The New Age of age

Act your age!

We’ve all heard it — and, along about the age of 25, I found myself saying it. But it no longer elicits an exaggerated sigh and grudging obedience from the younger set. Thanks to rabid marketing, kids — and even some adults — are more likely to respond with, “Say what?”

“Ten is the new 15?” the Associated Press asked in a November article. That same month, Reuters discussed how cosmetic surgery is altering people’s perceptions about what is “old” and what is “middle-aged.” If one accepts the more traditional social constructs of age, it would seem we’re in a hopeless muddle about how old we really are.

Acting our age is becoming progressively more difficult. Let’s start with the kids — and the caveat that since I am no longer a kid (I hit the ripe old No. 34 on Jan. 1), nor do I have any, these observations might be characterized as those of a clueless old fogey.

According to the AP, from dates, to cell phones, to more adult music and, for girls, hypersexual clothing styles, the 8- to 12-year-olds among us are growing up too fast and are faced with enormous pressure to do so.

This is a timeless lament, but it used to be that the pressure came from peers, not from marketers who want to tap into the prosperity we’re sharing with our kids in the form of $51 billion in gifts and allowances. They’ve even coined a term for your children: the thoroughly obnoxious and moronic word, “tweens,” as in, “between childhood and adolescence.” Never mind that the 8-to-12 crowd is not between anything. They are children — whether they like it or not — and who gave companies the right to redefine childhood?

Answer: Us.

To begin with, we allow kids to listen to the inappropriate music and we buy them the inappropriate clothing, the expensive gadgets. Worse, we also reinforce the desirability of such things, either through a lack of example, or through laziness by not better monitoring the influences on our children’s lives. (Yes, I am speaking of TV.) Is it any wonder that Jimmy wants an iPod and, when he gets one, he spends more time with it than with his parents?

We could ask Natalie, a girl who told the AP she wanted an iPod and a cell phone because, “Sometimes, I just think that maybe, if I got one of these things, I could talk about what they (popular kids) talk about.” In other words, she doesn’t want a gadget. She wants to belong. Marketing companies know this. And thus, we have serious news articles asking: “Is 10 the new 15?”

But don’t despair. Aging adults, prompted by our insane worship of youthful beauty, are doing their damnedest to at least look as young as possible, so in some ways, the suddenly promoted 10-year-olds are being replaced. “Sixty,” proclaims a Reuters headline, “is the new 40.”

Reuters cites a survey by AC Nielsen that found 60 percent of Americans regard 60 as the new middle age. There’s nothing wrong with that viewpoint in and of itself. It’s just regrettable that it comes from advances in cosmetic surgery, rather than openmindedness.

The scalpel and Botox, after all, can make us look much younger, and the survey reported even people in their 80s were being “refreshed” through surgery. Other “advances” include “lunchtime lipo” and a spray to protect skin from electromagnetic radiation from cell phones.

And let’s not forget the Botox adverts appearing in major magazines, which depict women (I’ve yet to see a man) holding up a sign that reads: “I did it for me!” Yes, that’s right! I had poison injected into my skin because I care so very much about myself!

The successful exploitation of vanity has caused our grasp on reality to slip. Aging is natural. So is death. It’s not as if taking years off your face equates to adding years to your life. It would seem, too, that undergoing some of these risky cosmetic procedures is akin to throwing out a welcome mat for the Grim Reaper.

It also reinforces appearance-based bigotry. Just as women are now expected to look like supermodels — or at least invest significant time and money into the attempt — we’re fast on the way to expecting the elderly to look middleaged, and constantly telling them how inadequate and irresponsible they are if they don’t.

A climate in which neither an 8-year-old boy nor an 80-year-old woman is really allowed to “act” their age is one created by artificial want: Timmy wants the more expensive trappings of adulthood, while Ethel will pay anything to retain the skin she had 40 years ago. This climate is a marketer’s dream come true. But it’s a pretty lousy deal for the rest of us.

Katharhynn Heidelberg is a journalist in Montrose, Colo.

Published in Katharhynn Heidelberg

Scenery: priceless; Jobs: hard to find

Leaders struggle to boost the economy of Southwest Colorado

DOWNTOWN CORTEZLast summer, when the Montezuma County commissioners were considering whether to permit a motorcycle rally to take place over Labor Day weekend, organizers for the Rally in the Rockies frequently argued that the county needed the rally because it was “the most economically depressed county in Colorado.”

Turns out that isn’t true. While median household income in Montezuma County is just 67.2 percent of the state average, counties in south-central and southeastern Colorado are far poorer, according to Bureau of Labor statistics. Costilla, Crowley and Saguache counties all make less than 50 percent of the state average median household income, and many other counties make less than 60 percent. (Dolores County’s median household income is 64.7 percent of the state average, La Plata County’s 86.8 percent.)

But, despite rampant residential growth, Southwest Colorado isn’t exactly prosperous, either. While volunteer opportunities abound, paying jobs — especially the kind that offer decent wages and benefits — remain scanty.

A 2006 survey of 61 businesses in Montezuma County found that while the businesses had a median number of 14 employees, only 43 percent of those workers were full-time. And when asked to project employment three years into the future, the companies estimated they’d add 15 percent more workers, but of those, just under one-third would be full-time.

“Frankly, my take is you better bring your money with you if you live here,” commented Kelly Coburn, a retired business consultant in Dolores.

No interstate

Economic development in Southwest Colorado is hampered by several major problems, according to Cortez City Manager Hal Shepherd.

One is a lack of infrastructure to attract sizable manufacturing firms. “It’s so many miles from an interstate interchange and so many miles from a major airport,” Shepherd said. “We just have a three-times-a-day commuter plane. And we don’t have rail. That puts Denver and Colorado Springs in the driver’s seat.”

Of course, Cortez and Montezuma County aren’t really seeking a giant factory to relocate here, Shepherd said.

“We’re not looking for a 2,000-person plant, but we would like to have a 20- to-25-person facility,” he said. “If we had 10 of those that would be great. Diversification is important so you’re not tied to one industry.”

But, again, the lack of infrastructure hurts. “I’ve talked to people who look at us and at Grand Junction. They say, ‘You have a nice place, but I can be on I-70 right away [from Grand Junction]. That four-hour trip our trucks would take just to get to Grand Junction is a lot of employee time and wages and gasoline.’

“And then there’s Gallup [N.M.] to the south on I-40. They’ll take a hard look at both of those locations before they’d look at us.”

Another factor is a lack of industrial park space, pre-zoned, with water and power available. “We don’t have any available in the cities,” Shepherd said. “We need to find some vacant land in the county that would be amenable to a business park.” But that’s difficult, when people can usually make more money selling their land for residential subdivisions than industrial uses.

Still, Montezuma County has “quality of life” to offer, and that intangible factor has proven successful in attracting a few companies such as Tuffy Security. Owned by Shawn Gregory, Tuffy moved from Lakewood, Colo., to Cortez in the 1990s because Gregory and his wife, Dani, are mountain-bikers who wanted to live in an environment with many recreational opportunities.

Shepherd said another man who makes guitar strings moved here from California recently. “He liked the lifestyle,” Shepherd said. “He ships strings by Fed Ex everywhere. If you have an 800 number, a fax, and UPS it’s not hard [for small operations] to locate in places where you couldn’t years ago.”

But other factors impede efforts to attract new businesses, Shepherd said. In a guest column in the Cortez Journal, he called them “the three crises of Montezuma County” – insufficient health care, inadequate support for schools, and lack of a coordinated economic-development effort.

“They’re all intertwined,” Shepherd said.

Civic leaders were dismayed at the failure on Nov. 7 of a proposed ballot measure to increase the mill levy for the Cortez school district in order to make teacher salaries more competitive and improve the curriculum. The state has placed the Re-1 district on accreditation watch because of low student test scores.

Shepherd said a strong educational system is needed to make the area attractive to workers with families.

“I don’t think the hospital is going to get a doctor to come here if the school’s not accredited,” he said.

Access to health care is another ongoing problem in Montezuma County. Seeing a specialist generally means driving 50 miles to Durango or even farther, and primary-care physicians are in short supply, although a new one was recently recruited to a local practice. Attracting retirees and families to an area where basic health care requires driving out of town is an uphill battle, Shepherd noted.

No coordinated effort

The third crisis he sees — the absence of a coordinated county-wide economic-development effort — reflects a long struggle among local leaders to decide who should be responsible for such an undertaking.

A private non-profit group known as the Cortez Development Council was started in the late 1980s. The CDC evolved into the Montezuma County Economic Development Council, which through most of the 1990s was funded by the city, the county, and private memberships. But though the MCEDC managed to recruit a few companies, including Tuffy, it didn’t have the success that leaders had hoped, and struggled to raise private funds.

The county pulled its support, and the city of Cortez took over economic development, hiring Bruce Johnson to seek business opportunities for both the city and county.

But after four years, city leaders became tired of shouldering the financial burden and of seeing few results. They laid Johnson off at the end of 2005, deciding to focus on economic development for the city only, mainly in the form of special-events planning.

“I took the $60,000 a year we were putting into economic development and put it into special events,” Shepherd said. The effort, headed by Ami Fair, works on keeping events such as car shows and crafts fairs happening regularly in Cortez, especially during the summer.

“It helps motels and restaurants, and that’s one kind of economic development,” Shepherd said. “It will help small business and that’s our goal.”

The county launched a transitional economic-development effort of its own, with Carla Harper in charge on a part-time basis. She organized meetings with local leaders and concerned citizens to brainstorm ideas for helping the economy. But that program was dissolved at the end of 2006 in favor of trying to organize a more permanent, grassroots group that would include more private funding.

Shepherd is skeptical about how much the private sector can be expected to fund economic-development efforts that could attract businesses that might directly compete with theirs. “Government has to be the leader,” he said.

Helping small business

Friction hasn’t occurred only between the city and the county, but sometimes between municipalities as well. Leaders for the town of Mancos were incensed when Cortez financed a feasibility study for an aerial tram that would have carried tourists from a site near Cortez up to Mesa Verde National Park. Mancos leaders felt if the tram rides originated from near Cortez, it would pull tourists away from Mancos.

In the end, the study found that the tram wasn’t financially feasible and wouldn’t draw enough riders, but the effort left some irritated feelings on both sides.

No matter who is in charge of economic development, there are still numerous difficulties and questions to deal with.

One question is how many incentives to give for businesses to move here when local entrepreneurs have had to get by with little or no financial help other than loans. County commissioners have expressed reluctance to offer tax breaks to new businesses relocating here.

The city of Cortez did offer sales-tax incentives to Safeway to open a store and, later, to Big R, a farm-goods retailer, which moved into the old Kmart building on Main Street in 2006. “That brought us 30 full-time jobs in what was an empty building,” Shepherd said.

He believes the incentives were worth it and the cost was soon recouped after the businesses opened.

But he said maintaining existing businesses and helping them to expand is also crucial — ”it’s a whole lot easier to do that than get another business to come here. It takes a long time to get retailers and restaurants interested in us.”

Joe Keck, director of the Small Business Development Center at Fort Lewis College in Durango, agrees.

He said financial help for small businesses, beyond loans, is fairly limited. “There’s a lot of hype about grant programs for small business, but it’s 99 percent hype. We have people come in asking about all these grants for getting a small business started, and we try to work with them to let them know there are a few odds and ends but they’re pretty small.

“At some point it might be good public policy for towns to consider giving small business some of the sales-tax rebates or credits that they give to large retailers to come in, espeically if leakage is going on in a certain area, because you want to have retail diversity.”

Keck’s center, however, offers extensive help with creating a business plan or restructuring businesses that may be struggling. And the Region 9 Economic Development District provides communtiy- development services to five counties in Southwest Colorado. Among those services is a revolving loan fund to help small businesses.

Ups and downs

Another key question is how much the local economy should depend on tourism. The Mesa Verde Country tourism promotion program, headed by Lynn Dyer, is widely praised for its effectiveness and efficiency.

“We’ve done an excellent job in the tourism-marketing area,” Keck said. “That’s kind of a model program from what I see in the five counties I cover.”

But jobs tied to tourism tend to be seasonal and low-paying. And tourism is subject to the vagaries of weather, foreign currency values and unexpected events. In the past 15 years, wildfires at Mesa Verde, outbreaks of hantavirus and even the bizarre manhunt for three cop-killers in 1998 have dampened visitation.

Mesa Verde celebrated its centennial year in 2006, and park visitation is expected to slide somewhat after that high point. It’s been on the decline over the years anyway, falling from a peak of 772,000 in 1988 to around 450,000 annually.

Efforts to promote the area for attributes other than Ancestral Puebloan ruins have had mixed results. Some local leaders hope to develop a fullfledged marina at McPhee Reservoir, which is the second-largest body of water in the state. But federal funds for such a project are few, with the Iraq war draining billions out of the budget.

Local restaurateurs and motel owners were excited when it appeared the Rally in the Rockies might bring thousands of bikers to the area over Labor Day 2006, but the county commissioners rejected the event because of concerns that the last-minute proposal did not leave enough time for law enforcement to prepare.

Now, the municipalities and counties in Southwest Colorado are planning a more modest biker rally in 2007, with events spread around the area. “This time there’s no promoter to make all the money and leave,” Shepherd said.

Shepherd sees reason for optimism about Cortez’s economy, noting that sales-tax revenues in the city were up 9 1/2 percent in 2006 over 2005. “Our retail seems to be doing pretty well,” he said.

“Our goal has always been to try and create jobs for the people who live here — not import the people, just the jobs,” Shepherd said.

Agriculture’s role

Another question is how much of a role agriculture, once a mainstay of the area, will play in the future.

A “buy local” grassroots campaign is urging consumers to purchase foods produced by Montezuma and Dolores County farmers, and Dolores County is working to build a biodiesel plant in Dove Creek that would provide a market for sunflower and canola crops. But not everyone agrees that that’s the direction to go.

Coburn, who teaches classes occasionally at the San Juan Basin Technical College, believes agriculture’s role here will inevitably decline. Coburn worked for many years as a business consultant for Accenture, based in Denver. For 18 years, he worked off and on in southeast Asia as a teacher and a consultant for the mining industry.

“There’s a lot of buy-local sentiment here, but I’m just the opposite,” Coburn said. “Part of my job in Indonesia was to help their middle managers understand globalization and embrace it. We have to be prepared for a borderless world.

“If I buy a pound of coffee at [the Dolores Food Market] I would be happy if it came by Fed Ex from China, if it’s better or cheaper. I hold no allegiance to the local economy whatever.”

Coburn said the ag community “really is just a bunch of real-estate speculators, because nobody really makes a profit raising beans or cattle. All their profit comes from the appreciation [and eventual sale] of their land.” He said Americans need to face the fact that most of the world is filled with people who are willing to work harder for less money than they are.

“In Indonesia the minimum wage is between $40 and $50 a month, and unemployment levels, once you include the under-employed, are about 40 percent. You can purchase labor for about 15 cents an hour.”

Coburn said the water in McPhee is an enormous asset, “but what do we do with it? We use it to grow alfalfa, and use that to raise beef. The Brazilians can grow beef cheaper. That water applied to domestic use would support a community of 1 million people, if we want it.”

Coburn said he is not optimistic about the area’s economic future. “I view Montezuma County today as an economic cemetery,” he said.

He called local retail “a disaster” and said too many people open businesses without any thought as to whether they will fill a need. “Look at Dolores,” he said. “Every new business that opens has a 95 percent chance of failing, because it never should have opened in the first place. We have six or seven massage-therapist businesses competing, and three businesses that will sell you something organic.”

A regional trade center

But Keck said data compiled by the Region 9 Economic Development District show that local retail is actually doing fairly well.

The survey looked at sales per capita – adjusted for income – as compared to the state average.

In 2005, Montezuma County had a “pull factor” of 1.06, meaning it saw slightly more sales per capita than the state average (which would be 1), and Cortez had a pull factor of 2.54. The pull factor is derived by dividing percapita sales by the state’s per-capita sales.

“Cortez has higher retail sales per capita than Durango,” Keck said. “That really surprised me.” Durango’s pull factor was 2.37.

Dolores County had a pull factor of just 0.62 in 2005, but that showed steady growth from 1999, when it was 0.37. Keck said Cortez comes out ahead because it has a lower population than Durango, but it draws trade from around the region.

“Much of the city’s trade is driven by folks in the county,” Keck said. “And you have people from Monticello, Blanding, [Utah] and the [Navajo and Ute] reservations who shop here.”

Eighty-three percent of the county’s retail sales took place in Cortez in 2005, the study showed.

Expected sales were also calculated using population, income, and the typical pull factor for towns of a similar size. Under that formula, Cortez sales were 159 percent above what would be expected, Dolores’ sales were 11 percent above expectations, and Mancos’ sales were 23 percent below expectations.

“Cortez is the cash register of the county,” Keck said.

The study broke retail trade and retail service sales down by sector.. Information was not available for categories such as general merchandisers and health-care products, where a few large companies such as Wal-Mart so dominated the sales that the information was considered confidential.

Some of the sectors doing the best in Montezuma County are:

  • Non-store outlets (catalogue and Internet sales, and traveling businesses such as festivals and art shows). They did 379 percent over the state average.
  • Construction, with a 51 percent surplus over the state average;
  • Building materials/gardens, (43 percent surplus).
  • Food/beverage stores (39 percent)
  • Gas stations (37 percent). Areas doing poorly included:
  • Electronics/appliances (96 percent under average);
  • Furniture (78 percent under);
  • Clothing (68 percent under).

Within the city of Cortez, strong performers were motor-vehicle and parts outlets, food and beverage retailers, non-store outlets and building materials/ gardening businesses.

Health/social assistance sectors saw a great deal of “leakage,” meaning people obtain them out of the area, in both Montezuma County and Cortez. So did professional/technical services.

“That really shows some marketing opportunity there,” Keck said.

Cortez’s strong retail sales don’t necessarily translate to flourishing locally owned businesses. Much of the sales occur at Wal-Mart, City Market, and Safeway, all big franchises.

“We had more retail diversity in the ’60s than now,” Keck said. “There were three or four nice sporting-goods stores, more clothing stores. That two to three-block area downtown was really full. I think so much of the market opportunity has been sucked up by the Big Boxes and catalogues and Internet sales. It’s very challenging. A small company really has to have all its ducks in a row.”

Downtown struggles

That sentiment was echoed by Babette Kimble, who moved here with her family in 1962 and later left, only to return again 20 years later.

Kimble said she remembers Cortez’s Main Street in the 1960s as a much more vibrant place. “Back in ’62, Main Street was more dynamic than it is now because it was before the franchises moved into the area. The stores on Main were pretty full.”

Today, downtown Cortez is struggling. Many shops have closed, and although some new ones have opened, there are plenty of vacant spaces.

Kimble herself opened a coffee shop downtown on Main in 2006 but closed it after about six months. She said she’d chosen a poor location – in the middle of a block where parking was limited – and was faced with competition from many other coffee shops.

“Although my business was paying for itself, I wasn’t making any money,” she said. “The work was brutal — it was 12- hour days consistently. I knew all the [coffee] businesses wouldn’t make it, so I was willing to close my doors.”

She said she couldn’t fault the city for a lack of support. “Marcy [Cummins, executive director] with the Cortez Area Chamber of Commerce was very willing to be helpful,” she said.

But Kimble worries about the future of downtown, with Big Box retailers booming on the fringes of Cortez.

“The large franchises moving in — in certain respects they’re helpful to the community but in others they’re very harmful,” Kimble said.

‘Dolores was doomed’

Coburn doesn’t see the franchises as bad but as a natural result of the competitive global economy.

He said for economic development to succeed in Southwest Colorado, leaders need to decide what our competitive advantage is. “What can we do better, faster and cheaper than anybody else? What are we good at? What are our assets?”

Montezuma County would be a great place for an Outward Bound campus, a four-year college or a resort, he suggested, but probably not for large factories or plants.

The area’s main asset remains quality of life – “all the reasons I’m here,” he said. “The recreational opportunities, natural beauty, climate, and all the things we don’t have — traffic jams, crime, gangs. And we have affordability for those who brought their money with them, though not for those trying to make a living.”

Coburn, who met his wife when both were Outward Bound instructors, said when he finished his last job in Indonesia he told her they could move anywhere in the world. “She chose Dolores, Colorado,” he said. Now they are building a solar-heated house in town.

“This is a great place for young retirees,” he said. “It’s a great place to retire when you’re 50 – but not when you’re 80 and need major health care.”

But as people flock here for the quality of life, they will inevitably degrade it with increasing traffic, home prices and crowding, Coburn noted. “We joke that Dolores was doomed when my wife chose it,” he said.

The Coburns moved to Fort Myers, Fla., in 1996, when it was a sleepy retirement community. Soon after, an influx of retirees came. “Today it’s nothing like it was. It’s got the crime and horrendous traffic, and prices of homes have tripled. I kind of expect the same to happen here, but it seems to be happening slower.”

Coburn said in all likelihood, the county will continue to boom with residential growth but not with commercial, he predicted. “When I gaze into my crystal ball, I see more people like myself coming here.

“I see a lot more million-dollar homes with the comfortably retired rich enjoying the good life, unless someone stumbles onto a niche.”

A final question

The county economic-development effort led by Harper in 2006 identified a number of areas of concern. Committees were formed to work on business retention, work-force development and planning for a commercial business park.

Meanwhile, the county continues to try to develop a multi-faceted community- development group with support from all local governments.

But another question remains: How much development do residents want?

In November, voters said no to a number of measures that were considered critical for economic development. They denied the school mill-levy increase, rejected mandatory residential building codes in the county, nixed a minuscule sales tax to improve the county fairgrounds, and said no to a half-cent sales tax to chip-seal more roads.

A number of voters have said that, at least on the road question, they said no because they don’t want to encourage sprawl and development.

Finding the balance between a strong economy and a population boom that erodes quality of life may be the most difficult problem of all to solve.

Published in -February 2007

Locals find raising guide dogs is a labor of love

 

LINDA AND DAVID STARLIPER AND GUIDE-DOG-IN-TRAINING, CHERThe holiday travelers waited patiently at the Cortez Municipal Airport to board their flight for Denver. When the last passenger made her way through the metal detector, the alarm sounded. “We’ll have to pat her down,” a security officer said.

As the officer knelt to start the inspection, the passenger’s composure melted and she began to wag her tail furiously. She was, after all, just a puppy and this was only her second time traveling by air.

Cher is a 16-month-old yellow Labrador retriever. Her traveling companions, Linda and David Starliper of Summit Ridge, Colo., are raising her as part of the Guide Dogs for the Blind puppy-raising program. The Starlipers were making their way to Denver for the holidays and, as a guide-dog puppy in training, Cher goes everywhere with them.

“She did fine on this trip,” Linda said. “The first trip, it wasn’t pretty. The copilot had to carry her on board because she just balked at going up the steps. The plane [engine] was going and she was only 5 months old.”

On this trip, despite the noisy engines, Cher calmly negotiated the narrow steps to board the Great Lakes Airlines plane. She followed Linda and David to the back row and settled quietly at their feet, where she remained for the duration of the flight. It was a demonstration of the successful training she’s received from the Starlipers over the past 14 months.

Linda, 67, a retired teacher and counselor, and David, 71, who retired from the railroad, began raising guide-dog puppies four years ago. It’s an entirely volunteer endeavor and, although David claims to be “just a bystander,” Linda insists he participates in the puppy-raising as much as she does.

Cher is their third puppy, and Linda made sure to explain that they don’t have a hand in choosing the puppies’ names.

LINDA STARLIPER SHOPPING WITH CHER“We don’t name them. I’m going to wear a sweatshirt saying that,” she said, laughing. “My last dog was named Glendale.” And their first puppy was, simply, Carl.

Linda said she became interested in raising a guide-dog puppy after reading a book about guide dogs as a child. However, she never pursued that interest when she was young.

“As an adult, I developed some heart problems and I needed something to take me out of myself. You know, you get to thinking about your health too much,” Linda said. After seeing an ad seeking puppy-raisers, she decided to fulfill that childhood desire.

“And I thought I’d better do it now because I’m not getting any younger,” she said. “My heart problems are all better, not because I did the guide-dog program, but I loved it and I kept doing it.”

Linda and David are two of some 1,400 puppy-raisers across eight Western states currently participating in the guide-dog puppy program, according to the Guide Dogs for the Blind, Inc., website, www.guidedogs.com.

Guide Dogs for the Blind was created in 1942 and operates two facilities located in San Rafael, Calif., and Boring, Ore. The school matches guide dogs with blind and visually impaired people to provide them with increased mobility. More than 10,000 teams have graduated from Guide Dogs for the Blind since its founding.

The school offers all the training and support the students require, as well as follow-up service for their graduates for the lifetime of their guide-dog partnership. Private donations fund all the school’s programs, and all its services are provided free of charge to students.

In addition to providing canine guides, Guide Dogs offers many other programs including the K9 Buddy Program, which provides specially selected dogs to become pets for visually impaired children who are not ready for a guide dog. The guide-dog school also works to find jobs for its “career-changed” dogs, ones who don’t make the cut to be guide dogs. A career-changed dog may be adopted by its puppy-raiser or go on to work in search and rescue, hearing or servicedog training, agility, cancer detection or pet therapy.

Guide Dogs puppy-raising is also an accredited 4-H project, and many puppy-raising groups are formed under the 4-H program.

A raiser’s job is to teach the puppy basic obedience and good manners, and to socialize it. Puppies accompany their raisers just about everywhere — grocery stores, school and work, restaurants, shops and malls — to gain exposure to a variety of places, people and situations.

The Americans with Disabilities Act allows guide dogs in most public places, including airlines. Accessibility for the guide-dog puppies in training, however, depends on the state, Linda said. “In Colorado they can go anywhere that a guide dog can go.”

When a guide-dog puppy in training is working it wears a distinctive identification jacket.

“Once you put the jacket on, Cher’s a different dog,” David said.

But sometimes that jacket creates its own set of challenges.

“When the public sees a guide dog [puppy] with its jacket on they want to pet it,” David said. “That’s not a good thing. The dog is working.”

According to the Guide Dogs web site, a person should always ask permission to meet a guide dog or a puppy in training and should never distract a guide dog. Individuals should approach one at a time, speak softly to the dog and offer the back of their hand for the dog to sniff.

The Starlipers said that most people are cooperative and helpful when they are out in public with Cher. They don’t get much resistance from business owners to allow them access.

“Restaurants are the biggest problem,” Linda said. She said sometimes business owners just don’t understand that Cher should be allowed into their establishment, but she uses that as an opportunity to educate them. She doesn’t get pushy, however, so as not to create a bad impression of the puppy-raising program.

“If people are too resistant, I just drop it and don’t go back,” she said. Puppy-raisers certainly aren’t on their own. The Starlipers, along with other puppy-raisers in the area, attend regular meetings organized by Darla Welty of Mancos, the volunteer leader for the local guide-dog puppy group. Welty evaluates each dog, makes suggestions for specific training situations and instructs the raisers in new training methods. It is Welty’s job to make sure all training procedures are done the way Guide Dogs wants.

Welty is not only the direct link between Guide Dogs for the Blind and the raisers in the area, she also brought the guide-dog puppy program to the Four Corners about 17 years ago. She was raising a guide-dog puppy at the time and knew the program was looking for more raisers.

“The biggest thing that you have to have is the commitment of time,” Welty said. “When you get a baby puppy at 8 weeks old, you are getting up in the middle of the night — taking them out every two hours, feeding them three times a day, and spending a lot of time with them.”

During this phase, Welty meets weekly with puppy-raisers and their new charges.

“We meet once a week because the puppies change so fast,” she said.

“That’s how often you may have to change how you are dealing with the puppy.”

The good thing about dogs, she said, is that they pass through the most time-consuming stage quickly, usually in a few weeks. After that, when the puppies are 5 or 6 months old, raisers attend meetings twice a month to work on any issues that might arise.

Besides offering Welty a chance to assess each puppy’s progress, the meetings are also fun training opportunities. Recently, the group met at the Durango Mall for a scavenger hunt to expose the puppies to the shopping-mall environment. This type of exercise is a crucial component of the puppies’ development, Welty said.

“Dogs learn context all the time,” she said. “If a dog learns to be really good and calm and quiet in your house that’s nice, and for most dogs that’s enough.” Guide dogs, however, must learn to be good and calm in every type of environment and situation.

Welty said that even with the significant time commitment and responsibility involved in raising a guide dog it is still a rewarding endeavor.

And it’s needed, she said. “We are always looking for dedicated people who would like to do this.”

Welty looks for people who can make the commitment to care for a puppy for 14 to 18 months and have the time to go to all of the meetings. If a puppy-raiser has their own pets, those pets must be nice and friendly, and raisers must have some kind of fenced enclosure for their puppy.

Raisers who work often obtain permission from their employer to take the puppy to work. And if a young person wants to raise a puppy, Welty makes sure a parent will do the project with them.

In the process of socializing and training a guide-dog puppy, raisers predictably become very attached.

“When you teach animals to do things, you really form a great bond with them,” Welty said.

Ultimately, the most difficult challenge of being a puppy-raiser is giving the dog back.

“The biggest thing we hear from people is, ‘Oh, I couldn’t bear to give up a dog’,” Welty said. “We tell them that this is like having children. At some point, you plan on your child leaving you. And you are not successful unless that does happen.

“These dogs go back and we hear about their training. We get invited to graduations and people are so appreciative and so thankful,” she said. “If you enjoy dogs and you enjoy raising them and training them, you’ve had fun the entire project year. And you get to do that year after year.”

And for puppy-raisers who come back year after year, the rewards are great.

“When you give time and, really, so much of yourself to these dogs, that makes it a much more meaningful gift,” Welty said. “This is not just a money thing — you didn’t just write a check. You put the kind of time and effort into that dog that makes it a very special gift for somebody.”

For the Starlipers, the time to send Cher back is approaching. And even though she is their third puppy, it doesn’t get easier.

“You wouldn’t do this if you didn’t like dogs. You get really attached,” Linda said. “Giving them up is just terrible. I got notice that Cher will probably go back March 31st. I just put that out of my mind until the day comes.”

As Linda and David struggle to hold back tears, they remember the bittersweet heartbreak of returning their first dog, Carl.

“We both had tears in our eyes,” David said. “I was upset and didn’t want to do it. But a young blind girl got up and she thanked everybody for raising the dogs. She said, ‘I want to thank you for letting me see the world.’

“It was worth it,” he said. “It gives you some hope.”

Published in -February 2007

An easy-to-read book with a hard message

There’s no reason you should’ve ever heard of Mukhtar Mai, one face of many in Punjab Province, Pakistan. But, once you’ve read one page of her story, “In the Name of Honor,” you’ll find she’s impossible to forget.

In simple language, Mai tells the world how she was gang-raped at the behest of a more powerful clan, the Mastoi, which claimed her younger brother had dishonored them by speaking to one of their women.

Mai was supposed to keep her mouth shut, supposed to have dutifully killed herself. Instead, she stood up and embarked on a relentless quest for justice, one that brought Pakistan unwelcome — but necessary — attention. In a village where women were once educated only “for the house,” a school for boys and girls now stands. And, despite opposition from the Islamist party, Pakistan recently passed legislation doing away with the requirement that a woman produce four male witnesses to her rape. That’s Mukhtar Mai’s legacy. That, and this book — so easy to read and yet, so hard.

It’s unvarnished without being explicit. Mai did believe it was her duty to beg forgiveness for the imaginary crime of her brother, Shakur. Her own neighbors believed she was told to marry a Mastoi man but had refused, so what happened was “her fault.” Mai herself believed in the complicity of the higher-caste woman, Salma, who’d made a series of ever-changing complaints against her brother, despite the distinct possibility Salma was a pawn in the same sexist game that sought to destroy Mai. It’s hard to read these things, but Mai and her translator do an excellent job of truly putting readers in her shoes.

Initially, her rage is not as strong as Western readers are likely to think it should be, but this builds as Mai becomes more and more aware of the depth of the injustice done to both her and her family. Through her we learn Shakur was raped as well, and their entire family threatened, not just once, but repeatedly, as she went back and forth seeking justice in the Pakistani courts.

Mai’s strength also gathers steam. The peasant woman who was once browbeaten into affixing her thumbprint onto a blank “statement” became the woman who refused to leave the office of a government minister until he issued new arrest warrants for her attackers. And she stood up to the president who prevented her from traveling abroad as her story gained attention; their feud continues on the bookshelves, where “In the Name of Honor” is eclipsing Musharraf’s own book.

“In the Name of Honor” painfully illustrates how this brave woman faced not only her attackers, not only stigma and disbelief, but an entire social system in which women really are nothing more than chattel — used to settle tribal quarrels, used to seal alliances. Used.

As she recounts: “Women are the ones exchanged as merchandise to help resolve conflicts and exact punishment. And the punishment is always the same. When sexuality is taboo, when a man’s honor…is centered in women, the only solution he can find to settle all scores is compulsory marriage or rape. This behavior is not what the Koran teaches us.”

It took Mukhtar Mai to tell the men of Pakistan this. Such “honor crimes” are par for the course, she writes, listing anecdotal stories of women being disfigured, even killed, for daring to choose their own husbands, and of teenagers who are kidnapped and forced into marriage. Plus, she exposes the disconnect between official Pakistani law and local tribal jirga— and points out how abuse is not solely the fate of poor, uneducated women like herself.

“Honor” is not flawless prose, nor a perfect work, but it is a perfectly necessary read for anyone truly committed to human rights. Anyone can criticize an outrage. Not everyone can live through it, let alone emerge stronger and lend a helping hand to others.

Mukhtar Mai has done that. Reading her courageous story from the comfort of our couches seems the least we can do for her.

Published in -February 2007, Arts & Entertainment

Defying tradition: An exhibit showcases the art of a Pueblo woman who chose her own path

In 1918 a baby was born at New Mexico’s Santa Clara Pueblo. Her grandmother named her Tse Tsan (Golden Dawn), and began explaining that women filled traditional roles of mother and wife at Santa Clara.

"HARVEST DANCE" BY PABLITA VELARDE

Then, at age 6, Tse Tsan went to St. Catherine’s Boarding School in Santa Fe. Her teachers gave her a European name, Pablita Velarde. They also nursed her through an illness that caused temporary blindness.

Pablita Velarde transferred to the Santa Fe Indian School at age 14. There, she met art teacher Dorothy Dunn, who was developing a studio that would train many Native American artists.

Ignoring Santa Clara traditions, Velarde studied easel painting with Dunn, and at age 19, began a career creating murals at the new Bandelier National Monument Visitors Center for the Works Progress Administration. By the time she died in 2005, she had achieved international fame as an artist.

“She was very independent, and I think it was that independent spirit. . . that moved her forward as an artist,” says Shelby Tisdale, director of Santa Fe’s Museum of Indian Arts and Culture.

On Feb. 18, the museum will open the exhibit “A New Deal for Tse Tsan: Pablita Velarde and Bandelier.” To Tisdale, the show celebrates the life of a special person. Not only did Velarde experiment with design, pigment, and media, but she dared to pursue a painting career at a time when Pueblo women did not.

If they had art talent, they wove or made pottery. Men painted, and focused on male subjects and themes. “It wasn’t easy for her when she went home to the Pueblo,” says Tisdale.

How, then, did Velarde persevere? Tisdale laughs. “She didn’t take any guff.” A supportive father, the fact that she’d lived away from her family while young, and the illness she faced, all gave her the strength not to care what people thought of her. “She blazed a trail for other women to follow.”

Pueblo muralist Tonita Pena probably also helped her. They worked together on Velarde’s first assignment for Bandelier. “[Pena] may have had many of the same experiences [as Velarde]. She was a good role model.”

Velarde produced 84 paintings for Bandelier in casein, on masonite, matte board, and glass, between 1939 and 1945. When the monument didn’t employ her, she sold paintings in front of the Palace of the Governors in Santa Fe.

Velarde developed an innovative style early. Dunn encouraged her students to paint on flat, white backgrounds, with open space. She stressed an art-deco look, with repetitive designs, blocky colors, and close attention to precise, elemental details.

While many Native American artists kept to Dunn’s style, Velarde broke quickly away from it.

“Take ‘The Procession from the Church,’” says Tisdale, of a painting that depicts the beginning of a parade to honor a saint. “People pour out the doors of a beautiful church. You get a sense of something happening in the painting.”

She describes “Pueblo Home” as a “cutaway like when you were a child and you had a doll house. You were working from behind and you had an idea of what was going on in every room.”

Tisdale laughs. When she looks at Velarde’s paintings they engage all her senses. She says she can almost hear the drums beat, the rattles shake, and the bells jingle.

An image of people grinding corn makes her smell the fresh kernels crushed under stone pestles. Seeing basket-weavers brings the odor of fresh-split branches. “I don’t get that with most paintings,” she confesses. Velarde painted all aspects of Pueblo life, including both men and women as subjects. Clothing and hair styles; and everyday utensils fascinated her.

In “Basket Makers,” she not only showed the weavers, but also the young men gathering the willows, and the women preparing them for use.

“Silversmith” includes a detailed work bench filled with the artist’s tools.

“So we have this wonderful documentation of a slice time in the 1930s and ’40s that gives you a sense of what it was like living in the pueblos,” says Tisdale.

Later in her career, Velarde collected rocks and ground her own pigments. She called the paintings she made with them her “earth paintings.” Though they don’t appear in “A New Deal for Tse Tsan,” they are among Velarde’s best-known work.

Tisdale spent a year-and-a-half planning “A New Deal for Tse Tsan: Pablita Velarde and Bandelier.” The project began when Gary Roybal, Bandelier National Monument curator and a member of the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture Advisory Board, told her that his museum would soon close for repairs, and that period might be a good time for an exhibit of Velarde’s work in Santa fe.

Tisdale came to Bandelier to look at Velarde’s paintings and “couldn’t pass them up.” Eventually she selected 68 for the show. Most have not been seen by the general public for 30 years.

“A New Deal for Tse Tsan: Pablita Velarde and Bandelier” will include a large portrait of the artist, and a diorama depicting her studio, complete with paints, brushes, glasses, and cigarettes, all lent to the museum by her family. “It’ll be as if she is just coming in to paint,” says Tisdale.

The Museum of Indian Arts and Culture is part of the Museum of New Mexico. Located on Museum Hill in Santa Fe, it’s open 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday. For information, call 505-476-5100.

Published in -February 2007, Arts & Entertainment

Buy-local movement gains steam in area

 

PEGGY AND TONY LITTLEJOHNNot so long ago, residents of Southwest Colorado relied on their own abilities to provide for their families — planting and growing a garden, raising chickens and slaughtering some hogs and cattle. People alive today remember salting, curing and canning meat to get through the long, cold winters in the days before refrigeration. Trips to town netted sacks of sugar and salt from the store and bags of flour from the mill, often made from wheat grown by the consumer, to use in preparing home-baked bread and meals cooked in a real kitchen.

This mode of survival required a large amount of time and labor, as well as knowledge of many skills and a resonance with natural yearly cycles. It brought families together in the fields and in the kitchen. It mandated creativity by the cook, who was faced with the same ingredients day in and day out.

By default it also resulted in healthful lifestyles based on nutritous, locally grown food and the hard work of production. It’s not such a bad thing to eat bacon and eggs from your own pigs and chickens every morning if you then spend 10 hours in hard labor, mending fences, herding animals, and pulling weeds. And farm adventures made for lively conversation over the TV-free family dinner.

It’s easy to romanticize the homesteaders’ lifestyle, but the fact remains that farming is hard work with a small financial return. Compounded with the power of urban thrills luring farm kids to cities and the development of technology to increase efficiency, today’s production system involves a very small number of people producing food for the entire nation. We are enjoying phenomenal returns per acre for grain and legume crops and have transformed beef from a luxury item into a must-have at every meal. The United States produces so much more than it can consume that it ends up giving boatloads (literally) of food away to countries struggling to feed their citizens.

But mass food production has its costs. After 10,000 years of sedentary agriculture devoted to developing highly nutritious and safe food calories, our system has been transformed in the past 60 or 70 years into a production and distribution machine with radically different prioties. Shipability, appearance, uniformity, shelf life and compatibility with mechanical harvesting equipment are now valued over nutritiousness. Food choices are influenced by marketing and dieting trends rather than healthfulness or seasonal appropriateness. Taste is sacrified for calorie-free sweetness and carb-free microwavable meals.

Many people have become dissastified with this trend, however, and as a result a burgeoning local-food movement has arisen nationwide as well as here in the Montelores community. It has taken a variety of forms, from establishing farmers’ markets to rejuvenating gardening clubs to educational presentations and more.

A grassroots campaign headed by local growers Matt Keefauver and Rosie Carter is encouraging folks to consume farm-grown products from Montezuma and Dolores counties — both to ensure the continued success of local farmers and to supply residents with fresh foods.

“Local food is closer to the table,” Keefauver said. It travels less, thus requiring less fossil-fuel input, reducing air pollution and cutting the chemicals needed for food preservation. And consumers know exactly where their food came from, reducing fears about possible contamination with germs.

Studies have shown that most food travels an average of 1,500 miles before reaching your table, initiating the process of decay en route. By reducing the “food miles” of your dinner, you improve your personal and environmental health.

“The best way for a local person to support the movement is to buy locally,” Keefauver said.

Carter’s support for the campaign arose partly from self-interest — she and her husband, Chuck, raise organic produce on their small farm, Stone Free Farms, outside Cortez — but also from a general concern for the area’s economy and for the success of farming, which helps preserve open space.

“Montezuma and Dolores counties raise a lot of food, but it is not always available to local consumers,” she said. Farmers’ markets provide a seasonal link to some products, but not everyone can make it to the markets during their limited hours of operation.

To make it easier for people to buy local, Keefauver and Carter are working on a local-food directory in conjunction with the Southwest Colorado Organic Growers Club to provide information to link producers with consumers.

Linking local producers with local consumers is a win-win for everyone — consumers get products grown for their taste and quality, and farmers enjoy better returns for their efforts. On average, producers make about 10 cents for every dollar invested in the conventional production/distribution systems, but make closer to a dollarfor- dollar profit on local sales. And farmers tend to spend the money locally.

For people interested in not only supporting local producers but becoming producers themselves, the Organic Growers Club provides an opportunity to learn more about gardening on the Colorado Plateau. The groups meets every third Wednesday in the Cortez Journal conference room, 123 Roger Smith Ave., Cortez, with a potluck from 5:30 to 6:30 p.m., followed by club business and usually a presentation or roundtable.

Nancy McGill, who spearheaded the growers club, is glad to see that there is enough interest to sustain it now. “Because we live in a rural area with an agricultural focus, it only makes sense to look for food grown by our neighbors,” she said.

Over time, McGill has witnessed a shift from emphasis on organic foods to an emphasis on local, especially as organic production has been adopted by companies that continue to use an industrial approach to food production.

The farmers’ market season begins in June, with the Saturday morning market in Cortez opening then and the Wednesday afternoon market in Doloes soon after. Mancos also hosts a farmers’ market on Thursday afternoons during the growing season.

Michele Martz of Songhaven Farm in Cahone, Colo., enjoys selling at the markets, and believes that “farmers’ markets fit with a local food movement because they teach the consumer what can be grown here and what is our season.”

Martz has noted that while the Cortez farmers’ market used to be chaotic and sparsely attended at times, changes made in the last season have improved the organization and inspired as many as 45 vendors to set up on the busy summer weekends. Consumers also tend to spend more time shopping there, she said, visiting with friends and turning the market into a social event.

At markets, “farmers learn a lot from each other,” Martz said, swapping notes on pest problems, favorite plant varieties, and strategies to deal with climatic challenges.

Eating local food makes sense on a number of levels for people concerned about food quality, the environment, consumption of fossil fuels, preservation of open space, maintenance of community connections, and the vitality of the local economy.

But while McGill appreciates the ways in which eating locally contributes to the bigger picture of sustainability, she said the best reason to buy local produce is simple.

“The food is fresher and it tastes better,” she said.

Published in -February 2007

Ag producers raising questions about survey

Many Montezuma County farmers and ranchers recently received the “2006 Agricultural Identification Survey” from the USDA National Agricultural Statistics Service. It is a detailed questionnaire with 22 multiple- choice questions: What acreage do you own, rent or use rent-free; what crops do you grow, to 1/10 of an acre; what kinds and how many animals do you raise; what labor do you hire and how much money do you make? The degree of detail has caused some wags to name the survey “No Chicken Left Behind.”

Agricultural surveys are done routinely. “Statistics like this are useful in showing the economic importance of agriculture and in writing legislation, such as the Farm Bill, now in progress,” said Tom Hooten, extension agent with the Colorado Extension Service in Montezuma County.

But this survey is different. It was authorized by a 1997 law enacted to relieve the Census Bureau of the increasing burden of collecting farm data by transferring the job to the USDA. As part of the census, answers can be legally required. Thus the warning, “Response to this survey is legally required by Title 7, U.S. Code.” A $100 fine for not returning it (or a $500 fine for falsification) backs that requirement up.

But according to the 1997 law, the Agricultural Survey was to be taken in 1998 and every five years thereafter, which makes this form either two years too early or three years too late.

Some find the timing suspicious, coming on the heels of the furor over the proposed USDA National Animal Identification System [Free Press, November 2006]. This January had been the intended deadline for premise registration, before the program became voluntary in 2006 as a result of pressure from farmers and ranchers. (This registration by those who sell livestock or poultry is handled by the state government for the USDA with each “premise” given a 15-digit number. Animals are tagged individually with an eight-digit number. All the information goes into a national data bank so that sales and animal movement can be tracked.)

The NAIS program is unpopular in the Four Corners, to say the least. Many producers say it will put many small farmers out of business if they are forced to deal with different types of tags to identify different livestock species. Many producers worry about the loss of privacy as well; the premise registration, which requires either GPS coordinates or address, is particularly unpopular.

Michelle Martz of Cahone, Colo., who is with Montelores Free Farmers, commented, “I’m suspicious that this survey, asking for a lot of the same data that NAIS wants, is just a legal way of getting the numbers for an unpopular ‘voluntary’ program. The NAIS has used data from its sister agency, NASS, in the past.”

Although the recipient is reassured on the form that “your individual answers are kept completely confidential and will not be provided to any individual or organization,” it is not clear that a list of, say, cattle owners could not be compiled and shared with the NAIS.

If the threat of legal action for nonreturn seems heavy-handed, the compilation of agricultural addresses in Montezuma County seems inefficient, having missed many substantial acreages. Apparently county land records, although public and computerized, were not used.

Meanwhile, many city dwellers who subscribe to ag journals have reportedly received forms and are calling the 1- 888-424-7828 information number to inquire why they are considered farmers.

On the other hand, Phyllis Snyder, who with her husband raises cattle in Montezuma County, said, “They do surveys all the time. It’s nothing to worry about.”

So perhaps the timing of the mailing was just an unfortunate coincidence.

Are there any likely consequences to the non-compliant? Possibly a followup call from a survey worker, or, at worst, a $100 fine, which some regard as the price of keeping the federal government out of their business.

Published in -February 2007

Off the grid

It’s not like one of those holiday scenes with snow swirling, caught inside a vigorously shaken orb of winter wonder. It’s only a glass cylinder about the size of a 5-pound coffee can, attached to my telephone post. A silver disc spins inside it. Vaguely resembling a CD player, it’s known in the utilities business as an electric meter. It measures my indulgences.

A long time ago an employee from the electric company used to stop by to read its numbers. Eventually customers were asked to read their own numbers. Then about 10 years ago the electric company replaced my meter and when I looked out my window after dark, a tiny red light winked back at me from under the glass, steady as an omnipresent eye. Now my meter supposedly reads itself.

Benjamin Franklin’s experiment with electricity involved a kite, a key, and a lightning bolt. Frankly, he was taking chances I wouldn’t take. My experiment required only a flashlight and a steady hand. I went outside at night to watch the meter spin.

I’ll admit I didn’t come to any earth-shattering conclusion other than noticing how each revolution was costing me money, so I went back to the house and turned on every big name-brand appliance I owned, then plugged in every Christmas light. In other words, I cranked it up a bit, just to see how much faster the meter moved.

Next I went back into the house and shut everything off. I assumed the meter would slow down, which it did, but it never stopped. I returned to the house and unplugged each and every cord from the wall; it continued to spin. Something – maybe just the pull of the moon – wouldn’t allow the meter to quit. Who knows. It’s even possible that like a hamster in its cage I was expending enough energy running back and forth to the house to keep the wheel turning.

Since my first consumer-based experiment, I’ve located more than a few permanent electrical leaks in my home, most of them approved of or even sponsored by corporate manufacturers and, more than likely, the electric company.

It’s shocking to see how many electrical devices use a continuous flow of electricity. Once they’re plugged in they beep, flash their little lights, wobble and whir, making all the sounds to let me know they’re pleased. In other words, they are manufactured like parasites, to attach themselves to the grid and suck it dry until the device overeats, or the power company goes belly-up,whichever comes first.

Granted, most of them require only a trickle of juice to keep, say, that tiny red LCD light on the TV, DVD player, or surge protector glowing, or the numerals on yet another digital clock crisp enough to read. I counted 14 clocks in my house and I’ve finally noticed it’s time to start paying attention to how much electricity I use. The silver disc spins silently, which is probably best, for if it generated a high-pitched whine the faster it spun, I’d have all the neighborhood dogs in my yard, while the entire population of cities like Phoenix or Las Vegas would be running for their Civil Defense shelters.

The best answer for the desert Southwest still comes from the prospect of generating one’s own electricity through solar power. The technology has been around for decades, but it’s still considered a tree-hugger’s dream. I mean, I thought America would be producing efficient cars after Nixon lowered the national speed limit to 55 mph, but oil well… I guess we have to wait for the reserves to run out.

What I need at my house is a static electrician, someone who can wire the carpeting in my living room and hallway so the electrical discharge I’m constantly firing off into the unknown can be harnessed.

Maybe if I’m lucky, and if I drag my feet, I can generate enough electricity during the next cold spell to sell my surplus power back to the electric company.

David Feela is a teacher at Montezuma-Cortez High School.

Published in David Feela

A disastrous vote in Montezuma County

Some of my friends are going to be upset with me for the coming statements. But, as Truman said, if you can’t take the heat, stay out of the kitchen. I pretty well stay right against the kitchen oven and don’t mind the heat.

While watching the news this morning, I had the opportunity to compare peoples and cultures.

We, the richest and most powerful nation in the world, do not seem to view education and health care in the same vein as other nations, and this unfortunate attitude seems to have wafted its way into Montezuma County.

I was struck by what a couple of young students in Iraq lamented over in their war-torn country. They said the insurrectionists want to keep the population ignorant and uneducated. Isn’t it sad that a number of people who consider themselves pious and righteous in this country have the same attitude toward education as the Iraqi insurgents?

We should take a long and serious look at ourselves after this last election, when the voters in School District Re-1 denied our children access to a better education by nixing a mill-levy increase.

I have just returned from a trip through the Navajo Nation, east to west. Forty years ago I worked in those areas. A number of people told me at that time the Navajos and Hopis would take 100 years to catch up to our standard of living.

Well, wonder of wonders, in 40 years they have not only caught up, they have surpassed us in some ways. There are paved roads in places where I used to drive on gravel and even sand. Schools have sprung up, large state-of-the-art schools where there were only small trading posts. There are shopping malls and clean service stations where the employees smile and can count out the correct change. Many speak their native tongue and English too. It seems education precedes progress.

But, you say, they had government help! Well, I have never been so proud of the way my small share of taxes was spent — much better than on the carnage of war. There are a number of large hospitals where care is topnotch — more tax money well-spent. The teachers are much appreciated, with salaries of $17,000 to $20,000 more a year than Montezuma County teachers. Are you ashamed yet? You should be.

To vote down a minuscule tax does not speak well of our supposedly pious community. The early settlers of the West knew three things when they settled. They had to build a church, build a school, and hire a schoolteacher. Many times they sent back East to bring teachers to the community. But that mentality has slowly been eroded. Why? I wish I knew.

Shame, shame, shame to those who didn’t vote for the Re-1 initiative. It was to provide a better standard of living for those that care about our young people — the teachers. Dedication deserves a thank-you instead of a nasty snub.

Oh, yes, I hear the excuses. I have no children in school. I’m retired and have a small income. Poor excuses, since someone else paid for their education.

When I chose this pristine area 27 years ago it was a thriving community. We have lost somewhere in the vicinity of 14 to 16 local businesses since that time. Back then, the local dollars circulated at least seven times. Now, thanks to our addiction to Wal-Mart, we are spiraling downward with our money supporting the lifestyle of one of the 10 richest families in the world.

People like to complain about the local economy, then vote no to progress. To think we can attract business here without an educated work force is absurd.

’Tis the season of faith, hope, and charity. It is too bad there wasn’t more charity in November’s election. It mystifies me why people revel in being Dumb and Dumber. All the county referenda were good ideas — more funding for our schools, building codes to make our investment increase in value (to say nothing of the lower insurance rates and bank interest on loans), improvements to the fairgrounds, which could be an economic engine for the county, and better roads.

When a multitude contribute it is easier on everyone. The more widely spread the cost, the less of each of us has to contribute.

We can no longer remain complacent about our corner of the world. We have been discovered. What do we want to put in place to keep our unique lifestyle? Or are we going to wait for uncontrolled growth to direct our future?

Without forward-thinking leaders, changes will come to us in a haphazard fashion. The shriek from mashed toes will echo throughout the county and the hand-wringing will come too late.

Galen Larson writes from rural Montezuma County.

Published in Galen Larson

How did this happen?

How on earth did this happen?

Lots of smart people (and even notso- smart ones, such as myself) saw it coming and spoke out against it. Right from the first – not after it became politically safe and – possibly even more contemptible – expedient to do so.

They were branded unpatriotic, terrorist- loving cretins who actually wanted things to come to this.

They did not, after all, display the proper red-white-and-blue magnets “supporting the troops” on their Hummer-like gas-hogging SUVs, or wear American flag-pins in their lapels, or loudly pledge their allegiance at every public opportunity, or declare how much they wished they were young enough to go over there and waste a few towel-heads, or do any of those obvious things to clearly identify themselves as passionate defenders of the homeland, fair-weather jingoists who were eager to send more naïve and braver folks to their deaths for ends that now become more convoluted with each telling.

Success has a thousand mothers, the old saying goes, while failure is an orphan. But in this case, failure has a thousand fathers, one wag pointed out, with these testosteronal dads running for political cover while pointing fingers at one another:

“The press is to blame” is the most popular refrain from the right, of course, led by such lying luminaries as Donald Rumsfeld. At his farewell Pentagon bash, Rummy went so far as to play down the daily slaughter in Baghdad, telling his admiring audience that to read the newspapers, one would get the impression that the whole county was “aflame” every time a car bomb went off in Baghdad, when in fact from the air you could see that most of the country was still intact. After all, what are 50 to 100 deaths on pretty much a daily basis? (Strange that this attitude wasn’t encouraged after 9/11, assuring American citizens that even though the twin towers had been destroyed and thousands killed, there still were plenty of places in the U.S. that hadn’t been savaged by violence.)

It may be tempting, now that Saddam Hussein has been executed, to look upon his removal as some slim straw of victory – look, at least this evil-doer has paid the ultimate penalty! Now the people of Iraq can breathe free!

But let’s not forget that Saddam was our stooge, our own Frankenstein’s monster, helped and supported by the United States in his early years in power. Some of the ghastly crimes he committed against the Kurds even took place under the indifferent eye of the much-vaunted Reagan administration.

And what has Saddam’s removal from power accomplished, really? The true mastermind behind 9/11 remains alive today, as far as we know, and will probably die of natural causes Meanwhile , uncounted thousands of Iraqi civilians have been killed, crippled and maimed – first by American bombs from on high and then by American bullets from on the ground. (Not to forget those who died after being tortured.)

Thousands (three, so far) of American soldiers have been killed, many thousands more crippled and maimed. (Not to forget those who also were tortured and beheaded.)

Hundreds of billions (three, so far) of dollars have been stolen from our children and grandchildren to finance this Holy War, and it’s not nearly over.

It isn’t as if we didn’t have fair warning about the costs of blundering into a war in a faraway land, a war with nebulous goals and no clear exit strategy. We had that experience just a few decades back, within the lifetimes of most of the neo-cons who successfully pushed their agenda on a cobwebbrained president dimly seeking absolution for avoiding combat in that very same war of futility. (He was just one of many of these war-mongers who avoided risking life and limb, explaining, as Dick Cheney did, that they had “other priorities.”)

We saw everything that happened in Vietnam — the thousands of young soldiers slaughtered, wounded and otherwise traumatized, the countryside poisoned with chemicals, the civilians massacred, the resentment against the United States fueled. We heard the familiar cries of “America – love it or leave it!” and the calls for patriotism above all. We w i t n e s s e d our ultimate loss in that disgraceful war – and yet, too soon, many of us were ready to do it all again. This time we’d get it right, by golly. After all, as our ersatz president said recently, our real mistake in Vietnam was pulling out too soon!

So how did this happen? I guess the answer to that question isn’t as important as the answer to another: Will we let it happen again? Will we learn from the Iraq debacle that supporting our troops does not mean supporting an idiotic war, or will we, in a few more years, rise eagerly again to the beat of the war drums?

Unfortunately, the answer to that critical question may well be “yes” unless we refuse to let revisionist historians and right-wing political cowards fictionalize this latest chapter of American imperialism.

David Grant Long writes from Cortez, Colo.

Published in -January 2007, David Long

Taking off the white gloves

By 1918, the National American Woman Suffrage Association had struggled for 150 years to win the vote.

“They were so polite,” sighs Boulder, Colo., novelist Sybil Downing, whose own grandmother worked for Suffrage. “(They) pleaded and reasoned.”

And they failed. “It was in their methods,” Downing bluntly states.

Women had to change their tactics, if they wanted the power of the ballot. During World War I, they made that switch.

“They were able to pull off the white gloves and play hardball politics,” chuckles Downing, a fourth-generation Coloradan and self-described political junkie who has held state and local offices, continuing a family tradition.

She also grew up with a strong interest in women’s issues. With that background, she decided to write a novel about “what finally made suffrage work.”

“The Vote” was published last October by the University of New Mexico Press. It spans the period between May and December 1918, a crucial time for women’s suffrage.”

American suffragettes became militant in the early 1900s because two graduate students studying in England happened to picket Parliament with British suffragettes. Alice Paul and Lucy Burns went to jail when police arrested this group.

From prison, they watched the suffragettes’ story appear in banner headlines across England. Later, they heard people commenting on the women who would willingly face incarceration for something they desired.

Paul and Burns decided to change the approach to women’s suffrage in the United States. Women would demonstrate and let themselves be arrested. The papers would draw attention to their political needs.

The two took their idea to the head of the National American Woman Suffrage Association, Carrie Chapman Carr. She rebuffed them, still believing that patience and reason would bring suffrage.

Paul and Burns founded their own activist group, the National Woman’s Party. Besides going to jail, the NWP sent workers to states where women could vote, to campaign for senators and representatives who supported universal suffrage.

“Patience is a virtue, but there’s a limit,” Downing laughs.

“The Vote” centers on the women Paul and Burns gathered around them, and the tremendous energy the NWP produced.

As the story opens, Denver socialite and college graduate Kate Brennan is on her way to catch a train home from a visit to an old roommate in Washington, D. C.

From her cab, she sees a women’srights march in front of the White House. The way the police treat the demonstrators horrifies her, and she rushes to aid the marchers.

“A protagonist has to have something at stake,” says Downing. For Kate that’s the prospect of returning to a life of privilege at home. “It’s in the back of her mind that she didn’t want to go back to Colorado, and she was looking for a reason not to go.”

A battle ensues between a jeering male crowd and the suffragettes. “Before she knows it, she’s rounded up and arrested with them.”

As the suffragettes’ leader, Burns demands all the arrestees be treated as political prisoners. The judge laughs, and sends everyone to the Occupation Workhouse, a prison full of roaches, rats, maggoty food, and backbreaking labor.

A 14-day stint in jail galvanizes the sheltered, inexperienced Brennan. She joins the National Woman’s Party, and against the wishes of her parents, especially her mother, begins to work for suffrage.

Along the way, she meets a feisty Irish party worker named Mary, on the lam from an abusive boyfriend. Brennan also meets Charlie, a tough reporter with a soft spot — maybe for her. Through them, she learns about herself, and a life she’s never seen.

“Mary would have been a servant in her mother’s house,” Downing emphasizes. “And Charlie has some kind of government job Kate thinks might jeopardize the National Woman’s Party if she gets serious about him.”

Brennan learns her toughest lesson when she comes home to work against the re-election of a senator who has been a family friend. After a vicious quarrel with her mother, she realizes that in the political game, rights come at a price.

“Many women had to choose between family and suffrage,” says Downing. “That really moved me when I was writing this.”

She carefully planned Brennan’s development toward the decision she finally makes about the two, thinking out how she would behave, the things that would influence her, and her personal likes and dislikes.

In addition, Downing studied Brennan’s times. “Those of us who write historical fiction love the research. You kind of have to slap yourself in the face to stop.”

Downing began by reading scholarly books about suffrage in both Boulder and the Western History Collection of the Denver Public Library.

Then she decided to go to Washington, D.C., to learn more about the National Woman’s Party. She flew into Reagan National Airport on Sept. 13, 2001. “We were like the only tourists in town.”

She had all the libraries, monuments, and offices to herself. “The heads of departments came to help me. How often does that happen?”

“The Vote” ends as suffrage becomes inevitable. Still, Downing believes the suffrage story isn’t over yet.

“For example, 53 percent of the work force are women. Mothers.” she says. “Forty-six percent of those are college educated. They still earn 76 cents to a man’s dollar. There are still a lot of issues facing women that need to be addressed.”

She laughs heartily. “There are plenty of women out there with the energy to (address them.)”

Published in -January 2007

Power-plant debate heats up

Power plants seem to be growing increasingly unpopular.

While debate rages over plans to build a 1,500-megawatt power plant on Navajo Nation land south of Shiprock, N.M., some critics are challenging plans by Tri-State Generation and Transmission, Empire Electric’s energy supplier, to charge higher rates to build three new coalfired plants.

ORION YAZZIE PROTESTS OUTSIDE THE DISTRICT COURTHOUSE IN SHIPROCKTwo would be built in western Kansas and one in southeastern Colorado. Together they would produce 2,100 megawatts.

But a report by Western Resource Advocates, a nonprofit conservation organization, questions the need for the new plants.

“Tri-State does not need the capacity of even one of the coal units contained in the [Resource Development Plan], much less the full 2,100 MW of capacity of all three units, to meet the projected loads of its members at least through 2019,” states the Western Resource Advocates report.

The report predicts that wholesale rates will increase by at least 64 percent over the next five years to pay for the $5 billion project.

Empire Electric customers are already seeing an average increase of 4.47 percent starting this month because of an increase from Tri-State, based on higher costs of energy.

Tri-State has challenged the conclusions in the WRA report, arguing that there is a definite need for all the capacity the new plants would provide.

Jim Van Someren, a spokesman for Tri-State in Denver, e-mailed comments to the Free Press in response to the report.

“Since 2000 the demand for power across Tri-State’s system has grown at an average of 3 percent per year – with indications of even greater growth in the near-term,” the comments said.

“Tri-State’s existing baseload generation resources are fully committed; without the development of new resources, we are increasingly reliant on volatile, high-priced power purchases on the open market, which is driving up rates.”

Increasing usage

Empire Electric has given its approval to Tri-State’s plan for the new plants, according to Doug Sparks, Empire’s member-services director. Empire is one of 44 member co-operatives supplied by Tri-State.

Sparks said Tri-State’s new plants will be needed because of growth in eastern Colorado.

“We here in Montezuma County are not the drivers by any means for these power plants,” he said. “It’s the Front Range.”

The member co-ops govern Tri-State, he explained, and each has an equal vote in making policy. “They have chosen to have a postage-stamp rate for everybody,” he said. “It doesn’t depend on how much money you have. You share equally in the rate hikes.”

He said it all evens out in the end. Rural areas such as Cortez were able to reap the benefits of infrastructure and plants that were built for other users.

“The [power] generation wasn’t built for Cortez, but we were able to take advantage of it,” he said. “Now it’s the other side of the coin.”

Sparks said both population growth and increased per-capita consumption of electricity are driving the need for more power plants.

According to the U.S. Department of Energy, per-capita consumption of electricity in U.S. homes increased by 1,056 kilowatt-hours per person between 1980 and 2001, an average increase of 1.4 percent every year.

Total energy consumption in the United States increased 1 percent per year in that two-decade period.

In Colorado, total energy consumption increased by 1.9 percent annually between 1980 and 2001, while the state’s electricity consumption went up a hefty 3.6 percent per year.

Utah’s energy-consumption increase was similar – 1.9 percent per year, with an average annual increase in electrical usage of 3.8 percent per year, according to the Department of Energy.

But among Empire Electric residential users, consumption has not increased dramatically. Over the past 20 years, per-consumer usage increased only from 603 to 612 kilowatt hours per month, a minuscule annual increase, Sparks said.

“La Plata [Electric] had a big jump in those years, but we don’t really have the trophy homes they do,” he said.

However, Empire added about 4,000 new customers in that time period, Sparks said.

Empire has between 12,000 and 13,000 residential users and roughly another 1,000 commercial users.

Broken promises

While Tri-State plans its new facilities, opposition remains fierce to the $2.5 billion Desert Rock power plant planned on the Navajo reservation.

ALICE GILMORE SPEAKS TO THE PRESS BEFORE A HEARING IN SHIPROCK.Beginning Dec. 12, protesters began holding a vigil against the plant at its planned 600-acre site near Burnham, N.M. Navajo elder Alice Gilmore, who would lose her ancestral lands and grazing area if the plant is built, and supporters camped out in the winter cold to protest preliminary site work being done by people with Sithe Global, the company building the plant, and the Diné Power Authority.

The protest brought some publicity to the opponents’ cause. They have a web site, www.desert-rock-blog.com, and a video on YouTube.com (search under “Desert Rock”).

On Dec. 21, Navajo tribal police disrupted the camp, forcing the partici- pants to move and leading to legal wrangling over protesters’ rights.

On Jan. 3, opponents of Desert Rock gathered by the District Courthouse in Shiprock, N.M., before a scheduled hearing regarding a preliminary injunction that had been sought against the protesters by Sithe.

Speaking in Navajo, with her daughter translating, Gilmore said Diné who had been promised jobs at previous power plants and coal mines had not seen them materialize.

“The environment is being degraded,” Gilmore said. “The elders are a target of this environmental injustice. They’re just protecting the sites. They’re not breaking any rules or regulations. [Navajo President] Joe Shirley is exploiting the elders since they do not speak or write English. Once the land is damaged it can never be returned to what it used to be.”

Henry Dixon, father of Elouise Brown, president of Dooda Desert Rock Committee (“dooda” means no), said, “There is no compassion on the behalf of our own tribal government.” He said the Navajo police are policing the protesters instead of helping to ensure their safety in a tense situation.

Tom Johnston, Gilmore’s son-in-law, said Gilmore still has 47 sheep at the Desert Rock site, along with a little stone house. “Every time we try to go in there, [the police] block us. They say, ‘Only Grandma can go in there’.”

“The land is what gives us life,” said Alberta Dechille, another protester in Shiprock. “It is what is really ours from the beginning.”

But supporters of Desert Rock argue that the plant is badly needed for the jobs and income it would provide the tribe. They say if it isn’t built on reservation land, it will be built somewhere nearby, and the Navajo Nation will lose the income it would have brought but still experience the effects of any pollution. They also say Desert Rock will be one of the cleanest power plants ever.

In the end, there was no hearing Jan. 3 because the parties reached an agreement the previous day, signing a consent decree and stipulated injunction, according to the attorney for the opponents, James Zion.

The injunction, he said in an e-mail, “essentially orders EVERYONE to refrain from interfering with the environmental impact statement (EIS) work being done on site and to obey all criminal laws.

“The agreement is a ‘no fault’ one where no party agrees to the allegations of the complaint or the defenses I asserted,” he wrote. “The order assures that the Dooda Desert Rock Committee and those participating with it can enjoy their rights of freedom of assembly and duties to protect Mother Earth and Father Sky under Navajo Natural Law.”

Instant-on capacity

Fueling the push for more power plants nationwide is increasing electrical consumption, both by residential and commercial users.

Residential consumption is encouraged by the fact that electricity is cheap enough that users don’t really notice a difference in their bill if they leave a light on or a computer running. Electricity flows seemingly by magic; it doesn’t run out, and it’s easy to take it for granted.

Sparks said one local resident who had been using solar energy told him, “If people had to live on solar for one year, we’d set the energy crisis back 40 years.”

“When you’re on solar only, if you use too much electricity it’s all drained out, so it’s a different ball game,” Sparks explained. “He spent a lot of time looking for appliances that don’t have those LED displays, that juice running in the background.”

That’s another reason electrical consumption is going up – everything from stoves and microwaves to cordless phones to DVD players and bedside radios now uses electricity even when “off.” Similarly, televisions use juice constantly to provide “instant-on” capacity.

Sparks said studies he’s read show that this “leaking electricity,” the background power used just to keep things humming, is equivalent to “17 full-blown power plants running 24/7 in the U.S.”

“Individually this may not mean a hill of beans to your electric bill, but it adds up,” he said. “That’s the toughest concept for me to sell to people.”

Empire Electric is pushing the use of energy-saving compact fluorescent light bulbs, he said. “You put one in and it might be inconvenient [because fluorescents can be slower to turn on], but if everyone did it, that in itself could eliminate the need for one coalfired power plant in the U.S.,” he said.

“Get everybody to conserve a little and you could make a change. That’s what we’re trying to push as a co-op. We’re not saying to live your life austerely, but just take away some of that excess. Why do you need three TVs in your house, all plugged in? That represents a load that’s constantly turning that meter. And appliance manufacturers – that’s one of my biggest complaints. We’re talking about energy efficiency and these guys are designing all these whizmo-gizmos for every appliance.”

But Sparks said Empire Electric supports Tri-State’s plan to build the new plants because the need is there. “Their base load is in the margins area. It’s getting dicey,” he said. “They don’t have a lot of wiggle room.”

Tri-State is especially concerned about its peak capacity, he said – the amount needed to handle surging demand at special times.

“The worst-case example, the worst day a year, is Super Bowl Sunday at halftime,” Sparks said. “That’s the peak for all utilities. People all run and flush their toilets at once. Sewer companies have blown lids off manholes from the Super Bowl flush.”

Tri-State now has to buy power off the grid to handle such peaks, Sparks said. He said after Tri-State builds the new plants it will have an excess supply of energy for a while, but it can sell the excess to other companies.

Much of the demand for electricity is coming from commercial rather than residential uses. A huge increase in demand in the San Juan Basin is projected, largely because of increased oil- and gas-drilling that requires electricity.

And Western Resource Advocates says much of Tri- State’s supposed need for more electricity is based upon projected oil-shale development in western Colorado and a US Biogen ethanol plant planned for Morgan County, Colo.

Tri-State in its comments acknowledged that 58 percent of its load growth in the last five years has been in “high load factor commercial/industrial loads” rather than residential.

Still, in the end it boils down to people’s demand for energy, a demand that can’t be entirely met by renewables such as wind and solar because of their intermittent nature, Sparks said.

“You have to talk about individuals,” Sparks said. “It’s all of us together. By changing to CFLs, if enough of us do it, we could summarily stop a power plant from being built. That’s what people need to understand. If we’re demanding it, it has to be built.”

Wendy Mimiaga contributed to this report.

Published in -January 2007

Out of tune with community needs?

People traveling along Highway 184, slipping past Summit Lake on their way from Dolores to Mancos, probably aren’t turning the radio dial in the car to check in for local traffic updates.

But when searching the airwaves, this Four Corners community is finding that some of the options on the radio dial provide a distinctive local flavor and are broadcast from their own backyard.

A quick tap on the “seek” button has the radio stopping often for stations broadcast out of Farmington, N.M., and Durango, but six of the listener’s choices do originate in Montezuma County. However, only one of those six is actually locally owned.

The expansion of radio to rural areas traces back to President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal programs that were intended to assist in the country’s recovery from the Great Depression.

Like a museum artifact, a fading 1955 FCC construction permit hangs in a frame above a door in the Cortez offices of American General Media (AGM), the current owner of three Cortez broadcast licenses: KVFC/740 AM, KRTZ/98.7 FM, and KISZ/97.9 FM. Winton Road Broadcasting, Co., LLC, based in Bakersfield, Calif., hold the licenses for these stations.

Winton Road Broadcasting is a part of AGM, which is also based in Bakersfield.

Radio owners sometimes have unique company names for different parts of the country.

“Radio stations tend to subdivide to wiggle around FCC broadcasting rules,” said Kelly Turner, newly promoted operations and station manager for the AGM stations in Cortez. Jack Hawkins’ name is on the 51- year-old permit that started KVFC as a locally owned radio station. But Turner thinks local ownership of radio stations is headed toward extinction.

“I think the days of mom-and-pop-owned stations are a distant memory,” Turner said.

Media consolidation

Although the political right is often criticized for its attack on Rooseveltbased programs and its fostering of media consolidation, the major blow to local ownership of rural media came during the Clinton years.

President Clinton signed the Telecommunications Act of 1996, which loosened the strict limits the Federal Communications Commission then had in place on how many media outlets one company could own.

At that time, the largest radio company, Clear Channel Comm u n i c a t i o n s , owned 62 stations, with its closest competitor owning 53.

By March 2003, Clear Channel had emerged as a radio giant, taking control of 1,233 stations nationally. The impact of the 1996 legislation has been studied by the FCC in recent years. Former FCC Chairman Michael Powell established a Localism Task Force and called for a study of the effects the policies had on the FCC’s goal of encouraging localism, a requirement for media outlets to serve the “needs and interests of the communities to which they are licensed.”

The results of the 2004 draft study showed a reality that was not in alignment with the FCC leadership’s unwritten vision for localism.

Under Powell’s direction, the FCC took positions that were favorable to media consolidation and even tried to further soften ownership rules in 2003.

The 2004 report was suppressed by FCC senior managers until Sen. Barbara Boxer (D-Calif.) received a leaked copy from former FCC lawyer Adam Candeub in 2006. Boxer subsequently pressured current FCC Chairman Kevin Martin to make the report public.

A 2003 FCC Media Bureau study, “Review of the Radio Industry,” was also released under pressure from Boxer. The report showed that in areas like Cortez — rural stations that are not in a designated radio market — the changes to media ownership laws have had major impacts on local ownership.

While the number of stations available to listeners locally held relatively steady, during the seven-year period from 1996 to 2003 the number of different owners for radio stations not in a market decreased by 41 percent.

No stockholders

The relaxing of ownership rules has moved much of the control of rural radio stations outside of the local area. Of the six full-power stations currently licensed to cities in Montezuma County, only one is under local ownership.

KSJD/91.5 FM, a non-commercial educational radio station first licensed in 1988 under the direction of Tony Valdez, broadcasts from a modular building tucked into the piñon and juniper trees on the campus of the San Juan Basin Technical College east of Cortez. The station is managed by the Community Radio Project, a 501(c)(3) non-profit licensed to the college.

KSJD is now the only locally owned and operated, full-power radio station in the Montelores area. But its existence has been precarious at times, and its success has come as the result of an enormous effort by citizen volunteers.

Until 2003, KSJD operated as a training and educational facility for students at the technical college. But media consolidation reduced the demand for programmers (trained by the college and elsewhere) and at the same time the state legislature made cuts to education, forcing the college to close the radio station.

In April 2003, community leaders organized a meeting to try to save KSJD and turn it into a community radio station. More than 100 citizens attended, and an organization called the Community Radio Project was formed.

Subsequently, KSUT Public Radio in Ignacio and San Juan Basin Technical College signed an agreement under which management of KSJD was taken over by KSUT while the license was still owned by SJBTC. This agreement secured KSUT’s signal in Montezuma County and allowed the college to keep its license.

Finally, on July 1, 2006, the Community Radio Project took over management of KSJD, assuring its independence from KSUT.

KSJD operates under a communityradio model that relies primarily on volunteers for operations. From April 2003 to June 2006, volunteers donated 15,000 hours to the station, according to Jeff Pope, its executive director.

The station has a strongly local flavor that is largely absent from most commercial stations.

“Community radio is locally owned, and the national trends are in the opposite direction because of a consolidation of media ownership,” said Pope, one of the station’s two paid employees.

Underwriting, listener-funded support and grants generate KSJD’s operating revenue. “Contrary to popular belief, public radio is not funded by the federal government,” Pope said.

A wide variety of live, local programming is supported on KSJD by more than 50 volunteers serving on committees and performing as disc jockeys. Pope says being locally controlled allows the station to be nimble when trying to fill the needs of the community.

“We don’t have to pay stockholders,” Pope said. “The dividends are what we provide to our listeners.”

‘Local as possible’

Commercial radio, of course, has a different bottom line. But although corporate ownership has been able to climb over the San Juan Mountains, many of the negative impacts that media-consolidation critics fear have not materialized in Montezuma County’s stations.

For instance, KRTZ does not have a corporately mandated play list of music for its adult-contemporary rock format, and the station is able to produce local news broadcasts from behind the sliding glass doors of its studio.

“We have a fair amount of autonomy,” Turner said.

Beyond American General Media’s corporate interests, KRTZ has two primary communities it is responsible for serving, the Ute Mountain Ute tribe and the Cortez community.

The KRTZ FM transmitter sits on Ute Mountain Ute land, and, as a result, the station has a contract which requires it to provide public programming that focuses on the tribe. Tribal member Norman Lopez hosts a Ute language program on Sunday mornings from 9 to 10.

Turner says 85 percent of the station’s local service to Cortez comes in the form of public service announcements for community organizations. The station also partners with the United Way and broadcasts Montezuma-Cortez High School sports. Turner received a 2005 “Voice of Democracy” award for working with the local Veterans of Foreign Wars associations.

“We try to keep it as local as possible,” said Turner, who was one of the last students to complete a since-discontinued broadcast communications program at San Juan College in Farmington, N.M. “Ultimately this is the community we are accountable to.”

A non-profit, Christian radio station licensed to Dolores, KTCF/89.5 FM, does not have a phone number or office in Dolores. The station works under the name of Power and Light Radio, and they are licensed to Educational Communications of Colorado Springs, Inc.

A relatively new addition to the area’s radio community is KKDC/93.3, a station owned by Durango-based Four Corners Broadcasting, LLC. Ray McDonnell, station manager, says his station is allowed some independence as well.

As long as the advertising sales are meeting their mark, McDonnell said, he is able to mold the programming on the 2-year-old station to reflect c o m m u n i t y needs. “The great thing is, FCB granted me a great wish.”

McDonnell, who was raised in Dolores, has enjoyed making the local schools and students a focus of much of his programming. KKDC, primarily a rock station, broadcasts Dolores football and basketball games, has conducted live remotes from pep rallies and partnered with the Montezuma County Health Department for a broadcast during the Great American Smokeout.

“I’m open to anything,” McDonnell said, “if it’s something the community will enjoy over the airwaves.”

P.A. Jackson, another graduate of Dolores High School, hosts “The Drive Home” on Thursday and Friday evenings for KKDC, which is commonly referred to as “D’Crow.” Jackson said he enjoys the localized nature of their station, and he said that it is quite a contrast from the Clear Channel-owned station where he did a job shadow during high school.

“There wasn’t anything personal about what they were doing,” he said.

In order to keep their licensing for use of the public airwaves, all stations have to annually prove they are responding to the needs of their community.

The 2004 FCC radio study, “Do Local Owners Deliver More Localism?” concluded that an increase in localism is indeed beneficial to the public.

The study focused on the production of locally oriented news stories.

According to the report, when a station is locally owned, the amount of local stories in a 30-minute news broadcast increases by an average of 5 1/2 minutes over what is offered by a non-locally-owned station. Local onlocation news broadcasts will increase by over 3 minutes, the study found.

In contrast, owners of multiple stations tend to consolidate newsrooms in cost-saving measures, leading to an increase in the broadcast of non-local information. But covering local news takes time, staff, and money, and not all stations are willing to commit the resources needed to do the job. Pope said he would like to offer regular local news on KSJD, but it is an important and expensive decision.

“The need for news-oriented programming in small communities is high,” Pope said. “But news is an expensive luxury when you operate on a lean, mean budget, and it is hard to choose that over keeping the lights on.”

KSJD has been able to produce an agricultural report and a twice-monthly talk news program and partnered with the League of Women Voters for a candidate forum before the 2006 elections. At KRTZ, five local news broadcasts are spaced throughout the day. Turner said his staff is spread thin and has to rely on the Internet, newspapers and press releases for much of the news they read. If given the opportunity to change KRTZ programming, Turner said he would add a full-time news director.

“News is what separates KRTZ from the soft-hits channel on satellite radio or the music on a person’s iPod,” he said. Studies have linked the availability of local news for rural radio audiences with an increased ability to attract government attention and aid.

According to David Stromberg in his study, “Radio’s Impact on Public Spending,” radio’s ability to inform voters led to a 50-percent increase in federal funds allocated to a rural county.

But Turner says finding advertising support for sporting events is much easier than it is for news slots. “I think the challenge is selling the importance of news to the advertiser.”

KKDC is able to do news, public service announcements and a community calendar at the beginning of each hour during the weekday morning show broadcast from its Dolores studio. The community service in these segments has a unique local twist.

Listeners have even called in to report lost dogs. “You couldn’t do that in a big town,” Jackson said.

Accurately measuring the effectiveness of localism seems to be a challenge for the FCC, but McDonnell, a Cortez resident, said he is always impressed with the number of people who tell him they are listening to KKDC.

McDonnell said he was struck by this during the recent birth of his and his wife’s second child.

“It was really cool,” he said. “When we were giving birth in the O.R., they were playing d’Crow.

Published in -January 2007

Will a much-touted project to revamp the Four Corners end up as a monumental failure?

Four tattered and sun-bleached state flags flap in a crisp breeze that stirs up an occasional dust devil. A wide arc of plywood vendor stalls stand mostly empty, but people at one or two are hawking jewelry, pottery, T-shirts and of course, fry bread.

PORTA-POTTIES AT FOUR CORNERS MONUMENTA stark, bare-walled visitors center overheated by an ancient propane furnace is unattended, its only literature contained in a small lucite rack provided by a Montezuma County tourist group. The circular stone wall of a viewing area looking east toward the Sleeping Ute Mountain is in disrepair, with parts of the wall cracked and missing.

In the center of this setting — just off U.S. Highway 160 not far from the San Juan River — is a granite disc embedded with a bronze cross, marking the intersection of Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Utah.

There is no running water anywhere, and three smelly Porta-Potties are the only means of answering Nature’s calls.

This is the Four Corners Monument, more than three years after a $4.25 million project to improve the tourist attraction’s “appalling conditions” was announced with considerable fanfare, and two years after a groundbreaking ceremony was held at the monument to construct an interpretive center, restrooms with running water, attractive vendor booths and landscaping around the central plaza.

FOUR CORNERS MONUMENT VISITORS' CENTERMired in conflicts between two sovereign Indian nations, the project, it now appears, may never be completed.

Dividing revenues

The monument lies completely on reservation lands and is owned jointly by the Navajo Nation and the Ute Mountain Ute tribe, with the Colorado section Ute territory and the other three portions belonging to the Navajos.

In 1999 Congress awarded a $2.25 million federal grant jointly to the tribes to refurbish the tacky roadside attraction and build an interpretive center to educate visitors about Native American culture. The federal grant was contingent on each of the four states providing $500,000 in matching funds. The Four Corners Heritage Council was put in charge of dispensing the federal funds and making sure the conditions of the grant were met otherwise.

Arizona, Utah, and New Mexico came up with their shares relatively promptly, but it took until August 2003 for Colorado to agree to provide $200,000 through its Department of Local Affairs. The Ute Mountain Ute tribe promised to supply the remainder for that state’s share.

Then-DOLA director Mike Beasley announced the agreement during a meeting with Ute tribal officials in Towaoc, Colo., just days before the deadline for the federal funds would have passed.

During the intervening three-plus years, however, nothing has changed at the monument, no improvements have been made, and the original joint operating agreement between the two tribes has been scrapped.

“The condition now is that there is no agreement between the two tribes,” said Cleal Bradford, executive director of the Four Corners Heritage Council, even though “the federal money did come, it was available for use, and we had the full ($2 million) match.”

One major roadblock is how future revenues from the attraction would be divided between the tribes.

“Two years ago we did hold a groundbreaking down there,” Bradford told the Free Press by phone from Utah. “We had an agreement in place and were intending to have the project bid out as soon as we could finalize some of the engineering items. What happened thereafter was the Navajo Nation decided they wanted to change the mix a little bit [and] kept holding up the agreement.”

Essentially, Bradford said, the Navajo Nation wanted a bigger share of the revenues, since threequarters of the monument is on Navajo territory.

“The [financial] agreement was kind of a 50-50 relationship,” Bradford explained, “and I guess there must have been some of the leadership of the Navajo change, and they felt like they were being short-changed a little bit on that arrangement.

“Now the condition was that if the operation broke even or lost money, it was still 50-50 [and] if it made a little money it was 50-50, and I guess they got thinking it was going to be a money-maker.”

Other reported bones of contention are which tribe would build the project — the Utes’ Weeminuche Construction Authority or the Navajo Construction Authority — and an old dispute over the exact boundaries of the reservation lands involved.

According to Montezuma County Assessor Mark Vanderpool, another member of the Heritage Council board of directors, the legal descriptions of the boundaries of four states and the tribal lands differ, with the Navajo Nation claiming its land extends more than 300 feet north into the Ute part of the monument. The U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the current location is correct, but the Navajo Nation contends that it is not bound by another sovereign nation’s ruling anyway.

Everyone loses?

“It’s like getting the Palestinians and the Israelis to sit down and talk,” said Vanderpool.

“It seems to me to be that difficult — we’ll have a meeting and have representation from one tribe or the other, but very rarely, if ever, do they both show.

“I fear that it’s going to be ‘everyone loses’.”

Frances Redhouse, tribal council member for the Navajos’ Teec Nos Pos, Ariz., chapter, which includes the monument area, was contacted twice by the Free Press but declined to comment.

Repeated attempts were also made to contact several officials with the tribes, including Ute Mountain Ute Chairman Manuel Heart, Ute Mountain Planning Director Troy Ralstin, Navajo Deputy Director of Parks and Recreation Martin Begay, and the communications director for Navajo President Joe Shirley Jr., George Hardeen. None responded to phone messages except Hardeen, who said he knew nothing about the situation.

‘Very underwhelming’

No reliable information on the number of annual visitors to the monument is available, but it is widely publicized by area tourist groups as a stop on suggested day trips and in the summer, at least, the site sees a steady stream of tourists.

At present, their $3-per-person entrance fee gets them only the chance to buy various wares and to have their photo taken with a limb in each state, an impulse that seems to be powerful and universal.

“Quite frankly, the Four Corners Monument, as it now exists, is very underwhelming,” commented Vanderpool. Whether conditions will ever change remains highly uncertain. The promised funding is starting to evaporate because of the lack of progress on the original ambitious plan. New Mexico and Utah have both taken back their funding.

“When the Navajos reneged on the agreement, Utah asked for their money back,” Bradford said. “They just figured the project was dead at that point.” Little tourism benefit would be derived by Utah anyway from the revamped monument, he pointed out, since there is no direct access from that state.

“New Mexico’s commitment was for $500,000, but that elapsed as well,” he said, “but the Navajo Nation is working with New Mexico to try to get them to re-commit,” and the state legislature is going to take up the matter this session.

“We’ve resurrected these other ideas since to try to have each of the tribes do something within their own tribal boundaries,” Bradford added.

Bradford said Colorado’s funding is now up in the air.

“We’ve got another five months before the Colorado money goes, and if something hasn’t happened before that, I don’t expect to see Colorado extend theirs again.

“If we can’t get something pulled together in the next two or three months, probably the federal dollars will be lost too,” he said.

If that happens, it would be a shame, Bradford said.

“For the past 12 years there’s been this enormous amount of energy and time by a variety of people — money spent, miles travelled — it would be a tragedy if this thing came to naught.”

Having patience

The delays and disagreements seem to justify the potition of former State Rep. Mark Larson (R-Cortez), who had opposed the state funding on the grounds that the monument mainly benefits the tribes. Larson also argued that since the Utes pay no state sales tax on goods sold on the reservation — other than fuel tax — the tribe should contribute all of the Colorado share.

“The [Ute] tribe is a sovereign nation that is routinely touting that sovereignty when the state or local government wants cooperation on mutually beneficial issues or attempts told the tribal government accountable,” Larson wrote to Gov. Bill Owens in a lastditch appeal to withhold the DOLA funding at the time.

In a January e-mail to the Free Press, Larson suggested it is now time for the states to call in its markers.

“ . . . The bottom line is that they have not fulfilled their promises and the states should be looking at getting their money back,” Larson said.

“The on-going battle between the tribes over who should control, etc., has not been resolved to date. I think that they should go back to the beginning and start over. The issues should be hammered out PRIOR to securing funding. It seems disingenuous to secure funding and then never start construction because of bickering,” Larson wrote.

The deadline for Colorado’s DOLA funds was to have expired at the end of October 2006.

Cortez City Manager Hal Shepherd attempted to find out what was happening from Ute chairman Heart, but did not get a reply until the last minute.

“ … if the Navajo and Ute Mountain Ute tribes cannot come to an agreement by Oct. 31, the grant monies will expire,” Shepherd wrote on Oct. 24, noting that he’d left a message for Heart “a couple weeks ago” and had heard nothing.

Only on Oct. 29, two days before the Colorado money was to dry up, did Heart reply to Shepherd’s repeated attempts to contact him.

In a letter to Shepherd, Heart said the Ute Mountain Utes are “completely committed to the development of the Four Corners Monument.”

“Unfortunately, the Navajo Nation has conditioned any agreement between the Tribes for development at the monument on the [Ute] Tribe agreeing that Navajo Nation lands extend into the state of Colorado,” he said. “The Ute tribe simply cannot agree to this requirement of the Navajo Nation.”

Heart wrote that an agreement was hammered out between him and Bradford under which the interpretive center would be built on Ute land and the restrooms on Navajo land under separate agreements with the Heritage Council.

“Too many people have worked too hard, for too long, to see this project fail,” Heart wrote.

Ken Charles, DOLA director for Region 9, is more optimistic than many of the other players about the future of the monument. He said the Colorado money will remain committed for the foreseeable future as long as the possibility of improving the monument exists.

STATE FLAGS FLYING OVER FOUR CORNERS MONUMENT“We’re really flexible and if there’s a good reason to extend it [beyond the end of 2007] we probably would,” Charles said. “Our experience has been that if we have patience with projects they eventually do get done.”

Separate projects

There would be a major advantage in doing separate projects, Bradford said.

“If the Ute Mountain tribe proceeds with the interpretive center, we could match whatever portion they were able to come up with,” regardless of what the Navajo Nation might do on its part of the monument, he said. “It would appear that that might move forward.

“I’ve had discussions with the Navajos about what they might want to do, and they’re still more discussion than decision, but the Ute Mountain [tribe] has actually committed — we have a letter from them saying they would like to proceed with the interpretive facility in Colorado.”

Under the now-defunct original plan, the visitors center would have straddled the Colorado/New Mexico border.

Bradford said that under the terms of the federal grant, an agreement between the tribes for a joint project is not necessarily required, but what is mandatory is that “one tribe supports what the other tribe is doing.”

“So it wouldn’t be a joint operation — it would be a letter from the Navajos saying they support what the Utes are doing.”

‘It’s just nuts’

Vanderpool said the advantages of improving the monument would be many, but expressed doubt that any will be forthcoming with the current atmosphere between the tribes.

“One of my first meetings was to go to the ground-breaking ceremony that was held down at the monument,” Vanderpool recalled. “At that point in time the money was in the bank and everyone thought this was going to happen expeditiously.

“Well, here we are two-plus years later and I think we’re further away now from anything happening than we were then. It seems like they just don’t want to sit down and work it out.”

He said when the possibility of each tribe doing its own project was suggested, with the Utes building the interpretive center and the Navajos the restrooms, Heart embracred the idea, but the Navajos responded by threatening to block access, since the current entrance road to the monument lies entirely on Navajo land. Then the Utes suggested the possibility of building their own road.

“I recall a brief discussion about the Utes building a new road across their land,” Vanderpool said, “and that’s when the Navajos said, ‘We would do anything we can to block access.’

“It’s just nuts.

“So this thing just goes on and on and on, with both sovereign nations shooting each other in the foot, quite frankly.

“It’s very frustrating.” Vanderpool stressed that his remarks were in no way intended to “dampen any entity’s enthusiasm for doing something down there.”

Still, he is fed up with the posturing and shenanigans that have been stalling the project.

“The more you stir it, the more it stinks,” he said.

He said the Heritage Council and Bradford in particular deserve credit for the efforts still being made.

“Our guiding light has been to try to hold this thing together, and it’s been one disappointment after another and one new plan after another, trying to get the players — mainly the tribes — to work together.

“And here we sit in 2007, and I wish I could say we were closer,” Vanderpool said. “Maybe I’m a cynic, but I just fear the facts are that there are still hurdles to jump.

“I’ve never been involved in a more frustrating exercise,” Vanderpool said, “but the bottom line is if we could do something down there and create a nice facility with the heritage center, eats, nice restrooms, it would be so beneficial to both tribes, to surrounding communities and to the tourists themselves — it would actually turn it into an attractive destination.”

But if that is not possible, it may be time for the money to be returned to its original sources, he said.

“There’s a significant part of me that feels that if these players can’t agree to agree for everyone’s mutual benefit here locally, I’m sure these monies could be better spent elsewhere.

Published in -January 2007

Gift-giving

It’s that time of the year again — time to exchange gifts that no one has any interest in whatsoever.

Our season begins in November with my husband, Tom’s, birthday. Last night, he opened his father’s gift only to have the children swoop in like vultures scooping up all the trinkets. And trinkets they were: a mini tool kit and a “four-dimensional wolf puzzle” (what exactly is four-dimensional?). There was also a DVD about hiking the Appalachian Trail. Ninety excruciating minutes of a man trudging through the woods with a heavy backpack. Step by exhilarating step.

Thing is, Tom’s dad tries. He aspires to find stuff that we’re interested in, but our world is as foreign to him as Mars is to us, so he tends to miss the mark.

Each birthday, each holiday, we find ourselves in the same quandary: what to get for the people we’re obligated to get something for, yet really don’t know very well so have no idea of what they would really want.

You must remember the dreaded package from the weird uncle who lived halfway around the world. Before you opened it, you knew that it would be something wholly unrelated to your life and you would have to spend time writing an artificially appreciative thank-you note for it.

I’d like to be the cool aunt that always gets it right, but. . .

Not off to a rip-roaring start. I already am the bad-mother-gift-buyer for my kids’ friends’ birthdays. Years ago, we attended a little girls’ party. This put me totally out of my shopping realm since at the time, I only knew trucks and trains. Refusing to buy into the pink plastic Wal-Mart thing, I searched high and low for something “appropriate.” Finally, I came up with a paint-it-yourself birdhouse. The girl took one look and tossed it aside. She wanted pink plastic.

Oh, the humiliation of being the kid who gives the loser present.

Yesterday, my boys went to another birthday party (years later, same scene). The host received cars, dirtbike accoutrements and a book. Guess which present I bought?

Soon, my boys will refuse to let me shop for their friends.

But I’m still in charge of holidays for family. Here we are, coming up on buying for nieces and nephews that live on the East Coast whom I’ve only met once (eight years ago). I also have a niece and nephew in California who play golf. They’re all older than my kids, creating yet another shopper’s handicap. Working at a high school gives me no guidance with the teenaged cousins; chances are the kids at the alternative school in Montezuma County are into different things than East Coast prep kids.

So, at a total loss, I try to be creative. Over the years we’ve done books, we’ve done gift certificates from bigbox chain stores accessible to anyone anywhere in the country that I loathe supporting. I have sent jewelry from the Southwest and fossils. Clothes are a nono for so many reasons. Have you ever heard an 8-year-old squeal with delight, “Look, Aunt Suz sent me new socks!”?

Admirably, there are the gifts that keep on giving; cows, llamas, chickens for people living in remote villages in countries no one can locate on a map. Adults like these; I love knowing that there is a cow in Namibia named Suzanne. But again, think of the 8-yearold: “Oh, Mommy, Aunt Suz gave some other kid a cow!”

Fortunately, there are relatives and friends we do know well, who are easy to accommodate and who make the entire gift-giving experience fun. Tom’s sister’s girls are a breeze – they camp, hike, get dirty and read books. Plus, they’re the same ages as my boys. I enjoy birthdays and Christmas for them. I also love to do special things for our best friends, Asa and Simon. I know how to avoid what will make their eyes roll. Usually anything I do for my boys works for them. This balances out the horror of buying for the unknown relatives.

I would love to live in a commercial-free world that puts no significance on giving and getting. But, I don’t. And we’re talking children here. I could skip the presents and just start a therapy fund to help with their pain from being neglected by their aunt.

So, here I am, geared up to spend the bulk of my November paycheck on items that will be thrown aside, forgotten. I will stress out (needlessly) about what to buy for the 19-year-old college girl or the golf player in sunny California. I will refuse to compromise my values, and insist on supporting local businesses, so they will all end up with T-shirts that say “Mancos – Where the West Still Lives” that no one who lives outside of the Four Corners would ever slip over their heads.

I will wrap and box these various sundries and groan at the cost of shipping under-appreciated items across the country. Then I myself will grimace as I receive thank-yous from the children who don’t even know me, those who whined and moaned over the obligation of writing these notes. I will watch my children open their gifts from the parents of these children, who I know have suffered the same stresses that I have, who will also grimace when they receive Everett’s and Bowen’s thank-you’s.

Tom and I will complain about the whole gift obligation thing, the commercialism of the holidays and the pain of being too poor to visit these relatives so that we actually get to know them. We will say that next time will be different, that we have time to come up with better gift ideas. We will wonder if Meagan and Justin are old enough to receive a llama certificate.

Then the next birthday will come around and if I remember it, which is a 50/50 thing in and of itself, I will be late, rushed, with all of my good intentions flying straight out the window in the face of last-minute shopping.

Nothing like a gift that you hate from the weird aunt in Colorado – late.

Suzanne Strazza writes from Mancos.

Published in Suzanne Strazza

Insuring domestic tranquility

I’m feeling less and less tranquil these days despite our Constitution’s long-standing guarantee, and it’s not because of terror alerts or eco-radicals, gun-toting immigration militias or even government employees who work part-time as pimps. No, the people who make me really nervous are the ones who supposedly manage my insurance.

Naturally, we have to be prepared for any kind of fanaticism to strike at the heart of America, but the coldblooded threat of the calculated actuary table is the kind of terrorism that gives me the shivers. You see, despite the Infomercials promoting a century of reliable and dedicated concern for the health and welfare of their customers, the bottom line for insurance companies stands solid as that old rock: Profit. Plain and simple: they sell fear and they make their money the old-fashioned way, like parasites.

I know that insurance in America is a sacred cow, that the business end of each corporation snuggles up to Congress and together they breed laws, insurance laws designed to create an illusion of safety while minimizing the company’s financial risk. If, for example, the law requires all motorists to purchase vehicle insurance, why does uninsured motorist coverage even exist? Paying to be insured and then paying once more in case the car that hits me is uninsured makes about as much sense as requiring insurance companies to pay me a monthly premium – let’s call it diminished account policy – just in case there’s not enough money in the bank to cover the checks I write.

They call it a premium, but I know it’s just a bill, a steadily increasing price tag for a consistently diminished service. There’s no place where the decline of services is so obvious as in the health-insurance industry. My simple once-upon-a-time family physician metamorphosed into the hulk called an HMO with approved health providers, which transmogrified into a $15 co-pay per visit, which resurrected itself as a PPO with a $25 copay, which recently escalated into today’s $35 tithing to the Church of Calculated Risk. I pay the co-pay (notice how the word “pay” appears twice in that part of the sentence) not just to see the doctor, but also to receive prescriptions, and worse, now I’m charged a co-pay at the medical lab, an office where I’ve never set a physical foot in the door but only the rumor of me gets passed around by medical professionals.

If co-pay was the only consumer- gouging strategy healthinsurance corporations could muster, I’d still be mad, but not quite so disillusioned with the motives behind those organizations that claim to be interested in my health. Too many highly paid numbercrunching boardroom accountants invent other profiteering schemes, like increasing premiums every quarter, reducing coverage on more expensive drugs, refusing to pay surgeons who assist in procedures, increasing customer deductibles, and even coding operations so that insurance personnel thousands of miles away from my illness may become experts in diagnosing my motives for undergoing surgery, as if anesthesia were a drug of choice.

I pay premium dollars for health insurance, vision insurance, dental insurance, car insurance, scooter insurance, house insurance, and life insurance. I’m even encouraged to insure the appliances I buy with extended warranties.

I could sign up for supplemental medical coverage, a funeral plan, and retain a lawyer just in case I get cancelled by making a claim against one of my insurance providers. Of course, something unexpected will always happen. I will die, but thanks to America’s insurance industry at least I won’t – as the Bible warns – be bloated with wealth and the size of a camel trying to fit through the eye of a needle, which supposedly serves as the turnstile into heaven.

David Feela is a teacher at Montezuma-Cortez High School.

Published in David Feela

A poet’s journey

 

SHERWIN BITSUISherwin Bitsui is the first Navajo to win the Whiting Writers’ Award for his poetry.

The award, announced Oct. 25, came at a time when Bitsui´s spirits were at their lowest, as he mourned the mysterious accidental loss of his 19-year-old cousin, a close family member, on the Navajo Reservation.

“I called a number left on my answering machine the morning of the funeral with an ache in my heart that I could not dream away, and was given the wonderful news,” Bitsui said. The Whiting Writers’ Award is given annually to 10 promising writers. Candidates are nominated from across the country; winners are chosen by a group of recognized writers, literary scholars, and editors.

When you win the Whiting award you not only get the prestige, but they give you money, too: $40,000, and they fly you out to New York City, where people dress differently, talk differently, and have different views of the world. The world Bitsui comes from most of them cannot imagine — not in their wildest dreams.

To reach Bitsui’s homeland, you drop south out of Cortez, Colo., take Highway 160 west to Mexican Water, then head south again down Highway 191 toward Ganado, Ariz.

It´s a country of colors both dramatic and subtle: browns, Colorado (a deep red like the river) sandstone, the blue-greens and yellows of rabbitbrush and sage. Like fine art they leap from the page.

At other times the wind blows the dry sand in great waves across the whole vast country and Navajo herdsmen cover their faces with bandanas, and the eyes of their horses, too. It´s a land of sharp contrasts: brutal and beautiful.

It´s a country a musician friend of mine would refer to as “roots, baby.” And it is.

Bitsui first came to know this land 31 years ago — he was born here, in a place west of Ganado called White Cone, Ariz., so thinly populated it doesn´t have a post office. People go to Bidahochi to get their mail.

Bitsui is of the Bitter Water people, born for the Many Goats clan.

“Sherwin should publish his work,” noted poet Arthur Sze said from his office at the Institute of American Indian Arts (IAIA) in Santa Fe. That was eight years ago.

Bitsui´s first book of poetry, “Shapeshift” (University of Arizona Press) came out in 2004, announced before a live audience at “Fandango in Bluff,” a poetry festival in Utah. I talked to him by telephone from where I was traveling in Huehuetenango, Guatemala. I asked him how he came to poetry.

“I didn´t discover poetry,” he said. “It found me.”

Inspired by the early Beat poets Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac, Bitsui began experimenting. He was accepted into the program at IAIA and began to study under Sze and Jon Davis.

“I was influenced by Native American poets Joy Harjo (Muscogee/Creek) and Sherman Alexie (Spokane) during my early years at IAIA,” Bitsui said. “I was moved by the fact that they spoke with deep and profound voices, in a language which was extraordinary.

“Their influence on me was just incredible,” he continued. “That, and my fellow students. We were all learning, trying anything, everything. We were very alive at IAIA. It was a very nurturing experience, and that´s where my first, and some of my best, poetry came from.”

“Shapeshift” has been widely celebrated. It is now in its third printing. It is because of “Shapeshift” that Bitsui won the Whiting Award, which is given to promising writers early in their careers who possess exceptional talent and promise.

The Mrs. Giles Whiting Foundation, which gave 10 such awards this year, has been giving the award since 1985.

“I´m interested in a poem that keeps me in the presence of poetry,” Bitsui said. “Recently I´ve been reading Thyemba Jess´s [a co-recipient of the 2006 Whiting Award] book of poems entitled ‘Leadbelly.’ I´ve also returned again and again to Arthur Sze´s book ‘Archipelago.’ It generates countless new imaginings for me each time I read it.”

While still a student at IAIA, Bitsui was given an opportunity to work with Navajo reservation kids in schools, through Nizhoni Bridges’ InReach Project, and later through Arts Reach in Tucson, Ariz. Bitsui has worked with schoolchildren in Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona, most prominently in Arizona and Utah.

“Working with kids has had a big influence on my work,” Bitsui said. “They are so timid, some of them, but then they begin to write, and in just a week their thoughts start to emerge and we see some really amazing poetry.

“Sometimes the children and young adults that I work with through Nizhoni Bridges and Arts Reach Poets in the Schools programs, write great pieces that could compete with any of the poems published by professional poets.”

It´s been a long road for Bitsui. I´ve seen him show up in Bluff, Utah, for a residency or a reading without enough money to buy food, or gas for his car. But he showed up and he was on time.

There´s a revolution happening among Native Americans in the world of writing. They haven´t been writing very long. There were Native American writers before M. Scott Momaday (Kiowa), but they were few and isolated.

Momaday won the Pulitzer Prize in 1969. Then, not far behind, came the generation of Simon Ortiz and Joy Harjo (and some others, of course), then the generation of Sherman Alexie and now Bitsui’s generation.

Now come Santee Frazier, Jennifer Foerester, and Orlando White. And there are more out there. Kids in schools on lonely, sandy Indian reservations. We´ve seen some really good work come out of reservation schools. We´re going to see a lot more.

Published in December 2006

GOP bucks trend in Montezuma County

The election’s over, the dust has settled and now it’s time to live with the results.

Nationally a mood of “throw the rascals out,” exacerbated by ongoing Congressional scandals and outrageous pork-barrelling deficits, resulted in Democratic takeovers of the House and Senate, although by slim enough margins that no mandates were obvious except one: a commanding majority of voters want American troops out of Iraq. Exit polls showed well over 60 percent of politically active citizens do not support the war.

Several Republican congressional candidates who ran on a rabidly anti-immigration stance, such as J.D. Hayworth of Arizona, were defeated by opponents who adopted a more moderate position, even though Hayworth’s position was widely thought to be politically popular.

Going against the state and national grain, however, a solid majority of Montezuma County voters elected Republicans to all contested local offices, and voted for the GOP’s congressional and gubernatorial candidates, even though they lost.

In the race for U.S. representative in Colorado’s sprawling 3rd Congressional District, which includes most of the Western Slope and the Pueblo area, Democratic incumbent John Salazar trounced challenger Scott Tipton by a 24-percent spread, but Tipton prevailed in a few of the more conservative counties, including Montrose and Montezuma. Salazar won by nearly 2 to 1 in Dolores and La Plata counties.

Tipton, who owns a pottery business in Cortez, was endorsed by former Congressman Scott McInnis and campaigned hard throughout the district, but was hamstrung by having to rely on a war chest only about a third the size of Salazar’s.

The Congressman raised nearly $2 million for the campaign and spent most of it.

Tipton, who received no financial help from the national Republican party, raised only about $744,000, two-thirds from individual contributions.

Half of Salazar’s money came from Political Action Committees, while Tipton received only 16 percent of his funds from PACs, with the remainder coming from his own pocket.

Colorado elected Democrat Bill Ritter as governor, and Democrats retained control of the state legislature; however, Republican Ellen Roberts won a narrow victory over Democrat Joe Colgan in the 59th District (representing Archuleta, La Plata and much of Montezuma counties) and GOP incumbent Ray Rose retained his seat in the 58th, which includes the rest of Montezuma County, part of Delta County, and all of Dolores, Montrose, Ouray and San Miguel counties.

Roberts’ campaign was marred by negative advertising sponsored by an independent statewide group of builders and developers. She claimed she had no control over the ads, which depicted Colgan as a tax-loving control freak and included an unflattering doctored picture.

Incumbent Sixth District Senator Jim Isgar, a major player in water legislation, easily won re-election over his far-right GOP opponent Ron Tate, who campaigned on family-values issues.

On some key statewide ballot questions, Montezuma County voters sided with the majority of the state, rejecting domestic partnerships while endorsing a constitutional ban on same-sex marriages, and extinguishing pot-smokers’ dreams of legalizing the weed, all by wider margins than the state totals.

An amendment to raise the state’s minimum wage from $5.15 to $6.85 passed by a wider margin in the county (57 percent) than statewide (53 percent), perhaps a reflection of this area’s anemic economy.

Montezuma County

Republican Commissioner-elect Steve Chappell handily beat Galen Larson, a Democrat who had received little help from his party’s central committee and basically ran a one-man campaign. Chappell, who won the GOP nomination in an August primary against outgoing commission chair Dewayne Findley, joins Republican incumbents Larrie Rule and Gerald Koppenhafer.

Larson said later that he was glad the election was over and he could get back to being what Mother Nature intended him to be — a policital gadfly. Despite his outspoken advocacy of liberal causes (Larson is a regular columnist for the Free Press) he attracted roughly as many votes as his party’s commissioner candidates in the past two recent elections, gaining about 39 percent of the total. Former Cortez Mayor Cheryl Baker drew 46 percent of the vote in 2004 against incumbent Larrie Rule and Chuck McAfee garnered 40 percent in 2002 in his race against Findley.

For the most part, county voters said no to anything to do with taxes.

School District Re-1, serving Cortez, the Ute Mountain Ute Reservation and rural areas of the county, was denied a modest hike in the mill levy, with 54 percent voting against the increase, which was targeted at standardizing textbooks, raising teachers’ pay and a few other select areas, while the Mancos School District voters approved by more than 2-1 a measure to keep its mill levy the same, since a past increase would have sunsetted otherwise.

Todd Starr, the father of two Re-1 students who was head of a group that promoted the benefits of the proposed Re-1 tax increase, said the defeat would have far-reaching consequences.

“I think it’s going to have a tremendous effect on the school system,” Starr said. “The community should gather around our teachers and student and give them all the support they can, because they’re going to need it.

“I think we’re going to see the school board make some very difficult decisions that will have to include some pretty substantials cuts to expenditures.”

Starr said he had no clear idea why the measure failed.

“Obviously I’m disappointed it lost [but] I thought we ran a pretty good campaign,” he said. “I’m proud of the material that group produced.

“If I had it to do again, short of negative campaigning, I would focus more on what are the consequences going to be, because they’re going to be severe.” Starr said he would be willing to make another attempt at passing a mill-levy hike in two years.

Nationally, Colorado consistently ranks at or near the bottom in surveys of state spending on K-12 education, and the state’s flagship of higher education — the University of Colorado — always ranks at or near the top in rankings of party schools. (Perhaps a study could be done to see of there is any correlation.)

A proposal to increase the county’s sales tax by 0.5 cents to raise money for chip-sealing roads went down to defeat by a 60-40 margin, the third time a sales tax for roads had been nixed by voters.

A proposal to add a 0.05-cent sales tax to improve the county fairgrounds, home of the county fair, Ag Expo and numerous other events, failed by an even bigger margin, 70-30.

And a non-binding question that asked whether a mandatory residential building code should be adopted county-wide failed by a 57-43 margin.

Miscelle Allison of Pleasant View, a vocal property-rights advocate and government critic, said the tax questions were all defeated because there are many poor people in the county.

“People don’t have the income to spare,” she said. “They don’t have health insurance. They don’t have dental insurance — there are ranchers losing their teeth because they can’t afford to go to a dentist.

“Some old-timers here are making [only] $400 from Social Security — that’s why the taxes failed.”

Outgoing Commissioner Dewayne Findley, who had supported the road and fairground tax hikes and the adoption of a basic building code, said he was “extremely disappointed in the decision the voters made” on those issues.

“We need to move into the future and I think those were small steps we could have taken,” he said. “The community is sort of judged by its infrastructure.”

He said the rejection of the minuscule salestax increase for maintenance of the county fairground was indicative of the county’s changing demographics, a reflection of its diminishing rural character.

“That’s what I took away from that 70-30 vote — that 70 percent of the people didn’t think the fairgrounds was important, or didn’t have an ag background — weren’t ag-oriented — and didn’t think that was a legitimate use of public revenue.”

Opposition to rampant residential growth could be partially responsible for the defeat of the road tax and the building-code question, but wasn’t the only reason, he said.

“I think there’s an anti-growth sentiment out there, and it very well could have translated into that vote, but I really feel like the vote against the roads was more a division between the municipalities and the rural unincorporated areas.

“I think a lot of people who live in Cortez and Mancos and Dolores feel like they don’t receive any value for their tax dollars going into county roads. “I think they’re dead wrong, but we evidently didn’t do a good job of making the connection.”

Findley said one bright spot was the recent offer by the Department of Local Affairs of a pre-approved $1.5 million enery-impact grant to pave roads in the western part of the county heavily used by the oil and gas industry, similar to the grant that was used to pave the road to Hovenweep National Monument.

“That’ll be 14-15 miles more that we’ve chip-sealed,” he said, “and that lowers our maintaenance cost and does away with the washboarding and [use of] mag chloride.”

Findley predicted the new commission would adopt a permitting system for new construction that would be self-sustaining through the permit fees charged to builders who would have to have site plans approved.

“In order to convince some of the reluctant voters in Montezuma County that we can make a building department work, you’ll have to show them a success story with building permits and some minimal inspection site plans so that setbacks and septic regulations are complied with.

“I’ve heard from my fellow commissioners that they’ve instructed the administrator to move forward with implementing a building-permit system, a fee structure to fund that, and a site inspector.”

Findley also predicted the commissioners would soon consider a major increase in impact fees for new development to make it pay its own way.

“Instead of a $1,250 impact fee, we should be looking at a $2,500 or $3,500 impact fee,” he said, noting that had been the recommendation 10 years ago when the issue was first discussed.

The county’s non-binding question on a rudimentary building code — presently there is no mandatory code in unincorporated areas for non-commercial buildings — was rejected by a solid majority, with only the Cortez and Towaoc precincts favoring it. Allison, who had argued against the building-code question at a pre-election public forum, was jubilant over the outcome, pointing out that the measure was defeated by more than 1,000 votes.

“I’m reveling in it,” she said. “It was a concerted effort by a lot of us.”

She said she saw the measure as unnecessary government intrusion, pushed by people who moved in from other areas with more regulations.

“Why do people have to move in here and say we need this and that from where they came from?” she asked. “I moved here because I love the culture, the traditions and the customs of the area.”

Dolores County

It was an historic election in Dolores County, as voters seleccted their first female county commissioner ever. Voter turnout reached a remarkable 69 percent, according to the Dove Creek Press, with two local incumbents getting the boot. Democratic Commissioner Cliff Bankston will be replaced next month by Republican Julie Kibel, and Democratic assessor candidate Berna Ernst won a squeaker over outgoing Christy Vinger.

San Juan County, Utah

Voters elected Kenneth Maryboy, a Democrat, over one-term incumbent Manual Morgan, also a Democrat who lost badly to Maryboy in the primary and then began a write-in campaign, which he also lost by a wide margin.

Navajo Nation

Navajos re-elected Joe Shirley as president over Linda Lovejoy, the first female candidate for that office, by a margin of 34,813 votes (54 percent) to Lovejoy’s 30,214 (46 percent).

Voting irregularities

Although there were no major problems reported with the voting process in the Four Corners area, fuel was added to the growing mistrust of electronic voting machines during the election, particularly of those that don’t give electors a paper record of their votes.

In one small but seemingly incontrovertible example, the mayoral race in Waldenburg, Arkansas, produced an 18-18 tie, according to touch-screen voting machines using software supplied by Electronic Systems and Software. Only trouble was a third candidate, Randy Wooten, received no votes in the computerized tally, even though Wooten and his wife swore they’d voted for him. An ES&S spokesperson stoutly maintained there was “no problem with the equipment, period,” thereby challenging the veracity of the Wootens and undoubtedly raising the level of skepticism about the accuracy of the newfangled machines several notches in the tiny community.

In Florida in the 13th Congressional district (currently represented by Katherine Harris, the former Secretary of State who validated George Bush’s 2000 victory over Al Gore in that state) allegedly had 18,000 voters who cast ballots for candidates for other offices, according to the touch-screen balloting, but not for either the Democrat or Republican in the Congressional race. Even though Congressional approval is at an all-time low, this result is unlikely, especially since all the alleged abstainers were from one county. The Republican candidate is claiming victory, while the Democrat has taken her challenge to court.

Whoever prevails, it certainly looks like a lot of votes went uncounted, thanks to software that is considered proprietary and can’t be independently examined.

Published in December 2006

Uranium’s resurgence sparks debate

 

Gilbert Badoni grew up around uranium mining.

PERRY CHARLEY

“My dad first got a job in the early ’50s around the Cove [Ariz.] area,” he told an audience at the Indigenous World Uranium Summit Nov. 30 – Dec. 2 in Window Rock, Ariz., capital of the Navajo Nation.

“Work was scare. The only employment they could obtain was in the railroads back East or on the West Coast. They wanted to be close to their families.

“Lo and behold, here came the uranium companies wanting to open up mines in the Four Corners area. That attracted our fathers and grandfathers. They got jobs without no training, without any warning that one day they would die from cancer.”

Badoni’s father worked in Cove several years. Then the family moved to Colorado’s Western Slope, to Grand Junction, Uravan, and Slickrock.

“My dad worked in those mines,” Badoni said. “Many Navajos did. People lived in mining camps, in trailers, tents. I can still hear the generators that provided power to the mine. In the wee hours of the night you could still hear it, no matter that you’re four or five miles from the mine.

“Our fathers and grandfathers worked at these mines with their bare hands. Our families were brought up at these camps. Our mothers would have those baby formulas, those powders, and the only good drinking water they could find was from the mines. Fathers were bringing back these jugs of water for cooking.”

His father came home at night covered in yellow uranium ore. “He would look like gold,” Badoni recounted. “There was all types of dust on him. He would shake it off inside the house.”

INDIGENOUS WORLD URANIUM SUMMIT

Carl Holiday, who spoke during a tour at the summit, told a similar tale of workers with no protective gear, no warning of how radiation might damage them.

“The workers worked in the mines from sunup to dark,” Holiday said. “They drank water coming from the cracks in the walls. They ate their lunch down there. They took the contamination home to their families.”

Vanessa Brown was born in Tuba City, Ariz., on the reservation. She remembers watching the men, including her father, working in the big pit east of Tuba City.

Years later, when the mill there was closed, she would go with friends into the pit to play a drum. “We thought it was so cool to see the earth around us,” she said. “Never knowing what it was. “I did notice, I had two trees in my front yard. Trees are scare in Tuba City. But they were always sick. Now and then I would find little dead birds underneath those.”

Later on, signs began appearing along the mining property warning of radiation danger in the very areas where Brown’s family had worked and played.

Brown’s mother died of cancer. Today, Brown works with victims of sickness in the Tuba City area. “It’s like Pandora’s box was opened,” she said of the uranium mining. “The damage is done.”

Phil Harrison, an advocate for Diné uranium workers, agrees. The son of a uranium worker, he grew up in mining camps and did some mining himself while in high school in Gateway, Colo. His father died of lung cancer in 1971; seven of his uncles died of lung disease; and his grandfather and grandmother both died of cancer, he said.

”We were used as guinea pigs because the Navajo people didn’t read or write English. We were used without our consent,” Harrison said. “We were used as cheap labor to mine uranium.”

Horrific legacy

Stories such as these – hundreds of them – are the legacy of uranium mining on the Navajo reservation. It’s a legacy so horrific that it prompted the tribal council in 2005 to adopt a resolution called the Diné Natural Resources Protection Act ( Diné is the Navajos’ preferred term for themselves), which states that “it is the duty and responsibility of the Diné to protect and preserve the natural world for future generations” and that, because of the problems caused by uranium mining in the past, “No person shall engage in uranium mining and uranium processing on any sites within Navajo Indian Country.”

That sets up a legal showdown with different uranium companies that are now eagerly seeking to resume mining at sites across the West, many of which lie within or adjacent to the 26,000- square-mile reservation.

The price of uranium has soared from about $10 a pound to $60 as worldwide supplies have fallen. Most of the material would go to fuel nuclear power plants.

“The uranium industry is pounding on the state’s doors, you should know that,” Darrith Watchman-Moore, deputy secretary with the New Mexico Environment Department, told an audience at the uranium summit.

Some 4 million tons of uranium ore were taken from the reservation from 1944 to 1986, according to the Los Angeles Times, which recently published a four-part series on uranium mining and the Diné. The U.S. government was the only customer. The radioactive material was used to make the atomic bomb and later to create more nuclear weapons during the Cold War.

In the 1960s, the boom declined, and in 1970 the U.S. ended its procurement program.

But about one-quarter of all the recoverable uranium remaining in the country is on the Navajo reservation, which sprawls across Arizona, Utah and New Mexico. And mining companies would like to get at it.

Radioactive dam break

Many mining proposals involve land that is technically not on the reservation.

URANIUM SITE NEAR CHURCH ROCK, NM

One proposal, for instance, is for mining at Church Rock, northeast of Gallup, N.M., on a parcel of land where the mineral rights are owned by Uranium Resources Inc. It is one of many places within the reservation, particularly around its southeastern edge, that are “checkerboarded” with parcels of private, federal and state land.

United Nuclear Corp. operated a mine and mill at Church Rock from 1968 to 1982.

In conventional uranium mining, ore is extracted and taken to a mill. There it is crushed and mixed with sulfuric and nitric acids and other compounds to remove the uranium.

The uranium mill produces uranium oxide, a metallic powder, which is taken to a conversion facility to be gasified into uranium hexachloride. Then it is taken to an enrichment facility to be turned into a form that can be used for nuclear fuel or weapons. Left behind when the ore is processed are fine-grained, sandy tailings that are radioactive. At Church Rock, the tailings were mixed into a liquid slurry which was piped to a depression behind an earthen dam.

On July 16, 1979, the dam broke, reportedly because of “differential foundation settlement,” and 94 million gallons of highly acidic wastewater and radioactive wastes spilled through, the largest accidental release of radioactive material in U.S. history. It washed down Rio Puerco almost as far as the Grand Canyon.

Radioactivity was detected in Gallup a few hours later. The Rio Puerco contained 7,000 times the acceptable standard of radioactivity for drinking water after the spill occurred.

Officials, however, said the area was so sparsely populated, there was little to worry about. They did advise people not to drink the water until the problem was cleaned up.

Today the site is covered with dirt and clay, a cap that is supposed to last at least 200 years, although the half-life of the radioactive elements is 1,600 years, said Chris Shuey, director of the Uranium Impact Assessment Program for the Southwest Research and Information Center in Albuquerque. United Nuclear also left an enormous pile of radioactive mine waste at the Church Rock site, where livestock grazed, children played, and people combed the property for sacred herbs.

Studies done by a community group with the help of the U.S. EPA in 2003 found gamma radiation levels nine to 12 times greater than normal background levels in sands in the minewaste area.

Larry King, who lives near the old mine at Church Rock, said the government’s and mining company’s lack of concern for the Diné was demonstrated by the fact that the state paid to pave the road and install electricity through to the UNC mine, but bypassed the people living nearby.

“Their security lights were like our security lights. They lit the whole area, but we still didn’t have power in our homes,” he said.

“So with this new mining company coming in and promising all kinds of revenues and jobs that would benefit the community, to me it’s all a lie,” King said.

Preserving a way of life

Hydro Resources Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of URI, hopes to resume mining at the site. HRI, according to a company web site, “has invested over $25 million in New Mexico since 1986 because the San Juan Basin is the most prolific uranium province in the United States.” The company proposes using a new method known as in situ mining. Hundreds of holes are drilled, and water and oxygen are injected into the ground. Uranium leaches into the water, which is then pumped out. When the uranium is removed the water is returned.

Eight hundred fifty people live within a 3-mile radius of the proposed Church Rock mine site, King said. “HRI says this is a vast desert, but this is home to us.”

Navajos hold valid grazing permits at the site, according to Chris Shuey, but the company is asserting a higher legal authority to mine.

The land is tribal trust land that was leased under a 1958 surface-use agreement between the tribe and a private mining company. HRI now holds that agreement.

But the tribe intends to stand firmly by its position of no uranium mining “within Navajo Indian country,” which they consider to be within the nation’s boundaries or even near them. They point out that two mining complexes located on Haystack Butte in New Mexico just outside the reservation produced high levels of radiation that affected Navajos living nearby. Navajo Nation President Joe Shirley Jr. signed the 2005 DNRPA resolution and supports the ban on mining.

Shirley gave the welcoming address at the summit and called for people from around the world to work together to protect land, water and people from the harmful effects of uranium mining.

LYNNEA SMITH

“We want our way of life preserved, and if we continue to allow uranium mining, we stand to lose it all,” said Lynnea Smith, an activist with Eastern Navajo Diné Against Uranium Mining.

Not a priority

During the uranium boom of the 1940s and ’50s, mining occurred at a frenetic pace. Miners worked without protective gear, exposing them to particulates and radon gas released by the uranium. Many later developed silicosis, lung cancer or other diseases. Miners of all races were affected, of course, but the Navajo people were particularly hard-hit. When the uranium boom ended, they were left with 1,000 abandoned mines and four mill sites on their lands.

Most were not cleaned up, barricaded or even fenced off for years, if ever. As time went on, the Diné built homes using radioactive tailings. They and their livestock drank from old mine pits that had filled with water. Dust blew from tailings piles and was carried for miles.

The rate of cancer deaths on the reservation doubled from the start of the 1970s to the end of the 1990s, the Los Angeles Times reported.

The Times also reported that in 1986, testing of 48 water sources around Cameron, Ariz., found that uranium levels in the water were as high as 139 picocuries per liter in wells and up to 4,024 in abandoned pits. EPA rules permit no more than 20 picocuries per liter in drinking water.

“Some open pits had standing water that was used for swimming and by livestock,” said Madeline Roanhorse, executive director of the Navajo Abandoned Mine Lands program. “Some old mines were used as corrals.”

The AML program has closed mine entrances with concrete blocks, rocks and gates, she said. However, the program does not deal with environmental concerns such as groundwater contamination and residual radiation.

Cleanup efforts have been spotty and plagued by problems. Beginning in 1984, the Department of Energy covered tailings piles at the mill sites. But the Navajos worry that wind and erosion will expose the materials again. And groundwater contamination is known or suspected at many sites dotting the reservation.

Diane Malone, program manager for the Navajo Environmental Protection Agency’s Superfund Program, said the tribe has approached the U.S. EPA about conducting studies to ascertain the extent of groundwater contamination, “but they say, ‘We don’t have the money’. It’s not a priority of this administration.”

Cleanup in Durango

Closer to home, Durango, Colo., has its own old milling site.

“A lot of people in Durango are not even aware that right across the river from the train station there used to be a uranium milling complex,” said David Miller of S.M. Stoller at a presentation in November at Fort Lewis College. The Vanadium Corp. processed uranium there for two decades, until 1963, he said. S.M. Stoller is a subcontractor that works with the Department of Energy to clean up “legacy sites” left by uranium mining and milling.

Like the Navajos, citizens in Durango often used the sandy tailings for construction or landscaping. “People would come load up their pickup with mill tailings, take it and put it in their flowerbeds,” Miller said.

Raffinate – an acidic, liquid waste with high concentrations of uranium and other materials — was dumped into the Animas River originally, Miller said. Later the company began dumping it on the ground to evaporate.

The operation shut down when the boom ended. The cleanup of the mill site began in 1986, Miller said. Two and a half million cubic yards of material were removed and entombed in a disposal cell in Bodo Canyon, where it is expected to remain for the next 1,000 yards.

Bats use mines

One of the unexpected beneficiaries of the uranium-mining boom of the 1940s and ’50s has been the bat. Bats now inhabit many abandoned uranium mines on the western portion of San Juan Public Lands.

“We have one of the largest bat rookeries in the United States,” said Jamie Sellar-Baker, associate district manager with the Dolores District of the San Juan Public Lands Center.

After mining companies cease activity at a site, the SJPLC and Colorado Division of Wildlife often work to install bat gates, she said. They bar the entrance for humans, livestock and larger wildlife, but the bats can continue to use the mines.

Among the species here is the Townsend’s big-eared bat, considered a sensitive species on local public lands, said Kathy Nickell, wildlife biologist with the SJPLC.

Nickell said it’s not known how, or whether, bats are affected by residual radiation in the mines.

“We’ve wondered if we really had that many Townsend’s bats here before the mining,” Nickell said. “We may have created a habitat for them, and that would be an unusual and pleasant benefit to having done all that mining in the past.”

About 300 other sites in the Durango area had to be cleaned up as well where residents had used the tailings around their homes, Miller said. An even more massive cleanup took place in the Grand Junction area – where close to 8,000 similar sites were remediated, Miller said, and around the country, “wherever there was milling or uranium that the [Department of Energy] was involved with,” he said. Most sites, however, were centered in the Four Corners.

Expendable human beings

Norman Brown, an activist for the Diné, finds the careful cleanup of the Durango area somewhat ironic.

“They didn’t do that to our lands,” he said. “We’ve got four big tailings sites that they just covered up. They didn’t remove them.

“We were an expendable commodity, expendable human beings,” Brown said. “We were lied to, we were played with, all in the name of national security. “It was because of the Navajo people that America became the sole nuclear power in the world, and we have paid for that.”

The Radiation Exposure Compensation Act, passed in 1990 and amended several times since, provides compensation for former uranium mine or mill workers and their families. Yet only about 10 percent of Diné uranium workers have been compensated through RECA, Harrison said, vs. about 90 percent of white workers. Part of the problem is that the government wants documentation such as original birth certificates, original marriage licenses, land titles, check stubs to verify work history, and chest X-rays – items many old workers simply don’t possess.

“People say, ‘Who was there when I was born in a hogan?’” he asked. “Who was documenting this?

“But the services have been rendered, the war was won, our code talkers were there on the front. They need to stop waiting and pay these workers.”

Activists’ efforts have focused on four areas: obtaining compensation for all workers, reclaiming former mine and mill sites, conducting health studies on the effects of land and water contamination, and banning uranium mining or milling on Dinetah.

Advocates are now seeking to have RECA expanded to allow the use of affidavits to prove certain things that can’t be documented otherwise; and to expand the counties considered to be “downwind.”

Downwinders are people who were exposed to radioactive fallout from nuclear tests in Nevada in the 1950s. The boundaries for downwinders stop at the Arizona state line and don’t go into New Mexico, Harrison said. He wants the downwind counties to include McKinley and San Juan counties in New Mexico, and Montezuma County in Colorado.

Work is proceeding slowly on reclamation and health studies. Shuey said the tribe is trying to initiate studies to look at possible environmental factors (such as uranium exposure) in kidney disease, which is three to five times the national average on the reservation.

But when it comes to enforcing the uranium-mining ban, the future is uncertain. Some 10 different companies are seeking to mine within or near the reservation boundaries, Shuey said. One proposal is for uranium mining on Mt. Taylor in New Mexico, one of the Navajos’ four sacred mountains.

“If someone proposed drilling a mine in the middle of a 400-year-old Catholic Church there would be outrage,” Shuey said.

Uranium-company executives insist that new technology and greater protection for workers can make uranium mining a safe and profitable venture for all concerned, providing well-paying jobs on the poverty-plagued reservation. And some environmentalists argue that nuclear energy is a clean alternative to coal-fired power plants, which produce greenhouse gases and contribute to global warming.

But many remain skeptical.

“We do have Navajos who are pro mining, pro milling, but the majority are against it because of what happened,” said Perry Charley of Diné College in Shiprock, N.M.

“These uranium guys want everyone to believe them, and yet we have this 50-year record of their malfeasance against the people,” Shuey said. “The only entity that believes these guys is the Nuclear Regulatory Commission.”

‘All downwinders’

Travis Stills, an attorney with the nonprofit Energy Minerals Law Center in Durango, said at the presentation at Fort Lewis that new uranium-mining proposals are popping up across the Four Corners as well as in Wyoming. Companies are talking about putting 38 mines into production again in the Uravan area, Stills said. Uravan, on Highway 141 in Montrose County, Colo., is a former uranium and vanadium (hence its name) mining town that was completely dismantled as part of an EPA cleanup.

There is a proposal for a new mill near Paradox, Colo., as well as for one north of the Grand Canyon and at Mt. Taylor. “Mines need mills and vice versa,” Stills said.

Currently the International Uranium Corp.’s uranium/vanadium mill at White Mesa, Utah, near Blanding is the only operating mill in the area.

“We are all downwinders in some respects,” Stills said. “This is an issue for the region.”

The Indigenous World Uranium Summit brought together some 350 people from a dozen countries where uranium mining is a concern, including Australia, Brazil and India, where miners work for $1 a day.

The delegates issued a declaration, dated Dec. 2, that states in part: “The nuclear fuel chain poisons our people, land, air and waters and threatens our very existence and our future generations. Nuclear power is not a solution to global warming. . . . “We reaffirm the Declaration of the World Uranium Hearing in Salzburg, Austria, in 1992, that ‘uranium and other radioactive minerals must remain in their natural location.’”

Published in December 2006

Highlights from one week of stupidity

Caveat. Perspective is pretty much everything. Accordingly, if you thought the week of Nov. 13-18 was peachykeen and dandy-fine, that’s great. It’s true that probably many occurrences were spurred by logic, reason and intelligence during this same span. But there was also a whole lotta stupid going on, from grown men attacking each other over a video-game console, to George Bush at last comparing Iraq to Vietnam — and predictably, reaching a conclusion that is the exact opposite of reality.

Two more notable highlights: Colorado Attorney General John Suthers was obligated to allay concerns that Homaidin al-Turki — who was recently sentenced on 12 counts of subjecting his family’s Indonesian nanny to unlawful sexual contact, plus falsely imprisoning her for years — had been unfairly prosecuted because he is Muslim.

On its face, that’s reasonable enough. Obviously, no one wants to see a person jailed because of his religious beliefs. And it’s true there’s a good deal of ignorance, bigotry and misguided fear when it comes to Islam. But Islam is not why al-Turki is going to prison, and it boggles the mind that our AG had to explain Colorado’s “injustice” to Saudi Arabia.

Pause and let that sink in. Saudi Arabia, the rabidly misogynistic land where rape victims can be imprisoned or even, some accounts insist, killed; where radical Wahhabi religious police virtually rule by whim and where native son bin Laden probably hides his wealth. Yes, that Saudi Arabia demanded to know how we could possibly prosecute one of its citizens over what he did to a mere woman, and a lower-class non- Saudi woman at that. (Al-Turki denied his guilt at sentencing and also spoke of the criminalizing of “basic Muslim behaviors.” Is it a “basic Muslim behavior” to take sexual liberties with a captive servant? One suspects law-abiding Muslims would beg to differ.) Al-Turki would not — so the Saudis say — have been convicted in his own country. Yeah. No kidding.

But rather than simply point out that our laws are not subject to the approval of Saudi Arabia, our federal government’s response to all the fuss was to put Suthers on a plane to Riyadh and have him humbly explain Colorado justice. Apparently, it pays to have Uncle Sam over an oil barrel. Because I can’t imagine the feds sending U.S. Attorney General Alberto Gonzales to other nations to explain why, for instance, the U.S. has imprisoned their citizens without trial, or “rendered” them to countries that practice torture. That’s too bad. Showing other countries the same level of diplomacy and tact that are Saudi Arabia’s for the asking might go a long way toward countering the anti-American sentiment that breeds future terrorists.

Here’s hoping Suthers’ face time with King Abudullah actually achieves the placation the feds are so keen on. That Saudi Arabia will stop viewing a pattern sexual offender as the victim?

That’s probably hoping for too much. Of course, Saudi Arabia doesn’t have a corner on antipathy toward women. Twelve years later, it’s the gift that keeps on giving for O.J. Simpson, which brings us to pop culture’s stupidity contribution for the week of Nov. 13.

He who was acquitted when the glove could not be fitted, unleashed one of the sickest publicity campaigns in recorded history. His book “If I Did It” was hyped as a hypothetical explanation of how and why he would have killed his ex-wife Nicole and her waiter, Ron Goldman — if, of course, he did it.

The outcry was deafening, much of it directed at publisher Judith Regan, who “interviewed” O.J. for a segment on Fox — the fair and balanced network owned by Rupert Murdoch, who also owns Regan’s publishing company. Once people began pointing out the obvious conflict and sleazy marketeering, Regan began (as a victim’s relative told ABC News) covering her ass. She doesn’t agree with O.J., of course. And she wasn’t doing the interview for profit, but to effect revenge against all spousal abusers! She also whined about how journalists who’ve interviewed killers weren’t picked on for doing so.

There is, of course, a reason for that. While networks and publishing houses are frequently owned by the same corporation, other networks disclose that link when featuring an author. More important, their journalists are not also publishers who’ve just handed over a mint to their “interview” subjects for a book deal that will ultimately benefit the owner of the network airing the interview. Accordingly, there’s no personal vested financial interest in generating book sales. Duh?

At least this lunacy ultimately proved a flash in the pan. Murdoch, in a rare concession to good taste (spurred by advertising pressure and Fox affiliate revolts) — heaven forbid he simply concede to good journalism — pulled the plug on both the segment and the book deal Nov. 20. Good call. But not enough, alas, to restore one’s faith in the common sense of man.

Katharhynn Heidelberg is a journalist in Montrose.

Published in Katharhynn Heidelberg

The last Commodore in America

I hate to sink anyone’s ship, but it’s not a naval story I’m about to tell. The Commodore I want to talk about is an old, old, old-style data processor manufactured at the dawn of the personal computer business. If you remember when the Commodore 64 was an affordable introduction to the world of computers, then it’s likely we are from the same planet; if you’ve never heard of a Commodore – not the computer or even the naval officer – then it’s entirely possible you haven’t yet graduated from high school.

The Commodore by today’s technology standards is a dinosaur, much like the old kitchen clock I’d inherited from my father (who’d inherited it from his mother). Before the quartz movement became commonplace in the time business, the gears of clocks and watches pivoted on a jewel – an actual gemstone. My father’s mother wound her clock with a key each week, and the pendulum would swing back and forth. I know very little about what makes a clock tick, even less about what makes a computer byte. I suspect, though, that for every year that passes a computer ages seven.

This is where Larry Lee enters the story, an antique clock repairman, one of a vanishing breed. He works out of a rented garage just off Main Street. Nobody would recognize the location if they drove past. No sign on the door. Just a sturdy workbench and a floor space cluttered with tables and boxes, where people drop off their family heirlooms and go home. Walk into his shop on the hour and you’ll hear at least a dozen clocks chiming. And maybe Larry will glance up from the clock he’s dissecting at the moment to welcome you over the din of clock music. Or maybe you’ll just have to wait until the chiming subsides and he notices your nervous cough.

The clock I brought to Larry Lee had been cannibalized by my father. I didn’t have much hope the timepiece would ever be resurrected. Before my father died he’d removed its gears and guts and stuck a cheap plastic quartz movement behind its timeless face. It ran like every other clock in America – without imagination. Its ability to chime on the hour had been silenced. First I tried a clock repair charlatan in Farmington, N.M., and he spent nearly a year with smoke and mirrors trying to convince me he’d have my father’s clock running in just another month. He put its guts back in place but its heart was still missing. Back home the clock ran for one full day.

Larry Lee said he’d look at it.

I left it in a cue with many other clocks. Mine is over 100 years old and the arthritis in its hands radiated through my own hands before I let it go.

Unknown to me at the time, Larry Lee had a secret weapon: his Commodore 64 computer. He’d written a program back in the heyday of computers that allows him to hook his clocks up with wires like a doctor connects patients to an EKG machine to regulate the pattern of their tickers. Larry can trace the clock’s ailment, adjust its whatever, and make the necessary repairs. He restored my father’s clock and in less than a month called me to say so. I came by the same day to pick my aging relative up.

The clock ran smoothly for several months. I’d spent about $200 in repair tickets between the two clock shops, and obviously, too much time. When the clock stopped running again, I thought, That’s it! I’ll leave it as a museum piece, a time capsule, so to speak, of my family’s penchant for winding things up. I, too, was done with it.

But after a month I missed the chiming it produced on the hour. Actually, clanking is a better word for the sound its tiny hammer produced when it struck a coiled piece of wire, but I grew accustomed to the sound. My resolve dissolved and I called Larry again.

He said he’d look at it.

Of course, he got it running again, and he didn’t charge me a penny. He pointed out how clocks this old begin to suffer the calamities of aged people: Things stop working like they used to. The metal suffers from stress, the teeth and bushings get worn, the movement… well, let’s just say the springs lose their springiness. Time takes its toll, even on clocks.

I enjoyed another six months of clock music. Larry had actually resurrected my grandmother, my father, and to some extent even my childhood. Then the last time I wound my clock the pendulum lost its tick; it just wouldn’t continue swinging back and forth. I set the hands at twelve o’clock and that’s how it remains today. It’s probably a simple adjustment, that’s all, to get it running again. But I remember my last conversation with Larry Lee, when I asked him why he doesn’t replace his Commodore. He just laughed.

And you can’t argue with that.

David Feela is a teacher at Montezuma-Cortez High School.

Published in David Feela

Ag producers decry proposed ID system

 

DERYK CAMERON VACCINATES A COW AT THE LIVESTOCK AUCTIONUnnecessary, intrusive and expensive — those are some of the nicer things Four Corner agricultural producers, especially cattlemen, are saying about the USDA’s new plan for a National Animal Identification System (NAIS).

”It’ll break us. It’s senseless,” said Montezuma County rancher Johnny Green.

The goal of the NAIS is to establish a 15-digit tag on every animal, a sevendigit “premise” number for every ranch or farm, and a database that will enable “traceback” of a diseased animal within 48 hours to its birth herd. All of this is to be mandatory by a specified date.

The USDA began to plan NAIS in 2002 and rolled out the “NAIS Draft Strategic Plan” on May 6, 2005. Foreign disease outbreaks such as BSE (mad cow) and foot-and-mouth disease in the United Kingdom, and the highly contagious avian influenza in Asia (which spread to Africa and Europe) were the primary motivation.

A case of BSE in the United States in December 2003, and the possibility of animal-disease terrorism after 9/11, were in the back story as well.

The USDA wants to have the NAIS number also identify the age of the animal, especially cattle, because BSE shows up only in older animals. For the export market, Japan now specifies beef no older than 20 months; the limit is 30 months in many other countries.

Although the original “NAIS Draft Strategic Plan” claimed to have been developed through “listening sessions” with industry and producers, apparently officials had not reached down to the grassroots level in places such as Montezuma County. The outcry from small producers all over the country was immediate. Protest groups sprouted on the Internet (NoNAIS, Stop Animal ID.org, Liberty Ark Coalition), joining established organizations to express concern. No agricultural meeting went without a gripe session, and members of Congress began to receive messages from a grassroots “defund NAIS totally” campaign.

In April 2006, the USDA issued “A Guide for Small-Scale or Non- Commercial Producers” to address the concerns of the smallest ranches and farmsteads. No, the agency said, they hadn’t meant dogs and cats. And no, they didn’t mean animals who never left their birth home or just got slaughtered for family food. You could still ride your horse in the parade or on a trail and enter your chicken in the county fair without a tag.

But if your animal ever went to a sale barn or a state fair, or was slaughtered to sell the meat, requirements for tagging, premise registration and reporting of movements remained the same. The USDA set up study groups to pick the type of tag for each species.

The cattle study group chose a tamperproof RFID (radio frequency ID) tag — insisting on, and getting, assurance that the database would be privately held and not subject to the federal Freedom of Information Act.

The USDA began to hedge about the mandatory requirements for tagging and premise registration contained in the original proposal. NAIS would be voluntary, at least for a while.

So, where do animal owners currently stand? Premise registration is now available in all states; the database for registering animal tags will be ready by January 2007, and all newborn animals are to be tagged by January 2009.

Cost estimates are missing in all the USDA public information so far. Initially, animal owners feared they would need to invest several thousand dollars in tags, scanners, and computers (to report movement) in order to comply with NAIS.

But Rick Wahlert, deputy division director at the Colorado Brand Inspection Board, said, “The producer just needs a $2 tag for each animal. The number is also printed on an RFID tag, so you can read it without a scanner. The receiver (e.g., a sale barn or packing house) will be responsible for reporting the movement of the animal. There has been some discussion of using Bangs and scrapie numbers during the phase-in period of the program.”

There are already tags and/or brands on a lot of animals for other purposes. All sheep and goats, for instance, are supposed to have a uniquely-numbered tag to allow them to be traced back to the owner if they show evidence of scrapie, a prion disease.

Cattle carry tags with a “Bangs” number showing they’ve been vaccinated against brucellosis (Bangs disease), which can cause cows to abort. All domestic elk herds in Colorado; all llamas that go to shows and about half the dairy cows in the U.S., for milk production management purposes, are also tagged.

In Colorado, the branding requirements include reporting movement of cattle more than 70 miles, which already makes for some trackability.

Opponents of NAIS say it would merely pile on the costs for livestock producers.

“We already brand,” said Green, “and that costs $125 when you register your brand and $125 to use it for five years, and that may go up to $100 a year. They’re going to keep all that and add this NAIS. It’s not an animal thing but who’s got what and how much money.

We’re just losing more freedom.”

The sale barns may bear the brunt of the costs. Judd Suckla, co-owner of Cortez Livestock Auction, said, “NAIS needs to go away. Sale barns will have to spend between $7,000 and $30,000 for a scanner and we will have to pass that expense on to the producers.”

And, he said, scanners don’t read fast enough or with 100 percent accuracy. “Last week, after sheep and horses, we sold 1200 head of cattle between 1:30 and 8:30. We can read brands faster than we could scan. The first thing the USDA needs to do is tell us what it’s going to cost.”

The cost and technology have Doug Zalesky of Hesperus, president of the Colorado Independent Cattlegrowers Association, concerned as well.

“As proposed, the mandatory NAIS is not a workable system,” Zalesky said. “The USDA has never done a cost/benefit analysis. Australian cattlemen say their system costs them $30 a head, when all the costs are passed through.

“When you have to run the cattle multiple times through a chute to get 100 percent of the tags read, you get loss of weight — we call it shrink — and right now the best percentage read I’ve seen is about 60 percent [accuracy on one pass]. The technology is not at the level needed.

“You’d be hard-pressed to find a producer that’s against an animal health traceback system. We’re just against this one.”

Zalesky said the American Animal Health Organization recently recommended looking at the old brucellosis model, which uses a 50-cent ear clip.

“This system is inexpensive and it works,” he said. “Brands need to be incorporated into the new system, whatever it is. And state veterinarians need to be involved in making any system work.”

Veterinarians appreciate the disease-traceback aspects of NAIS but don’t want to see producers burdened with overlapping systems.

“I’m not necessarily against it but it’s how they did it,” said Gerald Koppenhafer, a Mancos veterinarian and a Montezuma County commissioner. “They could have had the veterinarians put on a premise tag when we do the Bangs. We’d have a lot of cattle IDed by now.”

Small producers worry about the loss of privacy as well. The premise registration, either with GPS coordinates or by address, in especially unpopular.

Laurie and Rusty Hall farm Seven Meadows Farm in Montezuma County. They practice sustainable methods and produce organically grown food for the local market. Self-reliance is a major goal for them.

They have a team of Belgians, plus seven other horses, five donkeys, two cows, 15 sheep and some chickens. All these species are included in NAIS and each will have its own type of tag, e.g., injectable microchips, cattle with RFID ear tags, sheep with electronic ID tags. The Halls could conceivably be forced to deal with five different kinds of tags, one type for each species.

“The NAIS is not only an invasion of privacy — it will put many small farmers out of business,” said Laurie Hall. “Some of my neighbors can barely afford gas now. The large corporations are promoting NAIS. It’s just greed hiding behind national-security issues.

“When small, local producers go out of business and the food supply is concentrated in big agriculture, it makes our food supply more vulnerable to terrorism.”

On the other hand, state agencies concerned with getting NAIS running are annoyed at the rural resistance.

John Heller, animal ID coordinator for the Colorado Department of Agriculture Division of Animal Industry (known as the State Vet Board) said, “Canada, Mexico, Argentina, Australia, Brazil are all doing animal ID . . . there are Third World countries doing this and we can’t agree on a system.”

Two conclusions are easy to reach. NAIS isn’t going away. And hammering out a workable plan is going to take a while.

Published in November 2006

Revisiting an American insurgency: ‘Dances with Wolves’ author delves into reality of white/Indian battles

“Dances with Wolves” author Michael Blake has done many things since he left home at age 17, rented a garage apartment, and started his own life.

He’s been a grocery clerk, poured concrete, served in the United States Air Force as a journalist, and attended Eastern New Mexico University in Portales, and the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque.

He’s run a movie theater, and survived in Los Angeles as a screen writer, and a reporter for the underground newspaper the Los Angeles Free Press.

Michael Blake has twice beaten cancer, and health problems related to radiation and chemotherapy.

But of all his jobs and challenges, Blake believes the hardest is writing. That’s not just because he struggled to make $10,000 a year as a writer until “Dances with Wolves” was published. The difficulty comes from what he has to do before he sits down with a pad and paper to write a first draft of something — longhand.

“I just dive into stuff,” he says by phone from his house in Vail, Ariz., where he lives with his wife and three children.

“I read until I have good thoughts in my head, and feel myself ready to go. Then I start writing.”

He more or less follows his nose into his work, a drastic change from the way he approached his writing at the beginning of his career 35 years ago. Then, he scribbled outlines on butcher paper, and hung them on his apartment walls, so he could be near his stories. Every time he had a new idea, he consulted his pages for a place to put it.

Now, by the time he places his pen at a left margin, he’s done a lot of mental preparation. “The words going on paper are just the tip of the iceberg. They don’t cover the thoughts, the readings, and the sleepless nights I’ve spent considering what I’m going to say.”

Lots of experience supports his feelings about and approach to his craft. Besides “Dances with Wolves,” he has written two other novels, “Marching to Valhalla” and “The Holy Road.”

In the 1980s, one of Blake’s movie scripts became a low-budget feature called “Double Down,” starring an unknown actor named Kevin Costner.

Now Blake has a new project: his first nonfiction book, “Indian Yell: The Heart of an American Insurgency,” published by Northland Press.

Finding the process of putting a nonfiction work together very different from a novel, he sums up the task of completing “Indian Yell” in one explosive sentence: “What a job.”

First, it was an ambitious job. “Indian Yell: The Heart of an American Insurgency” covers the years from 1845 to 1890 in the United States, a period Blake calls “instrumental in forming America in terms of its attitude.”

He sees a link between what Europeans did to Native Americans in the 19th Century, and what the U. S. Government does to other cultures today.

“[Indians] were . . . essentially in our way,” Blake states. “The conflicts were based on wanting to exploit the country. And in blunt terms, greed.”

The idea for “Indian Yell” began coming together in Blake’s mind during the 1980s, when he read “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee” for the second time. Fascinated with the white/Indian conflict, he began studying everything he could on the subject, including 150 volumes about Gen. George Armstrong Custer.

Finally, he thought he was ready to follow his nose into “Indian Yell.” But getting the thoughts he gathered from reading onto paper proved more of a challenge than he anticipated.

“Trying to disentangle a contemporary scandal is hard enough, but what about when everyone [involved] is a hundred years dead?”

Checking facts also proved extremely exacting. “I’ve been spoiled as a novelist, running without a leash.”

Still, Blake created a book that excited him. Native Americans fought each other, and lived in a harsh environ- ment, but their cultures offered much that was good. His voice gathers energy as he gives examples.

“Indians practiced pure democracy. . . in their villages. Tribal councils did not appoint leaders based on wealth or rank. People followed those who could lead.”

Native American cultures also had special spirituality, regarding the world as the sacred work of the Creator. When a hunter killed a buffalo for food, he thanked the animal for dying to feed a human family.

Europeans missed this philosophy as they swarmed over Indians and their territory in the rush to exploit land and resources. Blake sees a lesson in the European mistake.

”I wish that all of us could look at the world as a more sacred place, and take care of our own country in a better way.”

Blake based “Indian Yell” on careful research, spending at least two hours every day working on the manuscript. But he also avoided making the book too scholarly. He wanted all Americans, not just professors, to learn from reading the history of the struggles between Indians and whites.

“It grabs me when someone says ‘I’m not into history, but this is good, and I couldn’t put it down’.”

Believing all who live in a democracy should know about their country, Blake hopes reading “Indian Yell” will help people make better choices about dealing with cultures they encounter in the future.

“Can we change what happened? No, we cannot.” says Blake “Can we look at what happened — and reflect on what happened — and maybe take a little different turn with the way we deal with the world? I think so.”

Published in Arts & Entertainment, November 2006

New tests show mercury in reservoirs still a concern

Don’t eat too much of certain types of fish pulled from the waters of McPhee and Narraguinnep reservoirs.

That advisory, issued 13 years ago, will continue indefinitely into the future, based on the most recent tests of fish in those bodies of water. Testing of fish conducted at McPhee and Narraguinnep Reservoir more than two years ago shows that mercury advisories continue to be needed for certain species of predatory fish.

A report has yet to be issued by the Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment’s Water Quality Division, but a scientist with the department says the advisories will continue.

“The advisories will be revised, but they will continue. I cannot rescind them,” said Lucia Machado, physical research scientist with the department.

The current advisories were based on tests done in 1993. In the summer of 2004, Machado, with help from the Colorado Division of Wildlife, took new samplings at the reservoirs.

“The early word is that there’s not a lot that’s changed from the earlier testing” in 1993, said Mike Japhet, senior aquatic biologist with the Colorado Division of Wildlife in Durango, who helped with the sampling.

Japhet collected smallmouth bass, rainbow trout, yellow perch, Kokanee salmon, white suckers, flannelmouth suckers and “cut-bow,” a cutthroat-rainbow trout hybrid, and turned them over to the state health department. As before, the findings show that warmwater, predatory fish including smallmouth bass, northern pike and walleyes have elevated levels of mercury in their tissues. Coldwater fish such as trout and salmon don’t have enough of the toxic element to pose a health risk, Japhet said.

“We have now sampled 56 bodies of water around the state, and generally what they’re finding is the only fish that have elevated levels sufficient to cause public health advisories are the warmwater predatory fish,” he said. Machado agreed. “I have not found any trout to be of concern, which is good news for the anglers.”

McPhee has bass but no northern pike or walleye. Those fish do live in Narraguinnep.

Advisories for northern pike and walleye were posted for the first time at Vallecito Reservoir east of Durango this summer. Navajo Reservoir near the New Mexico border is also under advisory; so are portions of the San Juan River; Lake Farmington , N.M.; and a handful of lakes in northern Arizona.

Colorado’s old advisories, which had a complicated system ranking each type of fish, are being replaced by a simpler system, Japhet said.

But the basic message will be the same: Pregnant or nursing women, women who plan to become pregnant, and children 6 or younger should not eat too much of certain types of fish. For instance, the Vallecito advisory says people in those groups should not eat any walleye larger than 18 inches, period.

“It’s mostly a matter of people using common sense,” Japhet said. “People should heed the advisories, but I don’t know of too many people subsisting on the fish they catch from McPhee.”

Mercury is a naturally occurring element, but too much can cause serious damage to the body, particularly the nervous system and kidneys. Fetuses, infants and young children are at special risk; exposure can cause learning deficits and developmental disorders.

A 2004 study by the Environmental Protection Agency estimated that more than 630,000 babies are born in the U.S. each year with elevated mercury levels, and as many as 1 in every 6 women may have enough mercury in their blood to harm a fetus.

Where does the mercury come from? Mercury is not being created or destroyed, but it can be released into the environment through different processes. The largest source is coalfired power plants. When coal is burned, mercury is released. This airborne, inorganic mercury is essentially inert, and breathing it is believed to do little harm.

However, when the mercury lands in still water, bacteria change it into an organic form that can be absorbed by living things and is highly toxic. It’s consumed by micro-organisms in the water, which are then eaten by fish. Fish that eat other fish can accumulate high concentrations of mercury, particularly as they grow older and larger. The most common way for humans to be exposed to mercury is by eating contaminated fish, either freshwater or saltwater.

It’s difficult to say where the mercury in local reservoirs originated, Machado said. “Mercury comes from many sources,” she said. “Air deposition is definitely one source.” Leaching from old mines and contaminated soils upriver is another source.

Airborne mercury may drift hundreds or thousands of miles in the atmosphere, so it’s unclear how much regional power plants are to blame for local contamination.

But mercury pollution has become an issue in considering new power plants such as the proposed 1,500- megawatt Desert Rock plant on the Navajo reservation.

U.S. Rep. John Salazar (D-Colo.) has sent comments to the EPA regarding Desert Rock. In them, he expresses concern about mercury.

“Specifically how will the new plant affect existing problems with mercury contamination of reservoirs and lakes, especially those that serve as domestic water supplies?” Salazar stated.

“Recent studies by the United States Geological Survey have confirmed that the most likely source of mercury contamination of water bodies in Colorado is from coal fired plants in New Mexico. Given this fact, the release of more mercury into our air where it will then get into our water supplies is of grave concern to me.”

On March 15, 2005, EPA issued a federal rule to cap and reduce mercury emissions from coal-fired power plants. This “cap-and-trade” rule, when implemented, will cap total mercury, allowing dirtier power plants to buy the right to emit more mercury from plants that don’t pollute as much.

Published in November 2006

‘The Grand Problem’ absorbs Oaxaca, Mexico

Editor’s note: Phil Hall is traveling in Mexico and sent this report about political unrest in the southern state of Oaxaca. A few days after he sent it, a freelance journalist for Indymedia.com and two other people were killed in riots there, and at press time Mexican President Vicente Fox was sending in troops.

PEDESTRIANS IN OAXACA, MEXICO, WALK PAST A BURNED VEHICLE AND OTHER DEBRIS LEFT DURING PROTESTS.There are no police visible in downtown Oaxaca (Wa-ha-ka), Mexico. None. The city seems to function on a kind of automatic power. The buses run, the taxis run, people come and go. There is a protest going on, not only in the city of Oaxaca, but throughout the state.

The motorcycle in front of me, one of those pizza delivery bikes with a pizza box on back, always ridden by someone very young, dodges agilely between a truck tire and a manhole cover. The tire marks the edge of a large ditch, as though construction of a water main was under way and suddenly abandoned. There are piles of rubble everywhere: chunks of concrete, large rocks, trash, mounds of dirt. People pick their way through the debris, through the traffic.

The cyclist dodges right around a taxi, then takes the narrow lane around a bus. He rides with hips and shoulders; he is very quick. The quick and the dead.

On some streets cars are triple-parked. Sometimes the streets are very narrow, traffic backed up: five, six, 10 buses in a line. Everything is a fight for space, precious space. In many parts of the city whole neighborhoods are blockaded with buses across intersections, burned-out cars, whole blocks of sheet-metal roofing tied into place. The blockades are very effective. Five o’clock traffic is a zoo of unimaginable proportions. The tigers are out of the cages; the elephants are stampeding.

There is no school for Marc Anthony, 12, and his sister Veronica, 14. There is no school in the remote village of Ixtepeji in Oaxaca´s highlands; there is no school anywhere in the state of Oaxaca. There is no school for 1,300,000 students, according to the Oaxaca daily, Noticias.

The crisis, which Oaxaqueños call “The Grand Problem,” centered on conflicts over Gov. Ulises Ruiz Ortis´s education policies and a salary dispute. It all started in May, when teachers said that without a raise they´d go out on strike. On June 7 Oaxaca saw more than 120,000 people protesting against the government.

Then on June 14, more than 3,000 state police and special forces police using tear gas and weapons evicted teachers from the town square in Oaxaca where they had been staging a sit-in. The teachers retook the square within a few hours.

The strikes and unrest have been a regular part of life in Oaxaca for years, but this year’s seem considerably more serious. Unhappiness with Ortiz, who has been in office about a year, is intensifying.

In addition to higher salaries, the teachers want free textbooks and uniforms for students, plus better classrooms, but have been told the money isn’t available.

The Mexican government has been cutting funding for public schools in a push to privatize education. Meanwhile, Ruiz plunged ahead with expensive renovation projects in the area and spent money on political campaigning.

I talked to one of the teachers in Oaxaca’s zócalo (town square): Clemente Antonio-Hernandez. “We went to the governor with our concerns,” he said. “He did not show us any respect.” Ruiz flatly refused the raise; the teachers, with a great deal of community support, especially in the rural areas, went on strike.

A teachers’ union spokesman, Ezequiel Rosales, said about 60 percent of members had voted this week to end the strike. Protesters want Ruiz removed from office. But Rosales added that the union would not agree on a return date until it had received guarantees from the Mexican government, including security for returning teachers.

However, other protesters are reported to have said they will continue in their efforts to unseat Ruiz.

This is a weekend, which means that Adriana, Marc Anthony and Veronica´s aunt, a dentist in Oaxaca, will be up here in the mountains operating a makeshift clinic where she provides dental care for the community. Adriana and I make the 10-kilometer ride from her parents´ house on my motorcycle. She´s never been on a motorcycle before. The last six kilometers are over a crushed-rock road. It´s a breeze. My bike loves that kind of thing.

While I waited for Adriana I gave English lessons to the two young people. Basic, but necessary stuff: alphabet, numbers, vocabulary, pronunciation. They have no basic English skills. There is no Internet in this community, there are few telephones, the only computers are at the school and the school is closed. Nevertheless, these Mexican kids, like Mexican kids I met everywhere I traveled, want to learn English.

Noticias carries daily stories about the Grand Problem. Oaxaca seems consumed with it. I was up in the pueblo of Ixtlan this morning. Teachers were organizing a protest and driving a caravan to Oaxaca, an hour away.

In central Oaxaca, the streets are crowded with burned-out hulks of cars and buses parked sideways across intersections. There were places where I had to ride my bike on the sidewalk. Graffiti is everywhere. Hardly a building in the city center is without graffiti; it is painted on the taxis, the buses. There are placards and signs on all of the buildings.

“There will be no peace until Oaxaca Governor Ulises Ruiz resigns,” one protest organizer said at a rally in the city´s zocolo. They are calling Ulises Ruiz a Nazi and comparing him to Hitler.

Ruiz called on the federal government for help, but the crisis fell in the middle of Mexico´s highly-contested and hotly-debated presidential election. There was, for a time, a shutdown of Mexico´s government.

There has been no cessation of the struggle here in Oaxaca. Despite threats and intimidation, even after five months, passions run high.

“As long as we have breath, we will fight,” one of the teachers said.

Meanwhile, Ruiz has intensified his efforts to force a compromise. Recently the government shut off water supplies to 150 families of protestors in one neighborhood here in Oaxaca.

Catholic Cardinal Norberto River said, “Without classes, Oaxaca doesn´t have a future.” He insisted in a petition that students return to school. He said, “Classes are absolutely indespensible to Oaxaca´s future.”

Although the final tallies are not in from the rural areas, an election was held to decide if teachers will return to school. There is no evidence in Oaxaca´s city center that protestors have slackened their pace or their grip on the zócalo.

Protests and speeches go into the night and apparently will continue until the battle is won or lost.


Published in November 2006

A counterpoint to my opponent’s assertions

SHERIFF GERALD WALLACEThe Nov. 7 General Election is quickly approaching and I want to take this opportunity to address comments made by my opponent, Sam Sparks, in his Oct. 7 candidate column in the Cortez Journal. My opponent stated his campaign planks: 1) an aggressive drug program, 2) reopening the community corrections program, 3) reviving the reserve officer program and 4) bringing back an animal control/agricultural officer.

1) The drug problem my opponent talks about is one of the most difficult issues our community faces today. As your sheriff, I am committed to fighting the manufacture, selling and use of illegal drugs. We currently have in place the 22nd Judicial Drug Task Force. We have made great strides on the state and federal level this year in keeping the task force financially alive. While grant funding has been going down over the past several years and is being reduced significantly this year due to the federal government’s continued expenses with the hurricane disasters in the Gulf, as well as the continued expenses outside of the country, we have worked hard to be articulate and accurate when applying for these reduced funds.

As a board member of the Drug Task force, I have been actively involved in getting Montezuma County listed as a Federal Methamphetamine Hot Spot – a designation which will put us in a position to receive additional federal funding in fiscal year 2007. We are also in process to receive a HIDA (High Intensity Drug Activity) designation which will put us in a position to receive additional state funding. As one of the leaders of the task force, I am committed to increasing the performance of the task force and its work in our judicial district.

I am also committed to working closely with the community and advocacy groups to help alleviate the drug problem. One of the ways we currently work with the community is through the schools. My opponent states that he would put a school resource officer in the Dolores and Mancos schools. We already have a school resource officer (SRO) serving the Dolores schools. Deputy Hughes, the current SRO, is in the Dolores Schools every school day and also teaches at the Mancos School.

This position was originally funded through a grant which expired several years ago. Because of the positive results of having a deputy assigned specifically to the schools, the county commissioners and I have continued to allocate funding to keep the position alive. I believe that the SRO’s interaction with the students, faculty and family has been, and will continue to be, a key factor in reducing the amount of narcotics, alcohol and bullying problems within the schools.

2) Community Corrections is a subject that keeps being raised. When I stepped in as sheriff, the program expenses were over budget and there was a large shortfall with the income – it was losing money to the tune of $12,000-$15,000 per month. There was no money available in the county budget to make up this loss and I was not going to cut law enforcement services to the community to fund Community Corrections.

In discussions with Ed Camp, the Colorado State Director of Community Corrections, he stated that his department was not willing or able to give our facility the necessary number of clients and state funding to make up the shortfall of dollars. (The 2005 budget, put together by my predecessor, projected income that was far in excess of the contract amount that the state committed to the county in a signed contract in August of 2004.)

Knowing we would not get any additional state funding, we then looked regionally to see if any private entity, already involved in operating community correction facilities would step forward to take over the program. But after talks and site visits combined with huge incentives of a very minimal rent on the building space, all the groups said it was a losing proposition. With no way to fund the losses the commissioners decided to close the facility.

FYI — we still have a ComCor program for our local offenders. This is a pass-through program administered by the probation department. This contract pays to house parolees in other areas and is at no cost to our county.

3) My opponent states that he will revive the reserve officer program, but the reserve officer program is already in place. These certified reserve officers commit a minimum of 10 hours per month to the agency and must first pass an approximately 160-hour certification course to become (reserve) POST certified. We currently have eight certified reserve officers and they assist us in court security and with special functions.

I have started another volunteer program to assist us in emergency /disaster situations. These 20-plus volunteers are not required to be certified officers, but are trained in what to do to help in the case of a disaster. They meet with the County Emergency Manager and me every 5 to 6 weeks. We are grateful for all these volunteers – we hope if you get a chance to meet one of them you will give them a big Thank You. And if you have an interest in becoming a volunteer, please give me a call.

4) My opponent’s suggestions about an animal control officer have some valid points, but he fails to mention that there is no current income available to offset the expenses of this position. I am not opposed to a county animal control program if we are able to adopt county ordinances that raise the funding for offsetting those associated costs. However, you need to put the horse before the cart and solidify the funding before incurring the expense.

Until that time, each and every deputy responds to animal concerns as a matter of regular calls for service. We work closely with Dr. Shane Cole from the Montezuma Veterinary Clinic, who is our animal advisor, as well as with Joe Stevensen, who is the brand inspector. Lt. Martin also works closely with Gary Shoun of the state brand commission. We are also moving forward with our “Ranch-Watch” program and we will have signs available to purchase, at our cost, in the near future. This program advises would-be thieves and other trespassers that the farms and ranches are patrolled by deputies and that local ranchers are keeping an eye out for illegal activity.

Very briefly, I would also like to address some comments my opponent made in the October Free Press. I have not been a party to pursuing, prosecuting or investigating my opponent, during his current series of legal actions. Both my wife and I have enjoyed getting to know Sam and his wife throughout this political process (remember the corn shucking?). I do not have power over the Colorado Bureau of Investigation, which is investigating my opponent, nor do I have power over the DA’s office, whose decision it is to file and prosecute on his charges. Finally, I certainly do not have power over the judge who censored my opponent for his testimony. The reality is we are all responsible for our own actions and it will be up to the jury when his case(s) go to court after the election.

My core beliefs have not changed since my first day as your sheriff some 19 months ago and those beliefs are integrity, accountability and a commitment to community. Part of that commitment is not promising programs that we are unable to implement.

Our agency has 55 employees and our expenditure budget is $3.1 million. Our inmate count reached a high of 135 people this summer with a capacity on paper of 110. We currently respond to calls for service that arise at a moment’s notice and run the gamut from traffic infractions to homicides.

How we handle those calls is paramount. I demand a professional and courteous response from my deputies, and I expect an even higher level from myself. I have told my staff that all you have as a deputy is your integrity, which is measured by what you do, how you handle yourself and others, how you articulate your reports and how you represent the agency in court.

As we work through the challenges ahead with more people moving to the county, more calls for service and a higher inmate population, all on a flat income stream, we need a sheriff who not only understands those fiscal challenges but who has the ability, the respect, and the desire to work with the community, for the community. My opponent is correct that we are at a crossroads in the county and I urge you to check the facts of both my opponent and myself. Ask other law enforcement officers, elected officials and those who have worked with both me and my opponent who they believe can do the job best. Remember to vote on Nov. 7 and I ask for your vote to keep the positive course we are now moving in.

Thank you.

Published in Election, November 2006

$2 million settlement ends stalemate: Squabbles over Cortez’s new sewage plant prove costly

Years late and many dollars short, a new sewage system serving the greater Cortez area finally came on-line last fall, but costly legal wrangling continued for another year, finally creaking to a halt in August with an out-of-court settlement nestled cozily atop of a mountain of attorney’s bills.

Under the agreement, the Cortez Sanitation District will make a lumpsum payment of $1.35 million to RMCI, the original general contractor that sued the district and walked off the project two years ago, and will make three additional payments to RMCI of about $220,000 over the next three years.

Jay Conner, who replaced former sanitation district manager Bill Smith in 2001 following a storm of controversy in the district, was not part of the new board’s decisions to fight the construction company, nor to ultimately resolve the case.

However, he said he believes the settlement was in the best interests of the district.

“If a person sat down and put a pencil to it, you could probably figure the $2 million settlement, plus all the legal fees and stuff of that nature — I wouldn’t be overly shy about saying about $3 million” will be paid out by the district under the agreement, said Conner, although part of that — $750,000 — is being paid by the insurance of the project engineer.

“The one thing I would like to stress is that the facts in this case are really, really important,” Conner said. “If the facts are just a little bit off it can make the sanitation district look really bad.

“The contractor, if you look at the claims in the court documents they filed, they were claiming $6.7 million in damages,” he said, “and the district settled it for $2 million, so in reality we saved a lot of money by settling it.

“It’s my opinion that it could have been a whole lot worse.”

Still, residents of the Cortez Sanitation District may be facing a hefty mill-levy increase to pay the construction company the final installments of the settlement, although Harold Foster — appointed chair of the board of directors after former chairman Bob Diederich resigned in protest over the approval of the settlement — said he doesn’t believe there will need to be a mill-levy increase to pay the first installment, at least.

“No, I don’t,” he said. “We’re going to cut corners [and] keep the mill levy down at all costs,” Foster said. “I know in the first year we won’t have to [increase the property tax] — I can tell you that.”

Delays and squabbling

The Cortez Sanitation District in recent years has seen more controversy than most special districts ever do. In 2001, publicity over the district’s

policy of digging up and severing the sewer lines of deliquent customers — and charging them $500 to reconnect — triggered a contentious recall election that unseated three district board members.

Then-manager Smith was also widely criticized for what developers and others who worked with the district saw as arrogant and high-handed policies.

When the new board was sworn in, a honeymoon period resulted, but didn’t last long.

The project to expand and upgrade the aging sewage system got off to a positive enough start after sanitationdistrict voters handily approved a bond issue to pay for the $10 million plant in 2000. The design was developed by Richard Arber Associates and the construction contract successfully bid by RMCI, Inc. of Colorado, shortly thereafter.

But the actual construction, which got under way in January 2003, soon was plagued by delays and mired in squabbling and lawsuits that continued until last August.

RMCI sued the district and Richard P. Arber Associates, the engineering firm that designed the new plant, after excavations revealed what RMCI said were unexpected soil conditions. A “severe slope failure” occurred during excavation of the aereation basins, the complaint states, and the district refused to authorize change orders for the extra work and costs necessary to shore up the basins.

RMCI alleged it had been supplied a flawed soil study done for Arber and had based its $10 million bid on that data. Arber advised the board not to approve the change orders, and the impasse resulted in the initial claim being filed in district court and ultimately construction work being halted altogether. The district then rebid the remainder of the work and it was completed by Southwest Contracting.

After RMCI’s initial lawsuits, filed in the summer of 2004, more complaints, claims, counter-claims, depositions, affidavits and motions sprouted like mushrooms on a cowpie, ultimately filling six files — each about two inches thick — in the district court clerks’s office.

In turn, the district hired a Denver law firm to countersue RMCI for breach of contract; then, after RMCI dropped its c o m p l a i n t against Arber because of a state supreme court decision, the district also filed a countersuit against Arber to possibly recoup some of the damages in the event RMCI prevailed. Peripheral issues in the lawsuits went from accusations by RMCI of almost embarrassingly puerile behavior — such as an Arber engineer mocking Native American employees by doing rain dances, a charge denied by Arber — to petty quibbling over the matter of RMCI inspecting the progress of the work in completing the project, which had been rebid to Southwest Contracting.

For instance, RMCI complained in one filing to the court that the sanitation district had used “disingenous and noncommittal” language in a lengthy written agreement intended to grant RMCI access during daylight hours to the work site. RMCI objected to the district’s language that it would make “every effort to allow inspection during daylight hours.”

A related issue was whether Conner could accompany the RMCI inspectors and, if so, who would pay for his time. The district claimed it was essential that Conner be present and that RMCI compensate him, since this would be outside the normal functions of his duties.

RMCI argued that Conner would get in the way and they didn’t want him underfoot.

Such issues only added to the time and expense it took to reach resolution, however, since they were not addressed in the final outcome.

A divided board

The various legal actions were finally coming to a head, with the trial set for last summer, when a second attempt to negotiate an agreement among the three warring parties by a professional arbiter (an earlier negotiation had been unsuccessful) was conducted in August, and the district’s board approved an out-of-court settlement in a divided 3-2 vote that led Diederich to resign.

Diederich said he’d very much wanted to pursue the countersuit the district had filed in response to RMCI’s legal action and was confident it would have prevailed.

“The contractor had the responsibility of familiarizing themselves with the soils and everything before they bid the contract,” he said. “The responsibility was theirs and apparently it [the soil condition] was a surprise to them.” He said the soil study supplied by an Arber subcontractor, Western Technologies, was only “advisory.”

“It was still the contractor’s responsibility to build the project as presented,” he said. “If they questioned the soils, they should have done further tests before they bid.”

As far as refusing the change orders on the aereation basins, Diederich said RMCI “had other options on the shoring and all that — they just didn’t pursue them.”

Diederich said “probably nothing” could have been done differently to prevent the imbroglio.

Conner declined to comment on whether the conflict could have been handled better in the early stages to head off the protracted legal battle. He said he believed the settlement was a good move.

Conner said so far the district has paid more than $300,000 to the Denver law firm that represented the district in the legal morass along with local attorney Kent Williamson.

“My personal feeling is that it was a good thing to go ahead and settle it, because the cost of litigation and the cost of continued fighting was just going to get astronomical,” Conner said.

‘Hard-fought, acrimonious’

Mark Gruskin, the district’s Denverbased attorney handling the lawsuits, agreed.

“[The district] gained the certainty of a settlement and it eliminated the risk of a judgment that would have been far greater — RMCI’s claims were for millions of dollars more than what the district ended up paying,” Gruskin said. “Likewise, the district received a substantial amount of money from [the engineer’s] insurance company.

“What you have to understand is that it was a $1 million policy, but under its terms every dollar spent to defend Arber was a dollar less available to provide coverage,” he said. Under the agreement Arber’s insurer will pay $750,000, which would indicate its attorneys charged fees of about $250,000.

After RMCI dropped its separate suit against Arber, the district filed its own claim against Arber, to recover some of the costs from the engineering firm if RMCI’s claim prevailed.

“We could have gone through a fiveor six-week trial and prevailed against Arber, but there would have been far less available to the district to recover from,” Gruskin said.

Gruskin said a trial would have cost the district not only for legal fees, but for expert witnesses and other expenses. Beyond that, he said, whatever the outcome, there likely would have been an expensive and time-consuming appeal.

As is common with out-of-court settlements, none of the parties admit any liability in the matter, and a “non-disparagement” clause prohibits any of the parties from fingerpointing at one another.

“The disputes leading up to the settlement agreement have been hard-fought, acrimonious at times, and hotly contested,” the agreement states, adding that the agreement is simply a compromise under which no one “prevailed” or was found at fault.

‘Go back to living’

Foster, a retired contractor who used to build sewage-treatment plants, was reluctant to criticize the way the board had handled the issues with the contractor, which began before he was appointed to the board.

“If I would have been chairman at the time I think there would have been some differences, but I don’t want to bat anybody down,” he said. “I felt like it should have been negotiated a year and a half ago, personally.

“I don’t know if there could have been a settlement, but it should have been tried then, not 18 months later.”

Foster said the delays in the project cost the district in other ways.

“Timewise it hurt us — we lost a lot of revenue because the project was a year and a half behind,” he said.

When the court granted RMCI the right to have inspectors sent to watch the replacement contractor fiinish the work, Foster said, this cost over $200,000 over the final year of the project.

But he expressed hope that the controversy- plagued district could finally get back to business.

“We figured it would be a whole lot easier to settle it now and get it over with and let everybody go back to living the way they were.”

Published in November 2006

A hazy future for the Four Corners? Concerns about a new power plant are igniting a furor over regional air quality

Anthony Lee, a middle-aged man, stood nervously before a microphone in the cavernous interior of the Shiprock, N.M., High School auditorium on Oct. 4.

On the stage sat officials with the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, hearing public comments about the proposed Desert Rock power plant. The EPA reps had asked speakers to tell who they were representing. “I represent my kids, my grandkids, my great-great-grandkids and so on down the road,” Lee said clearly. Then he spoke about the haze that hangs over the Four Corners.

“When I was 8 or 9, I went to the La Plata Mountains hunting with my grandfather,” Lee said. “I could see Ship Rock [the formation], the mountains behind us, the Chuskas, all over.”

That was some 40 years ago. Recently he went back, and everything looked different. “You can barely see Ship Rock. You can barely see the mountains. It’s just so ugly,” he said. “It’s hard to describe what it was like 40 years ago and what it is now. It looks ugly, period,” he repeated.

Lee said he complained to the Navajo tribal government, but that they are like “a jackass with a carrot” when it comes to the proposed power plant. “They more or less took this out of greed,” he charged.

He likened the Desert Rock proposal to the rosy benefits that were supposed to come with uranium-mining decades ago.

“We were promised the same thing with this uranium, but a lot of us paid dearly,” he said, his voice breaking. “I was one of those, with my father gone. And I believe this power plant is going to have the same effect on our grandkids farther down the road. The U.S. government better have some money put aside if any respiratory problems arise.

“I oppose this project 125 percent — 200 percent,” he said. “I like to see the reservation clean. I like to see the Four Corners clean.”

Lee was one of about a dozen people who spoke that afternoon at the first of two public hearings held in the town of Shiprock regarding the EPA’s draft air-quality permit for the Desert Rock plant. Most speakers opposed the new, $2 billion, coal-fired plant.

To be operated by Houston-based Sithe Global Power LLC, the 1,500- megawatt plant is proposed for land on the Navajo reservation some 25 miles southwest of Farmington. Navajo Nation President Joe Shirley Jr. has said he supports the project “in the strongest possible terms” because of its economic benefits.

But the power plant has become the trigger for an outpouring of concern about the Four Corners’ air quality. Nelson Lee Simms of the Navajos’ Nenahnezad Chapter told the EPA he lives just a few miles from the San Juan Generating Station and Four Corners Power Plant in San Juan County, N.M. “We already have two smoke dragons,” he said, adding that one day his children might blame the Navajo tribe “for steam-cooking everybody” through greenhouse gases.

“The Navajo [council] delegates don’t listen to us,” he said. “They’re all cronies. We say, try something else. There’s wind power. It doesn’t cause smoke.

“You’re our last hope,” he told the EPA officials.

The final straw?

The furor over Desert Rock is in some ways curious, because the new plant clearly would be cleaner than those already in the area.

The 1,800-megawatt San Juan Generating Station near Waterflow, N.M., and the 2,040-megawatt Four Corners Power Plant near Fruitland, N.M., are among the nation’s worst polluters. The latter was ranked first in the nation by a D.C.-based environmental group for nitrogen-oxide emissions in 2004. Together they spew 67,000 tons of nitrogen oxide and 37,000 tons of sulfur dioxide into the atmosphere annually. By contrast, Desert Rock would emit 3,500 tons of each pollutant, according to Sithe officials.

But while the tribe’s leadership has embraced the proposed plant and the economic boost it would provide, many Navajos and non-Najavos alike see it as a straw with the potential to break the camel’s back in terms of the region’s air quality. They believe air in the Four Corners needs to be fiercely protected from looming threats posed by more cars, more power plants and a huge increase in the number of natural- gas wells in the San Juan Basin. Managing overall air quality in the region is complicated by the fact there are many different jurisdictions involved — four states; three Indian tribes; BLM, national-forest and National Park Service lands; and numerous counties and cities.

The Four Corners falls under three different regions of the EPA, points out Mary Lou Asbury of Cortez. New Mexico is in Region 6, which has a Dallas office; Arizona and the Navajo reservation lie in Region 9, based in San Francisco; and Utah and Colorado are in Region 8, headquartered in Denver.

Asbury and the League of Women Voters, of which she is a member, have been badgering area politicians and agency officials for more air-quality monitoring sites throughout the region and better emissions controls. The league takes no stand on the Desert Rock permit.

“I think if we don’t get very strict standards and the best available control technology on the power plants that are being built, the air quality in the area can only diminish,” Asbury said.

She noted that yet another plant, a 300-megawatt facility near Chaco Canyon, N.M., is in the works, too. However, she said, she’s cautiously optimistic because of increasing concern about air quality, the formation a year ago of a Four Corners Air Quality Task Force, and pending efforts to clean up existing plants. Public Service Company of New Mexico is investing $270 million in new technology to cut emissions at its San Juan plant.

The Sierra Club, Grand Canyon Trust and New Mexico Environment Department had sued the company in 2002 for violations of the Clean Air Act. A settlement agreement was reached in 2005.

The new processes the company will implement are expected to cut emissions of nitrogen oxide by 35 percent, sulfur dioxide by 65 percent, particulates by 70 percent and mercury by 75 percent.

And, also in response to a Sierra Club lawsuit, the EPA is proposing Federal Implementation Plans to regulate emissions from the Four Corners Power Plant, as well as the Navajo Generating Station near Page, Ariz. The proposed FIPs will set limits on emissions of nitrogen oxide, sulfur dioxide, and particulates — though not on carbon dioxide or mercury.

Those two plants had been operating essentially without regulations because they are on reservation land and it was unclear who had jurisdiction over them. Eventually it was decided that the EPA would set rules and the Navajo Nation’s own EPA will administer them.

But despite the clean-up of the old plants, the debate rages over Desert Rock. Can the region bear another large power plant?

Good news, bad news

According to one EPA official, it can. Colleen McKaughan of Region 9 was quoted in the Durango Herald as saying that the region’s air is clean enough to absorb more pollution. McKaughan did not return a phone call from the Free Press.

In issuing its draft permit for Desert Rock, the EPA found that the proposed plant would not push pollution in the area higher than federal standards. Levels of nitrogen oxide and sulfur dioxide — two major pollutants from power plants, and contributors to acid rain — fall within normal limits in the Four Corners, experts say. Likewise, particulates — fine parti- cles produced by power plants, diesel vehicles and fuel-burning — fall within standards.

But the Four Corners is pushing the limit on ozone, a gas that is linked to respiratory conditions such as asthma. Ozone is created through the interaction of nitrogen oxide, volatile organic compounds (VOCs), and sunlight. Power plants aren’t the only emitters of VOCs and nitrogen oxide — oil and gas wells and motor vehicles all contribute to the problem.

Ozone levels in the area generally stay under the federal standard of 85 parts per billion, the level at which significant health effects may occur, but sometimes spike above that. The three-year average at monitoring sites in northwestern New Mexico is around 76 ppb. The levels in Southwest Colorado are generally only about 20 percent lower than those of Denver, despite its much-higher population.

In 2000, ozone levels in northwestern New Mexico surged higher than anywhere else in the state, prompting the New Mexico Environment Department to enter into an Early Action Compact with the EPA, San Juan County, and three cities to implement a plan to improve air quality.

Another pollutant of concern is mercury, a toxic element released when coal is burned. Mercury is monitored at Mesa Verde National Park, both for wet deposition (precipitation) and dry. Wet-deposition amounts are relatively low because the park is in arid country. However, concentrations of mercury in rainfall are among the highest in the nation, according to a draft report by the Four Corners Air Quality Task Force.

Desert Rock’s mercury emission would be much lower than the existing plants’ — measured in pounds vs. tons, Maisano said.

But Mike Eisenfeld of the San Juan Citizens Alliance, an environmental group, said that may not help the overall picture much. Under the Bush administration’s new mercury rules, dirtier power plants can “buy” the right to pollute more from plants that pollute less.

“Four Corners and San Juan [plants] emitted over 2,000 tons of mercury in 2001,” he said. “Do they go to the Navajo Nation and broker a deal” so they can keep emitting high levels because Desert Rock’s are low? he asked.

‘That’s genocidal’

Lori Goodman of Diné Citizens Against Ruining our Environment, a grassroots environmental group, believes Navajos have already been harmed by exposure to pollutants from power plants. At the Shiprock hearing, she told the EPA officials, “You’re adding insult to injury by saying the air is clean enough for another power plant.”

Goodman said the Desert Rock proposal violates the intent of Executive Order 12898, issued by President Clinton in 1994, which was designed to ensure that low-income and minority communites don’t suffer disproportionately from the adverse impacts of federal projects. She said all the communities surrounding the power plant are below poverty level.

“To put another power plant in here — that’s genocidal,” she said.

Goodman gave out flyers saying the Navajo Nation exports 1,200 percent more power than it consumes; that nearly one-third of Navajo homes don’t have electricity; and that the power plant would use 4,500 acre-feet of water per year, while Navajo families hauling water would pay a rate 30 times higher for water than that paid by the plant.

‘A wealth of revenue’

“Obviously we understand the concerns of the community,” said Frank Maisono, spokesman for Sithe Global. “We understand there are concerns about previous facilities. We’re going to do everything we can to have one of the state-of-the-art environmental facilities for coal-burning plants.

“But people in the Four Corners, especially those on the Navajo Nation, have to understand this is an immense economic-development project for the Navajo Nation. It means a wealth of revenue, resources, tax money and job opportunities.”

The plant would create an estimated 1,000 jobs during construction and 200 permanent jobs when built, proponents say, with Native Americans given preference in hiring. Another 200 jobs would be created at BHP Billiton’s Navajo Mine, the coal source. Payments to the Navajo Nation over the first 25 years would be approximately $50 million annually in coal royalties, taxes and water payments. The tribe can opt to become an equity partner with Sithe and own 25 percent of the plant.

In addition, more electricity is needed, Maisano said. “We have a massive need for new power in the region. We’re doing this in the most environmentally responsible way we can.”

Demand for electricity has doubled in San Juan County, N.M., since 1996, the Farmington Daily Times reported recently. Much of the increase comes from oil and gas development, with compressor stations and well-site motors all requiring electricity. None of the power created by Desert Rock would go to the Navajos. Instead, it would feed the needs of other customers in New Mexico, Arizona, California and Nevada.

The Navajo tribal council voted 66-7 in May 2006 to approve a 50-year lease agreement with Sithe and the tribe’s Diné Power authority to build the plant.

‘Worse than terrorism’

But, clearly, not all Navajos want to see Desert Rock constructed. Members of Diné CARE insist there is inadequate health care already on the reservation, respiratory illnesses such as asthma are rampant, and Desert Rock would only worsen the situation.

Sarah White of Diné CARE said she visited every home in the vicinity of the Four Corners power plant, seeking signatures on a petition opposing Desert Rock. “It seems like every home that I have visited, somebody has a health problem. Lung, heart, kidney disease and joint disease. It all comes from the power plant.”

For two years Diné CARE has been asking the Indian Health Service for indepth health studies of people near the power plants, but to no avail, White said.

She said she has lived “right underneath” the Four Corners plant since it was built some 40 years ago, and she has severe asthma for which she takes steroids. “My son has asthma, my granddaughter has asthma and my other grandson was diagnosed a couple months ago,” she said. “I know about 20 people that have asthma.” Goodman said pollution — particularly mercury — may cause other ailments as well.

“The kids at Ojo Amarillo, near Napi, [N.M.] — there’s lots of kids that have autisum from the mercury. There are no studies of these health impacts,” Goodman said. “We need baseline health data.”

“It’s just so sad,” said Andy Bessler, regional representative for the Sierra Club in Flagstaff, Ariz. “Folks in the San Juan Basin are really suffering. The air is killing people. I’d say it’s worse than terrorism in terms of the amount of deaths. How can we do energy without killing people? That’s what we’ve got to figure out.”

Eisenfeld of the San Juan Citizens Alliance supports the call for further health studies. In written comments to the EPA, he said, “Public health has not been properly evaluated or secured for citizens of the Four Corners region in regards to air pollution. High incidences of asthma and other respiratory illnesses are prevalent in the Four Corners region.”

He called for a health analysis of the communities near the San Juan and Four Corners power plants and the proposed Desert Rock plant, examining asthma levels by age group and ethnic background, ER visits in correlation with daily air quality, and regional levels of autism, cancer and stroke compared to other areas.

Protecting vistas

But many area residents are also deeply concerned with something less tangible: beauty. They have a passionate desire to retain the clean, stunning vistas for which the region is known, the soaring views of mesas and canyonlands that are increasingly disappearing under a vague haze.

Visibility is considered the most sensitive air-quality concern at Mesa Verde, though the park also monitors acid rain, particulates, and mercury, according to information on the Internet. Mesa Verde’s public information officer did not return a phone call from the Free Press. The park’s web site says visibility is “degrading significantly on the worst visibility days,” according to an analysis of 1990-1999 data. However, the report also says visibility at Mesa Verde is as good as or better than most other national parks. Mesa Verde is a Class I area under the Clean Air Act, meaning it has highest priority for protection from pollution.

The EPA cannot consider emotional appeals when making its decision on the air-quality permit for Desert Rock, said Robert Baker, an environmental engineeer with the agency’s Region 9 San Francisco office.

“To really hope to influence the permit, you need either a legal or scientific comment,” said Baker, who as of Oct. 25 had received around 60 comments and was anticipating more. “The emotional ones are most valuable for weighing public interest.”

To get the conditions of the permit changed or the permit denied, people have to show that the EPA made an error in its analysis, such as doing its modeling incorrectly or failing to include key pollution sources.

But Baker said he does not blame people for being concerned about future air quality in the Four Corners.

“People are upset by the degradation of visibility and I don’t blame them, because it’s beautiful country,” he said. “And lord knows those existing power plants are not helping things, but we have really pulled their emissions down.”

He said the EPA’s final decision on the air-quality permit, and then on a separate Environmental Impact Statement for the plant, will take into account factors such as the existing oil and gas wells that pockmark the 7,800- square-mile San Juan Basin in Colorado and New Mexico. Such wells and compressors emit nitrogen oxide (an estimated 29,000 tons per year in San Juan County), particulates, carbon monoxide and VOCs (an estimated 6,900 tons).

“We are including monitored ambient air quality, which is catching the existing facilities out there, but as minor sources that aren’t normally specifically included in the model. It’s caught as part of the monitored ambient air quality,” Baker said.

However, he said, the analysis does not take into account the impacts of future wells. The BLM has authorized some 10,000 new wells, mostly for natural gas, in the San Juan Basin.

“One thing we also don’t catch is increasing population — more people, cars, more wood stoves,” Baker said.

A better future?

Still, the Sierra Club’s Bessler is hopeful the future can be better. “Based on what I’ve seen with Desert Rock and the Four Corners [power plant] EPA processes, I’d say things are looking really good,” Bessler said. “The EPA is taking it seriously. I’m optimistic.”

But, Bessler added, much depends on finding cleaner, alternative energy sources and promoting energy conservation. Eisenfeld agrees. “For us to be in the year 2006 with 154 coal-fired power plants proposed across the country is ridiculous,” he said.

Published in November 2006

God, mammon now on speaking terms

Martin Luther must be spinning in his grave. The dyspeptic monk who excoriated the Catholic Church for its advertising jingle — “when a coin inside the coffer rings, a soul from Purgatory springs” — would doubtless take a dim view of the indulgence’s modern equivalent.

OK. So the likes of “Reverend Dollar” and the Heritage Foundation’s Bishop Dennis Leonard aren’t going so far as to tell their followers they can buy their way out of hell. But they do come perilously close when they advance the idea that God wants you to be wealthy. And not just “blessed,” or rich in friends, family and good health, but the my-wallet-runnethover- with-cold-hard-cash kind of wealthy.

Televangelist Creflo Dollar heads up World Changers Church in New York. He and Leonard, who was the subject of a Denver Post expose last month, are proselytizers of the “prosperity gospel.” With cargo cult-like fervor, they preach God will bless everyone materially if only everyone is willing to give enough.

They sort of ignored scriptures that contradict the notion. Like the whole bit where Jesus drives money-changers and vendors out of His father’s temple. Or that part about choosing between God and mammon because ya just can’t serve both. Then there’s this oldie-butgoodie, the oft-misquoted: “The love of money is the root of all evil.” Secular wisdom is also appropriate here: “You can’t take it with you when you go.”

Thus, another disturbing element to the prosperity gospel. If Dollar is preaching the getting and keeping of wealth on earth is important, how are his followers going to be able to let go of such attachments long enough to be spiritually fulfilled? He told the New York Times that he’s got that one covered. Prosperity, he of the million-dollar home and fleet of luxury cars piously insisted, is not just about money.

Perhaps he should’ve insisted a little louder. The NYT profiled a couple from his church, regular tithers, who gave even though they weren’t able to buy food. It was friends and neighbors, not Dollar, who came through with food and winter coats. The couple saw this as proof, not just of God’s mercy in the wake of their own stupid (yes, stupid) decisions, but as proof that Dollar’s “prosperity gospel” is right. They remain confident, not in the goodness of humankind, but that they will become materially wealthy. Some day.

Leonard’s flock seems to be of the same mind. Though in October he told church members there’s no pressure to tithe and not everyone will get rich, they told him in a poll that “not tithing” was one of the top two sins in their lives. That’s hardly surprising when, according to the Denver Post story, he preached in 2005 “…after the test comes the testimony. You can’t have the ‘mony’ without the ‘test.’ You can’t have the money without passing the tithes and offerings test.”

If the Post report is correct, it’s this message some people take to heart, tithing even their unemployment checks. After all, tithes support the church’s charitable works, like the good bishop’s Rolex collection — I mean, the rent assistance for lowincome parishioners! So, essentially, the people most in need of charity are funding those same charities. Imminently sensible — if you’re the sort who defines “sensible” the same way I define “shell game.”

Now, there is a biblical basis for tithing, and the Good Book also says “cast your bread upon the waters and it will come back a hundredfold.” Thing is, by “bread,” God did not mean bread. He meant you get what you give; that the act of giving will enrich you in many ways, none of which can be measured by the dollar. Or Dollar.

Down at Leonard’s church, not even the symbolism is subtle. Just what are we to think of a church that has an ATM in the lobby and a cross that spells out “JESUS SAVES” in neon? All hail St. Bling-Bling and the Church of the Holy Cash Register. Glory to God. Hallelujah. Amen, cha-ching.

Here’s hoping that all this is simply my failure to get the “real” message of Leonard and Dollar. But regardless my intellectual deficiencies, these two need to realize (assuming they’ve truly sinned in ignorance) that they are coming across as spiritual hucksters to everyone but the most credulous. And that harms Christianity more than “growing” a church by such means can help. If a convert is only in it for the money, it’s unlikely he’s experienced a true conversion — despite whatever financial suffering he inflicts on himself in order to obtain a bigger slice of pie.

Church is where we go to interact with like-minded believers. It is not where we go to learn how to swell the bank balance. If that’s what you want, try a financial seminar. If you — by whom I mean Dollar and Leonard — want God’s stamp of approval on your avarice, though, you’re out of luck. Avarice is one of the Seven Deadlies. I checked.

Katharhynn Heidelberg writes from Montrose.

Published in Katharhynn Heidelberg

Living in a tent (with 1 husband, 2 kids, and 3 pets)

Note: Living in tents while we build was my idea. I was not coerced at gunpoint. It was a great summer that we will neither forget nor regret. More than surviving, we enjoyed ourselves immensely. I have never once questioned our choice to do it.

With that said, there were a few ups and downs.

Pro: Spending every waking hour outside.
Con: Having nowhere to go when it’s too hot, too cold or pouring rain.

We had our fill of sunshine and fresh air — healthy in a way that only comes from good clean living — but that was when the weather cooperated. On days when the heat soared towards triple digits outside (inside, well beyond) we had nowhere to escape the sun. I often found myself lying face down on the hosed-off indoor/outdoor carpet, acutely aware that any movement would induce profuse sweating. Once, the neighbor child came over, found me thus, and asked if I was dead.

Guess his mom doesn’t do the corpse thing on their rugs.

On other days, when the temperatures dropped and the rains persisted we curled up in bed, hats on, sniffling (and sniveling) and awaited the arrival of Noah’s Ark.

Pro: Having very little house to clean, including a toilet.
Con: Having very little house, including a toilet.

Given that I m not much of a “house” wife, this did prove to be ideal. We only had 150 square feet to keep clean. That also meant that we only had 150 square feet in which to live, play, cook, dine and sleep.

We became very close.

Not having a real toilet is a mixed blessing. We do have a Porta-Potty, which thankfully someone else cleans. It has become the only place to escape from the others, so there is often a line, reminiscent of a music festival. Now that it has gotten cold there is also the issue of having to bundle up for the walk to the pot and the reality of a REALLY cold toilet seat to cope with.

Pro: Feeling very connected with the natural world.
Con: Not being able to escape the natural world: mud, ungodly winds and insects.

While feeling incredibly in tune with the rhythms of the natural world — birds migrating, fruit trees blossoming and the changing of the seasons — we have also shared the flip side of this, which has been what to do when the monsoons actually did arrive, creating rivers, lakes and mudslides (all inside the tents). Once, while I was babysitting 10 boys under the age of 9, it began to rain like I’ve been praying for, for years. While Tom and I dug diversion trenches, the children, inside the tents, had clothes off and were splashing in a waist-deep pool which had formed next to the table. Gotta love nature.

Along with the temperatures and the rains, there was THE WIND. I believe that the wind blows harder here than anywhere else on earth. We spent many a night battening down the hatches and literally holding up the tents with our bare hands. Only once, though, did one actually collapse.

The plague of insects took on Biblical proportions. The grasshoppers, clinging to the tent screens, our pillows and each other. The spiders that crawled across our faces while we slept, occasionally dropping into the open caverns of our snoring mouths. The earwigs — in our hair, food, bedside cups of water, clothes, sheets, and, I assume, our ears.

But the flies were the worst. I succumbed and hung fly strips everywhere, over the table, our beds and immediately above the stove (very hygienic). They work, but they are gross — nothing like murder by slow torture. But I received my Karmic rebate: More than once I ran headfirst into a gluey corpse-covered strip and attached. By the time I became unglued, there were tendrils of hair hanging off the sticky tape and buried in my head was a collection of dead and dying flies.

And, there was no jumping in a shower to remedy the situation.

Pro: Finally living my dream of being Laura Ingalls Wilder.
Con: Understanding why they died young in those days.

As for my dream of Little House on the Prairie — we did it, we lived the pioneer life: hauling water, heating it on the stove, sharing one bed with the entire family, battling wild animals — skunks, earwigs and magpies. We are better for having done it, but we all know what the lifespan was for those folks and there is clearly a direct correlation — that, I can tell you firsthand.

But, don’t worry about us any more. We have walls, windows, a real floor and a roof over our heads. The refrigerator is inside, as is the table. There is more than an inch between our bed and the kids, and a lamp actually resides on the table in that space. We are no longer exposed to the elements, although we can still see our breath in the mornings. Most importantly, the neighbors can no longer witness our every move.

We have moved into our garage, our newest adventure. And although some (like my poor mother) would shudder to think of living in here, to us, this 600 square feet of concrete and OSB is the Taj Mahal.

Suzanne Strazza will someday live in her dream home near Mancos.

Published in Suzanne Strazza

Hard tales gone soft

I wish I knew why Harley riders stare straight through me when I’m coming down the street on my scooter from the opposite direction. We’ve all seen the secret signal they flash each other as they pass by, a quick salute, often with the left hand or arm quickly extended. A kind of wave, an undeniable sign of acknowledgment between two riders who likely have never met. It’s a gesture of support, a confidence, a way of saying “hey” to a fellow biker.

Sadly, I’m beginning to suspect American motorcyclists of subscribing to a caste system in which Harley Davidsons occupy the top tier, followed by the Euro-touro blends, crotch rockets, dirt bikes, and finally the dung of motorized two-wheeled transportation, the scooter.

I own a scooter. Americans are buying and riding more scooters. Do we have to organize our own rally just to get a little respect?

It may be that a manifesto tooled into leather and nailed to a dealership door could make our case for a new age on the streets. Not everyone who chooses to ride a scooter is a wimp; clearly, not everyone who rides a Harley is a rugged individual. I’ve seen the ladies with blue hair driving their Buicks and, believe me, it takes guts to scoot around on our public roads with only 49ccs under our seats. I’m proud of my comrades for staying alert, being cautious, and sucking up less gasoline. It’s time the big bikes realized they’re representing the Hummers and SUVs of the motorcycle world.

If I could market a scooter look – an outfit, say, that screams take a ride on the mild side – maybe stereotypes would shatter and the thundering chrome classes would meet us with open arms. Unfortunately, uniforms don’t appeal to those efficient souls who ride scooters. Most of us follow the fashion model dictated by common sense: If it’s cool, we dress warmly; if it’s warm, we wear something cool; if it’s wet we try to stay out of the rain. Leather, chains, fringed vests, beards, braids, and tattoos amount to clutter, and really, there’s not enough room on a scooter. Trademark insignias and corporate belonging do little to motivate the scootee.

I’m not sure if it’s a matter of economics or just sour grapes. In the State of Colorado scooters under 50ccs need not pay for endorsement licensing, registration, plates, or insurance. They can even park on the sidewalks. If I was big bike, I’d be upset, but there’s no need to take it out on the little guys. Let’s roll and be role models for each other. Let’s try to relax: we won’t say anything about 12 bikes lined up in two parking spaces if you’ll just disregard our shopping baskets.

Being ignored as a bipedal without pedals only makes matters worse. The scooter rider already feels invisible at the traffic light. I’ve arrived at i n t e r s e c t i o n s early in the morning when no traffic is forthcoming, especially from side streets. I pull up to the crosswalk where the traffic signal should get some sense of my presence, but nothing happens. The light stays red for me, green for the rest of humanity.

I could sit a full five minutes wrapped in my invisibility cloak, waiting for the signal to change. Once I even put the kick stand down, got off my scooter, and jogged over to push the pedestrian crosswalk button. The light changed, but it mistook me for a pedestrian.

Lately I’ve taken to simply looking both ways for traffic and scooting across the intersection, regardless of what the light tells me to do, which amounts to a blatant disregard for authority — just like any good Harley rider.

David Feela is a teacher at Montezuma-Cortez High School.

Published in David Feela

Protection vs. private property rights: Building codes spark debates

Imagine you are a newcomer to Montezuma County. You buy a beautiful piece of land. You hire a local builder to construct your architectdesigned dream home. You move in.

A hairline crack in the living-room floor begins to widen. Inches. Sheetrock cracks gape as the underlying structure moves. You can now see daylight next to the ridge beam.

Opponents call codes unnecessary regulation

By Gail Binkly

A mandatory building code is an infringement on individual freedom and a sham that provides only the illusion of protection for homebuyers, local code opponents say.

Many newcomers to Southwest Colorado simply take it for granted that building codes are already in place.

But 13 of Colorado’s 64 counties do not have a mandatory residential building code for their unincorporated areas — and Montezuma and Dolores counties are among them.

Many builders, developers and ordinary citizens would like to see that change. A question on the general-election ballot in Montezuma County will ask voters whether they want a mandatory residential building code throughout the county. The question is non-binding — it’s essentially a poll — but the results will likely be influential in guiding future policy for the county commissioners.

However, local property-rights advocates are passionate about their opposition to a mandatory code, which they see as a threat to personal freedom and a thinly disguised way for an elite club of contractors to acquire a monopoly on the building market.

“Montezuma County was fine without building codes this far and they’ll be fine without them for another 100 or 200 years,” said Miscelle Allison of Pleasant View, who vehemently opposes the adoption of such a code. “Everybody wants to come here, everybody wants a piece of it, because it’s been so well taken care of.”

The ballot question doesn’t specify what type of code would be adopted, but the Four Corners Builders Association has suggested to the commissioners that they adopt a six-part inspection process based on the International Building Code. Allison said that means adopting the companion International Property Maintenance Code as well.

“That’s the kicker,” she said. “The International Maintenance Code says they can have random inspections, even when you’re living in it. It’s your residence. It’s not the public domain. This is nothing but a communist, socialist thing. I don’t want Big Brother in my home.”

Allison also believes that although the proposed code would exempt outbuildings, that would soon change. “First it will apply to homes, but eventually it will affect the barns and every building on the property. The only people who will be able to afford to build here are the ones who don’t need the codes because they can pay for what they want anyway.”

Allison said she knows there are bad builders, but she doesn’t believe a code will end the problem.

Ideally, she said, you do your own construction so that you know it’s done right. When a house is resold, Allison said, the buyers just have to examine the house and take their chances. “We can’t be in fear of everything everywhere we turn,” she said. “You sell it as is. The people that buy it can gut it and fix it if they want.”

Don Denison of Cortez agrees. He said there is no guarantee that a code inspector will do a thorough, consistent job. He believes codes will be used to get back at people.

“They will selectively enforce this code to keep people in line, just as anybody that is against this Iraq b.s. is labeled as a traitor,” he said.

Denison said the county’s current, voluntary code system works fine — if someone wants to build to code, it can be noted on the home’s plat. “To make it mandatory — that’s the problem,” he said. “Any time you have any encumbrance on your private property it becomes less private. And without private property this country is nothing.”

Although most counties do have a mandatory residential code, Allison said the county doesn’t need to follow in the steps of other locales. “This is a unique place,” she said. ‘It’s not Ohio or New York or California. It’s not Durango. It needs to stay Montezuma County.”

Snow drifts in. Your concern turns to alarm. The consultant you hire pulls off sheetrock and finds your 6-by-12- inch ridge beam is resting on a 2-by-4 at one end, fastened with finishing nails. The doors and windows are not nailed in at all, but held by the siding. One structural beam is missing altogether; a mockup is tacked to the sheetrock in its place.

Your alarm now includes concern for your safety. You move out.

This real-life saga happened to a Montezuma County couple who asked to remain anonymous.

Walter Stramel, then-president of the Four Corners Builders Association, saw the house after sheetrock removal had exposed some of the problems.

“It was terrible,” Stramel said. “In places, the beams and posts had warped and twisted so much that you could see daylight from inside. Amazing. I might have been on ‘Candid Camera.’ But I wasn’t. It was real.”

The builder denied responsibility. The owners received a partial settlement from the builder’s insurance company but took a large loss. The house had to be demolished, which wasn’t difficult: The entire structure toppled with a shove from a track hoe. Little could be salvaged; the debris filled 45 dump trumps on its way to burial in the Montezuma County landfill. The cost of removal, including the foundation, was $20,000.

These homeowners just moved into the second version of their home, built from the same plans by a reputable local builder. They want to put the painful three-year experience behind them.

They believe Montezuma County needs a mandatory building code.

Whether it will get one is uncertain. Conservative, agricultural and independent- minded, Montezuma County has long been resistant to government regulation. Although the county mandates that commercial and industrial buildings follow codes, there is no mandatory building code for residences.

In November, voters will have a chance to voice their opinion on whether that should change. A nonbinding question in Montezuma County will ask: “Shall a building code be adopted and made mandatory as to all future construction of residential structures in the unincorporated areas of Montezuma County?”

Although the county commissioners don’t have to abide by the results of the vote, it’s likely to have a strong influence on future county policy.

“As I said when I ran four years ago, before I would support mandatory building codes, I wanted the question to go to the electorate to see if people would accept and abide by them,” said Commission Chair Dewayne Findley. “It is not necessary to see it pass, but we need to see that opinion, especially out in the county, has shifted.”

In the minority

Thirteen counties in Colorado have no mandatory residential building codes and inspections. (Within those counties, however, some municipalities do have codes such as Cortez, Dolores and Mancos; and some don’t, including Dove Creek and Rico.) The counties, in order by descending population, are Delta, Montezuma, Yuma, Broward, Saguache, Custer, Costilla, Kit Carson, Baca, Cheyenne, Dolores, Sedgwick and Kiowa, according to the International Code Council in Denver.

Montezuma (population 24,551) and Delta (population 29,662) are the only counties with populations over 5,000 that remain codeless. Moves to implement residential codes have been defeated recently in Delta County.

However, the municipal code of the town of Delta has been extended into the corridor of future annexation.

To a large extent, the residential code issue in Montezuma splits down old-timer/newcomer lines. Old-timers, hooked into a grapevine of personal contacts, know who the good builders are and which ones are shoddy or johnny-come-lately.

Newcomers, on the other hand, usually expect the licensing, bonding, codes and inspections typical of the rest of the country.

“I warn newcomers that we don’t have residential building codes here,” said Katie Koppenhafer, a Realtor with Mesa Verde Realty in Cortez. “And I ask sellers to get an inspection, as part of the listing process. Some problems, such as dangerous stairs, balustrades and railings, are obvious, but you can’t see the problems behind the walls.”

Some newcomers, armed with this information, decide not to buy but to build instead. But building can have its own pitfalls.

Dick and Carol Massey moved here from Arizona. They have lived through a nightmare building their house in Mildred Estates.

Their builder was recommended by their real-estate agent. They drew up a contract. The lending institution checked that the builder had insurance. The Masseys made sure they had the final say on all checks going to pay the builder. They arranged to pay the subcontractors themselves.

Construction began in December 2003. In March 2004, they said, they could see that the several 6-by-6 uprights supporting the massive log ridge beam were separating. The second floor was sagging.

A consultant bore the bad news that there was grossly inadequate foundation support. The builder, when asked to correct the errors, packed up his tools, left and never returned, according to the Masseys.

There followed a complicated dance of liens, bonds and attorneys. One surprise for the Masseys was their inability to get a copy of the builder’s insurance policy to determine what, if any, damages were covered, without suing in court. They finally fired the builder and hired a contractor to correct the mistakes and ensure structural safety. They did much of the finish work themselves, to reduce the large cost overruns that the initial poor workmanship created.

“People are getting hurt and losing life savings in our county,” Dick Massey said. “We need codes and inspection and builder licensing.”

Massey jokes that he could run seminars on how to build in Montezuma County. His advice? Don’t trust your real-estate agent or your lending institution to clue you in to bad builders. Instead, ask around about builder satisfaction. Get recommendations from building-supply businesses or general contractors who do the kind of construction (logs, stick, etc.) you have in mind. Find good subcontractors (e.g., electricians and plumbers) and ask them about builders. Check every reference a prospective builder gives you. Listen for the word “lien.” Hire your own inspector. Watch out for materials delivered to your site that aren’t used for your project: you may be getting billed for them. And require your builder to get a performance bond.

Many reputable local builders are members of the Four Corners Builders Association, a non-profit affiliated with both the national and Colorado Assocation of Home Builders. They have been pressing the Montezuma County Commission to put in residential building codes. This year they proposed a simplified six-step code, including inspections of rough framing: foundation footings and stem walls (separate inspections), insulation, drywall and final (Certificate of Occupancy).

Agricultural and other non-residential buildings would be exempted and owners could still do their own work, subject to inspection.

Dean Matthews, president of the builders association, said implementing codes and inspections provides no financial gain for the builder. “The flat permit fees are just passed through to the homeowner. There would be absolutely no effect on existing housing, unless large structural changes or additions were made.”

Possibly gun-shy

Montezuma County commissioners could implement residential codes without any say-so from the voters. But t this is a hot-button issue.

Findley believes his support for putting the code question on the ballot may have hurt him in the August primary, which he lost to challenger Steve Chappell.

“I think the positions I took on individual area plans and on maybe requiring minimal but mandatory residential building codes that address foundations and sound construction were a factor in my defeat,” he said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that made the next commission gun-shy on the issue.”

The two candidates for Findley’s seat, Chappell and Democrat Galen Larson, hedged their positions.

Larson stated, “I strongly believe in personal property rights. [Building codes] must have guidelines that are equal and equitable for everyone.”

Chappell commented, “The county commissioners are commissioned to oversee the health, safety and welfare of the citizens of Montezuma County. Building codes embrace both health and safety issues. Codes and inspections for plumbing are necessary and we have that, as well as soil percolation and septic requirements. Heating and air conditioning and the ventilation for both are also important, as well as electrical codes, which are state-mandated. But some contractors have been shortchanging homeowners on foundations.

“It’s good that the residents of Montezuma County have the opportunity to express their feeling concerning building codes. The commissioners will get first-hand direction from their constituents as to their desires for more or less control in the area of codes, permits and inspection.

“It’s a shame when the construction trades become driven by greed for profit rather than quality of workmanship and, in so doing, lose the freedom that we all enjoy in any given occupation in America.”

Lack of licensing

Montezuma County Commissioner Larrie Rule, a concrete-company owner for many years, supports a code. “I’ve seen the problems,” he said. “I’d like to see a residential building code.”

But Commissioner Gerald Koppenhafer said if the question passes he will have to see which parts of the county voted for it before making a decision. “I’ll have to look at the vote, district by district,” he said.

“It won’t affect Cortez, for example, so it has to pass out in the county for us to act on it. People are resistant to the cost of a permit, the possibility of unfairness and regulation getting out of control.”

Koppenhafer said the best way to protect homebuyers would be for builders to be licensed. Colorado has no licensing or bonding of builders, unlike New Mexico and Utah. “I think the State of Colorado has fallen down in not requiring builder licensing and bonding. This route would be less of a burden on the homeowner.”

As Bob Sawyer, of CoWest Insurance in Cortez, commented, “With no licensing in Colorado, anyone with a 4-foot level and a Rottweiler can call himself a builder.”

Voluntary registration

Plumbing and septic-system inspections have been mandated in Montezuma County for only the last few years. (Electrical inspections are state-mandated.) There have been some problems with their use. The plumbing inspector, for example, hired by the state, comes to Montezuma County just one day a week. So walls must be left open until his arrival and sheetrock installers are unusually busy the next day.

Some builders and homeowners already hire their own independent inspectors. Matthews, a builder and developer who follows this practice, said, “You can’t be everywhere at once. Inspection only adds about 1 percent to the cost of building.”

The county maintains a list of certified residential-building inspectors. Homes that are built to the UBC residential code and inspected step-bystep can be voluntarily registered for $125 with the county as having been built to code.

Foundations are the greatest source of structural failures in Montezuma County. Jerry Giacomo, a residentialbuilding designer and certified residential- building inspector, said, “Montezuma County has some highly expandable clays and unstable shales. A structural analysis of the soil can be done at the same time as the required percolation test for an extra $300 or $400.”

Ryan Griglak of Stoner Engineering, added, “It doesn’t take a whole lot to do it right. And it can be a huge cost to try to fix after the fact.”

When approving a new housing subdivision, the county can, and frequently does, ask that foundations be engineered. But no inspection and enforcement follow. It is essentially an honor system.

‘Ungraded’

The presence/absence of codes is not yet a factor in insurance rates, but may become one. The Insurance Services Organization is the non-profit that furnishes the insurance industry with fire-risk protection classes. To do this, they rate virtually every fire district in the country on a scale from 1 to 10 (e.g., 3 in Dolores; 4 in Cortez ).

The cost of fire insurance for homes varies accordingly. In 1995, in response to huge losses in earthquakeand hurricane-prone areas, the ISO began a Building Code Effectiveness Grading Schedule. The ratings, also on a 1-to-10 scale, can now be done throughout the country at the request of public officials.

One hundred fifteen ratings have been done in counties and municipalities in Colorado. As the ISO states, “The concept is simple: municipalities with well-enforced, up-to-date codes should demonstrate better loss experience.” The BCEGS is voluntary.

But Bob Sherman, an insurance broker in California, where the ratings are widely used, believes the BCEGS will be increasingly used by insurance companies because it will accurately predict loss.

“Fire-department ratings are also ‘voluntary,’ but try getting insurance without one,” he said.

Homeowners’ fire-insurance rates change if the fire-risk protection class of their fire district changes. But the BCEGS rating is different in an important way. The grade given to the building depends on the county or municipality’s grade for the year in which it was built. That score then travels with the building, regardless of how local code enforcement changes.

This means that new buildings in Montezuma County are at present “ungraded,” along with all the pre-1995 buildings in the country.

“‘Ungraded’ will effectively become a grade when a significant portion of the country is using the BCEGS,” Sherman commented. “And ungraded buildings will pay more.”

Voters on Nov. 7 will have to weigh such considerations against the desire to avoid more government regulation.

Published in Election, October 2006

Welch cites experience with county, promises good service

Karen Welch, Democratic candidate for Montezuma County treasurer, was asked to write about her qualifications for the office.

KAREN WELCHI’m Karen Welch, candidate for Montezuma County treasurer. I’d like to take a few minutes to let you know why I believe I am your best choice when you cast your ballot at the polls in November.

My career with Montezuma County over the last 15 years has provided a unique experience that few can claim. I have developed solid working relationships with the county commissioners, administrator, elected officials, other department heads and staff.

I have worked hard to establish a strong rapport with the business community, municipal and state officials and entities. Most importantly has been the opportunity to serve the citizens of this community on an individual basis. I am well-organized and a leader. I have been a department head for the county for the past four years and I am comfortable working within the structure of the county budget and other local, state and federal mandates.

I believe courteous and efficient service to the people of Montezuma County is important and I will continue to maintain the professionalism that the office of treasurer requires. As your treasurer I would enhance the level of service to the community by establishing a Calendar site on the county website. This is a convenient way for people to find information outside of regular office hours regarding dates when taxes are due, tax sales and other important deadlines pertinent to the treasurer’s office. I will request the commiissioners to designate the treasurer’s parking spot at the southeast corner of the courthouse for lawenforcement use only. The main parking lot serves all county employees equally well.

As your treasurer I will maintain the following investment objectives. First, safety of county investments will be undertaken in a manner to ensure the preservation of the principal balance. Secondly, liquidity of a portion of the investments will be maintained for availability if called upon by the Board of County Commissioners. Last, but not least, I will strive to invest your tax dollars to attain the highest total rate of return consistent with the safety of principal and liquidity guidelines that these investments allow.

Montezuma County has been home to four generations of my family and five generations on my husband’s side beginning with his grandparents through to our grandsons. I believe it is important to be able to look back over the last 40 years and call Montezuma County home. Thank you for your time. I appreciate your consideration and vote for Montezuma County treasurer.

Published in Election, October 2006

Sparks: Boost drug enforcement, animal control

Sheriff’s candidate Sam Sparks has encountered a few major pitfalls along the campaign trail, but he emphatically declares he’s still in the running.

INDEPENDENT SHERIFF CANDIDATE SAM SPARKSDespite pending charges of animal cruelty, and a recent suspension from his job as a Mancos deputy marshal, the independent candidate has not even considered withdrawing from the race, he told the Free Press.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

Sparks faces one felony and one misdemeanor charge of animal cruelty and two petty-offense charges of official misconduct for shooting a dog he said was attacking him on March 8, while he was on duty as deputy marshal. The trial for Jan. 29, he said.

More recently, the Mancos Town Board voted 5-1 on Sept. 13 to put Sparks on paid administrative leave, allegedly because of a statement by District Attorney Jim Wilson that Sparks gave “possibly impeachable” testimony during a drug trial in June.

Sparks firmly denied that he did anything wrong in that case. “I did not lie under oath,” he said. “As that case is being investigated, I can’t comment on it, but I can tell you that I did not lie under oath and the truth will come out.”

Sparks said he understands that voters want an explanation of the events behind the charges but said he is constrained from commenting while the case is active. “Yes, they do, they deserve an explanation, but on the advice of my attorney I can’t comment other than I did not lie under oath — I would not lie under oath.”

He said he hopes the matter will be cleared up soon, “hopefully before the election, and I think it will be.”

In the meantime, Sparks wants voters to consider his qualifications and platform when they go to the polls Nov. 7.

Sparks is running against incumbent Sheriff Gerald Wallace, a Republican who walloped challenger Bill Conner 82-18 percent in the August primary.

That might intimidate some candidates, but Sparks is not deterred.

“I think I could do a better job or I wouldn’t be running for the office,” he said.

Sparks said the two major planks in his platform are taking a much stronger stance against drugs, and hiring an animal- control officer for the county.

“My No. 1 plank in my platform is an aggressive drug policy,” he said. “I think methamphetamine needs to be addressed. It’s a severe problem here and in the U.S. as a whole.”

Sparks said his drug approach would have three parts. First would be expanding education in the schools.

“Right now kids are getting a six-week program and I don’t think that’s sufficient,” he said.

Second, he would adopt a policy of “diligent and aggressive enforcement” of drug laws.

Last, he would stress rehabilitation.

“Once we kind of get [the user] cleaned up, if a committee or the services think a client is sincere about trying to get off of it,” he or she would receive treatment, he said.

He said Mancos has a serious drug problem and not enough is being done about it. “They’re paying the drug task force a thousand dollars a month and there haven’t been any drug busts over there. There’s been two raids. I don’t understand why they’re not being more aggressive.”

As deputy marshal, he arrested two meth dealers, he said. “We are working on it, the Mancos marshal’s office is, but the drug dealers don’t just stay in Mancos. They move around.”

The other plank in Sparks’ platform is a county animal-control officer. The position was eliminated by former Sheriff Joey Chavez to save money.

“Around $3,000 worth of sheep were killed at the livestock barn this year,” Sparks said. He would like the animal-control officer to also work as an agricultural officer who would know fence, livestock, and water laws.

Sparks also wants to restore Community Corrections, a program cut by Wallace soon after he was appointed last year because it was losing some $15,000 per month.

“I think we need to bring it back in some shape or form,” Sparks said. “I would like to make Community Corrections a multi-function facility, with detox and a homeless shelter.”

Sparks also would like to see a holding facility for mentally ill clients.

“Right now all we have is the jail and I don’t think that’s the right place for a mental patient. They need a facility where they can be under 24-hour supervision.”

A secure psychiatric unit will open in Durango soon, but Sparks said Montezuma County still needs a place to hold mentally ill clients until they can be transported to Durango or Pueblo.

Sparks said his serious interest in law enforcement began in 1998, when Cortez Police Officer Dale Claxton was gunned down by by three men who escaped into the desert.

“I joined the sheriff’s posse in 1990 and when Dale was killed I became actively involved in law enforcement. I started doing ride-alongs with deputies and securing crime scenes for the sheriff.”

Sparks graduated from the lawenforcement academy in 2003. He went to work for the sheriff’s office for a year, then resigned and was hired by the Mancos marshal’s office, first parttime, then full-time in May 2005.

Sparks said he wants to give back to the county, which has been his home for 49 years.

“I grew up here, my kids grew up here and I have a grandson growing up here and I just feel like we can’t stop change but we can help guide it. The people that move here like our way of life and I feel that needs to be safeguarded.

“I don’t need a job or anything, I just want to give back to my community.”

Sparks said he would have handled the Rally in the Rockies motorcycle rally differently than Wallace did. Wallace and other area law officers, voiced grave concerns about the rally, which sought to move at the last minute to Echo Basin Ranch near Mancos. The commissioners denied it a permit and it was shut down.

“Law enforcement — I think there was a negative attitude from the very start and I would have tried to work with everybody so we could have had a safe rally and had the added income to the county,” he said.

However, Sparks said he agrees with the neighbors that the road to Echo Basin is a problem. “Whether we need to move [the rally] to the fairgrounds, I don’t know.”

Sparks, a former businessman and still a rancher, said many locals know him and his character.

“People know me and know that what I say is what I mean. Regardless of this latest accusation, I am a man of my word and it upsets me that I have been accused of being untruthful because I grew up in the old school. I still believe a man’s word is his bond and I will do what I say.”

Sparks said he thinks the allegation of possible perjury is politically motivated. Asked who would be behind it, he replied, “That I’m not going to say. I think the voters can figure that out.”

He expressed frustration at not being able to say more. “They make these accusations and make it into an active case and then I can’t even defend myself. I think it’s all political, I really do, but I can’t say anything.”

Sparks said he wants to run a clean campaign. “I’m not going to get into the mudslinging part of it like the primary was. I’m just not going to go there. I want to win the election on my merits and my qualities.”

Published in Election, October 2006

Political gadfly Larson seeks commission seat

An outspoken political gadfly decided to go all the way last spring, throwing himself and his considerable energy into a quest for a seat on the Montezuma County commission after no other Democrat stepped forward to seek the nomination.

Galen Larson, known locally for his personal philanthropy as well as his fiery columns in the Free Press, has been a longtime critic of county government and an advocate for more economic development, particularly to encourage agriculture, and for a revised land-use code.

With limited financial backing from the party and scarce support from volunteers, Larson had been waging what was essentially a one-man campaign until the Republican nominee, Steve Chappell, was chosen in August. (Chappell defeated incumbent Dewayne Findley.) Now, some party activists have been offering their advice and assistance.

So what started as a rather quixotic campaign has been building steam. Larson garnered the endorsement of the Southwest Colorado Greens and the Panther Press, the Montezuma-Cortez High School newspaper. One prominent Democrat believes Larson has a realistic chance of winning.

“I think it’s interesting that Galen’s running now,” said Chuck McAfee, who lost to Findley four years ago in the commission race and has been helping Larson in his campaign. McAfee said even though Republicans are the dominant party in the county, he believes people are ready for a change, as demonstrated by Findley’s defeat in the primary.

“I sure think Galen steps into an opportunity to make a difference,” he said. “When people start thinking about Galen speaking from his heart and doing it in a simple way and really wanting to make a change, they’re going to listen to him.

“I believe if he gets out and talks to enough people, I think he’s got a chance — there’s something going on that resulted in Dewayne’s departure.

“People are upset and looking for change and I think Galen is the only sign of change on the horizon.”

Larson, who describes himself as a “moderate liberal,” continues to plug away at gaining support among the county’s voters, a large number of whom are unaffiliated.

“You never know until the fat lady sings,” he said.

Larson said he’s in favor of the ballot question that would hike the county sales-tax by half a penny to improve roads. Likewise, he supports the proposed sales tax of 5 one-hundredths of a penny to go to the county fairgrounds and racetrack. If it and the road tax pass, they and the current jail tax would total a 1-cent tax for the county.

“I’m for any taxes that benefit the community,” Larson said. “This would be a boon to the area because the fairgrounds hosts a lot of events and needs to be enhanced.”

Larson sounded conflicted on the question of adopting a mandatory residential building code, but said it was “a necessary thing if we’re going to have any smart growth in the area.”

“How are we going to entice people to come here if we don’t have any standards to go by?” he said. “I don’t think we need any international building code or anything so heavily enforced as California, but you have to have some guidelines to protect people from poorly built homes — they’re a fire hazard and a danger to life and limb.

“But there’s a faction here that doesn’t want it and I don’t understand where they’re coming from.”

Larson was short on specifics when asked what he would want to see covered in a county-wide building code.

“That’s a pretty deep subject to put together in a hurry and I haven’t given it any study,” he said.

The county commissioners came under fire in recent weeks for shutting down the Four Corners Rally in the Rockies motorcycle rally, which was proposed over Labor Day weekend at a site near Mancos. The rally organizers sought a high-impact permit at the last minute but were denied, and the county obtained a court injunction preventing the rally from going on.

“The first thing I would have done is ask [promoter Dan Bradshaw] why he wanted to move from Ignacio to Montezuma County,” he said. “Then I would have called the Southern Utes and driven over and talked to them about why he was moving out of there.

“Then tell them what was necessary, the money we’d need to hire firemen and police and the highway patrol and see if they could come up with that, and if they couldn’t — end of story.”

Larson declined to say whether he would support a rally for 2007. “I’d have to find out some more information about it,” he said. “It might be good, it might not be good. How do we know?” Larson said he would like to adopt smart-growth planning if elected.

“That’s where you have planned development for the area,” he explained, “and utilize the amenities we have here closer to the cities.” Such growth would have to be “more conducive to getting the rural residents and the cities of Cortez, Dolores and Mancos to work together.

“That’s what still surprises me — there’s too much animosity between the three cities and the rural residents,” said Larson, who has lived for more than two decades on 360 acres near Cortez, land he’s donated to a conservation trust to assure it remains undeveloped after his demise.

One cause of this divisiveness, Larson speculated, might be that the commissioners are perceived as mainly representing the interests of the residents in the unincorporated areas of the county.

“The commissioners are in charge of the whole county. They should work with all three towns and see if they can develop a plan to bring in some industry. We’re a poor county, but we have a lot of amenities that we could use to make it a profitable county,” he said, and the creation of an attractive industrial park would be a step in the right direction.

Larson said that during a recent 5,000- mile trip, he saw a direct correlation between prosperity and higher education. “I saw a number of communities the size of Cortez that have a two-year college with a campus and dormitories,” he said. “Talk about a clean economic engine, I’d say that’s one of the best.

“Then you have an educated workforce, and your businesses will come,” he said. “We can’t have nudist clubs and strip joints and stuff like that here, we need something to enhance the area.”

The county’s land-use plan, known as LIZ for Landowner-Initiated Zoning, needs to be changed to make the process more consistent, he said.

“It doesn’t seem to have any teeth in its regulations, because every time the commissioners make a (land-use) decision it seems we get a lawsuit.”

Another of his goals, he said, would be to boost local agriculture. In particular, he wants to see more specialized, niche farming and ranching.

“We’re going to have to have small farms growing local produce and animals. We need a small (USDA-inspected) processing plant. We can feed ourselves, be self-sufficient and export the rest.”

Larson said he would support the county’s investing a significant amount in economic development, which would be a change from the minimal support provided in the past.

Published in Election, October 2006

Mill-levy hike would aid curriculum, teachers

School Superintendent Stacy Houser agrees with the tax foes who say that throwing money at problems doesn’t solve them.

RE-1 SUPERINTENDENT STACY HOUSERWhat he wants to do with a proposed mill-levy increase for School District Re-1 is not to throw the money at the district’s problems, but to spend it judiciously to help retain teachers, develop a uniform curriculum, and improve students’ reading capabilities.

“You don’t throw money, that’s absolutely right,” he said. “But in anything today, when something’s broken, it takes money to fix it. But you need to follow a proven plan or a proven strategy.”

To that end, the district school board voted in July to ask voters to approve a 7-mill increase in the district’s current levy of 23.7333 mills. The increase would amount to about $84 on a home assessed at $150,000 and would bring in about $1.6 million extra per year. It’s a fairly modest increase, enough so that Houser said he’s been questioned on why the district didn’t ask for more.

“I’ve taken some heat for not asking for more, but I think it’s a fair amount,” he said. “In and of itself it’s not enough but with staffing studies and trimming our budget, it becomes sufficient to do what we want to do.”

Among the problems that the extra money could help alleviate, Houser said, are below-average teacher salaries and low Colorado Student Assessment Program (CSAP) reading and writing scores.

Teacher salaries in the district, which were about 13 percent behind state average in 1999, are now nearly 18 percent behind, Houser said. What this means is that many teachers spend a year or two in the district, then leave for higher-paying jobs, such as in Shiprock, N.M.

“We lost a teacher the last week of school to Shiprock, where they can make $20,000 a year more,” Houser said.

About $525,000 of the new revenues would be earmarked for higher staff salaries, helping to close the gap between Re-1 and the state average, and making the district more competitive with Shiprock as well, when commuting expenses are factored in.

“I don’t know that we have to be at state average, but we have to be closer than we are right now,” Houser said.

The additional money would also go to implement a uniform district curriculum; provide reading interventions in grades K-8; develop an agricultural/ vocaional program at the high school; implement a student success program at the high school and middle school; and improve campus safety.

Re-1 has suffered in recent years from the effects of TABOR, the state constitutional amendment that limits spending and income, and from declining student enrollment. One of the consequences of the area’s growing popularity with retirees and second- home owners is that home prices are rising and fewer young families with children are moving in.

Because schools’ funding from the state is based on how many pupils they have, this has meant budget cuts for Re-1.

As of Sept. 23, Re-1 was down 190 students from last year, Houser said. At $5,500 per student (the state’s funding), that would translate to a loss of $1.045 million. The state averages the last four years’ enrollment together so that no district has to absorb such a cut all at once, but over the last four years the district has lost $300,000 to $500,000 in revenues from the state, Houser said.

And lower student numbers don’t necessarily mean equivalent drops in expenses, he explained. “At the elementary level, you may have a school that’s down 40 [students],” he said. “That’s about $200,000. But those 40 students may not be all in one grade. You could eliminate a teaching position if they were, but if they’re distributed through all five grades you can’t just cut teaching positions.”

Likewise, utility and fuel costs don’t drop concurrently with student enrollment, though Houser is hopeful that with energy prices going down this year they won’t be a budget problem.

There has been talk of going from two bus routes to one route, but that would save only about $100,000 out of a $25 million budget, Houser said, and would cause problems because many drivers might not be willing to work if their hours were cut in half.

“We’re not having that conversation right now, but we may have to some day,” he said.

The mill-levy increase would also help to implement district improvement plans, such as a plan to deal with the problematic CSAP scores.

The district was put on accreditation watch last November — meaning it could lose its accreditation — because overall scores from 2000 had not improved and the district’s most recent scores had fallen, while student scores statewide had been increasing. The district had to develop an accreditation plan. The mill-levy increase would allow the district to better implement that plan, he said.

Although the district’s reading, writing and math scores improved somewhat for 2005-06, Houser said, they aren’t satisfactory.

Houser, who is in his second year as superintendent of Re-1, said he is hopeful the mill-levy measure will pass. A local committee of concerned citizens, called Support Our Schools, is promoting the measure.

“I’m optimistic because of the people that are working on it and the need for it,” Houser said.

Published in Election, October 2006

Lovejoy touts economic development for Navajos

Lynda Lovejoy might just become the first female president of the Navajo Nation. Her candidacy — and her surprising second-place finish in the Aug. 8 primary — have certainly piqued the interest of observers.

LYNDA LOVEJOY SPEAKS AT A RALLYIncumbent Navajo Nation President Joe Shirley Jr. came in first in the primary, with 28 percent of the vote, out of 10 candidates. The odds were on Frank Dayish Jr., currently tribal vice president, to finish second — or, if not Dayish, then Ernest Harry Begay of Rock Point, a former chief of staff for the president’s office.

But Lovejoy, seemingly a dark horse, finished with 22 percent of the vote, roughly 2,000 fewer votes than Shirley. Dayish was third with 17 percent. (Only the top two vote-getters move on to the general election.) Shirley told reporters that Lovejoy’s finish was “a total surprise.”

A little research revealed that there was to be a ceremony at Lovejoy’s Shiprock campaign headquarters on Saturday, Sept. 16. It was a perfect day for a ride. There had been rain , and when there’s rain in the desert all of the plants say thanks, and there’s a certain mysterious magic in the air.

The event was scheduled from 11:30 to 2. I got there at 1, and I was right on time. I’d stopped at the “Chat and Chew,” a little homemade fast-food place that sits under a big cottonwood tree on the highway to Farmington, for directions. The folks at the Chat and Chew are always friendly. They helped me out.

Lovejoy’s Shiprock campaign headquarters sits on the top of a hill on Highway 64, the Shiprock-to- Farmington highway. It’s an old abandoned gas station that they’d fixed up and painted.

I’ll say this for Mrs. Lovejoy’s team: They are organized. There was a big sign that said “Lynda Lovejoy for Navajo Nation President,” a bunch of cars in the parking lot, people in folding chairs listening to one of the speakers. The wind blew without pause.

I settled in to wait. An awning was set up with banners and flags, and a microphone. Off to one side a couple of young guys formed what appeared to be a band of sorts — a Navajo reservation garage band, I suspected, and I was right.

Lovejoy returned with her husband, John, walked through the small crowd, shaking hands with everyone, and took her place beneath the awning. The speeches continued, in both Navajo and English.

She’s the mother of eight children, grandmother to seven. She spent 10 years in the New Mexico state legislature; she’s the only Native American commissioner on the New Mexico Public Regulation Commission. She hails from Crownpoint. Those are the bare bones.

I wish I’d counted the number of speeches — there were a slew of them. At last Lovejoy spoke and I listened attentively, even though she spoke in a mixture of Navajo and English and I only caught parts of it.

Lovejoy’s son, Russell Morgan, a nutritionist in Crown Point, was instrumental in my getting the interview. At the end of her speech, he brought her to meet me. The garage band lit up. They were loud: electric guitar and drums.

Lovejoy, her husband, and her son accompanied me inside. Even though a cinder-block wall separated us from the garage band, it sounded as though they were in the room with us. As I began my questioning the guitarist launched into an imitation of Jimi Hendrix’s “Star-Spangled Banner.” It was awful. Our nerves were frazzled by the end of the interview.

“What do you think your biggest challenge is going to be?” I asked.

“Probably the biggest challenge will be bringing people together and moving toward a democratic form of government, so that we can instill confidence in the people so that they can feel ownership of their government,” Lovejoy replied.

I asked her what she hoped to accomplish in the first 100 days.

“We hope to introduce some draft legislation in the council that will reduce some of the barriers to small business,” she said. Lovejoy has made economic development one of her priorities. “We want to create streamlining approval processes for small-business applications.”

I asked if she knew Richard Mike. She said she did. Mike, an astute businessman from Kayenta, was instrumental in helping the city to become incorporated. In just a few years it went from a windy, dirty reservation town on Highway 160 to a showcase of Navajo possibilities. The town passed a sales tax, installed wider highways with sidewalks, curbs and gutters, and encouraged a number of new businesses to open along the busy tourist corridor.

“That’s the kind of local control and local ownership, local self-sufficiency, we need to encourage,” Lovejoy said.

She would like to see a Navajo Nation bank that would approve loans to small businesses. “Because of the structure of land-use agreements on the Navajo Nation it’s difficult for small businesses to borrow money,” she said.

“We have home-site leases and business leases between individuals and the tribe, but banks want not only the buildings as collateral, but the land that the business sits on as well. With current banking regulations this is difficult to do; that’s why we need a Navajo Nation bank.”

I asked about gaming. “If you go into the Ute Mountain Ute Casino on Saturday night, what percentage of the people there will be Navajo?” I asked.

“Practically all of them,” she said.

“How do you feel about the new gaming proposals approved by the Navajo Council?” I asked.

“I personally don’t support casinos,” she said, “but the council managed to get it voted in. They manipulated the language, and they manipulated the voting. But it is approved. There is now a Gaming Act, a gaming commission, so they’re pretty well under way.

“There are several chapters, such as Shiprock, who want gaming. I think we ought to control it. If there are going to be casinos we should monitor them closely. If we are going to have casinos, they should be limited to just a few locations. Still, I have questions… How is it going to be funded? How is it going to be managed?”

“What do you think the critical needs are in education? I asked.

“I think we need to establish better relations with the public schools and even the contract schools. We need to have courses in Navajo history and language.”

I’m not familiar with all of the issues on the Navajo Reservation, but I have noticed some problems and inequities: the lack of certified Navajo teachers and health-care workers, the need for educational institutions suited for the needs of the Navajo people; better education for Navajo students, improvements in housing, roads, utilities, and economic opportunities.

The Lovejoy-Shirley contest is heating up. Shirley, 58, is seeking his second term in office. A supporter of the controversial Desert Rock Power Plant proposal, which would put a 1,500- megawatt coal-fired plant on the reservation south of Kirtland, N.M., he also supports gaming.

Shirley has been credited with helping eliminate the Bureau of Indian Affairs from the business-site leasing process, an achievement that may sound obscure but that means proposed businesses no longer have to wait up to three years to get site approval on the reservation.

Shirley’s office has charged in a press release that Lovejoy has no platform and no experience suitable for running the Navajo Nation.

However, Shirley’s campaign recently took a hit when Calvert Garcia, who heads his re-election effort in the northern Navajo area, recently admitted to stealing more than $21,000 in a check-cashing scheme while he was president of the Nageezi Chapter and a member of Shirley’s executive staff. Garcia, of Bloomfield, N.M., has agreed to repay the money.

Some traditionalists have argued that having a woman as tribal president would violate Navajo culture. Other Navajos say they are excited by the prospect. (The neighboring Ute Mountain Ute tribe had a woman, Judy Knight-Frank, as chair for many years.) Is Lovejoy capable of providing the kind of leadership that will improve the Navajo Nation? Is gender really an issue? The Navajo voters will decide that Nov. 7.

Published in Election, October 2006

Dealing in concrete subjects

Jamie Olson speaks slowly, with a trace of a Midwestern accent, on the phone from Bluff, Utah, where he makes a living fashioning what he calls wearable art — necklaces, pins, and earrings.

He creates playful designs, human and animal, with a universal feel and he considers carefully how he wants to describe them. “[They’re] whimsical and imaginative,” he says, “whether a female form, or Anasazi, or Navajo, or Ute, or a Hopi maiden.”

With the same designs he uses for jewelry, Olson also builds life-sized concrete sculptures for yards and gardens. “[Both are] timeless, with no particular race or creed to me,” he says.

“Well-balanced and pleasing to the eye is what I’m looking for, whether it’s a 3-inch [broach] or 5-foot-8 [statue]. They have a contemporary Southwest feel, a prehistoric feel, or even a shamanistic feel.”

His creates his designs from pictures and books. He also uses ancient Native American pot sherds, some 2,000 years old, which he buys from people collecting them on private property.

“What I call recycled refuse, because [the Indians] broke those pots and threw them away.”

Olson particularly likes pot sherds because Bluff sits on Native American ruins. Some of the town’s early residents built their houses of rubble from cliff dwellings. He also admires the ancient Indians’ society. “It was a simpler time.”

Jamie Olson lives simply himself, in a 1965 Winnebago that measures 15 by 7 feet. The trailer also contains his wearable art shop. His concrete works happen in a shed behind his home.

His life experience led him to his media. After growing up in Palatine, Ill., about 35 miles northwest of Chicago, he followed a girl to Greeley, Colo., where she attended college.

An acquaintance owned a jewelry shop in town, and Olson went to work for him “for about two years,” long enough to learn jewelry-making.

“Then I got a regular job, forgot about the creative aspects, and began leading this other life,” he says.

To make a living, he poured concrete for buildings. He also drank. “I’m an alcoholic,” he says bluntly. “So I led an alcoholic lifestyle of drinking and working. That’s about it.”

During the summer, Olson poured in Colorado. The winter brought him to Arizona. The drive between the two states led him through Bluff.

“I saw the town and I liked it,” he recalls.

He continued working concrete for 20 years. Then, about 11 years ago, he decided he needed some changes in his life. “I quit drinkin’ and quit concrete, and kind of became a free man, able to do what I wanted to do.”

What he wanted to do was make art again. “I wanted to create things that people didn’t need, but wanted.”

He returned to jewelry, creating designs into templates for pieces. He rarely produced one-of-a-kind objects. Around 2000, he brought some work to the Twin Rocks Trading Post in Bluff. The post manager bought the pieces, and Olson decided to settle in town, half a block from Twin Rocks.

Until recently, he made wearable art out of wires and metal. Now he’s added stones, turquoise, jet, pipe stone, and pottery sherds. He still works from a template.

About 2004, he began trying his designs with concrete. “I wanted to do something nice with concrete — something creative to look at. All the concrete I poured had a purpose.”

He projects a shape onto a board and traces it, to make a sculpture. That process produces the forms into which he will pour the concrete. Three or four hours after pouring, he removes the molds, and cuts details into the damp sculpture’s surface. He must work fast. Concrete dries quickly.

Olson finishes his concrete pieces on three sides, intending them to stand against walls, fences, and shrubs. Often he makes a sculpture in parts, which he later connects. Soon, he hopes that he can make his living from the sculptures instead of wearable art.

But, “it’s taking a while to get the concrete down,” he explains. “There’s only so far you can go with a certain medium, and you have to find out what they [the limits] are.”

He has sold two sculptures and has had what he calls “good responses,” to his work. Over Labor Day weekend, he exhibited some in Moab, Utah.

He is showing in Santa Fe, and plans to approach art galleries in Sedona and Carefree, Ariz., this winter, to see if they will exhibit pieces.

This November, he might show sculptures at the Bluff Arts Festival. If not, he will display them at Twin Rocks Trading Post, along with his jewelry.

“I’ll give [sculpting] six months or so, and see what happens. If people like ’em, I’ll find out. If not, I go back to the drawing board and do something else.”

He’ll also expand his jewelry-making. “You can get into a rut, you know, and that’s no good.”

Olson enjoys adapting his designs across media. “Anything can go wrong with concrete. That’s the nature of the beast,” he explains. “When you pour it, it better be right. With jewelry, you have to get into a different mind set — a very patient mind set. That’s what I like.”

Olson’s concrete sculptures and wearable art are available at Twin Rocks Trading Post, 913 E. Navajo Twins Drive in Bluff. The phone number is 435-672-2341

Published in Arts & Entertainment, October 2006

War of the words

From what’s been going on in this little world of ours, you’d think it was possible to change reality by changing a few words.

Don’t agree with Bush supporters? That’s OK — call them “idiots” and go back to feeling superior. Think Bush’s detractors are unpatriotic? Just label them “traitors” and go back to feeling superior. Bush himself is at war with “terror,” apparently never having learned you can’t send an army against an emotion. And folks who don’t approve of France’s politics simply order up a side of freedom fries.

Worse than such name games is when laws, and, sometimes, entire societies, are pitted against ideas, words and their authors.

Consider the September trial of Turkish novelist Elif Shafak. The charge? “Insulting Turkishness.” The crime? Writing a novel, “The Bastard of Istanbul,” which features Armenian characters who happen to believe — contrary to the official Turkish government stance — that Turkey perpetrated genocide against their people during the breakup of the Ottoman Empire.

“I think my case is very bizarre because for the first time, they are trying fictional characters,” Shafak told the Associated Press Sept. 9, a few weeks before she was acquitted of the (ludicrous) charge. The acquittal, while a relief, is insufficient to overcome the situation’s sheer creepiness.

“Turkishness” is a concept. It is not possible to victimize a concept. This woman faced three years in a Turkish prison. For words.

When asked how trying Shafak might harm Turkey’s prospects with the European Union, a persecutor — er, prosecutor — complained about a lack of respect for Turkish culture. “The Easterner has to insult and degrade his own culture to ingratiate himself with the West,” Kemal Kerincsiz whined.

On a general level, he had a point. But there are a few things he could do with hearing. To begin with, paranoid Western nationalists have already overplayed the “our values are under attack” card. Accordingly, we’re very aware of both that tactic and its weakness. So very sorry, Kemal, but you’re going to have to find your own shtick with which to beat fury into the Turkish masses. Further, this sort of manipulation — the idea that Shafak is not a mere novelist but a “traitor” to Turkish ideals — is the tool of cowards and the meat of the weak-minded. Was Turkish pride really at such a low ebb that a single novel stood poised to undo it completely? This isn’t pride. It is fear. As Shafak said, “(The law) has been used as a weapon. …Things are changing. The bigger the transformation, the bigger their panic.” And she was the canary in the mine.

One of many canaries, it turns out. More than one person has reaped the whirlwind after challenging an establishment — whether through inadvertent dunderheadedness, as Pope Benedict did in September, or gutsy confrontation, as Dutch filmmaker Theo Van Gogh did before paying with his life in 2004. (Van Gogh produced the TV documentary “Submission,” which portrayed the oppression experienced by some Muslim women. Former Dutch politician Ayaan Hirsi Ali remains under threat of death for her role in the film’s creation).

As for Benedict, he quoted a centuries- old conversation between a Byzantine emperor and a Persian scholar, in which said emperor had opined, with a few choice words, that Muhammad hadn’t brought anything new to the table except a mandate to convert people at sword point. The emperor of course was wrong; there was nothing new or uniquely Muslim about that mandate. Benedict was probably unwise to mention it—but the extremists who exploited the remark hardly put it in the same context as Benedict had used it. Nor does the quotation place Benedict “in the same category as leaders such as Hitler and Mussolini.” And it’s hard to stomach such a statement when it comes from the mouth of — brace yourself — a Turkish official. This growing phenomenon of hysterical overreaction isn’t just “Islamic” fascism.

This is — and must be seen as — intellectual fascism that is widespread. Can we forget that Austria, a country that most assuredly should know better, convicted British scholar David Irving for denying the Holocaust? Only the desperate and benighted would ascribe to Irving’s ideas, but that’s all they were: Crazy ideas. You don’t argue with a fool, Austria. And you don’t martyr a lunatic.

It’s equally hard to forget those Dutch Muhammad cartoons that touched off a firestorm of anti- Western sentiment. In this case, extremists exploited raw emotions to a deadly degree. In some instances, though, they also inadvertently revealed the foolishness of their tactics, as when Iran decreed the “Danish” would be known as the “rose of the Prophet Muhammad pastry.” Iran has also since renamed pizza “elastic loaves.”

What Iran has not done is explained what this sort of absurdity accomplishes. One must ask: What is Iran (and everyone else) so afraid of? Is it really so eager to tighten its grip that it cannot see it’s lost it completely? Besides, renaming food items in a misguided bid to protect national pride is, you know, Western. Pass the freedom fries.

Katharhynn Heidelberg writes from Montrose.

Published in Katharhynn Heidelberg

Skunked again

So my dog, Tessa, has this not-so-endearing habit of joining me whenever I venture out to pee (Remember, I live in a tent so the world is my toilet). Well, about an hour ago, she followed my half-asleep self outside, took off at a full gallop and returned, seconds later, oozing skunk.

First, she rubbed her face against my car tires; then, feeling sorry for herself, she tried to snuggle up to me. Still taking care of my business, I was trapped, unable to escape her fragrant body. So I screamed for help.

Soon, Tom and I were fumbling around in the dark for headlamps, the hose and anything to kill the odor.

Believe it or not, Tessa didn’t enjoy having fire-roasted plum tomatoes poured over her snout, even though they were organic.

Earlier this evening we’d had dinner at my friend M’s house. M is new in town and not yet used to having her name and personal life dragged out in public so I’ll go easy on her by keeping her name a secret until she’s been around a bit longer, knows more people and is therefore more likely to be embarrassed.

The reason that I bring up this dinner is that my first significant skunking experience was with M way back in our troublemaking days of youth. One fair summer evening, on our way to a party, we strutted (thinking we were hot stuff then) out the front door right behind her dog, S p a r r o w . Sparrow startled a skunk and got sprayed. Being right in the line of fire, we got sprayed too and even the entire downstairs of M’s house was coated with a fine patina of stink which wafted in though the open front door.

Knowing that something tomato-y was in order, we rubbed down Sparrow with tomato paste, opened all of the windows of the house and proceeded to the party.

Fortunately, that evening’s festivities took place on our host’s deck (outside being key here). Throughout the night, amidst the chitter and the chatter someone would occasionally ask, “Do you smell that? Is that skunk?” Feeling sly, we of course responded, “Hmmm, there must be one in the woods somewhere.”

Needless to say, one whiff of myself the next morning convinced me that I had fooled no one the night before.

M and I have laughed many times about this escapade, along with just a few others – but that’s a story for another time. But as I lie here awake, at 3 a.m., nostrils burning and stomach churning, I can’t wait to tell her.

One other significant skunking incident included someone else’s dog and someone else’s house, and an extremely pregnant me. We were house-sitting and dog-sitting two days before my due date, so needless to say I was miserable, hot and cumbersome.

Sweet Ouzel (may he rest in peace) went out for his last jaunt of the night and suddenly yelped in astonishment. When we got him back inside, he ran around our friend’s house rubbing against the walls (upstairs and down) and rolling on the carpets trying to get the offending oil off. Being slightly less than agile and particularly sensitive to smells, I sat on the floor dry-heaving. When I finally got my wits back, I washed the poor creature in powdered Tide.

It didn’t work; not on the dog or the woodwork.

We were never asked to dog-sit or house-sit again.

So, tonight, poor Tessa has been banished to the outside of the tent, although, since she ran through here trying to get away from the liquid tomatoes, her perfume is still with us. I have my face pressed up against the screen, straining for fresh air.

I know that Tom is feeling anxious, that this will be the last straw and I will demand four walls and a roof over my head. Admittedly, if I did have indoor plumbing then I probably would have stayed inside this evening and this wouldn’t have happened, but it could have been worse.

Although, right this second I can’t think of how.

Tomorrow, I will go to the store and buy massive amounts of Summer’s Eve, having heard somewhere that the vinegar and water formula works well without the red staining of tomato juice. I’ll try anything – it’s got to be better than Tide.

My tent smells, my dumpster smells, my car smells. My olfactory senses have been thoroughly assaulted. The smell brings back memories. I laugh as think of the other skunkings and pray that one day I will laugh about this one too.

Because right now, it’s not really feeling very funny.

Published in Suzanne Strazza