Hills Like White Elephants

By Ernest Hemingway

The hills across the valley of the Ebro were long and white. On this side there was no shade and no trees and the station was between two lines of rails in the sun. Close against the side of the station there was the warm shadow of the building and a curtain, made of strings of bamboo beads, hung across the open door into the bar, to keep out flies. The American and the girl with him sat at a table in the shade, outside the building. It was very hot and the express from Barcelona would come in forty minutes. It stopped at this junction for two minutes and went on to Madrid.

“What should we drink?” the girl asked. She had taken off her hat and put it on the table.

“It’s pretty hot,” the man said.

“Let’s drink beer.”

“Dos cervezas,” the man said into the curtain.

“Big ones?” a woman asked from the doorway.

“Yes. Two big ones.”

The woman brought two glasses of beer and two felt pads. She put the felt pads and the beer glasses on the table and looked at the man and the girl. The girl was looking off at the line of hills. They were white in the sun and the country was brown and dry.

10

“They look like white elephants,” she said.

“I’ve never seen one,” the man drank his beer.

“No, you wouldn’t have.”

“I might have,” the man said. “Just because you say I wouldn’t have doesn’t prove anything.”

The girl looked at the bead curtain. “They’ve painted something on it,” she said. “What does it say?”

“Anis del Toro. It’s a drink.”

“Could we try it?”

The man called “Listen” through the curtain. The woman came out from the bar.

“Four reales.”

“We want two Anis del Toro.”

“With water?”

“Do you want it with water?”

“I don’t know,” the girl said. “Is it good with water?”

“It’s all right.”

“You want them with water?” asked the woman.

“Yes, with water.”

“It tastes like licorice,” the girl said and put the glass down.

“That’s the way with everything.”

“Yes,” said the girl. “Everything tastes of licorice. Especially all the things you’ve waited so long for, like absinthe.”

“Oh, cut it out.”

“You started it,” the girl said. “I was being amused. I was having a fine time.”

“Well, let’s try and have a fine time.”

“All right. I was trying. I said the mountains looked like white elephants. Wasn’t that bright?”

“That was bright.”

“I wanted to try this new drink. That’s all we do, isn’t it—look at things and try new drinks?”

“I guess so.”

The girl looked across at the hills.

“They’re lovely hills,” she said. “They don’t really11look like white elephants. I just meant the coloring of their skin through the trees.”

“Should we have another drink?”

“All right.”

The warm wind blew the bead curtain against the table.

“The beer’s nice and cool,” the man said.

“It’s lovely,” the girl said.

“It’s really an awfully simple operation, Jig,” the man said. “It’s not really an operation at all.”

The girl looked at the ground the table legs rested on.

“I know you wouldn’t mind it, Jig. It’s really not anything. It’s just to let the air in.”

The girl did not say anything.

“I’ll go with you and I’ll stay with you all the time. They just let the air in and then it’s all perfectly natural.”

“Then what will we do afterward?”

“We’ll be fine afterward. Just like we were before.”

“What makes you think so?”

“That’s the only thing that bothers us. It’s the only thing that’s made us unhappy.”

The girl looked at the bead curtain, put her hand out and took hold of two of the strings of beads.

“And you think then we’ll be all right and be happy.”

“I know we will. You don’t have to be afraid. I’ve known lots of people that have done it.”

“So have I,” said the girl. “And afterward they were all so happy.”

“Well,” the man said, “if you don’t want to you don’t have to. I wouldn’t have you do it if you didn’t want to. But I know it’s perfectly simple.”

“And you really want to?”

“I think it’s the best thing to do. But I don’t want you to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“And if I do it you’ll be happy and things will be like they were and you’ll love me?”

“I love you now. You know I love you.”

12

“I know. But if I do it, then it will be nice again if I say things are like white elephants, and you’ll like it?”

“I’ll love it. I love it now but I just can’t think about it. You know how I get when I worry.”

“If I do it you won’t ever worry?”

“I won’t worry about that because it’s perfectly simple.”

“Then I’ll do it. Because I don’t care about me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t care about me.”

“Well, I care about you.”

“Oh, yes. But I don’t care about me. And I’ll do it and then everything will be fine.”

“I don’t want you to do it if you feel that way.”

The girl stood up and walked to the end of the station. Across, on the other side, were fields of grain and trees along the banks of the Ebro. Far away, beyond the river, were mountains. The shadow of a cloud moved across the field of grain and she saw the river through the trees.

“And we could have all this,” she said. “And we could have everything and every day we make it more impossible.”

“What did you say?”

“I said we could have everything.”

“We can have everything.”

“No, we can’t.”

“We can have the whole world.”

“No, we can’t.”

“We can go everywhere.”

“No, we can’t. It isn’t ours any more.”

“It’s ours.”

“No, it isn’t. And once they take it away, you never get it back.”

“But they haven’t taken it away.”

“We’ll wait and see.”

“Come on back in the shade,” he said. “You mustn’t feel that way.”

13

“I don’t feel any way,” the girl said. “I just know things.”

“I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do——”

“Nor that isn’t good for me,” she said. “I know. Could we have another beer?”

“All right. But you’ve got to realize——”

“I realize,” the girl said. “Can’t we maybe stop talking?”

They sat down at the table and the girl looked across at the hills on the dry side of the valley and the man looked at her and at the table.

“You’ve got to realize,” he said, “that I don’t want you to do it if you don’t want to. I’m perfectly willing to go through with it if it means anything to you.”

“Doesn’t it mean anything to you? We could get along.”

“Of course it does. But I don’t want anybody but you. I don’t want any one else. And I know it’s perfectly simple.”

“Yes, you know it’s perfectly simple.”

“It’s all right for you to say that, but I do know it.”

“Would you do something for me now?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Would you please please please please please please please stop talking?”

He did not say anything but looked at the bags against the wall of the station. There were labels on them from all the hotels where they had spent nights.

“But I don’t want you to,” he said, “I don’t care anything about it.”

“I’ll scream,” the girl said.

The woman came out through the curtains with two glasses of beer and put them down on the damp felt pads. “The train comes in five minutes,” she said.

“What did she say?” asked the girl.

14

“That the train is coming in five minutes.”

The girl smiled brightly at the woman, to thank her.

“I’d better take the bags over to the other side of the station,” the man said. She smiled at him.

“All right. Then come back and we’ll finish the beer.”

He picked up the two heavy bags and carried them around the station to the other tracks. He looked up the tracks but could not see the train. Coming back, he walked through the barroom, where people waiting for the train were drinking. He drank an Anis at the bar and looked at the people. They were all waiting reasonably for the train. He went out through the bead curtain. She was sitting at the table and smiled at him.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“I feel fine,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine.”

Winter Dreams

By F. Scott Fitzgerald

SOME OF THE CADDIES were poor as sin and lived in one
room houses with a neurasthenic cow in the front yard, but
Dexter Green’s father owned the second best grocery-store in
Black Bear–the best one was “The Hub,” patronized by the
wealthy people from Sherry Island–and Dexter caddied only
for pocket-money.
In the fall when the days became crisp and gray, and the long
Minnesota winter shut down like the white lid of a box, Dexter’s
skis moved over the snow that hid the fairways of the golf
course. At these times the country gave him a feeling of
profound melancholy–it offended him that the links should lie in
enforced fallowness, haunted by ragged sparrows for the long
season. It was dreary, too, that on the tees where the gay
colors fluttered in summer there were now only the desolate
sand-boxes knee-deep in crusted ice. When he crossed the
hills the wind blew cold as misery, and if the sun was out he
tramped with his eyes squinted up against the hard
dimensionless glare.
In April the winter ceased abruptly. The snow ran down into
Black Bear Lake scarcely tarrying for the early golfers to brave
the season with red and black balls. Without elation, without an
interval of moist glory, the cold was gone.
Dexter knew that there was something dismal about this
Northern spring, just as he knew there was something
gorgeous about the fall. Fall made him clinch his hands and
tremble and repeat idiotic sentences to himself, and make brisk
abrupt gestures of command to imaginary audiences and
armies. October filled him with hope which November raised to
a sort of ecstatic triumph, and in this mood the fleeting brilliant
impressions of the summer at Sherry Island were ready grist to
his mill. He became a golf champion and defeated Mr. T. A.
Hedrick in a marvellous match played a hundred times over the
fairways of his imagination, a match each detail of which he
changed about untiringly–sometimes he won with almost
laughable ease, sometimes he came up magnificently from
behind. Again, stepping from a Pierce-Arrow automobile, like
Mr. Mortimer Jones, he strolled frigidly into the lounge of the
Sherry Island Golf Club– or perhaps, surrounded by an
admiring crowd, he gave an exhibition of fancy diving from the
spring-board of the club raft. . . . Among those who watched
him in open-mouthed wonder was Mr. Mortimer Jones.
And one day it came to pass that Mr. Jones–himself and not
his ghost– came up to Dexter with tears in his eyes and said
that Dexter was the—-best caddy in the club, and wouldn’t he
decide not to quit if Mr. Jones made it worth his while, because
every other caddy in the club lost one ball a hole for him–
regularly—-
“No, sir,” said Dexter decisively, “I don’t want to caddy any
more.” Then, after a pause: “I’m too old.”
“You’re not more than fourteen. Why the devil did you decide
just this morning that you wanted to quit? You promised that
next week you’d go over to the State tournament with me.”
Dexter handed in his “A Class” badge, collected what money
was due him from the caddy master, and walked home to
Black Bear Village.
“The best—-caddy I ever saw,” shouted Mr. Mortimer Jones
over a drink that afternoon. “Never lost a ball! Willing!
Intelligent! Quiet! Honest! Grateful!”
The little girl who had done this was eleven–beautifully ugly as
little girls are apt to be who are destined after a few years to be
inexpressibly lovely and bring no end of misery to a great
number of men. The spark, however, was perceptible. There
was a general ungodliness in the way her lips twisted ,down at
the corners when she smiled, and in the–Heaven help us!–in
the almost passionate quality of her eyes. Vitality is born early
in such women. It was utterly in evidence now, shining through
her thin frame in a sort of glow.
She had come eagerly out on to the course at nine o’clock with
a white linen nurse and five small new golf-clubs in a white
canvas bag which the nurse was carrying. When Dexter first
saw her she was standing by the caddy house, rather ill at
ease and trying to conceal the fact by engaging her nurse in an
obviously unnatural conversation graced by startling and
irrelevant grimaces from herself.
“Well, it’s certainly a nice day, Hilda,” Dexter heard her say.
She drew down the corners of her mouth, smiled, and glanced
furtively around, her eyes in transit falling for an instant on
Dexter.
Then to the nurse:
“Well, I guess there aren’t very many people out here this
morning, are there?”
The smile again–radiant, blatantly artificial–convincing.
“I don’t know what we’re supposed to do now,” said the nurse,
looking nowhere in particular.
“Oh, that’s all right. I’ll fix it up.
Dexter stood perfectly still, his mouth slightly ajar. He knew
that if he moved forward a step his stare would be in her line of
vision–if he moved backward he would lose his full view of her
face. For a moment he had not realized how young she was.
Now he remembered having seen her several times the year
before in bloomers.
Suddenly, involuntarily, he laughed, a short abrupt laugh–
then, startled by himself, he turned and began to walk quickly
away.
“Boy!”
Dexter stopped.
“Boy—-”
1
“I don’t think I’ll go out to-day,” said Dexter.
Beyond question he was addressed. Not only that, but he was
treated to that absurd smile, that preposterous smile–the
memory of which at least a dozen men were to carry into
middle age.
“Boy, do you know where the golf teacher is?”
“He’s giving a lesson.”
“Well, do you know where the caddy-master is?”
“He isn’t here yet this morning.”
“Oh.” For a moment this baffled her. She stood alternately on
her right and left foot.
“We’d like to get a caddy,” said the nurse. “Mrs. Mortimer
Jones sent us out to play golf, and we don’t know how without
we get a caddy.”
Here she was stopped by an ominous glance from Miss Jones,
followed immediately by the smile.
“There aren’t any caddies here except me,” said Dexter to the
nurse, “and I got to stay here in charge until the caddy-master
gets here.”
“Oh.”
Miss Jones and her retinue now withdrew, and at a proper
distance from Dexter became involved in a heated
conversation, which was concluded by Miss Jones taking one
of the clubs and hitting it on the ground with violence. For
further emphasis she raised it again and was about to bring it
down smartly upon the nurse’s bosom, when the nurse seized
the club and twisted it from her hands.
“You damn little mean old thing!” cried Miss Jones wildly.
Another argument ensued. Realizing that the elements of the
comedy were implied in the scene, Dexter several times began
to laugh, but each time restrained the laugh before it reached
audibility. He could not resist the monstrous conviction that the
little girl was justified in beating the nurse.
The situation was resolved by the fortuitous appearance of the
caddymaster, who was appealed to immediately by the nurse.
“Miss Jones is to have a little caddy, and this one says he can’t
go.”
“Mr. McKenna said I was to wait here till you came,” said
Dexter quickly.
“Well, he’s here now.” Miss Jones smiled cheerfully at the
caddy-master. Then she dropped her bag and set off at a
haughty mince toward the first tee.
“Well?” The caddy-master turned to Dexter. “What you
standing there like a dummy for? Go pick up the young lady’s
clubs.”
“You don’t—-”
“I think I’ll quit.”
The enormity of his decision frightened him. He was a favorite
caddy, and the thirty dollars a month he earned through the
summer were not to be made elsewhere around the lake. But
he had received a strong emotional shock, and his perturbation
required a violent and immediate outlet.
It is not so simple as that, either. As so frequently would be the
case in the future, Dexter was unconsciously dictated to by his
winter dreams.
II
NOW, OF COURSE, the quality and the seasonability of these
winter dreams varied, but the stuff of them remained. They
persuaded Dexter several years later to pass up a business
course at the State university–his father, prospering now,
would have paid his way–for the precarious advantage of
attending an older and more famous university in the East,
where he was bothered by his scanty funds. But do not get the
impression, because his winter dreams happened to be
concerned at first with musings on the rich, that there was
anything merely snobbish in the boy. He wanted not
association with glittering things and glittering people–he
wanted the glittering things themselves. Often he reached out
for the best without knowing why he wanted it–and sometimes
he ran up against the mysterious denials and prohibitions in
which life indulges. It is with one of those denials and not with
his career as a whole that this story deals.
He made money. It was rather amazing. After college he went
to the city from which Black Bear Lake draws its wealthy
patrons. When he was only twenty-three and had been there
not quite two years, there were already people who liked to
say: “Now there’s a boy–” All about him rich men’s sons were
peddling bonds precariously, or investing patrimonies
precariously, or plodding through the two dozen volumes of the
“George Washington Commercial Course,” but Dexter
borrowed a thousand dollars on his college degree and his
confident mouth, and bought a partnership in a laundry.
It was a small laundry when he went into it but Dexter made a
specialty of learning how the English washed fine woollen golf
stockings without shrinking them, and within a year he was
catering to the trade that wore knickerbockers. Men were
insisting that their Shetland hose and sweaters go to his
laundry just as they had insisted on a caddy who could find
golfballs. A little later he was doing their wives’ lingerie as well–and running five branches in different parts of the city. Before
he was twenty-seven he owned the largest string of laundries
in his section of the country. It was then that he sold out and
went to New York. But the part of his story that concerns us
goes back to the days when he was making his first big
success.
When he was twenty-three Mr. Hart–one of the gray-haired
men who like to say “Now there’s a boy”–gave him a guest
2
card to the Sherry Island Golf Club for a week-end. So he
signed his name one day on the register, and that afternoon
played golf in a foursome with Mr. Hart and Mr. Sandwood and
Mr. T. A. Hedrick. He did not consider it necessary to remark
that he had once carried Mr. Hart’s bag over this same links,
and that he knew every trap and gully with his eyes shut–but
he found himself glancing at the four caddies who trailed them,
trying to catch a gleam or gesture that would remind him of
himself, that would lessen the gap which lay between his
present and his past.
It was a curious day, slashed abruptly with fleeting, familiar
impressions. One minute he had the sense of being a
trespasser–in the next he was impressed by the tremendous
superiority he felt toward Mr. T. A. Hedrick, who was a bore
and not even a good golfer any more.
Then, because of a ball Mr. Hart lost near the fifteenth green,
an enormous thing happened. While they were searching the
stiff grasses of the rough there was a clear call of “Fore!” from
behind a hill in their rear. And as they all turned abruptly from
their search a bright new ball sliced abruptly over the hill and
caught Mr. T. A. Hedrick in the abdomen.
“By Gad!” cried Mr. T. A. Hedrick, “they ought to put some of
these crazy women off the course. It’s getting to be
outrageous.”
A head and a voice came up together over the hill:
“Do you mind if we go through?”
“You hit me in the stomach!” declared Mr. Hedrick wildly.
“Did I?” The girl approached the group of men. “I’m sorry. I
yelled ‘Fore !'”
Her glance fell casually on each of the men–then scanned the
fairway for her ball.
“Did I bounce into the rough?”
It was impossible to determine whether this question was
ingenuous or malicious. In a moment, however, she left no
doubt, for as her partner came up over the hill she called
cheerfully:
“Here I am! I’d have gone on the green except that I hit
something.”
As she took her stance for a short mashie shot, Dexter looked
at her closely. She wore a blue gingham dress, rimmed at
throat and shoulders with a white edging that accentuated her
tan. The quality of exaggeration, of thinness, which had made
her passionate eyes and down-turning mouth absurd at eleven,
was gone now. She was arrestingly beautiful. The color in her
cheeks was centered like the color in a picture–it was not a
“high” color, but a sort of fluctuating and feverish warmth, so
shaded that it seemed at any moment it would recede and
disappear. This color and the mobility of her mouth gave a
continual impression of flux, of intense life, of passionate
vitality–balanced only partially by the sad luxury of her eyes.
She swung her mashie impatiently and without interest,
pitching the ball into a sand-pit on the other side of the green.
With a quick, insincere smile and a careless “Thank you!” she
went on after it.
“That Judy Jones!” remarked Mr. Hedrick on the next tee, as
they waited–some moments–for her to play on ahead. “All she
needs is to be turned up and spanked for six months and then
to be married off to an oldfashioned cavalry captain.”
“My God, she’s good-looking!” said Mr. Sandwood, who was
just over thirty.
“Good-looking!” cried Mr. Hedrick contemptuously, “she always
looks as if she wanted to be kissed! Turning those big cow
eyes on every calf in town!”
It was doubtful if Mr. Hedrick intended a reference to the
maternal instinct.
“She’d play pretty good golf if she’d try,” said Mr. Sandwood.
“She has no form,” said Mr. Hedrick solemnly.
“She has a nice figure,” said Mr. Sandwood.
“Better thank the Lord she doesn’t drive a swifter ball,” said Mr.
Hart, winking at Dexter.
Later in the afternoon the sun went down with a riotous swirl of
gold and varying blues and scarlets, and left the dry, rustling
night of Western summer. Dexter watched from the veranda of
the Golf Club, watched the even overlap of the waters in the
little wind, silver molasses under the harvest-moon. Then the
moon held a finger to her lips and the lake became a clear
pool, pale and quiet. Dexter put on his bathing-suit and swam
out to the farthest raft, where he stretched dripping on the wet
canvas of the springboard.
There was a fish jumping and a star shining and the lights
around the lake were gleaming. Over on a dark peninsula a
piano was playing the songs of last summer and of summers
before that– songs from “Chin-Chin” and “The Count of
Luxemburg” and “The Chocolate Soldier”–and because the
sound of a piano over a stretch of water had always seemed
beautiful to Dexter he lay perfectly quiet and listened.
The tune the piano was playing at that moment had been gay
and new five years before when Dexter was a sophomore at
college. They had played it at a prom once when he could not
afford the luxury of proms, and he had stood outside the
gymnasium and listened. The sound of the tune precipitated in
him a sort of ecstasy and it was with that ecstasy he viewed
what happened to him now. It was a mood of intense
appreciation, a sense that, for once, he was magnificently
attune to life and that everything about him was radiating a
brightness and a glamour he might never know again.
A low, pale oblong detached itself suddenly from the darkness
of the Island, spitting forth the reverberate sound of a racing
motor-boat. Two white streamers of cleft water rolled
themselves out behind it and almost immediately the boat was
beside him, drowning out the hot tinkle of the piano in the
drone of its spray. Dexter raising himself on his arms was
3
aware of a figure standing at the wheel, of two dark eyes
regarding him over the lengthening space of water–then the
boat had gone by and was sweeping in an immense and
purposeless circle of spray round and round in the middle of
the lake. With equal eccentricity one of the circles flattened out
and headed back toward the raft.
“Who’s that?” she called, shutting off her motor. She was so
near now that Dexter could see her bathing-suit, which
consisted apparently of pink rompers.
The nose of the boat bumped the raft, and as the latter tilted
rakishly he was precipitated toward her. With different degrees
of interest they recognized each other.
“Aren’t you one of those men we played through this
afternoon?” she demanded.
He was.
“Well, do you know how to drive a motor-boat? Because if you
do I wish you’d drive this one so I can ride on the surf-board
behind. My name is Judy Jones”–she favored him with an
absurd smirk–rather, what tried to be a smirk, for, twist her
mouth as she might, it was not grotesque, it was merely
beautiful–“and I live in a house over there on the Island, and in
that house there is a man waiting for me. When he drove up at
the door I drove out of the dock because he says I’m his ideal.”
There was a fish jumping and a star shining and the lights
around the lake were gleaming. Dexter sat beside Judy Jones
and she explained how her boat was driven. Then she was in
the water, swimming to the floating surfboard with a sinuous
crawl. Watching her was without effort to the eye, watching a
branch waving or a sea-gull flying. Her arms, burned to
butternut, moved sinuously among the dull platinum ripples,
elbow appearing first, casting the forearm back with a cadence
of falling water, then reaching out and down, stabbing a path
ahead.
They moved out into the lake; turning, Dexter saw that she was
kneeling on the low rear of the now uptilted surf-board.
“Go faster,” she called, “fast as it’ll go.”
Obediently he jammed the lever forward and the white spray
mounted at the bow. When he looked around again the girl
was standing up on the rushing board, her arms spread wide,
her eyes lifted toward the moon.
“It’s awful cold,” she shouted. “What’s your name?”
He told her.
“Well, why don’t you come to dinner to-morrow night?”
His heart turned over like the fly-wheel of the boat, and, for the
second time, her casual whim gave a new direction to his life.
NEXT EVENING while he waited for her to come down-stairs,
Dexter peopled the soft deep summer room and the sun-porch
that opened from it with the men who had already loved Judy
Jones. He knew the sort of men they were–the men who when
he first went to college had entered from the great prep
schools with graceful clothes and the deep tan of healthy
summers. He had seen that, in one sense, he was better than
these men. He was newer and stronger. Yet in acknowledging
to himself that he wished his children to be like them he was
admitting that he was but the rough, strong stuff from which
they eternally sprang.
When the time had come for him to wear good clothes, he had
known who were the best tailors in America, and the best
tailors in America had made him the suit he wore this evening.
He had acquired that particular reserve peculiar to his
university, that set it off from other universities. He recognized
the value to him of such a mannerism and he had adopted it;
he knew that to be careless in dress and manner required
more confidence than to be careful. But carelessness was for
his children. His mother’s name had been Krimslich. She was a
Bohemian of the peasant class and she had talked broken
English to the end of her days. Her son must keep to the set
patterns.
At a little after seven Judy Jones came down-stairs. She wore
a blue silk afternoon dress, and he was disappointed at first
that she had not put on something more elaborate. This feeling
was accentuated when, after a brief greeting, she went to the
door of a butler’s pantry and pushing it open called: “You can
serve dinner, Martha.” He had rather expected that a butler
would announce dinner, that there would be a cocktail. Then
he put these thoughts behind him as they sat down side by
side on a lounge and looked at each other.
“Father and mother won’t be here,” she said thoughtfully.
He remembered the last time he had seen her father, and he
was glad the parents were not to be here to-night–they might
wonder who he was. He had been born in Keeble, a Minnesota
village fifty miles farther north, and he always gave Keeble as
his home instead of Black Bear Village. Country towns were
well enough to come from if they weren’t inconveniently in sight
and used as footstools by fashionable lakes.
They talked of his university, which she had visited frequently
during the past two years, and of the near-by city which
supplied Sherry Island with its patrons, and whither Dexter
would return next day to his prospering laundries.
During dinner she slipped into a moody depression which gave
Dexter a feeling of uneasiness. Whatever petulance she
uttered in her throaty voice worried him. Whatever she smiled
at–at him, at a chicken liver, at nothing–it disturbed him that
her smile could have no root in mirth, or even in amusement.
When the scarlet corners of her lips curved down, it was less a
smile than an invitation to a kiss.
Then, after dinner, she led him out on the dark sun-porch and
deliberately changed the atmosphere.
“Do you mind if I weep a little?” she said.
“I’m afraid I’m boring you,” he responded quickly.
III
4
“You’re not. I like you. But I’ve just had a terrible afternoon.
There was a man I cared about, and this afternoon he told me
out of a clear sky that he was poor as a church-mouse. He’d
never even hinted it before. Does this sound horribly
mundane?”
“Perhaps he was afraid to tell you.”
“Suppose he was,” she answered. “He didn’t start right. You
see, if I’d thought of him as poor–well, I’ve been mad about
loads of poor men, and fully intended to marry them all. But in
this case, I hadn’t thought of him that way, and my interest in
him wasn’t strong enough to survive the shock. As if a girl
calmly informed her fianc_ that she was a widow. He might not
object to widows, but—-
“Let’s start right,” she interrupted herself suddenly. “Who are
you, anyhow?”
For a moment Dexter hesitated. Then:
“I’m nobody,” he announced. “My career is largely a matter of
futures.”
“Are you poor?”
“No,” he said frankly, “I’m probably making more money than
any man my age in the Northwest. I know that’s an obnoxious
remark, but you advised me to start right.”
There was a pause. Then she smiled and the corners of her
mouth drooped and an almost imperceptible sway brought her
closer to him, looking up into his eyes. A lump rose in Dexter’s
throat, and he waited breathless for the experiment, facing the
unpredictable compound that would form mysteriously from the
elements of their lips. Then he saw–she communicated her
excitement to him, lavishly, deeply, with kisses that were not a
promise but a fulfillment. They aroused in him not hunger
demanding renewal but surfeit that would demand more surfeit
. . . kisses that were like charity, creating want by holding back
nothing at all.
It did not take him many hours to decide that he had wanted
Judy Jones ever since he was a proud, desirous little boy.
IV
IT BEGAN like that–and continued, with varying shades of
intensity, on such a note right up to the d_nouement. Dexter
surrendered a part of himself to the most direct and
unprincipled personality with which he had ever come in
contact. Whatever Judy wanted, she went after with the full
pressure of her charm. There was no divergence of method, no
jockeying for position or premeditation of effects–there was a
very little mental side to any of her affairs. She simply made
men conscious to the highest degree of her physical
loveliness. Dexter had no desire to change her. Her
deficiencies were knit up with a passionate energy that
transcended and justified them.
When, as Judy’s head lay against his shoulder that first night,
she whispered, “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Last
night I thought I was in love with a man and to-night I think I’m
in love with you—-“–it seemed to him a beautiful and romantic
thing to say. It was the exquisite excitability that for the
moment he controlled and owned. But a week later he was
compelled to view this same quality in a different light. She
took him in her roadster to a picnic supper, and after supper
she disappeared, likewise in her roadster, with another man.
Dexter became enormously upset and was scarcely able to be
decently civil to the other people present. When she assured
him that she had not kissed the other man, he knew she was
lying–yet he was glad that she had taken the trouble to lie to
him.
He was, as he found before the summer ended, one of a
varying dozen who circulated about her. Each of them had at
one time been favored above all others–about half of them still
basked in the solace of occasional sentimental revivals.
Whenever one showed signs of dropping out through long
neglect, she granted him a brief honeyed hour, which
encouraged him to tag along for a year or so longer. Judy
made these forays upon the helpless and defeated without
malice, indeed half unconscious that there was anything
mischievous in what she did.
When a new man came to town every one dropped out–dates
were automatically cancelled.
The helpless part of trying to do anything about it was that she
did it all herself. She was not a girl who could be “won” in the
kinetic sense–she was proof against cleverness, she was
proof against charm; if any of these assailed her too strongly
she would immediately resolve the affair to a physical basis,
and under the magic of her physical splendor the strong as
well as the brilliant played her game and not their own. She
was entertained only by the gratification of her desires and by
the direct exercise of her own charm. Perhaps from so much
youthful love, so many youthful lovers, she had come, in self
defense, to nourish herself wholly from within.
Succeeding Dexter’s first exhilaration came restlessness and
dissatisfaction. The helpless ecstasy of losing himself in her
was opiate rather than tonic. It was fortunate for his work
during the winter that those moments of ecstasy came
infrequently. Early in their acquaintance it had seemed for a
while that there was a deep and spontaneous mutual attraction
that first August, for example–three days of long evenings on
her dusky veranda, of strange wan kisses through the late
afternoon, in shadowy alcoves or behind the protecting trellises
of the garden arbors, of mornings when she was fresh as a
dream and almost shy at meeting him in the clarity of the rising
day. There was all the ecstasy of an engagement about it,
sharpened by his realization that there was no engagement. It
was during those three days that, for the first time, he had
asked her to marry him. She said “maybe some day,” she said
“kiss me,” she said “I’d like to marry you,” she said “I love you”–she said– nothing.
The three days were interrupted by the arrival of a New York
man who visited at her house for half September. To Dexter’s
agony, rumor engaged them. The man was the son of the
president of a great trust company. But at the end of a month it
was reported that Judy was yawning. At a dance one night she
sat all evening in a motor-boat with a local beau, while the New
Yorker searched the club for her frantically. She told the local
5
beau that she was bored with her visitor, and two days later he
left. She was seen with him at the station, and it was reported
that he looked very mournful indeed.
On this note the summer ended. Dexter was twenty-four, and
he found himself increasingly in a position to do as he wished.
He joined two clubs in the city and lived at one of them.
Though he was by no means an integral part of the stag-lines
at these clubs, he managed to be on hand at dances where
Judy Jones was likely to appear. He could have gone out
socially as much as he liked–he was an eligible young man,
now, and popular with down-town fathers. His confessed
devotion to Judy Jones had rather solidified his position. But he
had no social aspirations and rather despised the dancing men
who were always on tap for the Thursday or Saturday parties
and who filled in at dinners with the younger married set.
Already he was playing with the idea of going East to New
York. He wanted to take Judy Jones with him. No disillusion as
to the world in which she had grown up could cure his illusion
as to her desirability.
Remember that–for only in the light of it can what he did for
her be understood.
Eighteen months after he first met Judy Jones he became
engaged to another girl. Her name was Irene Scheerer, and
her father was one of the men who had always believed in
Dexter. Irene was light-haired and sweet and honorable, and a
little stout, and she had two suitors whom she pleasantly
relinquished when Dexter formally asked her to marry him.
Summer, fall, winter, spring, another summer, another fall– so
much he had given of his active life to the incorrigible lips of
Judy Jones. She had treated him with interest, with
encouragement, with malice, with indifference, with contempt.
She had inflicted on him the innumerable little slights and
indignities possible in such a case–as if in revenge for having
ever cared for him at all. She had beckoned him and yawned
at him and beckoned him again and he had responded often
with bitterness and narrowed eyes. She had brought him
ecstatic happiness and intolerable agony of spirit. She had
caused him untold inconvenience and not a little trouble. She
had insulted him, and she had ridden over him, and she had
played his interest in her against his interest in his work–for
fun. She had done everything to him except to criticise him-
this she had not done– it seemed to him only because it might
have sullied the utter indifference she manifested and sincerely
felt toward him.
When autumn had come and gone again it occurred to him that
he could not have Judy Jones. He had to beat this into his
mind but he convinced himself at last. He lay awake at night for
a while and argued it over. He told himself the trouble and the
pain she had caused him, he enumerated her glaring
deficiencies as a wife. Then he said to himself that he loved
her, and after a while he fell asleep. For a week, lest he
imagined her husky voice over the telephone or her eyes
opposite him at lunch, he worked hard and late, and at night he
went to his office and plotted out his years.
At the end of a week he went to a dance and cut in on her
once. For almost the first time since they had met he did not
ask her to sit out with him or tell her that she was lovely. It hurt
him that she did not miss these things–that was all. He was not
jealous when he saw that there was a new man to-night. He
had been hardened against jealousy long before.
He stayed late at the dance. He sat for an hour with Irene
Scheerer and talked about books and about music. He knew
very little about either. But he was beginning to be master of
his own time now, and he had a rather priggish notion that he-
the young and already fabulously successful Dexter Green-
should know more about such things.
That was in October, when he was twenty-five. In January,
Dexter and Irene became engaged. It was to be announced in
June, and they were to be married three months later.
The Minnesota winter prolonged itself interminably, and it was
almost May when the winds came soft and the snow ran down
into Black Bear Lake at last. For the first time in over a year
Dexter was enjoying a certain tranquility of spirit. Judy Jones
had been in Florida, and afterward in Hot Springs, and
somewhere she had been engaged, and somewhere she had
broken it off. At first, when Dexter had definitely given her up, it
had made him sad that people still linked them together and
asked for news of her, but when he began to be placed at
dinner next to Irene Scheerer people didn’t ask him about her
any more–they told him about her. He ceased to be an
authority on her.
May at last. Dexter walked the streets at night when the
darkness was damp as rain, wondering that so soon, with so
little done, so much of ecstasy had gone from him. May one
year back had been marked by Judy’s poignant, unforgivable,
yet forgiven turbulence–it had been one of those rare times
when he fancied she had grown to care for him. That old
penny’s worth of happiness he had spent for this bushel of
content. He knew that Irene would be no more than a curtain
spread behind him, a hand moving among gleaming tea-cups,
a voice calling to children . . . fire and loveliness were gone,
the magic of nights and the wonder of the varying hours and
seasons . . . slender lips, down-turning, dropping to his lips and
bearing him up into a heaven of eyes. . . . The thing was deep
in him. He was too strong and alive for it to die lightly.
In the middle of May when the weather balanced for a few
days on the thin bridge that led to deep summer he turned in
one night at Irene’s house. Their engagement was to be
announced in a week now–no one would be surprised at it.
And to-night they would sit together on the lounge at the
University Club and look on for an hour at the dancers. It gave
him a sense of solidity to go with her–she was so sturdily
popular, so intensely “great.”
He mounted the steps of the brownstone house and stepped
inside.
“Irene,” he called.
Mrs. Scheerer came out of the living-room to meet him.
“Dexter,” she said, “Irene’s gone up-stairs with a splitting
headache. She wanted to go with you but I made her go to
bed.”
“Nothing serious, I—-”
“Oh, no. She’s going to play golf with you in the morning. You
can spare her for just one night, can’t you, Dexter?”
6
“Everybody missed you.”
Her smile was kind. She and Dexter liked each other. In the
living-room he talked for a moment before he said good-night.
Returning to the University Club, where he had rooms, he
stood in the doorway for a moment and watched the dancers.
He leaned against the door-post, nodded at a man or two-
yawned.
“Hello, darling.”
The familiar voice at his elbow startled him. Judy Jones had
left a man and crossed the room to him–Judy Jones, a slender
enamelled doll in cloth of gold: gold in a band at her head, gold
in two slipper points at her dress’s hem. The fragile glow of her
face seemed to blossom as she smiled at him. A breeze of
warmth and light blew through the room. His hands in the
pockets of his dinner-jacket tightened spasmodically. He was
filled with a sudden excitement.
“When did you get back?” he asked casually.
“Come here and I’ll tell you about it.”
She turned and he followed her. She had been away–he could
have wept at the wonder of her return. She had passed
through enchanted streets, doing things that were like
provocative music. All mysterious happenings, all fresh and
quickening hopes, had gone away with her, come back with
her now.
She turned in the doorway.
“Have you a car here? If you haven’t, I have.”
“I have a coup_.”
In then, with a rustle of golden cloth. He slammed the door.
Into so many cars she had stepped–like this–like that– her
back against the leather, so–her elbow resting on the door–
waiting. She would have been soiled long since had there been
anything to soil her–except herself–but this was her own self
outpouring.
With an effort he forced himself to start the car and back into
the street. This was nothing, he must remember. She had done
this before, and he had put her behind him, as he would have
crossed a bad account from his books.
He drove slowly down-town and, affecting abstraction,
traversed the deserted streets of the business section, peopled
here and there where a movie was giving out its crowd or
where consumptive or pugilistic youth lounged in front of pool
halls. The clink of glasses and the slap of hands on the bars
issued from saloons, cloisters of glazed glass and dirty yellow
light.
She was watching him closely and the silence was
embarrassing, yet in this crisis he could find no casual word
with which to profane the hour. At a convenient turning he
began to zigzag back toward the University Club.
“Have you missed me?” she asked suddenly.
He wondered if she knew of Irene Scheerer. She had been
back only a day–her absence had been almost
contemporaneous with his engagement.
“What a remark!” Judy laughed sadly–without sadness. She
looked at him searchingly. He became absorbed in the
dashboard.
“You’re handsomer than you used to be,” she said thoughtfully.
“Dexter, you have the most rememberable eyes.”
He could have laughed at this, but he did not laugh. It was the
sort of thing that was said to sophomores. Yet it stabbed at
him.
“I’m awfully tired of everything, darling.” She called every one
darling, endowing the endearment with careless, individual
comraderie. “I wish you’d marry me.”
The directness of this confused him. He should have told her
now that he was going to marry another girl, but he could not
tell her. He could as easily have sworn that he had never loved
her.
“I think we’d get along,” she continued, on the same note,
“unless probably you’ve forgotten me and fallen in love with
another girl.”
Her confidence was obviously enormous. She had said, in
effect, that she found such a thing impossible to believe, that if
it were true he had merely committed a childish indiscretion–
and probably to show off. She would forgive him, because it
was not a matter of any moment but rather something to be
brushed aside lightly.
“Of course you could never love anybody but me,” she
continued. “I like the way you love me. Oh, Dexter, have you
forgotten last year?”
“No, I haven’t forgotten.”
“Neither have I! ”
Was she sincerely moved–or was she carried along by the
wave of her own acting?
“I wish we could be like that again,” she said, and he forced
himself to answer:
“I don’t think we can.”
“I suppose not. . . . I hear you’re giving Irene Scheerer a violent
rush.”
There was not the faintest emphasis on the name, yet Dexter
was suddenly ashamed.
“Oh, take me home,” cried Judy suddenly; “I don’t want to go
back to that idiotic dance–with those children.”
7
Then, as he turned up the street that led to the residence
district, Judy began to cry quietly to herself. He had never seen
her cry before.
The dark street lightened, the dwellings of the rich loomed up
around them, he stopped his coup_ in front of the great white
bulk of the Mortimer Joneses house, somnolent, gorgeous,
drenched with the splendor of the damp moonlight. Its solidity
startled him. The strong walls, the steel of the girders, the
breadth and beam and pomp of it were there only to bring out
the contrast with the young beauty beside him. It was sturdy to
accentuate her slightness–as if to show what a breeze could
be generated by a butterfly’s wing.
He sat perfectly quiet, his nerves in wild clamor, afraid that if
he moved he would find her irresistibly in his arms. Two tears
had rolled down her wet face and trembled on her upper lip.
“I’m more beautiful than anybody else,” she said brokenly,
“why can’t I be happy?” Her moist eyes tore at his stability–her
mouth turned slowly downward with an exquisite sadness: “I’d
like to marry you if you’ll have me, Dexter. I suppose you think
I’m not worth having, but I’ll be so beautiful for you, Dexter.”
A million phrases of anger, pride, passion, hatred, tenderness
fought on his lips. Then a perfect wave of emotion washed
over him, carrying off with it a sediment of wisdom, of
convention, of doubt, of honor. This was his girl who was
speaking, his own, his beautiful, his pride.
“Won’t you come in?” He heard her draw in her breath sharply.
Waiting.
“All right,” his voice was trembling, “I’ll come in.
V
IT WAS STRANGE that neither when it was over nor a long
time afterward did he regret that night. Looking at it from the
perspective of ten years, the fact that Judy’s flare for him
endured just one month seemed of little importance. Nor did it
matter that by his yielding he subjected himself to a deeper
agony in the end and gave serious hurt to Irene Scheerer and
to Irene’s parents, who had befriended him. There was nothing
sufficiently pictorial about Irene’s grief to stamp itself on his
mind.
Dexter was at bottom hard-minded. The attitude of the city on
his action was of no importance to him, not because he was
going to leave the city, but because any outside attitude on the
situation seemed superficial. He was completely indifferent to
popular opinion. Nor, when he had seen that it was no use,
that he did not possess in himself the power to move
fundamentally or to hold Judy Jones, did he bear any malice
toward her. He loved her, and he would love her until the day
he was too old for loving–but he could not have her. So he
tasted the deep pain that is reserved only for the strong, just as
he had tasted for a little while the deep happiness.
Even the ultimate falsity of the grounds upon which Judy
terminated the engagement that she did not want to “take him
away” from Irene–Judy, who had wanted nothing else–did not
revolt him. He was beyond any revulsion or any amusement.
He went East in February with the intention of selling out his
laundries and settling in New York–but the war came to
America in March and changed his plans. He returned to the
West, handed over the management of the business to his
partner, and went into the first officers’ training-camp in late
April. He was one of those young thousands who greeted the
war with a certain amount of relief, welcoming the liberation
from webs of tangled emotion.
VI
THIS STORY is not his biography, remember, although things
creep into it which have nothing to do with those dreams he
had when he was young. We are almost done with them and
with him now. There is only one more incident to be related
here, and it happens seven years farther on.
It took place in New York, where he had done well–so well that
there were no barriers too high for him. He was thirty-two years
old, and, except for one flying trip immediately after the war, he
had not been West in seven years. A man named Devlin from
Detroit came into his office to see him in a business way, and
then and there this incident occurred, and closed out, so to
speak, this particular side of his life.
“So you’re from the Middle West,” said the man Devlin with
careless curiosity. “That’s funny–I thought men like you were
probably born and raised on Wall Street. You know–wife of
one of my best friends in Detroit came from your city. I was an
usher at the wedding.”
Dexter waited with no apprehension of what was coming.
“Judy Simms,” said Devlin with no particular interest; “Judy
Jones she was once.”
“Yes, I knew her.” A dull impatience spread over him. He had
heard, of course, that she was married–perhaps deliberately
he had heard no more.
“Awfully nice girl,” brooded Devlin meaninglessly, “I’m sort of
sorry for her.”
“Why?” Something in Dexter was alert, receptive, at once.
“Oh, Lud Simms has gone to pieces in a way. I don’t mean he
ill-uses her, but he drinks and runs around ”
“Doesn’t she run around?”
“No. Stays at home with her kids.”
“Oh.”
“She’s a little too old for him,” said Devlin.
“Too old!” cried Dexter. “Why, man, she’s only twenty-seven.”
8
He was possessed with a wild notion of rushing out into the
streets and taking a train to Detroit. He rose to his feet
spasmodically.
“I guess you’re busy,” Devlin apologized quickly. “I didn’t
realize—-”
“No, I’m not busy,” said Dexter, steadying his voice. “I’m not
busy at all. Not busy at all. Did you say she was– twenty
seven? No, I said she was twenty-seven.”
“Yes, you did,” agreed Devlin dryly.
“Go on, then. Go on.”
“What do you mean?”
“About Judy Jones.”
Devlin looked at him helplessly.
“Well, that’s, I told you all there is to it. He treats her like the
devil. Oh, they’re not going to get divorced or anything. When
he’s particularly outrageous she forgives him. In fact, I’m
inclined to think she loves him. She was a pretty girl when she
first came to Detroit.”
A pretty girl! The phrase struck Dexter as ludicrous
“Isn’t she–a pretty girl, any more?”
“Oh, she’s all right.”
“Look here,” said Dexter, sitting down suddenly, “I don’t
understand. You say she was a ‘pretty girl’ and now you say
she’s ‘all right.’ I don’t understand what you mean–Judy Jones
wasn’t a pretty girl, at all. She was a great beauty. Why, I knew
her, I knew her. She was—-”
Devlin laughed pleasantly.
“I’m not trying to start a row,” he said. “I think Judy’s a nice girl
and I like her. I can’t understand how a man like Lud Simms
could fall madly in love with her, but he did.” Then he added:
“Most of the women like her.”
Dexter looked closely at Devlin, thinking wildly that there must
be a reason for this, some insensitivity in the man or some
private malice.
“Lots of women fade just like that,” Devlin snapped his fingers.
“You must have seen it happen. Perhaps I’ve forgotten how
pretty she was at her wedding. I’ve seen her so much since
then, you see. She has nice eyes.”
A sort of dulness settled down upon Dexter. For the first time in
his life he felt like getting very drunk. He knew that he was
laughing loudly at something Devlin had said, but he did not
know what it was or why it was funny. When, in a few minutes,
Devlin went he lay down on his lounge and looked out the
window at the New York sky-line into which the sun was
sinking in dull lovely shades of pink and gold.
He had thought that having nothing else to lose he was
invulnerable at last–but he knew that he had just lost
something more, as surely as if he had married Judy Jones
and seen her fade away before his eyes.
The dream was gone. Something had been taken from him. In
a sort of panic he pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes
and tried to bring up a picture of the waters lapping on Sherry
Island and the moonlit veranda, and gingham on the golf-links
and the dry sun and the gold color of her neck’s soft down. And
her mouth damp to his kisses and her eyes plaintive with
melancholy and her freshness like new fine linen in the
morning. Why, these things were no longer in the world! They
had existed and they existed no longer.
For the first time in years the tears were streaming down his
face. But they were for himself now. He did not care about
mouth and eyes and moving hands. He wanted to care, and he
could not care. For he had gone away and he could never go
back any more. The gates were closed, the sun was gone
down, and there was no beauty but the gray beauty of steel
that withstands all time. Even the grief he could have borne
was left behind in the country of illusion, of youth, of the
richness of life, where his winter dreams had flourished.
“Long ago,” he said, “long ago, there was something in me, but
now that thing is gone. Now that thing is gone, that thing is
gone. I cannot cry. I cannot care. That thing will come back no
more.”

October 18 SBC Sentinel Legal Notices

ORDER TO SHOW CAUSE FOR CHANGE OF NAME
CIV SB 2427766
TO ALL INTERESTED PERSONS:
Petitioner JOUZLIN CELESTE AMADOR filed with this court for a decree changing names as follows:
JOUZLIN CELESTE AMADOR to JOUZLIN CELESTE PUENTE
THE COURT ORDERS that all persons interested in this matter appear before this court at the hearing indicated below to show cause, if any, why the petition for change of name should not be granted. Any person objecting to the name changes described above must file a written objection that includes the reasons for the objection at least two court days before the matter is scheduled to be heard and must appear at the hearing to show cause why the petition should not be granted. If no written objection is timely filed, the court may grant the petition without a hearing.
Notice of Hearing:
Date: November 5, 2024
Time: 8:30 a.m.
Department: S31
The address of the court is Superior Court of California, County of San Bernardino, 247 West Third Street, San Bernardino, CA 92415
IT IS FURTHER ORDERED that a copy of this order be published in the San Bernardino County Sentinel in San Bernardino County California, once a week for four successive weeks prior to the date set for hearing of the petition.
Gilbert G. Ochoa
Judge of the Superior Court.
Filed: September 24, 2024 by
Shuai Zhou, Deputy Court Clerk
Jessica Vanessa Avila
6287 Apple Ave
Rialto, CA 92377
(909) 728-0455
jouzlinca14@gmail.com
Published in the San Bernardino County Sentinel on September 27 and October 4, 11 & 18, 2024.

ORDER TO SHOW CAUSE FOR CHANGE OF NAME CASE
NUMBER CVCO2406067,
TO ALL INTERESTED PERSONS: Petitioner: Sandra Zurisadai Becerril Cuarenta, filed with this court for a decree changing names as follows: Sandra Zurisadai Becerril Cuarenta to Sandy Cuarenta Becerril, THE COURT ORDERS that all persons interested in this matter appear before this court at the hearing indicated below to show cause, if any, why the petition for change of name should not be granted. Any person objecting to the name changes described above must file a written objection that includes the reasons for the objection at least two court days before the matter is scheduled to be heard and must appear at the hearing to show cause why the petition should not be granted. If no written objection is timely filed, the court may grant the petition without a hearing.
Notice of Hearing:
Date: 11/06/2024, Time: 08:00 AM, Department: C2The address of the court is Superior Court of California, County of Riverside, Corona, 505 S. Buena Vista, Room 201. Corona, Ca. 92882, IT IS FURTHER ORDERED that a copy of this order be published in the SBCS ? Ontario in San Bernardino County California, once a week for four successive weeks prior to the date set for hearing of the petition.
Dated: 08/27/2024
Judge of the Superior Court: Tamara L. Wagner
Published in the SBCS Ontario on 09/27/2024, 10/04/2024, 10/11/2024, 10/18/2024

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Wapner Solidifying Hold On Post-Valencia Council With $40K Purchase Of Macias’s Future Votes

The political, business and prevailing social establishment in Ontario has acted to foreclose the possibility that anyone other than the candidate affiliated with the four members of Ontario’s current ruling coalition will prevail in what is to be the first election ever in that city’s recently-formed Fourth District.
At this point, District 4 hopeful Daisy Macias is wound up so tightly with Mayor Paul Leon, Councilman Alan Wapner and Councilwoman Debra Dorst-Porada, it is nearly impossible to discern where her body and soul begins and where the bodies and souls of the others end. 
Despite a rivalry that once existed between Leon and, primarily, Wapner as well as Wapner’s firm and fast allies on the council, Jim Bowman and Dorst-Porada, in recent years Leon, Wapner, Bowman and Dorst-Porada have marched in lockstep with one another and voted identically on virtually every matter of consequence that has come before the council in the county’s third largest city population-wise.
For nearly a decade, from 2006 until 2016, there was a bitter enmity between Wapner, who has been on the city council since 1994, and Leon, who first acceded to the council in 1998 and was elected mayor in a special election in 2005 after the departure of former Mayor Gary Ovitt to become a member of the San Bernardino County Board of Supervisors. This was based, primarily, on Wapner’s belief that he is Leon’s intellectual, political and moral superior. Wapner considers himself to be the leader Ontario truly deserves and that Leon is mayor only because of his Hispanic identity in a city in which the population is 70 percent Latino. Wapner spent ten years trying to undo Leon politically, including hiring a private investigator to dog his every step and obtain information prejudicial to the mayor, which he handed off to Studio City lawyer Loredana Nesci, who then publicly disclosed it in an effort to destroy Leon’s political career. Continue reading

“Jail House Lawyer” Strategy Has Homeless Jettisoning Tents To Avoid SB Park Eviction

Democrat
Knaus Using
Republican
Playbook

At long last a Democrat vying for local office appears to be on the brink of doing what San Bernardino County’s down home Republican politicians have been doing for a generation or longer: utilizing the money provided by self-interested donors to buy her way into office in a trade-off of her future decision-making authority for the wherewithal to capture the office she is seeking.
Kim Knaus is a political neophyte who has come, essentially, out of nowhere to become the frontrunner in the race for San Bernardino Fifth Ward Council position. Her opponent is Henry Nickel, a two-term former councilman who was upset in his bid for reelection in 2020. In March, Nickel, who unsuccessfully vied for mayor in a seven-candidate primary race in 2022, made an even more determined effort at a comeback in this year’s Fifth Ward contest, challenging the man who beat him four years ago, incumbent Ben Reynoso. Also in the March primary race was Knaus; another former Fifth Ward Councilman, Chas Kelley; and Rose Ward. Once the votes were counted, Ward, with 162 or 4.18 percent of the total 3,878 votes cast; Kelley with 490 votes or 12.64 percent; and Reynoso, with 812 votes or 20.94 percent, were also-rans, finishing, respectively, fifth, fourth and third. In San Bernardino, a candidate vying for municipal office who captures a majority of the vote – at least 50 percent plus at least one additional vote – is declared the winner. If, in a contest involving more than two candidates, no competitor captures a majority of the vote, the two hopefuls with the most votes face each other in a second contest, held in that year’s general election. Nickel and Knaus, as the two top vote-getters in March, qualified for the November run-off. While Nickel had avenged his 2020 loss to Reynoso, finishing second, with 974 votes or 25.12 percent, he was bettered, by a substantial margin, by Knaus, who garnered 1,440 votes or 37.13 percent.
On the basis of Knaus’s better than 7-to-5 outpolling ratio over Nickel in the March primary alone, by the metrics applied by most political handicappers, she would appear to be the favorite going into the November race.
There are a few peculiarities in San Bernardino’s Fifth Ward and the general trend in politics throughout San Bernardino County, however, that might have evened the odds in the race.
Nickel, for starters, is a far more experienced campaigner. In addition to the two previous races in the Fifth Ward that he won and the one that he lost, he also ran for mayor and he has twice vied, albeit unsuccessfully, for the California Assembly twice.
Moreover, Nickel is a Republican, a distinction which in San Bernardino County has for decades – indeed, for more than half of a century – represented an advantage, generally, over Democrats such as Knaus. Since the mid-1960s, San Bernardino County has been a Republican County. That was the case six decades ago, at which point registered Republicans simply outnumbered registered Democrats, and it has continued to be the case since 2009, when the number of registered Democrats eclipsed the number of registered Republicans.
While throughout the Golden State overall the Democrats since the 1990s have been in ascendancy such that three out of the last five governors were Democrats and for two decades running the lieutenant governor, attorney general, secretary of state, state superintendent of schools, insurance commissioner, controller and state treasure positions have been held overwhelmingly by Democrats, and the Democrats as well for nearly a decade have enjoyed supermajorities in both houses of the state legislature, there are five pockets throughout the state that remain as Republican bastions. One of those is San Bernardino County. In San Bernardino County, the local Republican and local Democrat parties are controlled by their respective central committees. The central committees are composed of members that are elected every four years in voting held during the presidential primary election, with Democrats voting for their central committee members based upon residency within the Assembly Districts in the county and the Republicans voting for their central committee members based upon residency within the county’s five supervisorial districts. In addition, both central committees have what are referred to as ex-officio members, those being ones who are not elected to the central committee directly but rather those members of the respective parties who are elected to vie for state legislative office. Thus, a Republican who ran for California State Senate or the Assembly, whether he or she was successful or not, would be an ex-officio member of the Republican Central Committee for a term of, respectively, four or two years, corresponding to the length of state senate and assembly terms. Likewise, the Democrat candidates for the State Senate or the Assembly would also be honored with membership in their county central committee based upon their candidacies for the state legislature.
Both the Republican Central Committee and the Democrat Central Committee are devoted to ensuring the success of the members of their respective parties during elections, those held during the gubernatorial primaries in June in California and presidential primaries in March of leap years and both the gubernatorial and presidential general elections held in in November.
By law and observed tradition in California, federal legislative, state legislative and state constitutional offices such as governor, lieutenant governor, attorney general and so forth are partisan, meaning political parties such as Democrats, Republicans and a whole host of others – American Independent, Green, Libertarian, Peace & Freedom and other even more obscure parties – can hold elections during the primary restricted to just their party members to nominate members of their party to be candidates for state and federal office in the November election. On the ballot, those running for these offices are identified in terms of their party. By law and mostly observed tradition in California, local governmental offices – such as county positions such as supervisor, sheriff, district attorney, treasurer or assessor and city posts such as mayor or council member – are nonpartisan. In this way, those running for local office are not identified as members of any party, even though most have a party affiliation. Thus, in most counties in California, party affiliation is not, or is supposed to not be, a defining issue in local elections. In San Bernardino County, however, local elections are shot through-and-through with partisan political implication.
Historically, or at least over the last 50 to 60 years, the San Bernardino County Republican Central Committee, with only the rarest of exceptions, has demonstrated itself to be much more energetic, focused, cohesive, creative, dynamic, efficient and effective than the San Bernardino County Democratic Central Committee.
San Bernardino County Republicans, as a rule in virtually every election cycle going back to the beginning of the latter third of the Twentieth Century, have raise more funds to support Republican candidates than San Bernardino Democrats have raised to support Democrats running for office. What is more, once the Republicans have had that money in hand, they have made a far more consistent practice than their Democrat counterparts in applying that money efficiently by conducting polls to ascertain the prevailing attitudes of voters, carrying out opposition research, formulating a message or series of messages and then executing on a campaign using billboards, television ads, radio spots, handbills, mailers and phone banks to promote their party’s candidates and producing attack ads or “hit pieces” to trash the reputations of their Democratic opponents.
Further, the San Bernardino County Democratic Central Committee, to the extent that it has participated in fundraising and used whatever money it has obtained to promote Democrats seeking office, it has generally drawn the line at providing that support to Democrats seeking legislative positions, either in the U.S. Congress or the State Senate or the Assembly. Rarely, meaning virtually never, has the San Bernardino County Democratic Central Committee involved itself in promoting the candidacies of members of the board of supervisors or district attorney or sheriff or assessor or mayor or council member or school board member or water board member. The Republican Central Committee, however, has more than held its own in matching or exceeding the Democrats while pushing the candidacies of those running for Congress or the state legislature. At the same time the San Bernardino County Republican Central Committee has gone further, substantially further, in running or assisting campaigns of Republicans seeking county or municipal or local agency offices, including candidates for school board or water board or fire board. While some coordination of resources at a grace roots level takes place in which Democrats help Democrats in trying to get elected, those efforts are not ones that involve the Democratic Central Committee and its resources and machinery.
An indicator of Republicans’ ability to to hitch up all of its horses to the same side of the wagon to have them pull in unison and in the same direction and the comparative dysfunction of the local Democratic Party can be seen in looking at the county’s overall numbers in terms of voter registration and then contrasting that with who the holders of political offices in San Bernardino County are.
Over the entirety of San Bernardino County and its 1,197,840 registered voters, those who self-affiliate with the Democratic Party, 475,955 or 39.7 percent, convincingly outnumber registered Republicans, at 363,984 or 30.4 percent. Still, engaged Republicans outhustle engaged Democrats and do a far better job of convincing their less active party colleagues to get out and vote than do their Democrat rivals. Of the five positions on the San Bernardino County Board of Supervisors, four are held by Republicans. On the 22 city and two town councils among the 24 incorporated municipalities in San Bernardino County, 17 have more Republican members than Democrats. Eighteen of the county’s 24 mayors are Republicans. While the assembly members and state senators representing San Bernardino County in the California legislature and the members of Congress representing San Bernardino County in Washington, D.C. are evenly divided between Democrats and Republicans, that is because several of those districts overlap into Los Angeles, Orange or Riverside counties, where the Democrats are more dominant. In San Bernardino County, the lion’s share of the votes for state and federal lawmakers go to Republicans. All of this is despite the clear advantage in sheer numbers the Democrats have over Republicans in San Bernardino County terms of registered voters.
In San Bernardino’s Fifth Ward, Democrats hold a decided advantage over Republicans in terms of sheer numbers. Of the ward’s 17,555 registered voters 7,785 or 44.3 percent are Democrats, a number which dwarfs the district’s 4,614 Republicans, who represent just over a quarter, some 26.3 percent, of the jurisdiction’s voters. Nevertheless, Democratic voter turnout in the Fifth Ward lags significantly behind that of Republicans. In the 2020 election, 87.36 percent of the Republicans registered to vote in Ward 5 voted. In the same election, 53.47 percent of the Democrats in Ward 5 eligible to vote voted. And that turnout was an anomaly over what normally occurs in Ward 5. Reynoso, with 1,295 votes out of 5,083 cast in the six-candidate March 2020 Primary Race in Ward 5, trailed significantly behind Nickel and his 1,802 votes, at that time, placing second with 25.48 percent of the vote to the incumbent’s 35.45 percent. Reynoso, a young and upcoming political activist and relatively recent college graduate, utilized a strategy of registering college students living on campus or near campus at Cal State San Bernardino, which lies within the Fifth Ward, to make up for the difference between him and his opponent in the March 2020 Primary Race and overcome Nickel in the November 2020 General Election. This artificially boosted the Democratic turnout in that election, and contributed to Reynoso’s victory.
Knaus is herself a Cal State San Bernardino graduate, albeit one who is a half-generation older than Reynoso.
She is no less identifiable with the Democratic Party than was Reynoso, having
worked as a field representative for the one Democrat currently on the San Bernardino County Board of Supervisors, Joe Baca Jr. She has been involved in civic engagement, including neighborhood trash cleanups, the Verdemont Revitalization Project, and efforts at promoting greater socialization within the community that extended to reviving the movie nights in the park and a monthly food festival, which had the added effect of promoting small businesses.
It is for that reason not surprising that when Knaus expressed interest in running for the Fifth Ward council post, she garnered support, including that of the unions and the Democrats, who had been put off somewhat by Reynoso’s lack of focus on political and governmental issues in the last year or so, despite his being the Ward 5 incumbent, as he has been recently abstracted into the role of being a first-time father.
Despite being a county employee, working as an analyst in San Bernardino County’s Workforce Development, which automatically enrolls him in the union representing county workers, Nickel as a politician has expressed anti-unionist sentiments. While that has made him a member in good standing within a certain wing of the Republican Party, it has also earned him the enmity of the union activists working locally. In a way that might have not been anticipated, this cut into the patchwork of support that Nickel was counting on to regain a position on the city council. As a Republican, some figured he would pick up the support of law enforcement across the board. But the police officers’ union that counted, The San Bernardino Police Officer Association, endorsed Knaus.
Also as a Republican, Nickel was half-expectant that any number of the political action committees and independent expenditure committees that have cropped up in recent years as a “special augmentation” to the San Bernardino County Republican Central Committee and which have been a critical element of the Republicans being able to maintain their edge over the Democrats in the county would come to his assistance. Certainly, Nickel never expected that one of those key politica action committees would provide money to Knaus. That is, however, what happened.
The Inland Empire Business Alliance and its Political Action Committee over the last three to four election cycles established themselves as major players in San Bernardino County politics, raising money for and donating almost exclusively to Republican candidates. In those rare circumstances where the Inland Empire Business Alliance Political Action Committee did come to the assistance of a Democrat, there were either no Republicans involved in those races or the race included a Republican who had in some fashion gotten on the wrong side of the political establishment.
On February 28, just prior to the March primary election, the Inland Empire Business Alliance provided Knaus with $5,500.
Instrumental in Knaus getting that money was Michelle Sabino.
Until recently and perhaps up to the present, Sabino has been considered a rising star in the San Bernardino County Republican Party. Sabino is a member of the San Bernardino County Central Committee, in which capacity she was elevated to the position of Third District representative on the cental committee’s executive board by Republican Central Committee Chairman Phil Cothran Sr.
She has represented herself as a passionate Republican and based upon that reputation, she was entrusted with serving the party in the role of board member of the Inland Empire Business Alliance Political Action Committee. In that organization, she is charged with ascertaining whom the political action committee will support in their electoral efforts.
For reasons that are inexplicable, when the Inland Empire Business Alliance Political Action Committee’s board got around to determining which candidate that organization would support in the Fifth Ward contest, it chose to back Knaus, the Democrat, over Nickel, the Republican.
The interpretations of what occurred are myriad.
Some figure that gone are the days when the local business community, composed primarily of Republicans, had committed itself to perpetuating in office business-friendly Republicans. Rather, it appears, members of the business community have taken a hard look at the numbers – including the number of Republicans in the state legislature vs. the number of Democrats in the state legislature – and resolved to make a transition.
Some contend that after years of fielding anemic candidates who did not understand the elective process and who were waiting upon others to formulate a winning strategy for them who never materialized, the Democrats have had an infusion of energetic young blood who are ready to head out onto the hustings and campaign, bringing to themselves support from areas the Democrats previously had not tapped into.
One theory is that the long transitional process that is taking San Bernardino County from being a thoroughly Republican-oriented region to one leaning toward the Democrats has progressed to the point that it is no longer unfashonable to embrace Democrats.
Others say that rather what has happened is that the county Republican establishment has been infiltrated by Democrat operatives – Democrats at heart who are masquerading as Republicans – and that they are awork eating away at the foundations of the county Republican Party from within.
One such Democrat sheep in Republican wool, many are saying, is Sabino.
Sabino utilized her Republican credentials to wangle an appointment to the Grand Terrace City Council in April. She beat out Ken Stewart, Ronald Perez and Vincent Rasso for the assignment of replacing Sylvia Robles, who resigned from the council earlier this year. Sabino is now vying for election to the city council position that Robles held, the term for which will elapse in December, in the November 5 election herself. She is using the power of incumbency as a boost in that electoral effort.
A contingent within the Republican Central Committee, invoking the bylaws of both the party and the central committee itself which require the expulsion of any member who assists a non-Republican in an electoral effort in which a Republican is competing, want to bounce Sabino from the Central Committee. They want Sabino to be removed from the executive board immediately and they want a inquiry and proceeding, comparable to a trial that will include the presentation of evidence, to effectuate her ouster from the committee.
One of those is Nickel. He railed against Sabino and other weak-kneed Republicans who are surrendering to the Democrats.
The creation of the political action committees and independent expenditure committees the Republicans have been successfully using against the Democrats for years were legitimately formed and abided by the disclosure rules so that anyone could see who was donating the money being used for political campaigns, Nickel said. He contrasted that with the manner in which the newest crop of independent expenditure committees and political action committees are operating. They are hiding their sources of money, Nickel said.
“These are dark money PACS [political action committees],” Nickel said. “They are filing zero records [identifying donors] with the state. They don’t report anything.”
Nickel charged that some entities, including those supporting his opponent, Knaus, are operating through a string of political action committees or independent expenditure committees in which money is passed from one to another to another to another and finally to the candidate, with several of the intervening committees being unregistered, such that it is impossible for anyone other than the recipient to determine who is behind the support effort.
“They are using shell PACs to funnel money, which is coming from questionable sources,” he said. There was a recent state law passed which prohibits a city contractor from donating to a city council member. So what this has created is these shell PACS and the candidates using that as a way to skirt the rules so that money from these contractors can be funneled to them. The enforcement of the Political Reform Act is much more robust at the level of those running for federal or state legislative office, but local candidates are almost entirely ignored.”
Concurrently, Nickel said, the Republican Party is losing its way in the face of the overwhelming dominance of the Democrats in Sacramento, where both the upper and lower legislative houses – the State Senate and the Assembly – are packed with a supermajority of Democrats, virtually drowning uut the Republican legislative voice and every state constitutional office is held by a Democrat rather than a Republican.
“You can see it every day,” Nickel said. “The Republicans have given up and are willing to kowtow to the Democrats by sacrificing other Republicans. You had whole sectors of the private sector and the economy Republicans could look to for support, developers, the building industry, manufactured housing producers, realtors, who are now ow are ready to collaborate with the Democrats because they are in charge, who are willing to sacrifice Republicans on this alter of the Democratic domination by throwing their support behind Democrats and Republicans in Name Only. That is where this dark money is coming from, these former major donors to the Republicans who right now don’t want to be seen as bankrolling the Democrats. The Republican Party is very fractured and disintegrating. You still have the grassroots Republicans who are very much in the fight and are as committed to conservative values and principles as before, but the party itself, which was so strong on the local level, is being damaged and the ability of the Republicans to hold together with a majority on virtually every one of the county’s city councils is eroding as more and more we are becoming answerable to Democrats and their ideas.”
It was irresponsible spending by Democrats at the local level that led to the city of San Bernardino declaring bankruptcy in 2012, Nickel noted. He said the Republican resurgence on the San Bernardino City Council about ten years ago, which included him, had made it possible for the city to structure its way out of perpetual deficit spending. But the city is heading toward Democrats becoming the dominant force on the city council, which will result in a repeat of a very sad history, Nickel said.
“I am afraid of what will happen after this election,” Nickel said, and made a suble reference to Sabino. “I blame some of our Republican leadership in being complicit in what is happening to our city. We spent seven years clawing out of bankruptcy and finally getting back into a stable position financially. Now, what I am seeing is everything we managed to do being dismantled. We are in danger of seeing the pension funding system for our police and employees being depleted. I am baffled why our police officers’ union would endorse my opponent. Her alignment with Joe Baca and other Democrats in the end is going to devastating for our community. The programs the Democrats in Sacramento have and the way the Democrats locally will apply them are not good for our city. The more homeless people you bring in, the more drug-addicted that you put up with the more impoverished that you take in and the more you create a population of uneducated and untrained and unemployed, you are moving into a downward spiral you cannot get out of. We have insufficient revenue from property tax to sustain a city operation and we are therefore relying upon sales tax as the funding for our city. We need a safe and clean community to create the confidence that will bring commercial business operations back into San Bernardino. It is that commercial sector that will generate the sales tax we are to rely on. But with the policies of the Democrats, there will be no increase in property values and we are not creating an tmosphere conducive to sales tax growth either.”
As an employee of the county’s Workforce Development Division, Nickel said, “We cannot depend on the county, either. It is incapable of generating that sort of economic growth. There is no amount of public assistance that will turn the situation in San Bernardino around. San Bernardino needs self-reliant, independent entrepreneurial determination and effort, venture capitalism and risk taking, innovation, creating jobs and opportunities for people to get ahead instead of relying on government handouts and welfare, all the things the Republican Party stands for and which the Democrats know nothing about.”
Nickel decried the local Republicans who, he said, “have surrendered to the bubble of elite of Democrats in Sacramento. They are not committed to our principles. They are all bout money. They know the Democrats are running the state and especially places like San Bernardino into the ground, but they are happy getting the crumbs the Democrats in charge of the state are leving behind for them. San Bernardino is being shafted by the Democrats running Sacramento. We do not have people in the legislature who will advocate for San Bernardino. With people like Michelle Sabino who is actually something other than what she claims she is in the county central committee working on behalf of Democrats like Kim Knaus, we are being sold out to the point where we won’t have Republicans to fight for us on the lcoal level.
San Bernardino Democrats have not denied that Sabino is one of their undercover agents. Without gloating, some noted that she had managed to work her way into the confidence of Republican Central Committee Chairman Cothran and that Cothran has not seen fit, yet, to remove her as a member of the local GOP executive committee.
A political operative affiliated with James Ramos, arguably the most powerful Democrat at the state level within San Bernardino County, said that those like Nickel who complain about the Democrats having adopted creative means of using independent expenditure committees and political action committees to ensure the election of members of their party to local positions were “crybabies and bellyachers” who are merely voicing complaints about tactics that Republicans have been utilizing for decades being turned on them.

 

 

 

 

The legions of homeless being cast out of San Bernardino’ parks and removed from the city’s sidewalks and alleyways are tossing a Hail Mary pass they are hoping will stave off their removal from the county seat or their incarceration in the county jail.

That strategy, worked out by the equivalent of jailhouse lawyers – two of the more literate denizens of Perris Hill Park – calls for the destitute to dispense with the tents they have been using as makeshift quarters, in many cases for the last two, three, four or five years.

In 2015, the point-in-time count of the region’s subpopulation conducted by San Bernardino County, the county’s Department of Behavioral Health, the San Bernardino County Homeless Partnership, the Office of Homeless Services and Institute for Urban Initiatives, in conjunction with the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development indicated that there were 767 homeless in San Bernardino. The following year, that number was reduced to 564, and in 2017, the number dropped to 491. In 2018, however, the number began to creep back up, with those on the streets, sidewalks, parks, alleyways, in abandoned buildings, in the beds and on the shore of Lytle Creek and the Santa Ana River, ensconced in the landscaping near freeways and beneath freeway overpasses and under railway trestles having reached 646. In 2019, the number grew to 890 homeless and and in 2020 reached 1,056. In 2021, because of the COVID pandemic, the count was canceled. In 2022, there were 1,350 homeless counted in San Bernardino; in 2023 the county seat held 1,502 destitute; and in 2014, there were 1,417 total homeless in the city.

By 2017, many homeless were congregating by day at 44-acre Seccombe Lake Park, just east of downtown. Then, first one, then nearly a half dozen and soon a dozen or more and thereafter two or three score tested the city’s policy of closing the park at dusk, staying there overnight. Similarly, a handful of individuals were camping out overnight at Meadowbrook Park, in the downtown area adjacent to the 11-story San Bernardino Justice Center, as well as at Perris Hill Park, in the northeast quadrant of the city. When city officials did not act with sufficient alacrity to discourage the congregation of more and more overnight campers at Seccombe Lake Park, more and more people were attracted to that location. Soon, a sizeable contingent of the dispossessed were remaining there around the clock.

Over the years, there had been a range of efforts employed both by city officials and city residents to get them to leave San Bernardino altogether, ranging from having sheriff’s deputies and police officers beat them, using police dogs to tear through their belongings, seizing their bedding or tents or otherwise throwing their sleeping bags, tents, ground cover and padding, clothes or other possessions in the trash and assaulting and/or arresting them if they objected, transporting them to jail, specifically the 20-mile distant West Valley Detention Center upon their arrests and leaving them on their own to walk or find a ride back to San Bernardino, along with providing them with poisoned or contaminated food, all in an effort to drive them out or convince them to leave of their own volition.

Despite both these official and unofficial best efforts, the destitute proved resilient and off and on some do-gooders, including attorneys, intervened on their behalf, challenging the legality of the tactics being used against them.

When brought into court, the city found itself at a disadvantage because of the U.S. Constitution, certain laws and case law. In particular, the 1962 case of Robinson v. California and the 2018 case of Martin v. Boise made dealing with the homeless a thorny issue. In Robinson v. California, the Supreme Court held that the Eighth Amendment prohibits criminalization of a status, as opposed to criminalizing criminal acts, in striking down a California law that criminalized being addicted to narcotics. By extension, this applied to being homeless, such that it made applying traditional vagrancy laws difficult, problematic or even impossible. In this way, from that point on, at least until very recently, an individual could not be prosecuted for being homeless. In Martin v. Boise, the Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit ruled that city officials in Boise, Idaho, could not enforce an anti-camping ordinance whenever its homeless population exceeds the number of available beds in its homeless shelters. Since the Supreme Court declined to hear an appeal to this case in 2019, it became binding precedent within the Ninth Circuit. The Ninth Circuit includes the nine western states and all of the Pacific Islands.
Both Robinson v. California and Martin v. Boise had the practical effect of preventing government in general and local governments in particular from declaring open warfare on the homeless.
In San Bernardino County, government officials appeared to be divided on the issue of homelessness. Some showed empathy and compassion toward those who had fallen into such a state, and were against, generally, utilizing the power of the law to prohibit them from inhabiting public space or attempting to criminalize them. Other officials took a much harder line and favored a less sympathetic, even brutal approach in which subjecting the homeless to psychological duress or hurting them physically were considered justifiable tactics to protect “decent” people from having to interact with the unhoused and to maintain the quality of life that those who owned property or who could at least rent a roof over their heads were entitled to.

In an effort to reclaim Seccombe Lake Park from the 200 or more denizens of the shantytown that had come to exist there, the city again, in 2020, began efforts to enforce the night curfew and, when a good number of those living there left, the city shuttered that facility entirely to undertake what it termed a “deep cleaning,” one that was preparatory toward the park’s makeover, which was to include developing a portion of the park’s acreage into an affordable housing project.

When the city tried to further that creative approach toward making San Bernardino inhospitable to the homeless, it ran into a roadblock.

   In February 2023, the city council declared homelessness a local emergency, using that declaration as a dictum calling for relocating the homeless off of public property.

In May 2023, the city closed down Meadowbrook Park, which is adjacent to the 11-story courthouse, known as the San Bernardino Justice Center, in downtown San Bernardino. The shuttering of Meadowbrook Park was done, the city claimed, for maintenance. City officials told those living in the park that they would offer them some alternative but never did.

In reaction, the American Civil Liberties Union filed suit on behalf of the social action group SoCal Trash Army and two individuals – Lenka John and James Tyson – who were down and out and living in Meadowbrook Park and Noel Harner, who had left Meadowbrook Park and was living in Perris Hill Park.
In the suit, John, James Tyson and Noel Harner alleged the city violated their constitutional rights and destroyed or jettisoned their personal property, including medicine, vital documents medical equipment and tents. Harner, who is confined to a wheelchair, maintained in the suit that he was given a one-week voucher to stay at a motel upon being kicked out of Perris Hill Park, but was given no assistance in transiting to the motel or conveying his belongings there.
In January of this year, Federal Judge Terry Hatter Jr. issued a preliminary injunction preventing the City of San Bernardino from removing unsheltered people living in its parks and on the city’s sidewalks and public area. Judge Hatter’s ruling was made
In his ruling, Judge Hatter made a finding that the city discarded and/or destroyed the displaced homeless residents’ belongings, did not accommodate their needs and “likely” engaged in a violation of their constitutional rights as well as those under the Americans with Disabilities Act.
Judge Hatter barred the city from removing or displacing unhoused residents and their belongings pending further judicial review of the matter. He said the court would consider vacating the order if the city could formulate a binding policy by which it replaces homeless encampments with housing options for those to be displaced.

The atmosphere under which Judge Hatter’s decision was made underwent a radical change this summer, however.

On June 28, 2024, The U.S. Supreme Court entered a ruling in the case of City of Grants Pass v. Johnson, which pretty much erased the protections under the law that the homeless enjoyed which stemmed from both the Martin v Boise or the Robinson v. California.
In 2013, the Grants Pass City Council, enacted a series of anti-camping, anti-sleeping, and parking exclusion ordinances, which were augmented with civil fines ranging from $295 to $537.60 if unpaid, along with imposing criminal penalties of trespassing on repeat violators who continued to reside on public land. The Oregon Law Center filed suit against Grants Pass on behalf of three homeless individuals in the U.S. District Court in Oregon, challenging the ordinances. The district court and The Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, relying on Martin v. Boise, rejected the city government’s assertion it its defense of its ordinances preventing the city from enforcing its anti-camping ordinance against homeless people. The U.S. Supreme Court took up a review of the Ninth Circuit ruling, finding, ultimately, the punishments of fines, temporary bans from entering public property, and one-month jail sentences were neither cruel nor unusual; that the Grants Pass’s anti-camping ordinances were neutrally applied against both the homeless and those who are not homeless; that it was not established that the homeless had no place other than parks or parking lots in which to sleep; that local and state officials and courts are free to determine whether the homeless by violating anti-camping were conscious of their guilt by violating anti-camping ordinances and that remedies to the homeless issue throughout the United States are too complex to be addressed by unelected members of the federal judiciary. The upshot was that the Supreme Court held that local governments can ban the homeless from public areas.
Shortly thereafter, Governor Gavin Newsom, during whose tenure as governor the state, between 2019 and 2021 spent $9.6 billion trying to alleviate homelessness and from 2020 onward spent another $3.7 billion on Project Homekey, a plan to fund local governments in their efforts to combat homelessness, grew acutely frustrated and impatient with the lack of progress in solving the homelessness crisis. He was going to cut off any further state homeless program funding to cities which had not shut down encampments and moved those in them to indoor shelters.
Within a fortnight, San Bernardino city officials who for years had been themselves frustrated in being unable to clear the homeless out of both high-profile and low-profile public places, felt as if the constraints on dealing with the city’s homeless population had been removed.
The formality of dealing with Judge Hatter’s ruling remained, but in relatively short order, on August 2, after discussion between the city and the American Civil Liberties Union, a joint stipulation to dismiss the case brought by SoCal Trash Army, John, Tyson and Harner was filed. On September 25 Judge Hatter granted that motion for dismissal.
On Wednesday, October 2, at a press conference held at the San Bernardino City Hall on Wednesday, before a large gathering of media, local officials, and community members, San Bernardino Mayor Helen Tran, flanked by members of the city council said, “The lifting of the injunction gives us options for addressing unhoused individuals and their property compassionately as we clean up our parks.”
“We have been able to codify and clarify many of our encampment cleanup policies to protect our homeless, their belongings, as well as city staff and contractors,” said San Bernardino Acting City Manager Rochelle Clayton.
“The lifting of the injunction gives us the opportunity to clean up our parks,” said Councilman Fred Shorett.

While the City of San Bernardino has committed nearly $60 million in local, state, federal, and grant funding to address homelessness, including the construction of two full service, comprehensive homeless housing facilities, the creation of a homeless outreach team, and funds for hotel vouchers to be issued to augment local shelters while the new facilities are being built, those with no place to call home in San Bernardino see the writing on the wall. The city now has the leverage to evict them. And until a 140-bed interim housing facility the city is building at 1354 G Street in partnership with the nonprofits Lutheran Social Services of Southern California and Dignity Moves is completed in December, they will not be able to move there.

Similarly, a new homeless navigation center at a former school site at 796 Sixth Street which the city is beginning preparations for will not come online for another 12 to 13 months.

Thus, it seems, the homeless will need to get gone and get gone soon.

Two of those who subsist at Perris Hill Park nevertheless believe that the homeless population there can prolong the delay in its exodus by a stratagem hatched elsewhere, in San Francisco, which has its own homeless challenges. There, where Newsom was once mayor, those living in that city’s parks and public spaces are being similarly pressured to get out. Some of those people, however, sought to slide out from under the directive to leave by simply de-erecting their tents, sleeping now on the open ground. This means, they assert, they are not camping. Given that the Grants Pass decision pertains to “encampments” and the governor’s directive was to break up “encampments,” the voluntary discontinuation of the pitching of tents by those who can now say they are simply

sleeping in the parks offers a means – actual or rhetorical – for the homeless to maintain they are complying with the law and the governor’s mandate.

In recent days, several of those yet hanging on to their living space in Perris Hill Park have acceded to the direction of their fellow park residents that they dispense with the tents.

Whether this approach, dreamt up, after all, by what are tantamount to jailhouse lawyers, will work is yet to be determined.

City officials have indicated that the homeless will be leaving very soon, whether they are spending the night inside a tent or under the stars.

.
“The city expects to resume encampment cleanups in the coming weeks,” San Bernardino Spokesman Jeff Kraus said.

DA Reported To Be Probing Gaudin’s Residency Vis-à-Vis Victorville Council Run

By M.R. Wainwright
Tiffany Gaudin’s campaign for Victorville City Council is facing some strong headwinds in the face of accusations that she misrepresented her residency status in order to qualify for her candidacy in that city’s District 1 council race.
There are no incumbents involved in the Victorville District 1 contest. In addition to Gaudin, Leyda Fernandez, Valentin Godina , and Robert Andrew Lucero are seeking the post in the November 5 balloting.
In her campaign literature and on her electioneering website, Gaudin presents herself as a committed, long-time resident of Victorville. The facts tell a different story, one which some of her opponents and some Victorville residents say involves her in manipulation, dishonesty, and a calculated attempt to mislead the voters.
There is indication that Gaudin doesn’t live in Victorville. She re-registered to vote using a Victorville address on July 13, 2024, the same day she pulled her candidacy papers. Before that, she was registered at what is said by multiple individuals to be her true residence in Apple Valley, where her husband, Justin Gaudin, is still registered. Despite her claims of deep ties to Victorville, neighbors in Apple Valley have confirmed that nothing has changed, and they continue to see Tiffany around the neighborhood regularly. This has given rise to the allegation that the Gaudins haven’t uprooted their lives for Victorville; instead, it is the observation of some that they are attempting to game the system by falsifying residency to enable Tiffany Gaudin to run for office.
If the basis for Gaudin’s claim of Victorville residency is false, what has occurred goes beyond being a minor technicality. Such a violation of the public trust would involve Gaudin asking the people of Victorville to believe she’s one of them when, in reality, she’s living in another city. Her willingness to make such a representation about where she lives would raise further questions about what other issues she might be deceiving the public about.
Such a misrepresentation, if actual, would potentially carry with it criminal implications. There is precedent in San Bernardino County for prosecutions relating to a candidate making a false claim of residency.
The most celebrated case relating to the residency of a San Bernardino County elected official in the last half century was that of Fontana City Treasurer Ron Hibble, who was elected to that post in November 1986. The San Bernardino County District Attorney’s Office, then headed by District Attorney Dennis Kottmeier, charged Hibble with four felony charges of perjury and election fraud based upon the contention that he lied about his city of residence. At trial before Judge Robert Krug, Deputy District Attorney Karen Ferraro established that Hibble regularly spent the night at the Grand Terrace home of his girlfriend, Judith McBride, that he had rented out his Fontana residence to a tenant and that he had prevaricated about living in the garage of that home.
Judge Krug made several rulings in the case that were crucial to the outcome, one of those being that the case boiled down to not where Hibble lived on a constant day-to-day basis but whether he met the State of California’s criteria relating to what constitutes an individual’s legal domicile, and whether Hibble had met that bar when he ran for office and voted in 1986. Making a finding that the utilities at the Fontana home were in Hibble’s name and that his driver license showed the Fontana home’s address, Krug ruled there was no evidence that Hibble’s intent was to move to Grand Terrace permanently, and that Hibble was not paying rent to McBride. Hibble was acquitted.
Gaudin’s case differs from Hibble’s in that it was established that before being elected, Hibble had at one point actually resided in the home he claimed to have lived in. That issue is not as clearly cut in the Gaudin matter.
Even if Gaudin’s case does not fall into the realm of criminal law, a misrepresentation about her actual residency is likely to result, in the event of her victory in November, in her not being able to be seated as the District 1 councilwoman or being subjected to an examination in which she might end up being removed from office.
Such was the case in 2021, when the Victorville City Council, then composed of members elected not by district but at large, voted to remove the late Rita Ramirez-Dean from office.
Ramirez-Dean, originally elected to the council in 2018, lived in Victorville at that time. In December 2019, however, she severely injuring and bruised left foot in a fall, requiring hospitalization. The subsurface bruising transformed into a gangrenous patch, which in Janaury 2020 had to be cut out, thereafter leading to the amputation of some toes, then her foot and then her lower leg. With the advent of the COVID pandemic and her residency in a recovery hospital, her son, concerned over her potential exposure to the Coronavirus, removed her to the family home in Joshua Tree to facilitate her recovery.
When Ramirez-Dean’s recovery became extended, despite her participating in the council meetings remotely, her council colleagues in March 2021 voted, in a 3-to-2 vote, to remove her from office on the grounds that she was no longer living in Victorville.
After the May 2018 death of then-Hesperia Mayor Russ Blewett, Jeremiah Brosowske wangled an appointment to the Hesperia City Council as his replacement in July of that year, despite his residency in Rancho Cucamonga. Brosowske was able to plausibly maintain he lived in Hesperia by asserting that he was residing at the home of former Hesperia Mayor/Councilman Bill Jensen. Jensen, who was in favor of Brosowske’s appointment, backed him in his claim of Hesperia residency. Once on the council, Brosowske subsequently rented an apartment unit at 16784 Sultana Street in Hesperia within the Sultana Mulberry Apartment Complex in the city’s Fourth District in Hesperia and filed to run for election in the November 2018 election. He was successful in that effort.
Subsequently, however, he had a falling out with Jensen, who began speaking out publicly, saying Brosowske had not lived at his home nor in Hesperia at all at the time he was appointed to the council. This led to a further examination by others, and ultimately by the city itself, into what were Brosowske’s ten-current living arrangements. Though he had rented the apartment unit on Sultana Street, constant monitoring of that location by a private investigator established he was not living there, and further surveillance established he was living with his girlfriend in Rancho Cucamonga. The city council took action, in a 3-to-2 vote, in September 2019 to remove him from office.
According to records and nearby residents, Gaudin is living at 15480 Navajo Road in Apple Valley. In her filing for her city council candidacy, Gaudin claims to be residing in a domicile at 16761 Kayuga Street in Victorville. The Kayuga Street home is owned by Daniel Brown and Fleta Joyce Brown.
In a discussion with a Victorville resident on October 5 during Victorville’s Fall Festival, Gaudin said she had moved to Victorville where she is renting a home so for the express purpose of being able to run for the city council.
The Sentinel is now informed that the district attorney’s office is looking into Gaudin’s actual residency.
Reportedly, the union representing San Bernardino County sheriff’s deputies – the Safety Employees Benefit Association (SEBA) – which initially endorse her, is now reconsidering its support in light of the revelations about the residency questions surrounding her.
Gaudin claims she and her family are longtime residents of Victorville, committed to the community.
Neither Tiffany Gaudin nor her husband voted in any local elections since the 2021 recall election.
The Sentinel’s inquiry of Gaudin about her actual residency, sent to her in an email provided as the means of contact on the website for her candidacy, did not garner a response by press time.

Democrat Knaus Applying Republican Playbook Scheme

At long last a Democrat vying for local office appears to be on the brink of doing what San Bernardino County’s down home Republican politicians have been doing for a generation or longer: utilizing the money provided by self-interested donors to buy her way into office in a trade-off of her future decision-making authority for the wherewithal to capture the office she is seeking.
Kim Knaus is a political neophyte who has come, essentially, out of nowhere to become the frontrunner in the race for San Bernardino Fifth Ward Council position. Her opponent is Henry Nickel, a two-term former councilman who was upset in his bid for reelection in 2020. In March, Nickel, who unsuccessfully vied for mayor in a seven-candidate primary race in 2022, made an even more determined effort at a comeback in this year’s Fifth Ward contest, challenging the man who beat him four years ago, incumbent Ben Reynoso. Also in the March primary race was Knaus; another former Fifth Ward Councilman, Chas Kelley; and Rose Ward. Once the votes were counted, Ward, with 162 or 4.18 percent of the total 3,878 votes cast; Kelley with 490 votes or 12.64 percent; and Reynoso, with 812 votes or 20.94 percent, were also-rans, finishing, respectively, fifth, fourth and third. In San Bernardino, a candidate vying for municipal office who captures a majority of the vote – at least 50 percent plus at least one additional vote – is declared the winner. If, in a contest involving more than two candidates, no competitor captures a majority of the vote, the two hopefuls with the most votes face each other in a second contest, held in that year’s general election. Nickel and Knaus, as the two top vote-getters in March, qualified for the November run-off. While Nickel had avenged his 2020 loss to Reynoso, finishing second, with 974 votes or 25.12 percent, he was bettered, by a substantial margin, by Knaus, who garnered 1,440 votes or 37.13 percent.
On the basis of Knaus’s better than 7-to-5 outpolling ratio over Nickel in the March primary alone, by the metrics applied by most political handicappers, she would appear to be the favorite going into the November race.
There are a few peculiarities in San Bernardino’s Fifth Ward and the general trend in politics throughout San Bernardino County, however, that might have evened the odds in the race.

Nickel, for starters, is a far more experienced campaigner. In addition to the two previous races in the Fifth Ward that he won and the one that he lost, he also ran for mayor and he has twice vied, albeit unsuccessfully, for the California Assembly twice.

Moreover, Nickel is a Republican, a distinction which in San Bernardino County has for decades – indeed, for more than half of a century – represented an advantage, generally, over Democrats such as Knaus. Since the mid-1960s, San Bernardino County has been a Republican County. That was the case six decades ago, at which point registered Republicans simply outnumbered registered Democrats, and it has continued to be the case since 2009, when the number of registered Democrats eclipsed the number of registered Republicans.

While throughout the Golden State overall the Democrats since the 1990s have been in ascendancy such that three out of the last five governors were Democrats and for two decades running the lieutenant governor, attorney general, secretary of state, state superintendent of schools, insurance commissioner, controller and state treasure positions have been held overwhelmingly by Democrats, and the Democrats as well for nearly a decade have enjoyed supermajorities in both houses of the state legislature, there are five pockets throughout the state that remain as Republican bastions. One of those is San Bernardino County. In San Bernardino County, the local Republican and local Democrat parties are controlled by their respective central committees. The central committees are composed of members that are elected every four years in voting held during the presidential primary election, with Democrats voting for their central committee members based upon residency within the Assembly Districts in the county and the Republicans voting for their central committee members based upon residency within the county’s five supervisorial districts. In addition, both central committees have what are refereed to as ex-officio members, those being ones who are not elected to the central committee directly but rather those members of the respective parties who are elected to vie for state legislative office. Thus, a Republican who ran for California State Senate or the Assembly, whether he or she was successful or not, would be an ex-officio member of the Republican Central Committee for a term of, respectively, four or two years, corresponding to the length of state senate and assembly terms. Likewise, the Democrat candidates for the State Senate or the Assembly would also be honored with membership in their county central committee based upon their candidacies for the state legislature.

Both the Republican Central Committee and the Democrat Central Committee are devoted to ensuring the success of the members of their respective parties during elections, those held during the gubernatorial primaries in June in California and presidential primaries in March of leap years and both the gubernatorial and presidential general elections held in in November.

By law and observed tradition in California, federal legislative, state legislative and state constitutional offices such as governor, lieutenant governor, attorney general and so forth are partisan, meaning political parties such as Democrats, Republicans and a whole host of others – American Independent, Green, Libertarian, Peace & Freedom and other even more obscure parties – can hold elections during the primary restricted to just their party members to nominate members of their party to be candidates for state and federal office in the November election. On the ballot, those running for these offices are identified in terms of their party. By law and mostly observed tradition in California, local governmental offices – such as county positions such as supervisor, sheriff, district attorney, treasurer or assessor and city posts such as mayor or council member – are nonpartisan. In this way, those running for local office are not identified as members of any party, even though most have a party affiliation. Thus, in most counties in California, party affiliation is not, or is supposed to not be, a defining issue in local elections. In San Bernardino County, however, local elections are shot through-and-through with partisan political implication.

Historically, or at least over the last 50 to 60 years, the San Bernardino County Republican Central Committee, with only the rarest of exceptions, has demonstrated itself to be much more energetic, focused, cohesive, creative, dynamic, efficient and effective than the San Bernardino County Democratic Central Committee.

San Bernardino County Republicans, as a rule in virtually every election cycle going back to the beginning of the latter third of the Twentieth Century, have raise more funds to support Republican candidates than San Bernardino Democrats have raised to support Democrats running for office. What is more, once the Republicans have had that money in hand, they have made a far more consistent practice than their Democrat counterparts in applying that money efficiently by conducting polls to ascertain the prevailing attitudes of voters, carrying out opposition research, formulating a message or series of messages and then executing on a campaign using billboards, television ads, radio spots, handbills, mailers and phone banks to promote their party’s candidates and producing attack ads or “hit pieces” to trash the reputations of their Democratic opponents.

Further, the San Bernardino County Democratic Central Committee, to the extent that it has participated in fundraising and used whatever money it has obtained to promote Democrats seeking office, it has generally drawn the line at providing that support to Democrats seeking legislative positions, either in the U.S. Congress or the State Senate or the Assembly. Rarely, meaning virtually never, has the San Bernardino County Democratic Central Committee involved itself in promoting the candidacies of members of the board of supervisors or district attorney or sheriff or assessor or mayor or council member or school board member or water board member. The Republican Central Committee, however, has more than held its own in matching or exceeding the Democrats while pushing the candidacies of those running for Congress or the state legislature. At the same time the San Bernardino County Republican Central Committee has gone further, substantially further, in running or assisting campaigns of Republicans seeking county or municipal or local agency offices, including candidates for school board or water board or fire board. While some coordination of resources at a grace roots level takes place in which Democrats help Democrats in trying to get elected, those efforts are not ones that involve the Democratic Central Committee and its resources and machinery.

An indicator of Republicans’ ability to to hitch up all of its horses to the same side of the wagon to have them pull in unison and in the same direction and the comparative dysfunction of the local Democratic Party can be seen in looking at the county’s overall numbers in terms of voter registration and then contrasting that with who the holders of political offices in San Bernardino County are.

Over the entirety of San Bernardino County and its 1,197,840 registered voters, those who self-affiliate with the Democratic Party, 475,955 or 39.7 percent, convincingly outnumber registered Republicans, at 363,984 or 30.4 percent. Still, engaged Republicans outhustle engaged Democrats and do a far better job of convincing their less active party colleagues to get out and vote than do their Democrat rivals. Of the five positions on the San Bernardino County Board of Supervisors, four are held by Republicans. On the 22 city and two town councils among the 24 incorporated municipalities in San Bernardino County, 17 have more Republican members than Democrats. Eighteen of the county’s 24 mayors are Republicans. While the assembly members and state senators representing San Bernardino County in the California legislature and the members of Congress representing San Bernardino County in Washington, D.C. are evenly divided between Democrats and Republicans, that is because several of those districts overlap into Los Angeles, Orange or Riverside counties, where the Democrats are more dominant. In San Bernardino County, the lion’s share of the votes for state and federal lawmakers go to Republicans. All of this is despite the clear advantage in sheer numbers the Democrats have over Republicans in San Bernardino County terms of registered voters.

In San Bernardino’s Fifth Ward, Democrats hold a decided advantage over Republicans in terms of sheer numbers. Of the ward’s 17,555 registered voters 7,785 or 44.3 percent are Democrats, a number which dwarfs the district’s 4,614 Republicans, who represent just over a quarter, some 26.3 percent, of the jurisdiction’s voters. Nevertheless, Democratic voter turnout in the Fifth Ward lags significantly behind that of Republicans. In the 2020 election, 87.36 percent of the Republicans registered to vote in Ward 5 voted. In the same election, 53.47 percent of the Democrats in Ward 5 eligible to vote voted. And that turnout was an anomaly over what normally occurs in Ward 5. Reynoso, with 1,295 votes out of 5,083 cast in the six-candidate March 2020 Primary Race in Ward 5, trailed significantly behind Nickel and his 1,802 votes, at that time, placing second with 25.48 percent of the vote to the incumbent’s 35.45 percent. Reynoso, a young and upcoming political activist and relatively recent college graduate, utilized a strategy of registering college students living on campus or near campus at Cal State San Bernardino, which lies within the Fifth Ward, to make up for the difference between him and his opponent in the March 2020 Primary Race and overcome Nickel in the November 2020 General Election. This artificially boosted the Democratic turnout in that election.

Accordingly,

Newport Beach Developer Intimidating Critics Into Silence About High-Density Chino Project

The bust-up of the Chino Agricultural Preserve and the impact the takeover of more than 88 percent of that property by the cities of Chino and Ontario is having was once again thrown into stark relief as the full parameters of a development project on ten acres of the former preserve property located in Chino is being publicly previewed.
In 1968, after San Bernardino County the previous year designated a significant portion of the Chino Valley for continuing agricultural use, the Chino Agricultural Preserve was formed under the auspices of California’s Williamson Act — a 1965 law that was intended to preserve California farmland and to serve as a hedge against urban sprawl. The law granted substantial tax breaks to property owners agreeing to restrict their land to agricultural uses for at least 10 years. By 1970, the Chino Valley was the source for most of Southern California’s milk as well as a major supplier of cheese for a much larger geographical area.
At its peak, the 17,000-acre preserve was host to just under 400 dairies and 400,000 cows. In 1976, the preserve was responsible of $800 million in dairy production.
The preserve continued as a thriving dairyland oasis in the midst of rapidly urbanizing Southern California until increasing land values and the relatively greater profitability of selling the land for development compared to continuing to use it for agricultural production induced more and more of the dairy owners to sell their land and move their herds and operations to Tulare and Merced counties.
While many dairymen wanted to continue their operations in place, by the late 1990s, enough of their colleagues in the dairy industry wanted out that the demise of the preserve was inevitable.
Many in Chino were pushing for Chino to lay claim to the entirety of the 15,200 acres that were yet contained within the preserve at that time. Instead, in 1999, Ontario annexed the lion’s share of the land – 8,200 acres – while Chino obtained 5,300 acres and Chino Hills took the remaining 1,700 acres.
The development of the property, much of it wide open as the dairies consisted primarily of pastureland with some barns and both traditional and more modern milling facilities, proceeded at a relatively modest pace over the next two decades, slowed somewhat during the economic downturn of 2007-to-2013.
In recent years the pace of development has picked up somewhat, with most of the land being transitioned into residences, primarily single-family homes.
Those developments include The Preserve, extending over 5,226 acres in southeast Chino, which was master developed by the Lewis Group of Companies, formerly known as Lewis Homes. Lewis, while no longer in the business of constructing home on its own, is using companies such Lennar, KB Homes and Century Communities to construct 8,100 homes and apartments on 1,155 acres, preserving for the time being other acreage as open space and utilizing other land for schools, parks, recreation centers and commercial development.
For its part, Ontario has pushed ahead with the development of Ontario Ranch, a mostly residential development with some commercial components.
Ontario also, in March 2022, gave approval to the South Ontario Logistics Center Specific Plan, which cleared the way for the development of 219.39 acres bordered by Eucalyptus Avenue to the north, Merrill Avenue to the south, the future extension of Campus Avenue to the west and Grove Avenue to the east. The land in question was owned primarily by the heirs to the dairies owned by the late Pete Borba. That property, while previously zoned to accommodate low- and medium-density residential homes and commercial centers or a large business park, was reevaluated by the City of Ontario at the request of the Borba family. Instead of what had been approved previously, Ontario adopted an amendment to its general plan which provided for a change in zoning on the property, modifying the land use element of the plan, allowing for the conversion of 71.58 percent of the 219 acres into what is primarily industrial uses, taking advantage of the availability of electricity from the existing power lines paralleling Edison Avenue.
On the Chino side of the divide, two years ago, Newport Beach-based Orbis Real Estate Partners acquired the 435,600 square foot parcel – ten acres – at the corner of South Euclid Avenue and Schaefer Avenue from Margaret Zivelonghi for $12,100,000, translating to a cost of $27.78 per square foot or $1.21 million per acre. While the vast majority of those living in the area were not aware of the transaction, who was involved in it and the sale’s implication, those who were more informed and sophisticated with regard to real estate and land development issues recognized that the price paid and other considerations such as zoning and pressure the State of California through its Department of Housing and Community Development is putting on cities throughout California to facilitate the creation of low income housing to ease the perceived housing crisis in the Golden State recognized that the property sooner rather than later was going to be developed to a greater degree of intensity than had other property in the general vicinity and within the agricultural preserve in general.
Residents living in proximity to the Euclid/Schaefer intersection have now been informed that Orbis, having formed a limited liability company, Orbis Schaefer, is pursuing the development of a four-story 273-unit apartment complex, accompanied by a five-story, 500 stall parking garage, 143,000 square-foot self-storage facility, and 18,600 square feet of retail space with 128 parking stalls contained entirely on the 10-acre site. At least 14 and as many as 22 of the units will rent in the affordable range, according to Orbis Schaefer.
Nearby residents are not pleased. The apartment complex will qualify as the densest development yet in the former agricultural preserve. While there are some apartments in Lewis’s Preserve development, they are leavened by the more numerous single-family homes that surround them. Chino faced a crowd of residents shouting questions over one another at a neighborhood meeting on Wednesday evening.
Warren Morelion, who is variously described as the City of Chino’s senior planner and as its development services director, is the focus of considerable anger vectored from the area’s residents, who feel he should not have allowed Orbis Schaefer to get tentative staff approval for undertaking. The density of the project exceeds by a factor of at least three any other residential use in Chino’s share of the former agricultural preserve, residents have asserted.
Morelion’s defense appears to be that the California Department of Housing and Community Development, in carrying out its survey of how many dwelling units should be built, or at least should be allowed to be built, in cities throughout the state in what is termed the Regional Housing Needs Assessment program, has determined that in the eight year period that began in 2021, Chino should have standards to allow for the construction of 6,961 dwelling units, of which 2,106 should be affordable to very low income renters and 1,281 should be affordable to low income renters.
By allowing Orbis Schaefer to proceed with the project, Chino is showing the state it is making a good faith effort to meet the state’s Regional Housing Needs Assessment mandate, according to Morelion.
That’s just right, according to Jonathan E. Shardlow, a land use attorney of the law firm of Allen Matkins, which is representing Orbis Schaefer. Shardlow said Chin residents have no right to complain about the intensified density that is to take place in the Euclid Schaefer project, given that the City of Chino has a mixed-use overlay zone within its housing element, which Chino residents voted on and approved some years back. The former Zivelonghi property, by being developed to incorporate both apartments and retail uses will qualify as a mixed-use project, according to Shardlow. According to Shardlow, a mixed-use project is beyond reproach.
With a legal pit bull like Shardlow in Orbis Schaefer’s corner, people are afraid to speak out and criticize the city, its planning division, its land use decision-makers, its development services department, the project or Orbis Schaefer, since doing so might result in Shardlow, on behalf of Orbis Schaefer, filing a tortious interference lawsuit against any such complainants. A tortious interference suit would argue, essentially, that anyone getting in the way of the project would be interfering with Orbis Schaefer’s right to make a profit on its $12,200,000 investment in the property.
Morelion, who simply wants the project to be approved and everyone to shut up about it, has accused local residents of creating “chaos” by their protests relating to the proposal.
Grant Ross, one of the founders of Orbis Real Estate Partners, has stared down the opposition to the Orbis’s Chino venture, and people have the sense that he means business when he brings in a litigator such as Shardlow to intimidate the crowds whenever a community meeting or hearing about the project takes place.
A few intrepid people have spoken up, although they do not want their names used.
Some have said that if the city is going to let Orbis construct 273 units on that confined of a piece of ground and the justification for doing so is the state’s housing mandate, then all of them should be rented at affordable rates.
Another said that if the city is going to allow Orbis to build to four stories in height to achieve 273 units where it is predictable that there will be, on average at least two, and more likely three vehicles per unit, and a commercial center that will need to meet the parking needs of its customers, then Orbis should be required to provide parking structures to accommodate at least 1,000 cars. Another said those structures should be built underground.
While saying they wanted to stir up opposition to the project, residents said they were reluctant to do so openly and they warned the Sentinel that by writing anything about the project, unless the newspaper gave the project a glowing endorsement, it would be running a risk of being sued.
“This guy Ross and his henchman Shardlow are thugs,” one said.
The planning commission will consider the project in November or December, at which time it is anticipated its members – Jimmy Alexandris, Lissa Fraga, Brandon Blanchard, Kevin Cisneros, Steve Lewis, Vincent Lopez and Lawrence Vieira – will send a recommendation to the city council that the project be approved.
Mark Gutglueck