Locke, Once a Bustling Chinese Community ...

Note: This was one of those stories that I still think about -- I spent part of day in this place, and will always remember it.

By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Times
May 6, 2002

LOCKE -- Plans are moving forward to resurrect the downtown ghosts of this ramshackle river town, whose paint and memories are fading fast.

Once a bustling Chinese community of 1,500, Locke struggles to survive today with about 70 residents. Only a dozen are Chinese.

Many of the handsome, timber-dry buildings that crowd Main Street are splintered and sagging relics to better days.

But townsfolk Saturday will celebrate a land transfer to a Sacramento County agency that promises to preserve the Delta town, whose cultural history is too rich to ignore.

"Now, I'm very happy. I think we're finally on the right track," said 84-year-old Ping Lee, whose father co-founded Locke in 1915. "In other words, my dream came true."

Historic Locke, about 30 miles south of Sacramento, is the last rural community built and occupied exclusively by the Chinese.

Exclusionary racial laws, however, prohibited Chinese settlers from owning the land on which their rickety buildings sat.

So the folks who created Locke on rented property watched helplessly as time chewed holes in their clapboard structures. Many frustrated residents moved away.

"I hardly carry any Chinese produce because there are so few Chinese here," said Dustin Marr, who runs Yuen Chong & Co. Grocery and Meat Market on Main Street.

"That part of our history here is almost gone."

In recent years, a badly decaying sewer system that residents could not afford to repair threatened to force the three-block town into extinction.

But in July 2000, a landmark deal was struck with the Sacramento Housing and Redevelopment Agency, which salvaged Locke's future.

In February, the agency completed its $250,000 purchase of the land under town, ending a painstaking process that had kept Locke in limbo.

In doing so, the agency is free to move ahead with plans to subdivide Locke's 10-acre parcel into individual lots.

The arrangement gives the owners of the 50 wooden buildings a chance to finally become landowners, allowing them to apply for fix-up grants that could pave the way toward preservation and economic recovery.

"Maybe this is the time to preserve it," said Marr, standing alone in his empty market, listening to a scratchy radio.
"If we preserve it and acknowledge the contributions of our early settlers, that's fine — but as far as Chinese people coming back, I don't know."

While it remains unknown what changes lie ahead, county officials have the difficult task of trying to preserve Locke's rich history and unique character.

Immediate plans include starting construction on the new sewer system, a $1 million job expected to begin this summer.

In addition, the agency hopes to draft and submit a preservation plan to the Sacramento County Board of Supervisors by the end of the year.

"People in Locke have practical day-to-day concerns about how they'll be allowed to live their lives," said Stephen Young, the housing agency's director of community development.

"And there are some part of them who would prefer that we subdivide the land, fix the sewer and leave them alone … But we have larger public policy goals that we're trying to address."

The challenges ahead, Young said, include forming a politically balanced nonprofit group that would serve as a town manager.
"We realize that there is a lot of concern. We don't want to overdo it," said Clarence Chu, property manager for Locke Property Development Inc., which sold the land to the county.

"We don't want to change into a theme park or a San Francisco Chinatown."

Chu, who owns nine buildings in Locke, envisions reviving Main Street, creating a sort of historical tribute to the Chinese immigrants who helped shape the Delta.

Chinese settlers descended on the Delta in large numbers during the Gold Rush, often cramming together in crowded ghettos.

Clusters of small villages sprang up along the river channels, including Rio Vista, Walnut Grove and Isleton. While many settlements were eventually folded into suburban sprawl, Locke survived.

The town grew rapidly after a fire destroyed the Chinese section of Walnut Grove in 1915.

In its heyday, Locke boasted nine grocery stores, six restaurants, a theater, a hotel, a flour mill, gambling halls and bordellos.
It's been on a steady decline for decades, as the old-timers died off and their offspring moved away.

"When I came here in 1949, there were Chinese children running all around, and there was a Chinese school," longtime resident Connie King said. "There were New Year celebrations, excitement. There's nothing now."

Indeed, Locke's assortment of peeling buildings and boarded-up windows gives it the look and feel of a ghost town.

On a recent day, the only sound came from a few chirping birds and an occasional hammer blow, as workers repaired several dilapidated storefronts.

A painter stood on a ladder, putting the finishing touches to the front door of the River Road Gallery.

Nearby, a few tourists wandered into Al the Wop's restaurant, the first non-Chinese business when it opened in 1934.

While Locke grapples with its future, Chu is excited about the potential for a town renaissance.

"A lot of people come here and see that it's small and rundown, but they neglect the history here," he said.

"There's a lot of pride. We want to gather information for the public, saying 'Don't feel sorry for this town — you should be very proud of it.' These are positives we want to promote in a museum."

Others are skeptical about the outside influences that could strip Locke of its quirky nature and independent spirit.

One tiny grocery had this handwritten note plastered to its front door: "Open some days about 10 or 11; occasionally as early as 9 but some days as late as 12 or 1."

Elephant Captivity Raises Concerns

Note: I worked on this story for many months, one of the rare chances to spend that kind of time chipping away at what I hoped would be a great story. What I found was that a local park, in Vallejo, had more elephant deaths than any other during a specific period.


By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
March 17, 2003

More elephants have died at Six Flags Marine World in Vallejo than at any other accredited zoo in the country since 1996, according to records reviewed by the Times.

Six elephants died at the 140-acre theme park between 1996 and 2002, including two euthanized for chronic arthritis and one for a crippling leg deformity. The other deaths were one from a viral infection, and a stillborn baby and its mother from birth-related complications.

Park officials say they exhausted all alternatives in each case but were unable to spare the animals.

Over the same period, five elephants died at the Oakland Zoo -- two stillborns, one from a viral infection, an infant trampled by its mother and a bull from a mysterious illness.

The deaths at the two dissimilar zoos and other accredited institutions raises difficult questions about the general welfare of captive elephants in North America.

In the past six years, 55 elephants died at member institutions of the American Zoological and Aquarium Association. More than half, or 58 percent, did not have a listed cause of death.

Critics say captivity causes unnecessary pain and misery for the world's largest land animals.

Elephants are dying young, they say, and are often depressed, bored, cramped and lonely -- swaying neurotically because of their natural need to roam.

Zoo leaders say new care standards and progressive management philosophies are leading to treatment that is better than ever.

Also, they argue, captive elephants play a key role in promoting public education as well as inciting U.S.-led advances in science, biology and veterinary medicine that also benefit wild animals.

The 208-member zoo association, the world's largest, has had discussions in recent years about whether to phase elephants out of its collections -- ending a 200-year history of public captivity.

"But we decided that we could not do as good a job with education, conservation or science if we did not have them in our collections," said Michael Hutchins, association director of conservation and science.

Instead, in March 2001 they rolled out strict policies of elephant care that each member institution is urged to follow.

The standards, which are being phased in over several years, include everything from improving the size and design of barns and exhibits to ensuring access to fresh water.

The ethical wrangling occurs as the mammals fight for survival. Their numbers have steadily declined because of poaching and a ballooning human population in their native ranges.

An estimated 400,000 to 500,000 African elephants are left in the wild and 35,000 to 45,000 of the Asian species remain.

Elephants are sensitive and highly intelligent creatures that travel in large herds, led by an older female, with a distinct social order that focuses on caring for their young.

"I think we have a lot of work to do in terms of doing a good job of keeping elephants in captivity," said Colleen Kinzley, the Oakland Zoo's elephant manager and animal curator.

"They don't live as long in captivity as they do in the wild," she said. "We clearly struggle with reproducing elephants and that affects our ability to provide them with a natural social group."

In Vallejo, the six deaths represent 11 percent of all the elephants that died in association-accredited zoos since 1996. Marine World is an accredited zoo as well as a theme park.

Animal rights activists, who sued the theme park last year to prevent it from acquiring a pair of baby Asian pachyderms from India, have called on the park to scuttle its elephant exhibit.

Park officials say the activists are stirring up "media campaigns" to smear their reputation, and say they have done nothing wrong.

None of the deaths was avoidable, they say, including that of Tika, an African elephant who died at age 24 in November from an untreatable infection when a calf died in her womb.

"Not one of them was lost due to anything that any human had done or could have prevented," said park spokesman Jeff Jouett.
Misha, another park elephant, is pregnant and due to give birth this month.

Critics say Marine World is a noisy, stressful environment unfair to exotic animals like elephants. The park re-opened Saturday with its sixth roller coaster, Zonga.

"It really shouldn't be an AZA-accredited facility," said Pat Derby, a former Hollywood animal trainer who co-founded the Performing Animal Welfare Society in Galt, a sanctuary near Stockton.

"It's really an embarrassment to the AZA. (Marine World) is a roller coaster park, not an institution for higher learning."

Jouett said the park, which is closed 209 days a year, is not stressful and that the rides are designed far from the animal exhibits.

About 600 elephants are featured in U.S. zoos, theme parks, circuses and private preserves, including 13 in the Bay Area.
Oversight of the animal exhibition industry is limited.

The U.S. Department of Agriculture regulates the industry but has only 99 inspectors -- its largest team ever -- to monitor 2,549 animal exhibitors.

An arm of the department, the Animal and Plant Inspection Service, conducts thousands of routine inspections a year.

But the service does not always pay annual visits to exhibitors, which are not required to notify the agency when an animal dies.

"They do have to note the death in their vet medical records, which we have access to upon inspection," said Jim Rogers, agency spokesman. "We can ask, 'Hey, we noticed Jo Jo is missing -- what's the story on that?'"

At Marine World, three park elephants were euthanized between 1996 and 1999. None of the cases included a specific cause of death in zoo association records.

Jouett, who did not know why a cause of death was omitted, said the records had been forwarded to the zoo association.

Each animal had been "humanely euthanized" at UC Davis, he said, to prevent further suffering.

The three elephants were:

Bandula, or "Bandi," euthanized in 1996 after suffering chronic arthritis and severe joint pain stemming from a front leg being shorter than the other, Jouett said. She was 27 or 30.

Ginny, euthanized in 1998 after suffering from "chronic deteriorating arthritis," according to medical records. She was 58, the oldest zoo elephant in North America at the time.

Judy, euthanized in 1999 because of deformities in her rear legs, which limited her ability to move. She was 33.

Asked whether captivity had spurred the arthritis and joint problems, David Blasko, Marine World's veteran director of animal operations, said no.

The animals were hobbled by the problems for years, he said, and the pain worsened as they grew older.

In November, the park surrendered its federal permits to import a pair of endangered young Asian elephants because it had not completed arrangements to transport the animals from India.

Animal rights groups say the park backed down because of their federal lawsuit, filed in October to block the move.

In the aftermath of Tika's death, In Defense of Animals, a plaintiff in the federal lawsuit, called on Marine World to scuttle its elephant exhibit.

Park employees were devastated by the loss; officials said they had no choice but to end Tika's suffering.

"We didn't want her to live and suffer until the bacterial infection actually killed her," said Jouett, who said the activist group lacked compassion.

When Kala died, more criticism was heaped on Marine World.

Kala, a baby elephant on loan from a Missouri zoo, died of a herpes virus infection in November 2000 -- six months after arriving at Marine World.

Jane Garrison, an elephant specialist formerly with the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, was particularly outraged. She had warned the park about taking the 2-year-old animal from its mother and into a stressful, unfamiliar environment.

Jouett said Kala died of the virus, not from stress over the transfer. He said Kala was happy with his new elephant family, especially Taj, the park's oldest pachyderm.

The captive elephant controversy has swirled even as the zoo industry embraces change.

More than half of association members -- including Oakland, an early pioneer -- now use a management program called "protected contact," in which barriers are used to separate animals from their keepers.

By comparison, the traditional zoos allow free interaction and, some say, abuse.

Zoo leaders say they remain committed to their vision of creating a self-sustaining population of elephants in North America, which they see as critical for the species' survival.

A leading zoo director said the beasts are not self-sustaining here because of low birth rates, not high death rates.

"Most animals are not in a breeding situation," said Bob Wiese, director of animal operations at the Fort Worth Zoo.
Critics say they worry about all the sacrifices and years of poor care.

"We've had 200 years of elephants in captivity. In that time period, we haven't learned much," said Richard Farinato, director of the captive wildlife program for the U.S. Humane Society.

"If we haven't figured it out yet, what makes you think we ever will?"

Oakland zookeepers have wrestled with the issue after a string of elephant deaths.

In September 2001, Dohani, a 10-day-old calf who had bonded with his mother, was found dead in his stall. The baby had died of a single, crushing blow from its mother, Lisa.

Six months earlier, Smokey, a wildly successful breeding bull, died at age 29 of a mysterious illness.

In trying to create a more natural setting, Oakland is tripling the size of its elephant exhibit, giving the animals more room to browse and socialize.

Derby, of the Performing Animal Welfare Society, said she is encouraged by zoos like Oakland.

She said her expanded 100-acre elephant sanctuary in San Andreas is one of the two largest enclosures for the animals in the country.

"Our African elephants are in a really good place," she said. "But we hold our breath every day."

Vigilance Remains High on Base

By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
March 21, 2003

As U.S. cruise missiles whistled through Baghdad, a sense of organized calm fell over the Bay Area's largest military base.
A few rifle-toting guards watched the main gate. The pace was slow, the business routine.

Travis Air Force Base, the city's largest employer, took on the look and feel of a sleeping giant Thursday.

Scores of active-duty military personnel had already boarded huge cargo planes loaded with supplies, headed to classified destinations. Others are on the way.

The absence of so many men and women clad in their combat greens is not lost on this Solano County seat, which grew up around the base decades ago.

In this growing city of 100,000, some say the unmistakable presence of the base gives a distant war a personalized feel. Even if folks can't put a finger on it.

For Jessica Vedder, owner of a dry-cleaning shop in a strip mall across from Travis, business has plunged 80 percent in recent weeks.

Her cramped shop was loaded with freshly-pressed camouflage whose owners have vanished. "Everyone needs to come back safely -- that's all," Vedder said. "They are fighting for America."

Travis, built in 1942, is the West Coast site for the 60th Air Mobility Wing, a critical transport arm of the Air Force. The base sends giant C-5 transports or KC-10 Extender air-to-air refueling planes whenever they are called into action.

"Beans to bullets," is how a base public relations manager explained the mother lode of military supplies sent from Travis.

Base officials refuse to say how many people they have deployed or where they went because of security concerns.

Countywide, emergency officials ramped up response plans as the first missiles hit a bunker in Baghdad.

The county reopened its Office of Emergency Services branch on Wednesday, identifying key areas that may be attractive to terrorists, including Travis. Still, the county is operating under a "Level 1" alert, or its lowest of three.

Response teams are in place, equipped with gas masks and chemical suits. Deputies will patrol the perimeter of the base more regularly, just in case.

"I'm mostly worried about the possibility of chaos and panic more than anything else," said Bob Powell, who manages the emergency services arm. "I think people need to be more prepared at home."

In pubs or small businesses, folks tried to make sense of the vague, brilliant images of TV war.

Len Harris, waiting for a haircut across from Travis, watched a grainy TV image as news unfolded about a U.S.-led ground invasion underfoot.

"I think as far as pushing the Iraqis into Baghdad, that will happen quickly. But the urban warfare scenario could be a challenge," said Harris, a chemical plant operator who lives in Vacaville.

He predicted that the war would be over in six weeks.

For many of the 45,000 or so veterans in Solano County -- including a sizable population in Fairfield -- supporting the war is about patriotism -- plain and simple.

"We should have wiped 'em out 12 years ago," said Don Kingsley, a 56-year-old Vietnam veteran, puffing on a cigarette downtown.

Elephant Calf Dies at Vallejo park

By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
March 27, 2003

An African elephant at Six Flags Marine World in Vallejo has delivered a stillborn baby, the third pachyderm to die at the 140-acre theme park since October.

Misha, who had been artificially inseminated, delivered a dead calf early Friday after a 22-month gestation period.

"It's tremendously disappointing for us," said park spokesman Jeff Jouett. "It's a devastating loss for the trainers and vets who worked with Misha for so long."

Misha, 22, has made a good recovery and is not showing any signs of ill health or depression, he said.

A post-mortem exam Friday at UC Davis determined the umbilical cord had snapped during the delivery, killing the calf, Jouett said. "Before the baby could reach the ground, it had expired," he said.

The 280-pound baby would have been the first for Misha, who was artificially inseminated in May 2001.

The loss occurred less than six months after Tika, a 24-year-old African elephant, had had a calf die in her womb. Tika was euthanized in November from untreatable internal infections. That calf would have been the seventh in the world born after being conceived through artificial insemination.

Animal rights activists worry about the continued risks to captive elephants and their babies.

Fifty-five elephants died in accredited U.S. zoos between 1996 and 2002, including 12 stillborn babies, according to records provided by the American Zoological and Aquarium Association.

"I think elephants are extremely brilliant, and when you do artificial insemination from the get-go, it affects their whole psychological well-being," said Pat Derby[CJL3], co-founder of the Performing Animal Welfare Society in Galt.

"I don't know if it's a will to die or depression. It's not normal. And it's not working."

Marine World officials say captive breeding programs may have difficult setbacks, but also are necessary for the species' survival.

"First births are problematic for all animals, including humans," Jouett said. "We're working to take a positive step on behalf of elephants.

"Unless someone steps up and does the work to learn more about reproduction and to develop alternatives and avenues for survival, they will be extinct."

About 400,000 to 500,000 African elephants remain in the wild.

Park officials plan to keep close tabs on Misha to ensure that she makes a full recovery.

Heartfelt Support From Those on Home Soil

By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
March 31, 2003

For the U.S. troops battling fierce sandstorms or engaged in gritty firefights in a distant war, few things beat the familiar and coveted comforts of home.

A heartfelt letter. A pack of smokes. Lip balm. A disposable razor. A box of cookies.

Or anything else to underscore that "homeland" support is flowing for the hundreds of thousands of camouflage-clad men and women deployed to Iraq.

As the war grinds on, a growing movement of support is sweeping the Bay Area and the nation to help sustain the troops and lift their spirits.

"Sure, people are protesting the war -- but I feel that a majority honor and respect those citizens out defending us," said Pelton Stewart, executive director of Continentals of Omega Boys & Girls Club in Vallejo.

The club played host to a special event Sunday to recognize service members and their families.

From Operation Dear Abby to Operation Thin Mint, a Girl Scout cookie drive, folks are sending their packages and prayers. Over and over.

So far, more than 11 million people have signed an electronic "thank you" card at Defend America, an online newsletter by the U.S. Department of Defense.

Wednesday, the department launched "On the Homefront," a resource network for those who want to support the troops and the families they left behind.

In San Diego, a huge Girl Scout cookie drive steered 113,000 boxes to the Persian Gulf last year.

Residents there have already donated 150,000 boxes this year -- shipped in refrigerated containers to beat the smoldering heat.

"It was meant to be a one-time thing. But the response has been amazing," said Karen Cerveny, spokeswoman for the Girl Scout Council San Diego-Imperial County.

Other efforts are just getting off the ground.

In Concord, a Christian school is participating in a project that promises to send personalized postcards to service members in the Middle East.

"War can be scary for children. We're trying to shed light on something more positive," said Catherine Mikes, principal at King's Valley Christian School.

Police and fire dispatchers in Benicia last week kicked off a donation drive dubbed Support Our Troops.

The 10-person group has put together a list of items being sought for individual service members: baby wipes, bar soap, sun block, chewing gum, underwear, flashlights, electrical tape.

The Defense Department no longer allows the public to send mail addressed to "any soldier."

Instead, the department recommends visiting the special Web site www.defendamerica.mil for ways to help.

Benicia dispatchers, though, are trying to obtain specific addresses from the families of the local soldiers deployed so they can send the donated items to them.

Perhaps few have had as much singular influence for troop support as Pamela Bates, of Fort Benning, Ga.

Bates, 38, launched an Adopt-A-Soldier Web site dubbed "Hugs to Kuwait" on Jan. 4 -- two days before her husband departed for the Middle East.

She was concerned about her husband, Sgt. Daniel Bates, an artilleryman in the Army's 3rd Infantry Division, and also worried about how she would fare while he was gone.

So she started the site, which allows folks to "adopt" soldiers, to whom they can send letters or items like beef jerky and prepaid calling cards.

So far, 90,000 requests have come in from all over the globe, with 46,000 soldiers adopted. No more requests are being accepted.

"By the time we fill all the requests, we'll be out of soldiers," said Bates.

Benicia Eyes New Police Station

By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
April 14, 2003

BENICIA -- For years, police have groaned about the fast demise and hazardous conditions of their shabby station.

The city's officers have worked out of a cramped former high school building since the early 1960s.

A pair of scuff-marked, poorly designed holding cells do not meet state standards. Investigators work out of a portable room, which violated city building codes long ago. A single bathroom is shared by inmates and employees.

"It's like trying to put a round peg in a square hole: We're in here, but it doesn't work," said Police Chief Jim Trimble.

It's been a serious topic in Benicia for more than a decade, but a plan for a spiffy new police building is now coming into sharper focus.

The City Council is weighing putting a $14 million bond measure before voters Nov. 4. To pass, the measure must be approved by 66 percent of registered voters.

So far, only Councilman Dan Smith has questioned if police need to more than double their space in a city of 28,300 with the lowest crime rate in Solano County.

"This is our most important capital improvement project; I have no argument with that," Smith said. "It's a question of how much we need."

He said the city has too many other priorities to justify the cost and large size of the proposed building, but indicated that he would not campaign against a bond measure.

City leaders envision a three-story, pedestrian-friendly complex built near the existing facility at 200 East L St. It would measure more than 26,000 square feet and become part of a revamped City Hall "campus."

For now, the 12,500 square foot station is a sort of detached piece of the civic puzzle, an antiquated building tethered to a gymnasium by a concrete walkway.

The one-story building, once part of Benicia High School, dates to the 1940s. Police moved in for good in 1962.

In recent years, many fast-growing East Bay cities have built new police stations, including Livermore, Concord and Antioch. Benicia, the first city to incorporate in California, is essentially built-out and expects to add only 1,800 new residents by 2020.

In addition, police staffing ratios generally trace population growth -- meaning the department will grow from 50 to about 64 full-time employees by 2020.

So why all the extra space?

Trimble, a former deputy chief in Hayward who was hired in August 2002, said a new, seismically fit building could be good for the next 40 years.

Trimble, 56, said Tracy has already outgrown its new police station after seven years.

"They book people in the hallways; that's what we do," he said.

With the state in an economic headlock, it remains to be seen if residents want to spend $58 more a year in property taxes to help pay for the building and civic improvements.

City leaders will try to educate the public about the deplorable conditions of the existing building.

Trimble said inmates pose a constant threat to employees by sharing the same cramped space and the 911 center remains vulnerable to a serious earthquake or other disasters.

In a telephone survey in February, 44 percent of registered voters said they would vote yes for a bond measure to build a new station.

"That's pretty encouraging for the city to hear," especially in a recession and with little knowledge about the needs, said Gary Robbins, a principal with Urban Alternatives in Novato, which analyzed the survey data.

Fifty-two percent of the 588 registered voters polled said they were "totally unaware" of the problems facing the department.

Genocide Resolution Eyed

By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
April 21, 2003

PLEASANT HILL -- Karen Yapp, who is half-Armenian, wants the city to acknowledge the darker side of its Turkish sister city.

In her view, the city should commemorate April 24, 1915, as the start of the "Armenian Genocide," referring to the killings of more than a million Armenians by Ottoman Turks in a sweeping campaign of death.

"The use of the word genocide is very important," she said.

Turkey has long denied a genocide, saying many Armenians died fighting during a civil war.

The City Council tonight will consider a resolution that seeks to recognize April 24 as the beginning of the genocide, "masterminded by the Young Turks."

Yapp, 49, helped craft the resolution with Councilwoman Terri Williamson.

The 185-word declaration condemns the "Young Turks," a political group who rose to power between 1915 and 1923, for their "extreme form of nationalism."

Other cities, including Berkeley, have accepted the genocide as historical fact. An estimated 1.5 million Armenians were massacred or driven out of what is now Turkey.

"We have an official position on the Armenian genocide, which is we don't recognize it," said Ozgur Kivanc Altan, acting consul general of Turkey in Los Angeles.

He said World War I was a tragedy for all people of the Ottoman Empire -- "be it Turkish, Armenian, Muslim, Christian or Jew."
Nonetheless, "we think the events do not match the specific definition of genocide," Altan said.

Pleasant Hill adopted Merzifon -- a growing city of 45,000 in northern Turkey -- as its second sister city in 2000.

Councilman David Durant, who voted to accept Merzifon, said he did not support the resolution because it would set a precedent for "entertaining" other foreign policy issues.

"It's not the City Council's role," he said. "It's a game I don't think we should be involved in."

Mayor Sue Angeli said she would support the resolution out of "treating everyone equally" on each side of the genocide debate.
The sister-city relationship has survived a few body blows.

In 2001, opponents urged the city to cuts its ties to Merzifon, citing Turkey's human rights violations and the genocide.

In response, the City Council voted to keep intact relations with its second sister city arguing that there are two sides to the controversial issue.

Yapp, whose grandfather and his brother escaped Turkey in the bottom of hay wagons as teens, said no one else from his extended family survived the genocide.

She said her ancestors did not die as rebels in a civil war, and urged the city to accept the truth.

"It just doesn't make sense that anyone could believe that a civil war could wipe out mass numbers of old people and children -- and leave no one behind," Yapp said.

Pooch Dogged by Media after Near-Death Escapes

By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
April 24, 2003

Dosha, a maligned mutt with snarling resolve, has sniffed out a media frenzy by escaping death.

Three straight times.

The 10-month-old canine with luck to burn is the talk of the town in Clearlake, a city of 13,142 about 90 minutes northwest of Sacramento.

In a few harrowing hours last week, the poor pooch was hit by a truck, shot in the head and, presumed dead, pitched into a freezer at the pound.

Two hours later, the pound's interim director -- curious after learning details of the shooting -- found the shivering, blood-stained animal dazed and near death, but alive. Her black eyes were as round as saucepans.

The puppy's owner, Louetta Mallard, is still jarred by the news and a sweet story of recovery that has stirred widespread media interest.

"Oh my gosh. Lots of tears. Shock. I'm in hysterics," said Mallard, a disabled 40-year-old with a teenage son. "I don't know how she did it."

Dosha, dogged by the press, is recovering at a veterinary clinic in Clearlake, where she has resumed the familiar customs of canine comfort: diving into the chow bowl and scratching herself.

"It was an amazing streak of bad luck, followed by an amazing streak of good luck," said Yvonne Scott, a manager at the Clearlake Veterinary Clinic.

"She's doing lots of interviews."

The trouble unfolded April 15 when the excitable pup, a Rhodesian Ridgeback, bounded over a cyclone fence ringing her front yard and high-tailed it down the street.

Sometime after 10 a.m., Dosha was hit by a truck and tossed to the roadside.

A police officer was dispatched to the scene. Officer Bob MacDonald, fearing the collarless pooch was fatally injured, shot the animal under the right eye.

Dosha, believed to be dead, was taken to Animal Care and Control and placed in a freezer. It's where animal carcasses are "preserved" until they are transferred to a disposal firm.

The pound's interim director, Denise Johnson, rescued a dog she described as "cold."

Outraged animal lovers have sharply criticized police, saying the officer had no reason to pull out his 9 mm revolver and squeeze the trigger.

"At this point, we've found no wrongdoing on his part, based on policy and procedure," said Police Chief Bob Chalk.

The wounded canine, the chief added, appeared to be "gravely injured" and suffering.

Dosha, meanwhile, has a deep facial laceration from the bullet's exit wound and a shattered right eardrum.

"The gunshot wound was kind of minor; there was not a lot of bleeding," said Scott, the vet manager. "Hypothermia was the main thing we had to address when she got here."

Homeless Plan Gets Mixed Reviews

By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
2002

PLEASANT HILL Don Van Acker is livid over plans to transform the nearby Garden Park Apartments into a facility providing permanent shelter for the homeless.

The housing project is too close to Fair Oaks Elementary School, he said, a move that invites "danger to the doorstep."

But Julie Hunn, a young mother, envisions something entirely different, a stable community shelter for folks trying to straighten out their lives.

Van Acker and Hunn stand at opposite sides of a simmering conflict among residents in Fair Oaks, a mostly conservative, working-class area near the Monument Boulevard corridor.

County officials this month secured a building in the neighborhood to assist the homeless, a 27-unit complex with an on-site manager's office.

The facility, at 2387 Lisa Lane, will be the largest of its kind in the county specifically catering to homeless families. It's expected to debut in the next few months.

The proposed $3 million center is a joint project involving the county, Mercy Housing and the Contra Costa Interfaith Transitional Housing Inc., a coalition of 25 congregations.

Interfaith, in Martinez, owns the property and Mercy, a nonprofit group, will manage the grounds.

"A project like this tends to stabilize the community because we will have 24-hour staff and a residential manager," said Linda Wohlrabe, executive director of Interfaith.

With a swelling county homeless population of about 15,000, the large site promises to provide a permanent roof and critical social services to needy families.

Project officials bought the site after Richmond residents fought off plans there for a 32-bed affordable housing center for homeless families.

In doing so, it kept Contra Costa's Homeless Program from giving up a $500,000 grant for failing to find a suitable place by Dec. 11.

But some Pleasant Hill residents are up in arms over the center. They say it's too close to the school, may drive down property values and could allow transients to wander their neighborhood without supervision.

"It amazes me how a community fails to protect its most innocent, children and seniors," said Van Acker, a safety engineer who lives on Fair Oaks Drive.

A few doors down, Derek Clements, 30, cringed at the thought of plunging property values in an area already beset by a lingerie store whose adult merchandise once drew protests.

"It's just part of a consistent stream of bad luck around here," said Clements, a driver for an Antioch soil company.

Other neighbors dismiss those concerns as overblown, saying assisting the homeless is an effort that requires widespread support.

"These are people who are getting on their feet, people who have already come a certain distance," said Hunn, who lives in the 32-unit Pleasant Hill Cohousing complex at 2200 Lisa Lane.

"I'd be more concerned about someone currently homeless and the system not helping them," she added.

The project requires no approvals from Pleasant Hill. Months ago, city officials declined a request for financial assistance to help the program, citing concerns about the project's long-term stability.

In addition, the city had already established its budget and did not want to scrap existing programs, said Bob Stewart, the city redevelopment administrator.

Slow, Risky State

By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
Aug. 13, 2002

The 400-foot barge sits on a windswept stretch of the Pacific Ocean, a hulking vessel tethered to an oil cleanup unique in state history.

Directly below, about 175 feet into the chilly depths, divers breathing a special mix of helium and oxygen are draining oil from the crumpled wreckage of the SS Jacob Luckenbach.

The 468-foot freighter, which sank nearly five decades ago, lies on a sandy swath of the ocean floor about 17 miles southwest of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Its complex and mysterious network of pipes and tanks are estimated to contain about 75,000 gallons of retrievable oil.

The Florida marine salvage firm assigned to pump the oil from the rotting vessel has never handled a job quite like this one.

So far, Titan Maritime has sucked about 12,000 gallons of oil from the shipwreck in an industrious project that began May 24.

"We'll be out there until all the recoverable oil is gathered," said Lt. Tim Callister of the Coast Guard, which awarded a contract to Titan earlier this year.

The growing $12 million job, beset by stormy seas and the learn-as-you-go nature of underwater pumping, is expected to last at least six more weeks.

Nonetheless, state and federal officials are excited about the prospect of resolving a troubling situation that has left the state coastline littered with thousands of dead seabirds.

Earlier this year, environmental sleuths linked the Luckenbach to a series of puzzling and deadly oil slicks dating to the early 1990s.

In late November, scores of oiled seabirds, mostly common murres, began washing ashore from Santa Cruz to Point Reyes.
The "Leaking Luke," as it would soon be called, was flowing fast.

Since the outbreak in November, 812 oil-soaked birds had been recovered and treated at the San Francisco Bay Oiled Wildlife Care and Education Center in Suisun City.

Nearly 280 of the gaunt creatures have been scrubbed clean and set free, said Scott Newman, a response coordinator at the wildlife center.

But the oil recovery project is far from over; birds are still being plucked from shorelines.

On a recent day, the Coast Guard ferried a small group of reporters to the remote cleanup site in a 47-foot search-and-rescue vessel.

The Golden Gate Bridge quickly disappeared in a hazy mist as the boat glided across the choppy waters during a 50-minute trip.

Common murres, which nest at the Farallon Islands, bobbed and fluttered in the blue-green sea.

Finally, the boat sputtered to a stop about 200 feet from the giant barge, encircled by a handful of rusted anchor balls and tethered to the "Gladiator," a safety tugboat.

This is where about 40 people have lived since late May, primarily communicating with a two-person dive team who spend eight to 12 hours a day underwater.

Every 28 days, the divers are replaced with a fresh pair who work all day and live in a pressurized chamber aboard the barge, breathing helium and oxygen. The helium replaces nitrogen, which becomes too dangerous to use at certain depths.

The divers, wearing special suits that flow constantly with warm water, are lowered into the murky depths every day in a 6-foot-wide tank that looks like a giant coffee mug with port holes.

While one worker keeps watch inside the dive bell, the other wades through swift currents and 42-degree water from a 100-foot-long cable. He or she then tries to drain oil from the sunken ship.

The job is extremely difficult because there are no clear, accurate drawings of the Luckenbach, which sank in 1953 loaded with military supplies after colliding with the SS Hawaiian Pilot.

No one knows precisely where all the oil is stored, though more than two dozen tanks have been identified.

"It's not possible to know what we have until we get down there," Callister said. "When we decide to pump a tank, and oil starts flowing, a week's time has passed. It's not a quick operation."

Indeed, the tanks must be properly heated before the oil is funneled through a 6-inch hose up to the floating barge above.
In any case, no one seems prepared to give up on the shipwreck even while the costs and daily challenges pile up.

In an interview before the job began, Richard Fairbanks, president of Titan Maritime, said the project would offer a window into the future.

"As time goes by, 60- to 70-year-old wrecks start leaking," he said. "And this will become more common. For now, we're just on the edge."