Mari’s Climb, a three-part series running Thursday through Saturday about a lo­cal wom­an who was par­­alyzed after contracting a food-borne illness, is notable in several re­gards.

Most im­portantly, it couldn’t have been done without the willingness of Mari Tardiff and her husband, Peter, to totally open up about the ordeal that has turned their lives upside down for the past 17 months. They granted Triplicate reporter Nick Grube incredible access into their minds, their hearts and their home.

As a result, Nick’s articles will go beyond recounting what transpired — even though that account is riveting and will be told in detail for the first time. You’ll also know what the Tardiff family was thinking and feeling before and after Mari got sick. This affords a deep understanding of the challenges they have wrestled with ever since the fateful day when Mari opened her refrigerator and found catastrophe.

Interwoven with the Tardiffs’ story will be a broader look at the issues raised by Mari’s illness.

At bigger newspapers, rep­orters would be able to focus all their efforts on a project such as this. That’s not possible at a paper our size; Nick has continued to cover city and county government and myriad other stories while working on this series. Occasionally colleagues have pinch-hit for him, but the fact remains that he has accomplished something noteworthy because of his dedication and his willingness to sweat.

He’s known for months that the Tardiffs deserve nothing less than that.

Del Norte County’s political landscape is often described as green versus brown more than Republican versus Democrat. When it comes to the traditional political parties, we’re about 50-50. It’s harder to measure green/brown allegiance, but certainly both “sides” are represented when it comes to debates over growth control and stewardship of our vast tracts of public land.

But a funny thing is happening here on the North Coast. While our Democrats and Republicans have long worked together on local issues for the betterment of the community, the lines between brown and green are now blurring as well.

Sure, we’ll still squabble over thorny issues like where all-terrain vehicles should be allowed on public property and how to balance the needs for economic growth and environmental protection. But the business community here is increasingly embracing the concept of ecological enterprise — for profit.

Green, after all, is the color of money.

Continually, the citizens of Crescent City are being misled by City Councilwoman Donna Westfall, and now her most current escapade regarding the sewer plant.

“It’s easier to believe a lie heard a thousand times than the truth heard once.”

Councilwoman Westfall has publicly stated on various occasions that she likes to grandstand, engage in theatrics, and admits she doesn't know how government works.”  Clearly, she has proven this self-assessment repeatedly. Westfall is not fit to serve the people.

Not only does Westfall not know how government works, she continually makes false, misleading statements and accusations that further her one-horse, destructive political agenda.

Laura and I headed out aimlessly for a walk late Saturday morning. Maybe a jog. We didn’t have a specific plan until we saw something special at sea.

There’s an unusual access at the north end of the Pebble Beach Drive bluff, just before the road curves into its descent toward Washington Boulevard. A long stairway takes you not all the way to the beach, but to the flat top of a rock wall. It’s a mini-adventure getting down to the sand from there at low tide. You wouldn’t even try at high tide.

We often descend these stairs partway to a perch perfect for watching sunsets. If the tide is way in, the waves crashing against that rock wall provide their own entertainment.

On Saturday, we just happened to arrive when the tide was way in. It was the peak of the highest tide in many weeks, and we didn’t need a chart to figure that out. Muscular waves were lining up for their crack at the shore.

We need to decide what kind of garbage and recycling pickup service we want in the future.

We need to figure out how to configure our elementary schools for maximum efficiency and effectiveness.

We need to make the best possible use of an extraordinary opportunity to improve the health of our community, especially our children’s.

This past year has been surreal. Phrases once taken for granted, like “innocent until proven guilty,” are now painfully laughable.

Within 24 hours of being arrested, I was tried and convicted in the media. Before I ever saw a judge, or heard the actual charges, people from Gold Beach all the way to Eureka, were hearing a vilifying, sensationalized version from the radio, television and newspaper.

Business-wise, the damage was done no matter the final outcome. Personally, it was just beginning.

The following six months of court dates ended with a dismissal, but it felt like six months of walking in the dark, never knowing what was coming or when the bottom might fall out.

Business almost stopped completely, Christmas sales were non-existent and every month posed the question, “Will this be the month we close a business I’ve had open for 12 years?”

Maj. Dominic Oto of the Oregon National Guard had unfinished business when he came home from war. He had been in the same armored vehicle as de Solenni, part of a convoy heading to Kandahar on Sept. 20, 2008. In fact, Oto told an Oregonian reporter, he and de Solenni had tossed a coin to see who would have to drive.

“I lost the coin toss, so I was driving,” Oto said. “That’s probably what saved me when we got hit by a 500-pound IED.”

The 37,000-pound vehicle was thrown 20 feet in the air. Oto suffered two herniated disks in his back and a dislocated shoulder and was sent back to the United States a week later. De Solenni was killed instantly.

“When I got back, I was a mess,” Oto said. “I had a lot of guilt over Bruno passing. I really did feel in my heart of hearts that he was a better man than me.”

“I think about him all the time. Always part of my mind is there in that day.”

The Highway 101 traffic corridor flowing through a row of national chains and fast food outlets is not Crescent City’s most elegant physical feature.  

It is good to show where the monument (designed by architect and City Councilman Charles Slert) is proposed to be located at the S curve.  However, the white frame mock-up there (now replaced by a sign with flags) was misleading, because the monument is a solid geometrical block on an 80-foot pad with five flagpoles, and upward facing night lighting that cost money daily and is bad for wildlife near Elk Creek.

In urban design terms, H Street is appropriately centered about halfway between the 101 corridors and beautiful Pebble Beach Drive. H Street is slowly becoming an attractive, walkable civic center. From the county administrative offices, one passes the freshly painted veteran’s building, the historical society museum, and the county courthouse. The street has a calm, pedestrian friendly feel with small residences and businesses as one continues on to the Front Street Park with an ocean view vista. 

At the proposed S curve location, the monument becomes a poorly recognized drive-by element in an intersection that is already filled with a variety of visual distractions.  The tail end of the southbound 101 lanes is already awkward for pedestrians and cars. There would not be enough space for it to stand out and gain the civic respect deserved of such a monument.

Perhaps the lure of classic cars brought you here this weekend. If so, welcome to Del Norte County.

It’s a place where you can experience solitude while soaking in world-class scenery, but you’ll have plenty of company in Beachfront Park during today’s 18th annual Sea Cruise. After all, what could be better than strolling a bayside greenway, weaving through hundreds of automotive beauties?

Enough to rouse me from the television set for a low-tide stroll that, for all its twilight beauty, was most remarkable for what it lacked. At the time of day when bluster is almost a given on the coast, the sea was holding its breath Sunday evening.

My plan for a quick down-and-back dissolved. The second half of the Steelers game could wait. I’d been watching it in bizarre fashion anyway, with a chair pulled close to the TV so I could follow the action on one of eight miniature video feeds on what my satellite provider calls a “sports mix.” This is thanks to the Eureka NBC affiliate refusing to grant a waiver allowing me to watch its network on an L.A. station since DirectTV doesn’t provide the local channels, but all that seemed trivial in the pink-hued surf.

After gazing at the spectacle from above, I started along the sand determined to take in whatever the darkening sky had left to show. The stillness was almost eerie, as if I were on a tropical island. That thought took me back to Wednesday, when an earthquake in the South Pacific swamped the Samoas and prompted a tsunami alert here.