I didn't automatically applaud, people asked "Well, what do YOU think it should be?" Waiting for an answer to arrive, I tried words like "community resource center" and "non-profit meeting place." Then it came: what I want to create there is The Center for the Dream that Dreamed Jefferson.
That's not a name that would really light up the skies. The idea is one that came in a sentence 20 years ago as I prepared a presentation for the 1993 California Studies conference describing the work of Paul Taylor, a professor of economics at UC Berkeley whom one scholar had described as "the last Jeffersonian." Jefferson was an agrarian, and luckily scholars since 1993 have discovered that agrarians still exist and are working in the widening cracks of our decrepit economy. Twenty years ago I was maintaining that Paul wasn't the last, and no one ever would be because what moved him, like what moved Thomas Jefferson, was bigger than any one person. What I was maintaining was that both men were responding to the drum beat of a different Drummer, who is not going to stop drumming.
I described the dream as the dream of human equality that formed this country, equality made possible by democracy. What Taylor and Jefferson both recognized was that democracy is maintainable only so long as the country's resources are evenly distributed. Both men understood that land is the primary resource, and both worked for widespread land ownership for the greatest number of people because they both saw it was in the country's interest as well as the people's.
Jefferson's dream was partial: he didn't see that, in scoring the Louisiana Purchase for Americans to settle, they would be displacing Native Americans from their land. Taylor's dream was partial: he didn't see that developing irrigation supplies for small farmers would drown out valleys, destroy salmon runs and drive off antelope from desert lands that never should have been farmed in the first place. But the dream that dreamed Taylor and Jefferson wasn't partial: it was inclusive, universal. They were cooperating, doing their part as best they could, and they both left enormous legacies we don't yet know how to appreciate.
My part was to look again at the way landownership patterns influence the development of small towns, updating a research project conducted by one of Taylor's students, Walter Goldschmidt, who later became professor of anthropology at UCLA. What I found was that the pattern holds: towns that grow amidst a larger number of smaller-scale farms are healthier economically, socially, culturally and politically than towns that grow amidst larger-scale farms operated by a few. It's the night-and-day difference between the east and west sides of our Valley that we all observe but fail to interpret because the economic power of the large landholders - "the big boys," as Paul called them - has put blindfolds on our thinking, gag orders on our mouths.
What I want to create in the old Exchange building, that historic site of cooperative effort which maintained a viable place in the market for small citrus growers for fifty years and thus enriched this town beyond its own awareness, is a place where we can take the blindfolds off and look at what matters. I want to create a place where the gag orders can be left at the door and we can begin to speak about solutions. In that elegant, artfully-crafted building of light and sound I want to create a place where you can still hear that drum beat - so more of us can begin to do our part.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trudy Wischemann is a dreamer who has often been accused of being merely nostalgic. You can send her your dreams of restoring Lindsay or any small town % P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a message below!
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Begging the Question
"Why did they want to tear down that beautiful building?" a lovely woman asked me at the bank last week, one of our stalwart members of Lindsay, speaking of the Citrus Exchange building we'd just saved. I hadn't been totally sure of the answer until Tuesday night's council meeting. "They wanted a parking lot, new curbs and gutters, and a bulbout," I told her, still in disbelief.
The agenda for the council meeting was more placid than usual. Councilwoman Kimball was absent on a trip to Washington DC with TCAG, so no controversial items were considered. The withdrawal of the Dollar General proposal was tucked into the consent calendar along with the minutes of the last meeting, the request by El Quinto Sol to use Sweet Brier Plaza April 27th for their Dia del Nino event, and the mayor's proclamation opening Orange Blossom Week.
I had questioned my attorney why the council would need to approve Dollar General's withdrawal; on the surface it seemed a moot point. He thought it had something to do with limiting the time period in which that proposal could come back to the council without re-doing the environmental documents. So I let the question drop and prepared to simply witness the formality with dignity and gratitude.
Surprisingly, Danny Salinas asked to have that item removed from the consent calendar, wanting more discussion. "I'd like to get a little more insight on what happened. Bill?"
Ready, Zigler replied "The developer pulled the project because the developer was concerned about litigation. The scope of the project was such that they couldn't afford to litigate." My mind did a back-flip. If it had gone to court, it would have been the City of Lindsay trying to defend Zigler's environmental documents, not Dollar General. If we had proven their inadequacy, which we were prepared to do, it would have been the City of Lindsay who paid, because Zigler had not included any indemnification clauses in the conditions on the project. We were grateful to not have to put that burden on the taxpayers, ourselves, for a staff still out of control.
Zigler continued: "As a result of that, if the City of Lindsay wants a pedestrian-friendly bulbed intersection, the citizens will have to pay for it." Another backflip: when did we ever ask for a bulbout anywhere? "If the City wants an additional parking lot, the citizens will have to pay." The list went on. "If the City wants street improvements on North Mirage, the citizens will pay for that. If the City wants improved curbs, gutters and landscaping on Hermosa, the citizens will pay for that."
I was stunned. We have not been begging for any of those things. The only things we have been begging for are to have our streets fixed and our city government re-opened so it is responsive to its citizens, and so far our desires have been unmet.
Zigler noted that the developer was going to pay for all these things, as well as architectural features masking the metal building's true structure, then concluded "So that's the result of this project being withdrawn. I'd be happy to answer any questions."
The only question Bill Zigler will not be happy to answer is "Who says we need these projects?" It's not the citizens, so who is it?
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Trudy Wischemann is an ex-patriot planner who loves small towns for their authenticity. You can send her your ideas about who wants these projects % P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below!
The agenda for the council meeting was more placid than usual. Councilwoman Kimball was absent on a trip to Washington DC with TCAG, so no controversial items were considered. The withdrawal of the Dollar General proposal was tucked into the consent calendar along with the minutes of the last meeting, the request by El Quinto Sol to use Sweet Brier Plaza April 27th for their Dia del Nino event, and the mayor's proclamation opening Orange Blossom Week.
I had questioned my attorney why the council would need to approve Dollar General's withdrawal; on the surface it seemed a moot point. He thought it had something to do with limiting the time period in which that proposal could come back to the council without re-doing the environmental documents. So I let the question drop and prepared to simply witness the formality with dignity and gratitude.
Surprisingly, Danny Salinas asked to have that item removed from the consent calendar, wanting more discussion. "I'd like to get a little more insight on what happened. Bill?"
Ready, Zigler replied "The developer pulled the project because the developer was concerned about litigation. The scope of the project was such that they couldn't afford to litigate." My mind did a back-flip. If it had gone to court, it would have been the City of Lindsay trying to defend Zigler's environmental documents, not Dollar General. If we had proven their inadequacy, which we were prepared to do, it would have been the City of Lindsay who paid, because Zigler had not included any indemnification clauses in the conditions on the project. We were grateful to not have to put that burden on the taxpayers, ourselves, for a staff still out of control.
Zigler continued: "As a result of that, if the City of Lindsay wants a pedestrian-friendly bulbed intersection, the citizens will have to pay for it." Another backflip: when did we ever ask for a bulbout anywhere? "If the City wants an additional parking lot, the citizens will have to pay." The list went on. "If the City wants street improvements on North Mirage, the citizens will pay for that. If the City wants improved curbs, gutters and landscaping on Hermosa, the citizens will pay for that."
I was stunned. We have not been begging for any of those things. The only things we have been begging for are to have our streets fixed and our city government re-opened so it is responsive to its citizens, and so far our desires have been unmet.
Zigler noted that the developer was going to pay for all these things, as well as architectural features masking the metal building's true structure, then concluded "So that's the result of this project being withdrawn. I'd be happy to answer any questions."
The only question Bill Zigler will not be happy to answer is "Who says we need these projects?" It's not the citizens, so who is it?
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Trudy Wischemann is an ex-patriot planner who loves small towns for their authenticity. You can send her your ideas about who wants these projects % P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below!
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Dollar General's Silver Linings
Published in slightly edited form April 10, 2013 in The Foothills Sun-Gazette
The fight is over, at least momentarily: Embree Group has withdrawn its proposal to construct a Dollar General in downtown Lindsay. Now I can organize the papers on my desk and glean the lessons learned from their pages for whatever lies ahead.
And many things do. If we learned anything from this, it's the need for a planning commission. Our planning staff, which we also learned is half invisible, has had its way far too long. My immediate task is to bring that part to light so we can move ahead with plans that meet the needs of the population, not the city planner's glorification.
We learned that we need a component in our general plan that speaks for historic preservation. Exeter adopted one last year, which could serve as a model for one for Lindsay. This isn't rocket science: it's understanding the qualities that make a small town environment special and preserving them rather than bulldozing and paving them over.
Something I myself learned was the value of asking for help. My whole life I've been help-impaired: I don't know how to ask for it and don't know what to do when help arrives. But that shifted for me these last two months, and it started with Steve Slagle, one of my former mini-storage customers who cares for people's lawns and the Lindsay United Methodist Church.
Steve was standing outside the church one Sunday morning in his suit and tie when I drove by, trying to track the truck routes Dollar General's semi's might use. Robin Mattos, my attorney's dynamite research arm, had discovered that the Exchange building's architect had also designed a church in Lindsay, but not which one. So I pulled over, jumped out and asked Steve if he knew who designed that beautiful, Spanish-style church right next to city hall. He said no, but knew there were plans in the basement he might be able to find. By 9:45 Monday morning he had the answer: yes, it was Wm. W. Ache, in October 1954.* From that moment on, I knew we could demolish the city's finding of "no historical significance," and hopefully prevent the demolition of the Exchange building.
In response, the developers offered to move off the Exchange building site and develop on Elmwood where a parking lot had been planned. That was fine with me until it became clear they were going to demolish Ed's Auto (now M&J's) for their parking lot. After talking with Miguel about what would happen to his business if that occurred, I was distraught. It felt like Sophie's Choice: which child do you turn over to the Nazi's for their incinerators, your son or your daughter? So I prayed, stopped talking with people who thought it was a reasonable deal, and prayed some more. Good Friday the answer arrived, and it was "No." Neither my attorney nor I knew what the developers would do.
Gracias a Dios, they backed out. Now there's work to do creating a new life for the Exchange Building, protecting the life already in full-swing at Miguel's, and continuing the effort to make this city's staff accountable and transparent. But for one moment more, I'm celebrating the silver linings that came part-and-parcel with the Dollar General project: reconnection with members of this community who know and care about it, and the fresh and jubilant reminder of the role of faith.
*Mr. Ache had designed the Exchange building in 1933 as well as the Sierra Citrus packinghouse on Tulare Road that same year, which, with its domed roof, was very innovative at the time.
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Trudy Wischemann is a formerly faithless person who is rebuilding her ideas of community. You can send your silver lining stories to her % P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below!
The fight is over, at least momentarily: Embree Group has withdrawn its proposal to construct a Dollar General in downtown Lindsay. Now I can organize the papers on my desk and glean the lessons learned from their pages for whatever lies ahead.
And many things do. If we learned anything from this, it's the need for a planning commission. Our planning staff, which we also learned is half invisible, has had its way far too long. My immediate task is to bring that part to light so we can move ahead with plans that meet the needs of the population, not the city planner's glorification.
We learned that we need a component in our general plan that speaks for historic preservation. Exeter adopted one last year, which could serve as a model for one for Lindsay. This isn't rocket science: it's understanding the qualities that make a small town environment special and preserving them rather than bulldozing and paving them over.
Something I myself learned was the value of asking for help. My whole life I've been help-impaired: I don't know how to ask for it and don't know what to do when help arrives. But that shifted for me these last two months, and it started with Steve Slagle, one of my former mini-storage customers who cares for people's lawns and the Lindsay United Methodist Church.
Steve was standing outside the church one Sunday morning in his suit and tie when I drove by, trying to track the truck routes Dollar General's semi's might use. Robin Mattos, my attorney's dynamite research arm, had discovered that the Exchange building's architect had also designed a church in Lindsay, but not which one. So I pulled over, jumped out and asked Steve if he knew who designed that beautiful, Spanish-style church right next to city hall. He said no, but knew there were plans in the basement he might be able to find. By 9:45 Monday morning he had the answer: yes, it was Wm. W. Ache, in October 1954.* From that moment on, I knew we could demolish the city's finding of "no historical significance," and hopefully prevent the demolition of the Exchange building.
In response, the developers offered to move off the Exchange building site and develop on Elmwood where a parking lot had been planned. That was fine with me until it became clear they were going to demolish Ed's Auto (now M&J's) for their parking lot. After talking with Miguel about what would happen to his business if that occurred, I was distraught. It felt like Sophie's Choice: which child do you turn over to the Nazi's for their incinerators, your son or your daughter? So I prayed, stopped talking with people who thought it was a reasonable deal, and prayed some more. Good Friday the answer arrived, and it was "No." Neither my attorney nor I knew what the developers would do.
Gracias a Dios, they backed out. Now there's work to do creating a new life for the Exchange Building, protecting the life already in full-swing at Miguel's, and continuing the effort to make this city's staff accountable and transparent. But for one moment more, I'm celebrating the silver linings that came part-and-parcel with the Dollar General project: reconnection with members of this community who know and care about it, and the fresh and jubilant reminder of the role of faith.
*Mr. Ache had designed the Exchange building in 1933 as well as the Sierra Citrus packinghouse on Tulare Road that same year, which, with its domed roof, was very innovative at the time.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trudy Wischemann is a formerly faithless person who is rebuilding her ideas of community. You can send your silver lining stories to her % P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below!
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Place Value
"What's the APN number on that property?" my attorney friend asked during a discussion of the Dollar General proposal.
I hesitated as a small explosion occurred inside my brain, left side, a little toward the front. I recognized the signs, like an epileptic who knows a seizure is about to occur, and kept my mouth shut a few moments longer before answering "I'm not sure."
Though I've had these episodes regularly during my life, it wasn't till that moment I realized how much difficulty I have talking about places as property. My friend deals with properties, planners and developers throughout the Central Valley. It's part of his family history as well as central to his career. He meant no offense.
And I don't mean to be quixotic, always tilting at windmills. I recognize the value of property, how having some (or not) totally shapes our lives in this country, both economically and socially, and that it's one of the ways we make home. My little explosions, however, are triggered by the way we fail to recognize the place value of property, which transcends parcel lines and ownership, and derives from community uses over time.
For instance, some of the opposition I heard to the proposed demolition of the Citrus Exchange building was about the loss of that building as a place that represents a moment of community well-being. My friend Sal Natoli, who graduated from LHS in 1966 and hasn't lived here since, said "Not that building - both of my sisters worked there!" Quality work environments matter to us: they confer status, help us integrate with the rest of the community, contribute to our self-worth. Located on the northeast entry to the business district, it stands as a cornerpost for the community's well-being, even though empty, because its contributions live in our memories.
And take Ed's Auto, now M & J's, on the northwest corner. To my mind, the place value there is just as high as the Exchange building, but in an opposite way. Ed Schapansky's career as an auto mechanic contributed to my well-being so often I went into mourning when he retired, turning over his business to Miguel (whom he calls "Magill" in his Okie interpretation of Spanish.) Once a Shell gas station, the traces of that national petroleum chain's designs still showing, Ed's Auto is a monument to one individual's entrepreneurial skills and decades of elbow grease meeting a need for care of auto owners as well as their vehicles. I once saw him change the windshield wipers so tenderly for Wayne Wolf, then very elderly, I almost cried.
Although it's difficult to use CEQA to defend the kind of place values I'm describing, that doesn't mean we have to discount them. It's what distinguishes the small town environment from the urban one, and it's time those contributions are recognized.
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Trudy Wischemann is a writer who has always loved places over properties. You can send her your list of place values % P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below!
I hesitated as a small explosion occurred inside my brain, left side, a little toward the front. I recognized the signs, like an epileptic who knows a seizure is about to occur, and kept my mouth shut a few moments longer before answering "I'm not sure."
Though I've had these episodes regularly during my life, it wasn't till that moment I realized how much difficulty I have talking about places as property. My friend deals with properties, planners and developers throughout the Central Valley. It's part of his family history as well as central to his career. He meant no offense.
And I don't mean to be quixotic, always tilting at windmills. I recognize the value of property, how having some (or not) totally shapes our lives in this country, both economically and socially, and that it's one of the ways we make home. My little explosions, however, are triggered by the way we fail to recognize the place value of property, which transcends parcel lines and ownership, and derives from community uses over time.
For instance, some of the opposition I heard to the proposed demolition of the Citrus Exchange building was about the loss of that building as a place that represents a moment of community well-being. My friend Sal Natoli, who graduated from LHS in 1966 and hasn't lived here since, said "Not that building - both of my sisters worked there!" Quality work environments matter to us: they confer status, help us integrate with the rest of the community, contribute to our self-worth. Located on the northeast entry to the business district, it stands as a cornerpost for the community's well-being, even though empty, because its contributions live in our memories.
And take Ed's Auto, now M & J's, on the northwest corner. To my mind, the place value there is just as high as the Exchange building, but in an opposite way. Ed Schapansky's career as an auto mechanic contributed to my well-being so often I went into mourning when he retired, turning over his business to Miguel (whom he calls "Magill" in his Okie interpretation of Spanish.) Once a Shell gas station, the traces of that national petroleum chain's designs still showing, Ed's Auto is a monument to one individual's entrepreneurial skills and decades of elbow grease meeting a need for care of auto owners as well as their vehicles. I once saw him change the windshield wipers so tenderly for Wayne Wolf, then very elderly, I almost cried.
Although it's difficult to use CEQA to defend the kind of place values I'm describing, that doesn't mean we have to discount them. It's what distinguishes the small town environment from the urban one, and it's time those contributions are recognized.
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Trudy Wischemann is a writer who has always loved places over properties. You can send her your list of place values % P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below!
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