Exploring Crescent City recently, we made a delicious discovery, the Rumiano Cheese retail store on Ninth Street.
It advertises its cheeses as GMO free and grass-fed. My wife bought some jack cheese.
Now, I’m normally not fond of jack or other mild cheeses, but when she offered me a slice, I was impressed and wanted more. We put the rest in our ice chest for the road home, thinking no more about it.
Then two days later, in Humboldt County, after a tourist stop in Ferndale, we were leisurely making our way back toward Highway 101 on Grizzly Bluff Road when we saw something that rekindled a discussion we’d been having during this trip.
At a dairy, we saw rows of small white crates, about 3 feet high, with a door hole in one end. My wife was curious about them, speculating that they might be used for transporting dairy products or even branding animals.
She had to know for sure, so we stopped.
The sign on the front of the milking barn said “Mike Brazil Dairy,” and I parked between the barn and the house and waited to see if my wife could find someone to talk to.
Our community gardens require a lot of work and cooperative effort, people working together with faith in each other and in God for the rain and sunshine to make them grow.
Since the one at Peterson Park is on my regular route to church, I’ve been watching it take shape over the past few years.
In the past, I have been terribly disappointed in the behavior of a few who seemed to make it their mission in life to trample, smash and ruin the work of others. Over and over, I saw it had happened when I drove by, and I wondered, where was everybody? Did no one see what was happening?
Thursday evening I looked as I drove by — and that garden, thanks to diligent care, looks absolutely beautiful.
Growing things is close to the heart for me — something that enhances faith. To see things destroyed is like trampling on that faith, and my trust in my fellow man.
Could it be that the trend not to discipline our children has brought this about?
I hope that this year, as that garden grows, the folks in the area will keep an eye on it and protect it. It’s a thing of beauty and will be an important source of food. And what a sense of accomplishment for those who care for it!
We just mailed the following letter to county supervisors, as they consider their role in the future of Sutter Coast Hospital. Sutter Health has hired a consultant group to help the hospital Board decide whether or not to transfer hospital ownership to Sutter Health, or cut Sutter Coast by 50 percent to qualify for higher Medicare reimbursement under the federal Critical Access program.
Had Sutter Coast been a Critical Access facility, the hospital would have been closed to new admissions the majority of days during the past eight months. Patients needing a hospital bed would have been flown by air ambulance, at their expense, to distant hospitals.
Dear Supervisors of Del Norte County:
We write with an update on the status of the Sutter Coast Hospital Strategic Options Study. This is a study about the future of Sutter Coast Hospital (SCH), being conducted and paid for by Sutter Health, using a consultant group (The Camden Group) with ongoing business connections to Sutter Health. As you know, the medical staff passed a unanimous resolution (among the physicians attending our medical staff meeting) that prior to participation in any study, we would like our concerns addressed with respect to the funding, design, and rights and responsibilities of community participants. The physicians have received no response to our concerns from Sutter Health or the Board of Directors of SCH.
We have also confirmed with two community members familiar with the study that outside funding remains available, as long as the study results are not predetermined. However, Sutter Health Regional President Mike Cohill and Sutter Health study coordinator Traci Van have rejected the outside independent funding. Thus, although the hospital Board voted to approve a collaboratively funded and independent study, the current study is entirely Sutter-funded and Sutter-controlled.
House Calls is published monthly. Today’s article was written by Peggy Castro, case management assistant at Sutter Coast Hospital.
Have you ever thought about who you would want contacted, or how an emergency worker would know how to contact those individuals if you had a medical emergency?
It’s important to carry a list of every medication you take, including over-the-counter vitamins and drug allergies, as well as a list of emergency contacts and how to reach them. It sounds so simple, but can be complicated by circumstances out of your control.
Communications to rescue and emergency workers can sometimes be hindered due to unexpected medical conditions. These conditions may make it impossible for you to speak or write.
Having a list of contacts in your wallet, car or on your cell phone, as well as a list of any known medical conditions, becomes vital in helping emergency workers provide the correct and appropriate care to you.
This information allows your rescue and emergency health-care team to make correct diagnoses and treatments for your possible illness, as well as being able to contact those loved ones who might be looking for you.
Ever since I can remember, Vacation Bible School has been one of the highlights of summer vacation. Kids — and, I suspect, parents — look forward to it, though perhaps for different reasons.
It’s fun for kids, a chance to learn something different, in an atmosphere that is less restrictive than that of “regular” school. (And, sadly, for some kids, it’s the only place they learn that “God” and “Jesus” are not just words of profanity.)
I remember, when I was in high school, helping to teach VBS at my church in a little town in upstate New York.
My class was 5- and 6- year-olds, and how those kids loved Bible stories! David and Goliath, Gideon and his fleece, Samson — and then, of course, the wonderful stories of the life of Jesus.
The availability of VBS here has varied over the years I’ve been writing this column, but we’ve always had several. I was getting worried it wasn’t going to happen this year, but the information is coming in and the kids are not going to be disappointed. They’ll learn about Jesus, have fun, and instead of complaining about being bored, they’ll be regaling Mom with tales of what was learned that morning.
A lot of our church congregations these days are too small to support a program — and sometimes some of them join together to put one on, and I think that is one great idea.
Editor’s note: Blair Westbrook originally wrote the following essay as part of a Del Norte Scholarship Fund application.
Every day when I drive the 16 miles home after a grueling day of music, academics, and a sports practice, I pass a weathered, time-tested tractor that sits in the shop yard at our family dairy farm.
This tractor, the oldest in the small fleet of John Deere tractors at Reservation Ranch, has seen a wide variety of uses and has had to be retooled multiple times to fit new jobs or purposes. Although not the smartest nor the most specialized, this tractor is a jack of all trades in a world of specialization and one-track-mindedness.
It was not until just recently that I realized its true vitality. This open-cabbed, unsophisticated workhorse was the one tool that had weathered the years of toil and tortuous conditions of work in an operation that had been living and residing concurrently with the land for decades.
I am that John Deere Tractor.
Growing and developing in a beautiful home, where the Smith River flows turquoise and crystal clear and redwood-covered mountains give way to rolling green pastures, my family has become more and more connected with the land.
For many families such as mine, a century of residence in our beautiful county has rooted us deeply in the land we hail from. This establishment of roots has helped generation after generation embrace a quality that applies to both the physical world and all other walks of life: stewardship.
Climates are funny things.
Living in Crescent City, I don’t really give much thought to summer. It’s just a calendar marker between when the kids get out of school (good heavens) and when they go back (thank heavens). While here in town we may have four seasons — autumn, rain, spring and fog — none of them is summer.
But summer is not hard to find. In many parts of Del Norte County, all it takes is a few minutes’ walk uphill or down, inland or seaward, to encounter a different microclimate. Consider the Point St. George headland, where Jack McNamara Field hosts Crescent City’s official weather station. That thing seems to consistently record weather 5–10 degrees cooler, winds 10–15 mph faster, and fog 15–20 percent murkier than anywhere else in Crescent City, to say nothing of the county.
(Perhaps the Chamber of Commerce should look into a way of recording more tourist-friendly measurements closer to where people live.)
During Crescent City’s so-called summer, it’s possible for it to be sunny all day at one end of a street while it’s foggy and overcast all day just a few blocks away.
Often, there seems to be a cold cloud hovering just over Crescent City while all around it the weather is bright and warm, as if to confirm my suspicion that Mother Nature has a grudge against the Tsunami City.
But Del Norte is far more than its quirky coastal basins. If the county had an official summer pastime, it would be repairing to its hot river canyons for sunning and swimming. There, summer in all its bright, hot glory is a reliable presence, proving an otherwise astounding fact about Del Norte climatology.
I moved to Del Norte County in July 1997, choosing here over Sequim, Wash., due to the beauty of the Smith River and giant redwoods and a few other reasons.
I have lived in numerous rural communities and, until Del Norte County, never read so many articles that contradict or conflict with each other like I have in the Triplicate.
I’ve seen in city government's corruption and greed, honesty and true caring for each other and their surroundings. Since I was old enough to read and comprehend articles, I’ve paid attention to what the government does, especially on the city level since it actually affects my life.
In our Triplicate, I’ve read of a real and just concern over the dwindling student population as well as concern over why our population contains so many homeless, indigent and those who live on various forms of government assistance. I’ve also read of concerns on how to boost tourism in order to bring more, much needed, money here.
Then I read articles that contradict the articles mentioned above. For example, I believe the same reasons I chose Del Norte County are the reasons tourists come here — giant redwoods, the mighty Pacific, the Smith River and much more. The best way to boost tourism could also aid in school populations. The county needs to consider eco-friendly concepts for new businesses, new county-sponsored events and infrastructure in the areas we lack.
In April 2011, I travelled to El Centro in Imperial County to meet with Attorney General Kamala Harris on a fact-finding tour of cartel drug and human trafficking at the Mexican border. As I told an assembly of law enforcement officials at that time, the biggest threat to the peace and security of my county, Del Norte, 1,009 miles away, was the importation of Mexican crystal methamphetamine, that according to DEA estimates, accounts for over 80 percent of all meth in the United States.
That poison then makes its way up the I-5 corridor, turns left at Grants Pass and arrives in Del Norte County and was involved in over 75 percent of the felonies on my desk as district attorney.
More recently, I listened to the ongoing debate on whether the United States should be militarily involved in Syria, mostly due to the possible use of chemical weapons by the Assad government. Never far from mind, the U.S. commitment to a 10-year war in Iraq based upon Saddam Hussein’s unproven use of “weapons of mass destruction.” And a presidential visit to newly elected Mexican President Pena Nieto, in which Mexico’s fast-evaporating war on drugs was relegated to a distant second behind a polite, benign chat over economic relations.
The Mexican meth that is crippling Del Norte County is not just a county issue, but a national one. Well known, President Nieto’s PRI party, longtime bedfellows with the cartels, has taken a sharp detour from his predecessor’s attempted battle to overcome the cartels’ stranglehold on the law enforcement and judiciary systems in that country. Mexico’s drug trade that feeds this country’s $65 billion consumption in illegal drugs each year.
I was back in Imperial County recently to meet with District Attorney Gilbert Otero and members of the Law Enforcement Command Center (LECC). I was informed again that 80 percent of all meth entering the United States is coming from the massive Mexican meth labs, most notably those controlled by the Sinaloa cartel and its leader Joaquin “Chapo” Guzman and that 60-80 percent of that crystal meth entered at San Diego and then makes its way up the I-5 corridor. I was further provided with statistics showing that in the almost two years since I toured the area with Attorney General Harris, there had been a 57 percent increase in seizures and for the same time period a 65 percent increase in smuggling incidents.
Would you, in your wildest dreams, connect West Point and the children’s song “Jesus Loves Me”?
I never know what I’m going to find when I pick up Robert J. Morgan’s book, “Then Sings My Soul,” to research hymns.
And would you think that a couple of female, non-military Bible teachers would be buried with military honors in the West Point Cemetery?
So many of our beautiful hymns have come about out of tragedy and adversity, and this is another one.
Sisters Anna and Susan Werner, daughters of a successful New York City lawyer in the 1830s, had their accustomed lifestyle turned upside down, forcing them to find ways to supplement the family income, thanks to the “Panic of 1837.”
They did so by writing and publishing poems and stories, and teaching Bible classes to the cadets at West Point.
One novel they wrote, “Say and Seal,” was about a very sick little boy. A point of comfort for him was a song called “Jesus Loves Me.” The novel was very successful, (second only to “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”) and caught the attention of hymn-writer William Bradbury.
Bradbury set her words to the simple tune we almost all learned as children. It’s the song sung by Oklahoma schoolchildren last week when tornadoes swirled around their school.