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Here’s something you don’t get to write every day: I couldn’t get a straight answer out of Kern County Auditor/Controller/County Clerk Ann Barnett about gay marriage. I heard a rumor that Barnett held a staff meeting after the California State Supreme Court struck down the state’s ban on same-sex marriages on May 15 and said she would not allow them in Kern County because of her personal beliefs. So I asked Barnett. “My staff meetings are confidential so I will neither confirm nor deny that information,” she tersely told me. Oh, no. Wrong answer. Barnett is the elected official in charge of issuing marriage licenses and performing civil ceremonies in Kern County. Her constituents deserve to know where she stands on this issue and if she’s going to follow the law. So I persisted. First, Barnett told me, things are still up in the air. In fairness, she’s right about that. The Supreme Court’s ruling should take effect in 30 days. But the Supremes ordered an appeals court to actually write the order; when that will happen is anyone’s guess. And gay-marriage opponents are asking justices to stay the ruling until an anticipated constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage is decided by voters in November. The court has until the end of the 30 days to decide on the stay. OK, there are some loose ends. But, I asked Barnett, assuming there is no stay, the appeals court spits out the order and June 17 dawns bright and sunny with same-sex marriage the law of the land, will you issue licenses or perform marriages for gay couples? “I took an oath to defend the constitution and there are constitutional issues here. I keep my oaths.” Since marriage configurations aren’t a part of the state constitution, what do you mean by that? “Right now, we have a Supreme Court decision.” Doesn’t that have the force of law? “If you look at family law, it still defines marriage as between a man and a woman.” But the Supreme Court changed that, right? “It was not unanimous. There were dissenting opinions on the issue of whether the court has authority to legislate this matter.” Setting aside the “activist bench” argument, how do you feel, personally, about same-sex marriage? “I don’t think my personal feelings are an issue right now. My duty is fulfilling my responsibilities as an elected official.” Fine, then we’re back to the original question: Did you tell your staff that you wouldn’t allow gay marriages regardless of the Supreme Court ruling? “I did not say I wouldn’t follow the law. I would never say that.” Will you allow gay marriages, assuming all the loose ends are tied up? “At this point, it’s premature for me to do that,” she said. And so the merry-go-round went for a few more minutes. It’s a simple question. I found Barnett’s refusal to give a simple answer both frustrating and disingenuous. I’d accept it if she personally doesn’t think same-sex marriage is right, but will adhere to the law. Or if she thinks same-sex marriage is dandy but needs to make sure all the legalese is in order before starting services. This caginess, though, is appalling in an elected official. Other politicians have stated their positions on this issue. Yet we’re supposed to take this double-speak from one of our own elected officials who happens to have her thumb on the department now at the center of this storm? I don’t think so. If Barnett’s aim is to ignore the law, that would put the county (and us taxpayers) in a bad position. People tend to sue, and often win, when governments ignore their civil rights. We should know, specifically, what she plans to do. The county’s position is that it will follow the law on this issue, County Counsel Bernard Barmann told me, quickly adding he’s sure Barnett will “do what’s proper.” He also assured me the county has remedies to protect itself if elected officials flout the law. Or, if Barnett simply can’t see her way to upholding this law, I believe she does have another option: Resign. Opinions expressed in this column are those of Lois Henry, not The Bakersfield Californian. Her column appears Wednesdays and Sundays. Comment at people.bakersfield.com/home/Blog/noholdsbarred, call her at 395-7373 or e-mail lhenry@bakersfield.com Election season is such a weird, wonderful time. Take, for example, the campaign for two open judgeships. A veritable stampede of lawyers pulled papers to run. We started with nine (9!) candidates — three vying for the retiring H.A. “Skip” Staley’s seat and the remaining six going after the retiring Clarence Westra’s seat. Things heated up right off the bat when Ronald Carter, vying for Staley’s seat, dropped out rather than fight elections officials who said he was ineligible because of his on-again-off-again law license status. The Staley seat has only two candidates and seems to have settled into a sleepy race with occasional public forums. But scratch the surface of the slate running for Westra’s seat and things get more interesting. First are rumors that Deputy District Attorney Holly Mitchell, who is black, once vowed to not prosecute African-Americans arrested in southeast Bakersfield because the Bakersfield Police Department engaged in racial profiling. I personally heard this rumor from a couple of people and received an anonymous letter to that effect. “That’s an absolute lie,” Mitchell said when I asked about it. “I didn’t say anything like that.” The District Attorney’s office holds forums with the People’s Missionary Baptist Church in the southeast to increase communication, she said. These were forums she and other DAs helped start several years ago. At one, she shared a story of how her son — who had never before or since been in any kind of trouble — was stopped by police and made to lie on the ground at gunpoint. “They were looking for a car similar to my Dodge Caravan that he was driving at the time,” she said. She shared that story to explain that, as a mother, it was hard to think of her son held at gunpoint. But as an officer of the court, she knew the police had a job to do and needed to do it a certain way to ensure everyone’s safety. “The stop wasn’t even based on race, it was because the car description matched what they were looking for,” she said with a hint of exasperation. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard the rumor. “I prosecute cases based on the law, not who’s committed the crime. I don’t care if you’re African American, white, Hispanic or what. I prosecute what’s put before me.” Though she works in truancy, she said last summer she prosecuted a few felony cases and, in fact, convicted two black defendants. Also circulating on the rumor mill is a story about solo practitioner Frank Butkiewicz, Jr. Back in 1991, it’s said, he grabbed a prosecution witness during a misdemeanor theft trial and was slapped with a hefty fine. Butkiewicz laughed when I asked him about it. He said a store security guard was testifying how he’d grabbed Butkiewicz’ client by the lapels and interrogated him. So, Butkiewicz approached the security guard and put his hands on the guard’s lapels to show the jury. “Is this what you were doing?” Butkiewicz remembers asking the witness. No one objected. The judge, then Court Commissioner Lee Felice, didn’t say anything. Days after the trial Butkiewicz learned a bailiff had made a report about it. “So, the DA and the judge and I got together and said next time, I need to ask to approach the witness,” Butkiewicz said. “And the judge had me give $100 to charity and it didn’t go any further.” As for why it’s coming up now? “I have no idea. I’m not embarrassed by it. I thought I was doing my duty as an attorney.” He couldn’t remember if the client was convicted. The buzz isn’t limited to old rumors. Some people were upset that Rep. Kevin McCarthy, R-Bakersfield, and former Congressman Bill Thomas, made recorded calls stumping for candidate Matt Brady. It does seem like heavy-handed politics in a non-partisan race. But, like everything in Kern County, you have to remember the connections. Brady worked for Thomas in 2000 as counsel for the House Administration Committee, which Thomas chaired. Brady was the GOP Central Committee chairman, vice chair and treasurer going back to 2000. During his stint as treasurer, he was a central figure in a dust-up that resulted in the Kern Central Committee receiving a $10,000 fine from the California Fair Political Practices Committee. The state party asked local chapters to take money from an insurance company and funnel it to three Republican assembly candidates in tight races in other parts of the state. The Kern committee moved $150,000 and was dinged for contributing more than was allowed to two of the candidates. Back in 2004 when the fines were announced, McCarthy, who admitted he was involved in the deal, chalked it up to not knowing the laws. More recently, he told me, Brady was just following what the committee directed him to do. I asked Brady how that bodes for someone who is seeking a judgeship? Shouldn’t judges A) know the law and B) rely on their own, er, judgment? Brady acknowledged his responsibility, saying he had relied on advice from the state party and the lesson has been invaluable, if painful. (The state party, by the way, actually took care of the fine, according to Brady.) “When you’re in public service, you’re going to have bumps and bruises,” he said. “I got bruised on this one.” Now, he demands more information and is more critical of it. He’s more thorough, he said. “I’m a better lawyer today because of what I went through.” As for being part of the political “machine” of Mark Abernathy, campaign consultant for Thomas, McCarthy and now Brady, he said he’s just going with what works. “Abernathy has a record of success in this community.” Then, of course, there’s candidate Michael Gardina, who only recently emerged from under the cloud of a contempt of court inquiry for his actions during one of the most sensational murder trials in Bakersfield’s history. At the end of the Vincent Brothers murder trial, Judge Michael Bush accused defense attorneys Gardina and Anthony Bryan of disobeying an order to share information with the prosecution. Earlier this month Judge John Oglesby threw out the complaint. I hate to say the last two candidates, Public Defender Tony Heider and attorney Charles “Chip” Brehmer, are dull by comparison. Come on, guys. Whatcha got? The clock is ticking! Opinions expressed in this column are those of Lois Henry, not The Bakersfield Californian. Her column appears Wednesdays and Sundays. Call her at 395-7373 or e-mail lhenry@bakersfield.com If Big West of California really wants approval for its Rosedale Highway refinery expansion, it needs to come out of the closet, so to speak. The old-school attitude of “the less the public knows the less they’ll bother us” doesn’t work anymore. Pssst — everyone KNOWS you’ve got some bad chemicals over there. It’s not a secret. The real mystery is why Big West doesn’t understand that cluing in the public about what’s happening at the refinery — and I mean every little thing — is the only way to gain our trust. If we don’t trust you, why should we allow you to build a bigger operation, bring in more toxic stuff (as if Kern isn’t already Chemical County) and endanger our lives and environment even more? For a few extra gallons of gas? Uh-uh. You gotta do better than that. A perfect example of what NOT to do is the bungled response to last Sunday’s “little leak” of anhydrous ammonia. An off-duty cop who heard the refinery alarm urging employees to evacuate is the ONLY reason county authorities knew anything about it. Makes me wonder what else we don’t know about. It was only a cup of ammonia and the refinery said everything worked as it should. I don’t care if it was a teaspoon, when alarms go off the public needs to know what’s happening. The refinery initially told the paper they had called local authorities, then said they hadn’t and then quoted California government codes saying they weren’t required to report the leak to anyone. Seriously, someone at Big West needs to put together these two words: “public” and “relations.” If this is the response when they’re under intense public scrutiny, what can we expect if the expansion’s approved and they don’t need our good graces any more? At this point, you probably think I’m against the expansion. Wrong. I actually favor it for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that many of our local independent oil producers rely on Big West. But the expansion can only come after Big West proves it will operate safely, as cleanly as possible and without all the hush-hush of previous years. So far, I don’t see that happening. When I asked about the ammonia leak, Big West Health, Safety and Environmental Director Bill Chadick said the refinery has a strong safety record and is eager to share information with the public. In fact, he said they’re building a public website which will detail leaks or gas releases and will even have real time video feeds from around the site. He said the idea started with Environmental Health but now, “We’re doing that on our own,” Chadick said. Not exactly. Two years ago, Kern County Environmental Health Director Matt Constantine proposed the website after Big West belched out 3,700 tons of hydrogen sulfide (the rotten egg smelling stuff). Constantine told Big West that instead of paying a fine, they could set up a public website where every leak, spill or release was noted, including real-time video. He also wanted Big West to put sensors at surrounding businesses that would feed unfiltered, real-time information to the website so people would know if anything was wafting their way. The cameras would also help pinpoint problems on the large property when responders, such as the Kern County Fire Department, have to rush to an incident. “That way we wouldn’t spend precious time trying to figure out where the problem is, as happened last Sunday,” Constantine told me. But Big West officials didn’t like the cost and dragged their feet. Eventually Environmental Health gave up and slapped them with a $20,000 fine, which they promptly paid. The website idea is one now of Environmental Health’s many proposed mitigation measures in the environmental impact report on the proposed expansion. I’m glad Big West is proceeding with the website, but I wouldn’t characterize it as “doing it on our own.” More like, “rammed down our throats.” No wonder Constantine has such a jaded view of the refinery. Big West’s disregard for public communication is all the more galling when you learn that their parent company, Flying J Inc., has another refinery in Utah that operates under a host of public notification requirements, said Kern County Planner Lorelei Oviatt who’s been working on Big West’s environmental documents seeking the expansion. “Why not here?” she asked. “This is not rocket science.” No, it’s not. And I would also urge the Board of Supervisors to pass a countywide ordinance establishing public notification methods for the other 187 facilities in Kern that work with hazardous chemicals. Oviatt used public notification requirements from the Utah operation and those she gleaned from refineries in places like Torrance and Contra Costa County to create a list of similar requirements for Big West in its upcoming EIR, which will be recirculated for public review likely by mid-June. When I started researching this column, my goal was to find some empirical way to determine if Big West is a “good” or a “bad” operator. Where do they rank in comparison with other refineries? I learned there’s no industry standard and while a legion of agencies regulate refineries, there’s no one agency that gathers all that info so it can watch for patterns or benchmark it. In Torrance, the Fire Department has become that clearinghouse because of a lawsuit filed by the city against the ExxonMobil refinery in 1989. It resulted from a string of accidents and the company’s use of hydrofluoric acid, or HF; it was settled in 1990 when the refinery agreed to use modified HF. The settlement also included a consent decree ordering the refinery to be more upfront with the city. Now, ExxonMobil reports everything to the fire department. EVERYTHING. “You name it, they call us,” said Torrance Fire Operations Division Chief David Dumais. “Spills, leaks, releases. If someone breaks a leg or cuts their fingers, they call us. If the wind shifts and someone offsite smells something, they come out with their combustible gas meters. We have joint notification drills. Education programs. If they hear the chimes, the public knows to shelter in place.” He went on and on about the ways the refinery now respects the community’s needs and works to earn the public’s trust. Given how we’ve been treated so far by Big West, I’d say we need a whole lot more respect before we can trust them with this expansion. Opinions expressed in this column are those of Lois Henry, not The Bakersfield Californian. Her column appears Wednesdays and Sundays. Call her at 395-7373 or e-mail lhenry@bakersfield.com I got an email from a reader who offered to give their "economic stimulus" check to Garrion and Anita Orr, the couple I featured who are trying to get their college educations using veterans benefits. Both had served in the Army, Garrion in Iraq, and now are really scrimping to get their Bachelor's degrees at Cal State Bakersfield. The Orr's were grateful and astonished at the offer, but respectfully declined. "There are a lot of other veterans worse off than us," Garrion told me and mentioned a man who is a single dad, veteran of Iraq, going to BC on his GI Bill benefits who must use Food Stamps to get by. The Orrs suggested perhaps the reader could use the stimulus check to start a scholarship fund specifically for veterans. I relayed that to the reader who thought it was a great idea and was going to see about getting it done. I'll keep you posted! I was not lucky enough to meet Bob Williams. But there may be a few more like him that we should keep an eye out for. They’re the kind of people who make life a little better just for having known them. Williams died Monday much as he had lived, quietly and surrounded by family. He was 86. Every day, it seems, we lose another member of “the greatest generation,” those who survived the Depression, won a war and carved out a new prosperity for the United States. In Williams’ case, he was also a key figure in one of Bakersfield’s entertainment hallmarks, minor league baseball. But that’s getting ahead of the story. Talking to his family, widow Betsy Williams and children Bob Williams, Laurel McMahon, Linda Gutcher and Steven Williams, you hear certain words repeated over and over about the elder Williams: integrity, hard work, responsibility. It started early for him. As a teen in 1935 he escaped the Colorado dustbowl and moved to California with his mom and sister. Williams, who’d only ever ridden a horse, taught himself to ride a bicycle so he could hold down two paper routes to help the family. He graduated from high school in Redlands in 1938 and went to junior college in San Bernardino, graduating in 1940. Meanwhile, he worked as an apprentice for an electrician and also wrote sports stories for a local paper. An editor let him know he was likely going to be drafted and advised Williams to enlist. Williams, tall and extremely thin, followed the editor’s advice but when he tried to enlist in the Army, they wouldn’t take him because he had a heart murmur. He had more success with the Navy, which sent him to Georgetown University. He got a job with the Capitol police and worked at night and attended school during the day. After graduating he was commissioned as an ensign. “They asked us what kind of an assignment we would like,” Williams told The Californian in 1994. “As I recall, I asked for duty on a carrier or battleship. We all wound up as landing craft officers.” He piloted transports taking troops to and from the beach in the bloody battle for Saipan in the Mariana Islands in 1944. Nearly 3,000 Americans were killed and more than 10,000 were wounded. Williams received the Bronze Star. After the war in 1946, he returned to his Capitol police job and graduated from Georgetown law school in 1949. On a trip home to visit his mother, he roamed around California looking for the best place to start his law practice. He settled on Bakersfield. “He said the climate reminded him of Colorado, where he grew up,” McMahon said. “Guess he liked dusty,” joked Gutcher. “There was a job open here, too,” son Bob Williams said. In 1950, Betsy Brown was teaching school in Petaluma. Her sorority sisters voted to send Brown to a convention in Santa Barbara. Their tradition held that any unmarried woman attending the convention would meet her dream man. So they put Brown on the spot and asked who her dream man was. “Well, I’d never thought of a dream man,” Betsy said. “So I just described my father.” He should be tall, she said, a lawyer, Republican, a Protestant, at least seven years older (because her dad was seven years older than her mom) and he had to love children. She didn’t give the silliness a second thought. At the conference, however, she walked into a ballroom just as a tall, lanky Navy man (who also happened to be a Republican, Protestant lawyer who was 28 to her 21 years and wanted a dozen kids) was walking out. The Navy man did a fast U-turn and asked her to dance. That was in the spring of 1950. On one of their dates he hummed the tune to “Love Letters” and wrote her name in the wet beach sand. They were married by September. In 1952, they were living in Bakersfield and had an 8-month old baby when Williams was called again to serve his country, this time in Korea, where he worked as a Naval lawyer. When he returned two years later, he told Betsy the Navy wanted to send him to Alaska. That’s fine, she said, but she wasn’t going. No argument. He went on inactive reserve status. “We never had a fight,” Betsy recalled. “Maybe a difference of opinion, but not the shouting kind.” The government told Williams he would have to retire or reactivate and go to Vietnam. With a house full of children and a growing legal business, this time, he declined. He retired from the Navy in 1969 at the rank of Lt. Commander. Williams’ early love of sports followed him all his life. In the 1950s when the Bakersfield Indians lost its major league affiliation with the Cleveland Indians, Williams got together with friends to set things right. They raised $28,000 and created Bakersfield Baseball Boosters, Inc. to keep minor league baseball at Sam Lynn Ball Park. The younger Williams remembered minor league teams with affiliations from Philadelphia and Chicago and said his father was instrumental in getting the Los Angeles Dodgers to affiliate with a team here from 1968-1976. Baseball was a family event for the Williamses. At every home game (70 nights a year!), the Williams kids would be on hand collecting tickets, selling programs, retrieving foul balls and taking food up to the press box. Bob Williams worked with advertisers on new ways to promote the ballpark and increase attendance. He was voted minor league executive of the year in 1968. As I talked to his children, McMahon’s cell phone rang as friends and former tenants called with condolences. Rental properties were also a big part of the Williams family life, with the kids called on to paint, clean and repair apartments regularly. “Oh, he had us kids working as soon as possible,” Gutcher laughed. “His truck was always filled with tools,” his son Bob recalled. If someone called at dinner time because they’d lost their key, he would give them a hand. There wasn’t a lot of down time in Williams’ life. He worked into his 80s despite serious heart problems that started in his 60s. Then in 2002, he suffered a stroke. He recovered somewhat. But a second stroke in 2004 did irreparable damage and for the past few years, Williams was bed ridden at Glenwood Gardens. His legacy, however, lives on through his children, all Bakersfield residents who’ve lived successful lives of their own based on principles exemplified by Williams. “Both of our parents gave us such a strong foundation,” McMahon said. “It was a really secure and predictable environment. Not everyone gets that.” Opinions expressed in this column are those of Lois Henry, not The Bakersfield Californian. Her column appears Wednesdays and Sundays. Call her at 395-7373 or e-mail lhenry@bakersfield.com When the government said “go to war,” countless men and women went. They did it because they promised they would when they signed up to serve in the armed forces. The government made promises too, among them, that we would pay for their education after their service. Shamefully, we have not kept that promise. Congress needs to get off its duff and pass a new GI Bill. It’s way past due. I’m personally tired of feeling like a heel when I meet young veterans like Anita and Garrion Orr who are struggling and scrimping to get through Cal State Bakersfield on pitiful benefits. The Orrs both served in the Army. Garrion joined at 17 in 1999 and Anita started at 19 in 2001. They met in Washington state while still in the Army. They married, were discharged (though Anita is still on inactive reserves) and set out to start their civilian lives in 2005, which included getting an education. This is where the government should have stepped in and kept its promise. Instead, under the current GI Bill, the Orrs got $1,000 per month apiece and nothing more. No tuition; no money for books. That’s only good for 36 months. If you don’t get a degree by then, too bad. And that $1,000 a month is only for vets who served three or more years and are full-time students. It’s even less for National Guard members and reservists. It’s been a long time since I was in college, but as I recall, handling a full school load doesn’t leave a lot of time for work. Whatever work you can get isn’t exactly high paying. The Orrs had saved some money during their active duty, so they used that plus their measly benefits and got their Associate of Arts degrees at a community college in two years. While they were finishing up their AAs, they researched other schools and communities and moved to Bakersfield last summer to get started on their bachelor’s degrees. Anita wants to go into social work and Garrion into criminal justice. But regular GI benefits would not have been enough. So instead, they’re using Vocational Rehabilitation benefits through the Veterans Administration. You have to be disabled to qualify for this program. So disabled you can’t work, according to the rules. Garrion had an ankle injury before being deployed to Iraq where it worsened. He’s now in physical therapy. Anita, who served in Korea, qualifies because she suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder. Here’s a classic Catch-22, though: When they got VocRehab benefits, they were told they’d would need jobs to make enough to live on. If the benefits are based on your inability to work, how is that right? Garrion smiles and shrugs. So, in addition to going to school full time, both work several hours a day at the VA clinic. Through VocRehab, their tuition, books and supplies are paid for and they get $600 a month each (you get less if you’re single, by the way). As of last fall, a full-time undergrad had to pay $1,238 per quarter to attend Cal State Bakersfield. Fees are going up again. Despite what I dismissed as paltry benefits given under a system that seems purposefully complicated and contradictory, the Orrs were grateful for what they get. “This makes it a little easier,” Garrion said of VocRehab. “You look around and there’s a lot of people who don’t get any help,” Anita added. That’s true. Plenty of Cal State Bakersfield students are racking up massive student loans. But the Orrs, like all veterans, paid a price for their benefits that most of us would be unwilling to pay. They deserve better. There are several bills floating around Congress to address this problem. My favorite, sponsored by Sen. Jim Webb, D-Virginia and Sen. Chuck Hagel, R-Nebraska, doesn’t set arbitrary monetary limits but says the government will pay ALL in-state tuition costs for veterans in service on or after 9/11, plus pay for books and supplies and provide a $1,000 monthly living stipend. The Bush administration doesn’t like this bill, saying it would undermine the armed services’ ability to retain people. The Congressional Budget Office, however, says the Webb bill would increase recruitment enough to offset any slippage in retention. In other words, if young Americans really believe the government will make good on its promise of a free education, more would sign up to serve. Other opponents say Webb’s bill, S-22, is overly generous. Setting aside the blood-boiling attitude that people who voluntarily risk their lives in service of this country deserve less than they were promised, that’s just flat wrong. Paying for their education is an investment in our own prosperity. The original GI Bill after World War II would have cost $50 billion in today’s dollars (roughly what Webb’s bill is estimated to cost over 10 years), according to a report on National Public Radio last fall. It paid for the education of nearly 10 million soldiers who were able to increase their earnings and generate more revenue for the country. The return on that $50 billion is estimated at $350 billion, according to the NPR report. Webb’s bill remains in the Senate Veterans Affairs Committee, as does a companion House piece, HR-5740. It was also recently tucked into a supplemental war funding bill as an amendment, which passed the House on Thursday. That sounds encouraging, except it didn’t pass by a veto-proof majority — so it will likely be a hollow victory. Rep. Jim Costa, D-Fresno, supported the amendment. Rep. Kevin McCarthy, R-Bakersfield, voted against it. McCarthy explained it was because of the funding mechanism. Webb’s bill would increase taxes on individuals making more than $500,000 and couples earning more than $1 million. He would rather it be funded by cutting waste from other government programs. When I asked if he felt current benefits were adequate, he said no. “They’re terrible,” he agreed. He wants to have a larger debate on this and other veterans issues. Tucking something this important into another bill without full debate is a disservice, he said. However it’s funded, we need to light a fire under Congress to make a new GI Bill a priority. The number of veterans coming back from combat is increasing. When we asked, they went. Now it’s our turn. Will we honor our promises or is it really good enough to continue to put them on hold?
CONTACTING CONGRESS It’s your country. Let your congressional representatives know how you feel about the GI bill — or any other topic.
It’s impossible to know how you would feel if Dorothy Anne Walter were your mother, killed in a senseless accident in 2006 on her way home one night. You can’t know until you’ve been there, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Laurie Rankins has made it clear how she feels in letters to the court that’s hearing the vehicular manslaughter case against the man who drove the car that killed Walter, Rankins’ mother — her best friend. She’s overwhelmed by grief. Sickened. And furious. She and her family want the book thrown at now 25-year-old Daniel Espinoza, who was driving more than 90 mph when he crashed into Walter on Stockdale Highway near Buena Vista Road, according to police reports. Rankins doesn’t call what happened an accident. She calls it murder. While lawyers and courts have a different definition of murder, I understand where Rankins is coming from. Espinoza was way over the speed limit, it was reckless and thoughtless to other people on the road. People like Walter, a 69-year-old grandmother driving with her two little dogs, one of whom was also killed. She didn’t stand a chance. The case will come back before Superior Court Judge Michael Lewis on June 5. The maximum Espinoza could get is six years, which at first blush may not seem like much in exchange for a woman’s life. But considering the accident nearly killed Espinoza and left him a quadriplegic in need of constant and intensive medical care, I wondered what exactly is justice in this case? Espinoza has suffered some pretty harsh consequences for his actions. And he will continue to do so until the end of his life, which is now filled with extreme pain, brain damage and life-threatening infections. That’s enough to me. Not for the Walter family, according to court documents. The letters are painfully sad to read. I did speak with Rankins but she said she did not wish to be quoted. The family’s letters, however, show Dorothy Walter was no hands-off grandma. She was fully involved in the lives of her children and grandchildren. She had a great sense of humor and a wide cast of friends. She loved life and it was stolen from her. Meanwhile, Espinoza is alive. Yes, in a broken body, but alive and here for his mother to touch, his father to talk with. The Walter family doesn’t believe his medical condition should be taken into consideration. After all, they argue, it was self-inflicted. By the letter of the law, perhaps they’re right. But that’s why we have judges, to look at the whole case, the people involved and their circumstances. At the heart of this matter, I believe, is remorse. Espinoza has never apologized, the Walter family says. Even in a video shot by The Californian, he says he’s sorry the accident happened, but never says, “I’m sorry for what I did.” There’s a difference. Initially, that was because of lawyers, Espinoza’s father, Dennis Espinoza, told me. “He is full of remorse,” he insisted. “As a family we all pray for Mrs. Walter. It’s just devastating.” Finally, a new lawyer tried to help them connect with the Walter family but they declined. I’m pretty sure if Daniel Espinoza wanted the Walter family to know his feelings, there are ways to get that across. Email? Letters? A statement to the court? And he should already have found a way to use his experience to help others. Such as visiting high schools (or even using a computer cam) as regularly as his health permits and explaining how he ended one life and severely curtailed his own because of a single moment of stupidity. If he caused even a handful of youngsters to take an extra minute before peeling out from a stoplight, it would be worthwhile. His mother, Laurie Kolkman, told me he will try to make such an appearance at his old high school, where his younger brother will be graduating later this spring. She said the school called and felt it would be a powerful message to the teens just before prom night. She said her son accepts responsibility for his actions, is very remorseful and also eager to find a way to make any kind of positive out of this horribly tragic event. It wasn’t until five months after the accident that Espinoza was even aware enough to be told of Walter’s death. He was distraught, Kolkman said, and went into a deep depression. “Even he has said, ‘Mom, if I did something wrong I should be punished,’’” Kolkman said. “And he is being punished, every day.” I talked to Christopher Meyers, ethics professor at Cal State Bakersfield, about this case. He agreed the goal should be “restorative” justice, where Espinoza tries to help the Walter family feel, in some small way, “restored” so they can heal and move forward. Whether they’re able to accept that gesture — and it doesn’t seem they are based on court documents — the onus is still on Espinoza to try. With or without an apology, Espinoza shouldn’t go to prison. The drain on taxpayers for his care is one issue but, more important, he’s paid for his crime. Opinions expressed in this column are those of Lois Henry, not The Bakersfield Californian. Her column appears Wednesdays and Sundays. Call her at 395-7373 or e-mail lhenry@bakersfield.com I’d love to be happy about the recently announced conservation of 240,000 acres of land on Tejon Ranch. It’s described as a jolly win-win by all those involved. Our esteemed governor praised it as an example of the good that can come when groups work together. I agree it’s better to see groups working together than suing each other. And it is a phenomenal amount of wilderness — 90 percent of the ranch. But I can’t help thinking the environmental groups that signed off on this deal may come to regret it. The Sierra Club, Audobon California, Endangered Habitats League, Natural Resources Defense Council and Planning and Conservation League all agreed to drop their opposition to Tejon’s massive 23,000-house Centennial project, its Tejon Mountain Village project set in critical California Condor habitat and its I-5 Tejon Industrial Complex expansion projects in exchange for conservation easements on 178,000 acres and the option of buying easements on another 62,000 acres. Some things about the agreement hit me as cockeyed. First and foremost, none of the groups have seen the environmental impact reports on these projects. EIRs give exacting details on how projects will be developed, how developers plan to alleviate pollution and habitat destruction, where roads will go and where they’re getting their water. These environmental groups, which all preach reading the fine print, haven’t read the EIRs because they aren’t done yet. Perhaps by fall, Tejon spokesman Barry Zoeller told me. Wow. Isn’t that like buying the cow before you know if it has milk? Bill Corcoran, the Sierra Club’s regional director who was key in negotiating the deal, said attorneys on their side of the table worked out issues they had with the developments and they can go to court to enforce those issues. So they don’t expect any nasty surprises. Local Sierra Club rep Gordon Nipp said negotiations like this have become common locally. There are 29 such agreements in Kern County alone where the club dropped opposition in exchange for better environmental consideration. “This is a comprehensive agreement that addresses numerous far-ranging issues,” Nipp said of the Tejon deal. “This is a great thing for the entire state.” Maybe so. But without the EIRs in hand that’s going a little too much on faith for my comfort. The other thing that hit me right away was that Tejon had already pledged to preserve 100,000 acres in a widely touted 2003 deal with Trust for Public Land. That leaves 140,000 acres. And of that, about 78,000 acres wasn’t developable. Tejon CEO Bob Stine himself told this paper years ago that more than half of the ranch could never be developed because of the steep canyons and hillsides. Which brings us down to the 62,000 “optional” acres. This land is broken up into five chunks scattered around the ranch. It is developable. But the environmental groups have to buy easements on that land. And they have three years to do it. Much was also made of a 49,000-acre state park. But it would partially be in one of those five chunks of “optional” land. If they can’t get the easement, what happens to the park? Don’t know. A summary of the agreement on the website www.tejonpreserve.com just says all parties must “commit to work” toward establishing a park, not that it’s a sure thing. No one knows how much those easements will cost. I’m betting they won’t be cheap. I also wonder how the state can create a new park — even years from now — when we’re talking about closing parks due to our never-ending budget woes. So, essentially, it looks to me like these enviro groups gave up their ability to oppose Tejon’s developments for the mere chance to buy easements on 62,000 acres. The money to buy those easements isn’t in hand, but several environmental reps said Thursday they wouldn’t have made the deal if they weren’t confident they could do it. Hmmm. Getting even further out there on the faith bridge. When I asked Corcoran where the money would come from, he quickly answered, “state bonds.” I have a slight problem with that but I’ll let Corcoran make my point by citing what he told us in 2003 when he criticized the deal between Tejon and Trust for Public Land: “There are a lot of questions that need to be answered before state bond money should be given to Tejon Ranch or the Trust for Public Land,” he said then. “A portion of the ranch is undevelopable because of its topography. It would not be a wise expenditure of scarce bond funds if we’re merely setting aside what cannot be developed anyway.” He also bemoaned the idea that Tejon would turn around and use that taxpayer money to fund its development plans and enrich its shareholders. And that’s changed how? Here’s what hasn’t: the Centennial project is still sprawl at its worst. Tejon touts it as self-sustaining, with a jobs-housing ratio that will keep people from having to commute to Los Angeles. History has shown us these “new town” concepts take decades to actually attract the jobs necessary to keep people out of their cars. In those decades, our air pollution will worsen, traffic will be even more of a nightmare and the already crumbling I-5 will further deteriorate. Even though the Tejon Mountain Village is much smaller (only about 3,000 houses), traffic and air are still critical issues. As is habitat for the California Condor, on which taxpayers have spent tens of millions of dollars to bring back from the brink of extinction, according to Ileene Anderson, a biologist with the Center for Biological Diversity, which was approached by Tejon to be a part of this alliance but declined because its mission is to protect species and this deal doesn’t do that. Anderson was quick to say the deal was a “large leap forward” from the old 100,000-acre proposal. But “they’re still building in a significant amount of critical habitat for these birds,” she said. Air and traffic come up again on the Industrial Complex at the base of the Grapevine, with an eventual buildout of 20 million square feet of warehouse and retail space. Right now it’s about 5 million square feet. Zoeller and others point out this agreement in no way keeps others from opposing the projects, commenting on the EIRs or even suing. Yes. But not the big hitters with the money, the resources, the experience and the expertise to actually make a difference. While I hope all the parties are right and their faith hasn’t been misplaced, I’m just jaded enough to wonder if, as some in the environmental community have grumbled, this isn’t a “deal with the devil.” Meanwhile, as each piece of Tejon’s development chess match moves forward, the Sierra Club and others will stay mum and gather another easement on another portion of the ranch. It’ll take 30 years to complete. That’s a long time to keep quiet. Lois Henry’s column appears Wednesdays and Sundays. E-mail her at lhenry@bakersfield.com or call her at 395-7373. The Recall Ken Weir committee jumped into action Wednesday night, serving Councilman Weir with a petition of intent to recall. Then he took the next few minutes to make a campaign speech. (Is that allowed??) He's obviously been working on a few things, including explaining his actions regarding Planning Commissioner Russell Johnson and the Hillside Ordinance. If you'll recall (har!) he told everyone who would listen that his attempt to boot Johnson from the commission (shortly before the controversial The Canyons comes before that commission, incidentally) was nothing personal and he just felt Johnson wasn't in line with his view for development in the northeast. Now, he's saying he wants Johnson off because Johnson is unaccountable to the city and works for Kern County Supervisor Mike Maggard and, as such, is subject to Maggard's whims and influence. If that criteria makes one unsuitable for service on boards or commissions, Councilman Zack Scrivner might not want to sit too close to Weir. He is after all, an "at will" employee working for Assemblywoman Jean Fuller at the state level and the state is about to totally mess with local municipalities with its budget cuts. Does that make Scrivner "unaccountable" to the city? Or beholden to another entity? And, of course, there are myriad other political employees on boards and commissions, which seems to be just fine with Weir. Then Weir went on to say Johnson gleefully voted to take 2/3s of a man's property away without compensation. (It was a unanimous vote by the commission AND the council by the by) This is the Hillside Ordinance, and the man he's talking about is his former client Gordon Downs, who he previously said had nothing to do with his attack on Johnson. The Hillside Ordinance did reduce the number of homes Downs would be able to build. It's a zoning law. And the city has every right to regulate building on hillsides. All zoning laws restrict types and amounts of building or land uses. That's what they're SUPPOSED to do, even when it means your friends and clients are affected. He jumped on the paper for "pressuring" him to support the ordinance, which never happened. We simply wanted to know his position on the ordinance, which he NEVER gave. But now he's saying that all along he said his position was that it was an illegal land grab. Not true. He said at the last council meeting that he felt portions should be looked at more closely. Also at the last council meeting he characterized a local judge's order to the city to do an EIR on the ordinance as meaning portions of the ordinance were "illegal." Also not true. Then Weir launched into a diatribe against public employee pension costs. I'm not saying we don't have a problem there that we need to address, but Weir is way off base saying the recall is a "union ploy." He's just hitting the same old hot buttons - private property rights, unions are bad - and hoping voters are dumb enough not to look more closely at his good-old-boy style of governing. I've always wanted to serve on a jury. I've been called five or six times here in Kern County. Most of the time I never even make it into the "box" to be questioned. But when I am, the prosecution always boots me. WHY????????? What have I done? Anyway, after a full day of getting nowhere in the Kern County justice system, I didn't have enough time to research my column. Sigh. Sorry. I'm going to be on a panel of questioners tomorrow night (May 6) for a candidates forum at the Holiday Inn (6 p.m. and the public is not only welcome but encouraged to attend). It's being put on by the Bakersfield Republican Assembly, but it's open to ALL candidates and, of course, the public regardless of party affiliation. The panels start with judge candidates then another panel will ask questions of 4th District Supervisor candidates (should be good) and finally, a panel will discuss the pros and cons of Props. 98 and 99, regarding eminent domain. Anyhoo, I'm on the panel grilling judge candidates. I think I only get to ask one or two questions. And I have a couple in mind, but wanted to hear from others who might be smarter than me. What would you ask these judge hopefuls? The sign outside the modest home near
The Tessandori’s LOUIE & LEE Established 1942
A logo of a dancing couple is at the top.
Louie had that sign made sort of as a gag. And because he’s in love with his wife, proud of what they built together.
Their life together was something he could always be sure of.
If only he could be sure of how it would end.
Like a lot of people, he and Lee worked, they fought, they made up, bought a house, raised kids, had some good times, got through the bad and never thought about the ending.
Once a dashing young couple who dressed to the nines and had a new car every year or six months, Louie and Lee are now old — 87 and 88. They have a house with a mortgage, two small pensions, Medicare and no real plan for their final years.
The years that once stretched out ahead of them have closed in tighter and tighter, slowly grinding them into a crisis they never saw coming.
Families all over have similar tales.
They’ve worked all their lives and never thought to ask for a handout. But they don’t have enough set aside to carry them through as their health care needs steadily and dramatically increase.
They have no plan for how to handle their assets as their mental functions dim. Although they have family — in particular, a grandson who’s put his life on hold to help out — family members have their own lives and don’t have the expertise to handle serious medical issues.
Any one of those problems is tough.
Put them all together and add denial, guilt and emotional baggage, and caring for aging parents can be a thorny thicket.
It’s just life That’s where I found daughter Donna Weeks in late February. I was looking into a complaint about a possibly shady car deal and met the Tessandoris, their grandson, Gilbert Tessandori, and Donna.
When I asked Donna about the car, it was like taking the key rock out of a dam.
She had no idea what to do. Mom’s Alzheimer’s was getting worse. She couldn’t take care of her bathroom needs and was passing out. Dad was falling down. He had another wreck. He called constantly for her help, then demanded to know why she was doing this or that. He was the victim of identity theft and meekly paid the bogus bills. He borrowed money from the bank for no reason. His doctor said he shouldn’t drive but never called the DMV.
Donna’s brother, Rick, lives out of state. The burden was all on her. It was making her crazy.
Her hair was falling out!
Then her dad went out and bought what he thought was a $1,500 used truck — only the price really was $15,733, and he used all the family’s savings to buy it. Gilbert and Donna tried to take the car back and explain Louie’s growing dementia, but no dice. That’s when I called.
By then, Donna was resigned about the truck. It wasn’t the dealer’s fault, she said.
It was just life, old age.
“The problem is, he doesn’t think he’s old,” Donna says of Louie. “And he doesn’t understand that my mother has a disease. He shouts at her because she doesn’t respond. Then he drags her around to doctor appointments two and three times a week because he wants them to give him a pill that will make her his wife again.
“It’s heartbreaking.”
Unprepared and overwhelmed Most families are unprepared for Alzheimer’s.
The personality changes and memory loss are hard enough, but the logistics can be overwhelming, said Joni Carrithers, community relations director at Oakdale Heights Assisted Living and a board member at the Alzheimer’s Disease Association of Kern County.
“(Families) don’t understand the level of care that’s needed and what insurance covers and what it doesn’t.”
For instance, Medicare doesn’t cover assisted living costs and cuts off coverage for nursing home care if the patient is deemed “unrehabable.”
“Families can get blindsided,” Carrithers said. Keeping a parent in skilled nursing can cost more than $7,000 a month.
Long-term care insurance is your best bet, but it’s expensive and you have to buy it long before you need it.
Medi-Cal does have a long-term care program, but most families don’t know how to access it, she said.
There is help if you know where to look.
Managing the parents “Who knows this stuff?” Donna asks in frustration. “No one tells you these things. How do you know where to go?”
Donna, an accomplished pilot and retired teacher with two master’s degrees who runs her own business in
Louie hasn’t been much help, refusing to use a walker. Falling, wrecking the cars. Gilbert does his best to watch out for him and take care of Lee. But it’s tough.
Lee’s condition is worsening. She’s passing out more often. It’s harder to get her out of bed. She can’t control her bodily functions and has regular trips to the hospital. Louie can’t lift her, but still tries, hurting his recently replaced shoulder.
And so it has gone for months.
Finally, Donna talks with the case workers at the Alzheimer’s association and comes up with a plan.
She works with Medi-Cal to get Lee signed up for coverage and applies for a spot at the
It’s a long shot — the home has a waiting list. But the administrator tells her it looks hopeful.
For the first time in a long time, Donna thinks there might be some light in this tunnel.
Then she reminds Louie about it one afternoon.
“SHAFTER?!” he says. “No way! No way in hell!”
Donna tries to get him to remember that they’d talked about it before and agreed it was best for Lee.
“She’s not going to no home,” he says.
Donna throws up her hands and walks out, leaving all the paperwork on the table.
“I’m a hardheaded wop,” Louie chuckles.
Later Donna tells me Louie has been calling and crying, begging her for the last year to do something about Lee.
“It’s like Jekyll and Hyde! I listen to him talk to you and I can’t believe it. He sounds so lucid. ‘Everything’s just fine,’” she mimics. “Then he’ll call me crying and screaming, all emotional over the slightest thing. And he doesn’t remember. I swear, he’s worse than my mom.”
Donna fights back the tears. She’s back to square one.
Developing a strategy When I tell Donna’s story to Kris Grasty, head of Kern County’s Aging and Adult Services Department, she sighs in shared frustration.
Grasty’s own dad, 89, is at the same stage as Louie. Like Louie, Grasty’s dad was a traditional patriarch who had always been in charge.
“It’s the hardest thing in the world, to watch your parents deteriorate.”
There’s no one fix-all answer, she agreed.
The key is developing strategies and creating a plan for the next phase and the next. Her agency can help.
Yes, there are support groups. But Grasty can also hook people up with in-home support services that go from help with housework to full-on nursing care and for all different income levels.
The agency can also get you in touch with Meals on Wheels, day-care options, and info on nursing homes, assisted living facilities and on and on.
Plus, Grasty has lots of tips.
Such as, you don’t have to confront your parents about the driver’s license issue.
The DMV has a form you can use anonymously. The DMV will make the driver come in for a recheck and if there’s a problem, they’ll yank the license and never reveal it was you who ratted them out.
Denial and defiance This is a bad day for Lee, who sits at the small kitchen table with a faraway look.
“She just don’t say nothin’,” Louie says. “Someone called earlier and she didn’t say a thing on the phone. Nothin’!”
I ask Louie if it’s difficult taking care of Lee.
“No,” he says dismissively. “We get along just fine. We don’t need a thing. Isn’t that right?”
Lee nods vaguely, her vibrant, plucky personality wiped clean.
Louie, on the other hand, is chipper.
“I may be aging, but I don’t know what old is,” he says, and I swear he has a twinkle in his eyes.
I ask how he and Lee met, and he tells me he met her when she was working at Baxter’s Drive-In as a carhop.
“It’s taken me 65 years to get my tip back,” he says with a grin. Donna rolls her eyes.
Oh, yes, she says, her dad is one charming fellow when he wants to be. And good-looking, which still comes through. Growing up, all her girlfriends had crushes on him.
Lee was like a Vogue model, always in the latest fashions, towering heels, her makeup perfect, not a hair out of place.
“It would kill her to know this is happening to her,” Donna says. “First of all, how she looks. But no control over her bodily functions? My God! She would die. The only thing that saves her is that she’s not really ‘here.’”
Donna and Louie have been at a stalemate the last two weeks. There’s no more talk of putting Lee in a home. But no new solutions.
I was set to visit one day, but Lee was back in the hospital, another stroke or fainting episode. Donna didn’t even know about it this time.
She’s mulling options for how to deal with her parents’ finances but keeps coming back to conservatorship — messy, expensive and difficult.
“And he (Louie) would fight me; I know he would. And now he has the money to do it,” she says, defeated.
After Louie spent their savings to buy the used truck, he took out a $20,000 equity line on the house.
Why? I ask him.
He needs to fix the driveway, he says. The neighbor put up a low brick fence and Louie keeps hitting it with his car. The brick fence has been there for years.
When I ask if he should be driving, he snaps at me.
“Of course!” he glowers, displaying some of the legendary Tessandori temper. “That’s just Donna spreading that stuff. I don’t have any problems.”
He and Lee gave Donna power of attorney over their medical decisions. But Louie was adamant he would never give power of attorney over his finances, having seen a relative steal his mother’s savings through power of attorney decades ago.
But now Donna’s scared, and not only for their health. All that paperwork she signed with Medi-Cal, sitting untouched since Louie told her weeks ago he wouldn’t allow Lee to go to a home, makes her uneasy.
“I feel like I’m liable for whatever he does, but I have zero control over him. ZERO.”
Consulting an expert A lot of people think only of conservatorship when facing this situation, but consult an attorney who works in the field and all kinds of options open up, said Sharon Garrett a longtime local attorney who works in elder care with a focus on Medi-Cal.
“A lot can be done to preserve and arrange assets so the at-home spouse can be taken care of and the family receives the benefit of the estate that they worked hard for and are now fearful that they have to spend down or the state will take it when they’re gone,” Garrett told me.
Even in situations where the parent is uneasy about power of attorney, Garrett urged families to seek legal counsel so the parent knows the process.
“Sometimes when they understand the financial process and see how it can all work, they do become willing.”
Consulting an attorney is not cheap; Garrett charges $250 an hour. But you have to balance that against the cost of nursing home care at potentially $5,000 a month for five years or longer. Low-income families can also get help through Greater Bakersfield Legal Assistance.
Most people also believe to get Medi-Cal coverage they have to get rid of everything they’ve worked a lifetime to earn. Not true.
“We just had a case where the person was terminally ill,” Garrett said. “Medi-Cal told the family he had to spend down his IRA, which was $80,000 to $100,000. That’s not true.”
Elder care and Medi-Cal are complex issues. Attorneys spend whole careers picking through the fine print.
But something can almost always be done.
“Most people are blown away,” she said about the options available.
Making the decision By late March, things have changed again at the Tessandori house.
“My dad called and said we need to take her,” Donna says. “So a lady from the home came and interviewed her, and she’s on the waiting list.”
Later, Louie calls Donna, distraught. He doesn’t want Lee to leave, but Donna reminds him her health is failing. He acquiesces.
“He just never thought their lives would turn out like this,” Donna says.
He even agrees to meet with an attorney. But Donna can’t get an appointment until the end of April.
“It’s a race against time at this point,” she says. “Will they be alive? Coherent? Dad still refuses to use a walker. He’s just asking to be bedridden.”
Lee is doing better in the last few days — talking, remembering who people are, closer to her old self. It’s giving Donna “the guilts.” Maybe Lee shouldn’t go to the home. But she’s so frail, and the fainting ... Donna seesaws over her decision.
“It’s a nice place,” she says of the home, more to herself than to me. “It’s clean. No bad smells.”
Donna can’t shake the memory of her dear grandmother dying in a home years ago. It smelled awful, and her “noni” was in terrible pain from bedsores.
Things start moving fast the last week of March. Lee is at the top of the waiting list; they can take her right away.
I go with Donna March 25 to fill out a mountain of paperwork at the home. Jackie Patterson, the Alzheimer’s division marketing director, helps. Still, it takes more than an hour.
They need all the Tessandoris’ financial information, loans, assets, income, accounts, insurance. Lee’s personal information, maiden name, year of birth, place of birth. Would Donna like to pay for the beautician once a week, what types of meds does Lee take, how should they handle her laundry, what about dental care? Is she a voter?
Some questions bring up a lot of history, Donna’s eyes well but never spill over.
Then the biggie, an advance directive, what to do if Lee falls terribly ill and needs extraordinary measures to live.
Donna doesn’t flinch, “DNR,” she says firmly. Do not resuscitate. Lee was always adamant that’s what she wanted.
“I hope she goes quick. God, doesn’t that sound awful?”
Jackie stops shuffling her papers and looks at Donna. No, she says. It doesn’t.
‘You’re doing the right thing’ Two days later, March 27, we’re in the waiting room at Dr. Mike Komin’s office where Lee is examined before being admitted to the home.
She’s doing better than I’ve ever seen her.
“Look at that,” she says to Donna and nods toward the door where a good-looking, young man is standing. Donna ducks her head and laughs.
“Well, she’s not dead yet.”
In the exam room, Komin asks Lee some questions, and she zings back answers. How’s your heart? “I have a fine heart, thank you.” Is this your daughter? “Well, she was this morning.” (Other times Donna is “that nice lady.”) You’re just a spring chicken, aren’t you? “Only if I lie a lot.”
Komin and Donna tell her she’s going to the “hospital” to have some tests.
When we get to the home, there’s more paperwork, which admitting nurse Donna Daniel helps Donna with. More questions, more history. Donna’s having a hard time.
Nurse Daniel grabs her arm and looks directly in her eyes, “You’re doing the right thing.”
Donna needs to get Lee’s things into the home but doesn’t want her to see. I take Lee on a trip around the rooms to distract her. She’s warm and friendly with the other patients, “Hi!” she says brightly. “I’m Lee,” and holds out her hand.
Meanwhile, Donna is hanging Lee’s clothes in her little closet. Her hands are shaking.
It’s close to lunchtime and the smell of food catches Lee’s attention.
“Can you chew food?” Nurse Daniel needs to know.
“Boy, you can’t stop me!” Lee says, eager to get to the dining room.
The attendants settle Lee at a table and her focus is quickly taken up with her meal.
Donna stands outside in the hall, watching her mother. She wants to sneak out so Lee won’t ask when she’s coming back, but can’t resist a final hug.
Later she asks, “Do you think she knows I’m not coming back?”
Alone in a quiet house It’s been a week and Lee calls Louie nonstop, asking, “When are you coming to get me?”
It tears him up. He doesn’t leave the house, not even for the daily jaunt to Carrow’s for breakfast that he used to take with Lee. He sits in his recliner. Donna convinces him to see a doctor for depression. Gilbert finally coaxes him out to Carrow’s one morning in early April to meet with me.
He still hasn’t gone to see Lee.
“I think she went in too quick,” he says, sipping coffee, tears reddening his eyes.
He never wanted to be like his friends, men whose wives had become ill and gone into homes. He and Lee would ask after the ladies and the men would start to cry.
“That’s gonna be me now,” he told Donna shortly after Lee left.
The house isn’t as stressful now, he says. But he has no desire to go anywhere, not a senior center, not to visit relatives, nowhere.
“Not without her.”
Adjusting to change The Golden Living Center staff is completely smitten with Lee, who regularly straightens their shirts and tells them if she admires their shoes or hair.
On my last visit in late April, she is lying down, but perks up as soon as I walk in. She compliments my purse and wants to know about the recorder I fumble with. She tells me her daughter, Donna, is “smart as a whip.”
The food here is great and the people are top-notch. She’s a little bored, she says. But that’s OK.
Whenever I ask about when this or that thing happened in her past, she furrows her brow and gives me a look.
“Oh, don’t ask about that! I can’t remember that stuff!”
She doesn’t seem bothered or sad when I bring up Louie and says she hasn’t seen him in a long, long time.
He had visited only a few days earlier.
“You should have seen ’em,” Donna tells me. “Smoochin’ on the couch like a couple of teenagers.”
The inevitable Things have changed dramatically for the Tessandoris since I first met them in February.
Lee is safe and cared for. Louie is home, where he seems to want to be, for the moment.
And the details of their financial lives are being worked out with Louie’s consent.
Things are settled, for now.
But Donna wonders how long it will be before she has to rush back for another crisis and prepare for the next phase, and the next.
It shouldn’t be surprising things have gone this way for the Tessandoris, they’re typical Americans.
I don’t think there is a more age-averse culture on Earth than ours. We don’t plan, on a personal level, for the inevitability of old age and we don’t address it very well on a societal level, either.
Which is just silly since we’re all gonna be there some day — if we’re lucky. The coming glut of aging baby boomers bearing down on our inadequate elder care system will likely make or break, or both, a lot of its pieces. We’ll have to see what is left in its place.
Donna’s not waiting. Throughout this ordeal she told me over and over that her new mantra is “plan ahead.”
“I will NOT end up like my parents,” she vowed.
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