Some observations post-Measure N

When times are tough, or something threatens to shake up the local power structure, the nasty dogs come out in force. Just look at how people are reacting to the narrow election margin on Measure N, the Gold Rush referendum.

The final vote count put the Yes folks up 16 votes. The No folks, the No on Measure N committee of Preserve Historic Sutter Creek, have requested a recount.

This should not be a big deal. Recounts are pretty normal for close elections, and just part of the process. Remember that certain presidential election a few years ago?

But some of the pro-Gold Rush folks have gone ballistic (see the comments on the Amador Ledger-Dispatch website.) They’re attacking PHSC, individual PHSC members, and anyone else they consider to be an opponent of the type of sprawling super-sized subdivision Gold Rush represents.

They’re also dredging up history – and getting their facts wrong in the process. They’re attacking me for the actions of a family to which I’m not related (apparently spelling is not their strong suit). They’re attacking the Foothill Conservancy for being the same as Protect Historic Amador Waterways, which if it weren’t so wrong would be sorta funny, considering that PHAW actually sued the Conservancy at one point.

You’d think the narrow vote on Measure N would give people pause. After all, it does show that a substantial number of Sutter Creek voters are opposed to the Gold Rush project as approved. Remember, we’re talking 16 votes. The Sutter Creek City Council and pro-GR folks should be thinking long and hard about that. If anything, they represent only the barest of majorities on this issue.

To their credit, the Gold Rush developers’ response has been rather subdued. They’re not out celebrating in the streets, gloating, or attacking the Sutter Creek residents who voted No. Instead, they’re inviting them to talk. It’s a nice gesture, and ought to be a sign to their attack dogs to back off. But it’s also relatively meaningless, since they’ve never before responded to the concerns of that strong near-majority (or maybe an actual majority) who oppose Gold Rush.

And of course, the developers spent about $140,000 on the election, compared to the approximately $5,000 PHSC spent. Plus, they’ve been knocking on doors and selling their project to locals for what, eight years? I think the close margin was a surprise to them. If I were them, I’d be sober, too.

It amazes, but does not surprise me to see PHSC accused of “dividing Sutter Creek.” If anyone has divided the town, it’s the developers and council members who ignored the sincere concerns of a substantial number of local residents over the last few years. They could have listened and made an effort to work out a project everyone could live with. But they chose the path of conflict, instead.

Time will tell what lessons, if any, are learned from this referendum election, and what the long-term effects will be in Sutter Creek and the county at large. Stay tuned.

Voices for civility

Last week, Amador Ledger Dispatch Publisher Jack Mitchell published an opinion piece that was anything but civil. Mitchell fell back into an ugly, old habit I keep hoping he will outgrow: calling people names and demonizing individuals and groups with whom he disagrees.

In this week's paper, the defamed citizens -- and several others -- responded. But not in kind. They called Mitchell on his bad behavior. But they also called out for respectful, civil discourse.

One letter-writer even pointed out that Mitchell had engaged in exactly that on his front porch when she knocked on his door to ask him to sign the referendum petition challenging the Gold Rush Ranch approval.

Good people can disagree without being disagreeable, juvenile, disrespectful, and hateful. They can, in the words of the famed negotiating book Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement Without Giving In, "Be hard on the problem and soft on the people."

That's important everywhere. In small communities like ours, it's critical. No matter what happens with an issue that causes us to disagree today, tomorrow there will still be neighbors to help, causes to support, and community needs to address. We must build and nurture the relationships that allow us to work together, not allow our differences to tear us apart.

I'm so proud of the good people in this county who realize that and put it into practice every day. They -- not the folks who resort to personal attack when they don't get their way -- are our true local leaders. And they are the ones who will help us find a path to a prosperous and sustainable future while preserving the small town and rural values we all hold dear.

Some old but still good random thoughts

This morning, I was looking for an old op-ed piece I'd written in response to one of Amador Ledger Dispatch Publisher Jack Mitchell's attack pieces (Jack's been stuck in attack mode for as long as I can remember). I couldn't find what I was looking for, but did find another commentary I never finished. It seems relevant today, so I thought I'd share an edited excerpt:

Elected officials ignore new ways of thinking at our county’s expense. If they only listen to the people who think like them, they’ll never be challenged to broaden their thinking, find creative solutions, or move beyond the ordinary to the exceptional. They’ll also motivate those who opposed them in the last election to organize for the next one. Power politics begets more power politics—it’s self-perpetuating.

So it’ll be interesting to see whether our elected officials actually work to represent everyone or only their supporters. It’ll say a lot about them as people. And it will give us some sense of where our county is headed: to a positive future focused on problem-solving and common ground, or one bogged down in infighting and dysfunction.

Sierra foothill Christmas Day

Sunny, clear and crisp. Light frost in the morning.

Later we headed out to drive, walk and observe ...

Very little traffic.

Sheep and goats grazed where llamas stood guard. Calves are growing. The deer dressed now for winter's cold.

Turkeys loitered on new grass under a broad, bare-limbed oak.

Acorns abound.

A lone angler at the Middle Bar Bridge found refuge from the chaos of Christmas cooking and the temptation of food on every countertop. Fish weren't biting, but that mattered little.

The Mokelumne flowed clear and cold. A lone bald eagle soared overhead. Willows wore warm winter gray.













The trail's grass and leaves were slick from recent rains. Lichen, moss and fungi flourished. Lovely oak woodland. Gnarly old manzanita. Black slate here, white quartz there. Goldfinches.













Quiet now, except for geese. (Geese are not often quiet.) Not a duck in sight.

Returned on Gwin Mine Road. Patch on patch, but not a single car or truck. Dry remains of last year's flowers -- moth mullein, dudleya.

Red-tail hunted above the hills.

Jackson was quiet as people cooked and dined. First responders had no holiday. CHP, sheriff and police cruised; Jackson Fire and CalFire responded. A vehicle fire? Volunteers' dinners had to wait.

Clerks at Safeway wore Santa hats. Young men bought beer. Lots of it. One woman bought seasoning -- the missing ingredient?

Where do gossip magazines fit on Christmas?

Home to nap, then Sally's gift of Virginia ham.

Season's greetings to you, whatever your belief or holiday tradition. Enjoy the beauty and peace of this wonderful place we live.

A few random thoughts for early November

I haven't fallen off the planet, folks -- I've just been really busy with the big EBMUD fight. It was a good reminder that until we get the Mokelumne River protected with National Wild and Scenic River designation, we will be fighting these battles over and over.

Now I'm trying to catch up on everything I let go over the last few months -- my house, the Conservancy newsletter, visiting family and friends, etc.

The other day I did get-out-the-vote work for (new Congressman!) John Garamendi in Antioch. My GOTV partner and I worked in a nicely maintained suburban-style subdivision of the kind many people leave to move to the foothills. It had wide streets, well-kept homes, and absolutely no sign of human life during the workday (there were dogs at home, lots of dogs, mostly of the small yippy type).

To many people, this kind of subdivision represents the American dream: a nice home in a decent neighborhood with a good school nearby. There's certainly nothing wrong with that.

And it gave me some insight into why people may support this kind of project when it's proposed for our own local towns (as at Gold Rush Ranch). They may have lived in a place just like that before they came to our little county, or know people who do. Those subdivisions define so much of California living today.

To build that kind of subdivision, builders bulldoze the trees, mass-grade the land, and turn the site into a sort of generic California subdivision blank slate. Then they build homes that look an awful lot alike, and people quickly plant trees, lawns, and other landscaping to try to get some semblance of nature to return to their otherwise paved-over neighborhood. And they try to customize the homes -- at least to the extent allowed by the community's rules.

This neighborhood was a decent, clean and relatively safe place to live. But when you compare it to the older neighborhoods in small towns like Sutter Creek and Jackson, it was a place without character or soul. And I think that character, that soul, that unique sense of place, is part of what makes our small towns so special.

As local officials consider the large subdivisions being sold to them now in the guise of progress or economic salvation, they really need to think about that. Do we want to turn special places like Sutter Creek into anytown California?

Protected rivers are an economic resource

Earlier this month, we took a vacation and went to Idaho to raft the Middle Fork of the Salmon River. It's one of the country's original National Wild and Scenic Rivers.

Right before we left, we heard that some members of the Amador County Board of Supervisors were worried about the economic impacts of designating the Mokelumne a National Wild and Scenic River. I was happy to send them some studies about the local economic benefits of Wild and Scenic Rivers.

I also pointed out that on our trip to visit the Middle Fork Salmon the following week, we would be spending money in the Idaho local economy on meals, lodging, car rental, a car shuttle, gasoline, and supplies for our trip.

At the same time, the outfitter with whom we took the trip, OARS of Angels Camp, pays salaries to guides, charters small planes to take people to the river and buses to return them to town, buys huge quantities of food and supplies, and makes a major contribution to the local economy. And OARS is just one of the many outfitters that run the Middle Fork and other Idaho rivers.

The little towns we visited seemed to appreciate the river recreation business that helps keep them alive.

The Mokelumne is considerably smaller than the Middle Fork Salmon, of course. It won't ever be as big an economic engine as that river, but protecting the Mokelumne as it is today would ensure that money our community already receives from river recreation continues. People already visit our river to kayak, swim, innertube, fish, rock climb, camp, hike, hunt, view wildflowers and enjoy the scenic beauty. Everyone who visits the Mokelumne loves it, and most come back.

In addition, if East Bay MUD will ever cooperate and allow commercial rafting on the Electra-Middle Bar run (which OARS wants to do), or an outfitter starts to run the wilder sections of the river upstream, even more money will come into our local businesses from people who travel and spend money to visit the nation's special rivers. Our Middle Fork trip included river-lovers from Texas, Illinois, Ohio, New Jersey and California, all of whom were willing to fork out some serious cash to spend six wonderful days floating a river in the middle of the largest contiguous wilderness area in the lower 48 states.

On our way home, we had supper with a friend who works for Idaho Rivers United, a conservation organization. He talked about how his group has worked with Republican Senator Mike Crapo to protect the state's rivers.

The folks in Idaho need water every bit as much as Californians do. It's a very dry state, and a very politically conservative one. It's also a place where people really enjoy the outdoors for hunting, fishing and more. And they obviously understand that keeping some of their rivers flowing free benefits Idahoans and local communities in many ways.

Amador County residents understand the importance of our Mokelumne River, as shown by the huge opposition to the proposed expansion of Pardee Dam. And more and more of them are supporting National Wild and Scenic River designation for the Mokelumne, since it's the only way to ensure we have a river in our future.

Maybe our county supervisors will join them one day.

Responding to the taxpayers

When I send a letter or e-mail to an elected official, I nearly always receive a response of some sort. That's true whether I'm writing for myself or on behalf of an organization. And it's true whether I write to our state senator or assemblywoman, U.S. Congressional rep or senator, a local city councilmember, or even the East Bay Municipal Utility District directors.

Sometimes it takes a while to get a reply. And sometimes the replies are obvious boilerplate. But still, the officials nearly always respond in some way.

Not so with the Amador County Board of Supervisors. When I send them information or ask questions by e-mail or snail mail, they seldom even acknowledge having received the communication. And it's exceptionally rare for a supervisor to respond in a substantive way.

It's puzzling. Our supervisors like to say that decisions should be made locally, where government is closest to and most responsive to the taxpayer. But just whom are they responsive to?

I've been a county taxpayer for more than 30 years. I've done a thing or do to contribute to our county. The organization I most often represent is made up primarily of Amador County residents. But the supervisors can't even find time to say, "Thanks for your comments. I'll think about them."?

I worked in government for nearly 25 years, most of it in state service. Both state agencies I worked for had a communication policy regarding response to public comments or questions. They both required acknowledging all communication within a certain amount of time, and a full response by a specific deadline. The policies applied to everyone, from the executive director on down. And no way would the elected officials on the boards of those agencies ever consider ignoring a comment from a taxpayer, regardless of its nature or what they might think of the individual or group. Even totally crazy, off-the-wall comments received a response.

One of those agencies even required everyone -- including the executive management -- to take customer service training. While taxpayers are not customers in the conventional sense (you don't get to pick your tax agency), that did lead to a better focus on the taxpayer. Responding to correspondence is just one example of what government agencies do to serve the public.

Our elected officials, including county supervisors, work for us. All of us. They don't just work for the people they know or like or agree with -- or those who helped them get elected.

So why is it that our supervisors cannot bring themselves to even acknowledge contacts from a local taxpayer?

I'd really like to know.