Tony the workhorse
This paper
depends on its readers and financial supporters, but above all it
depends on people who hold down demanding full-time jobs and yet
still find time to do little things, like writing huge chunks of
High Country News. Over the years, reporter Tony Davis has been
first among this group of writers, dependably providing us with
stories about the Central Arizona Project, public-land struggles,
land development, dried-up Southwestern rivers and bridges across
the Rio Grande.
This fortnight, he comes through
again, describing how Tucson is becoming a version of Phoenix,
which is a version of Los Angeles. He also writes an obituary of
former Arizona Rep. Morris K. Udall. The obituary is "just the
facts," but Tony also has the following memories of
Mo:
"If any single individual
can be credited with inspiring my interest in the environment, it
is Morris Udall. I was 24 and working graveyard shift on the
rewrite desk at the Philadelphia Bulletin when he ran for president
in 1976. I was impressed that someone with an interest in our
quality of life, and who wasn't caught up in the Cold War debate,
was a potential candidate. Here was a mainstream Democrat talking
about breaking up the big oil
companies.
"It made me think
there was hope for American politics, even though he was to lose
seven primaries to a vapid peanut farmer from Georgia who was all
platitudes. I have to laugh about the fact that right after Jimmy
Carter was elected, he tried to kill 17 Western water projects. One
of his major congressional opponents was idealist Mo Udall, who
worked hard to save the watery pork for Arizona and several other
states. I didn't suddenly decide that Udall was a bad man, but I
learned that all politicians must
compromise.
"My second memory
of him comes from 1980, when the Democrats got stomped in the
congressional and presidential elections. His sorrow came over
clearly during the telephone interview. He immediately realized the
election wasn't a fluke, and he talked about how Democrats were
going to have to adjust their ideals a bit to match political
realities, even as he proclaimed: "I'm a liberal." More than
anything, I remember how dignified he sounded, compared to the
shrill whining coming from others of his political stripe."
A real Western
newspaper
The most casual reader of High Country
News knows this paper believes in rules: grazing rules, clean-air
rules, mining rules and rules that regulate how rules are to be
promulgated. So we were chagrined to learn that we have been in
violation of a Colorado rule since 1992, when our 125,000-BTU
boiler should have been first inspected.
When
the inspector, a garrulous fellow named Randall Austin, finally
happened by, we learned that not only had we neglected the
paperwork, but we have also been heating the building with a boiler
that lacks a backup safety device. Austin told us, vividly, that
hot water heaters have the explosive potential of pounds of
nitroglycerin.
The penalty for seven years of
violations is $7,000 and seven years in jail. Staff is now
discussing, shrilly, who should serve the time, whether we can each
do a year, whether we can find interns interested in doing jail
time for a nonprofit so staff can continue with its important work
and, most appealing to staff, whether it is the board president,
attorney Tom France of Missoula, Mont., who is really
responsible.
This is not the first time the
newspaper has run afoul of regulations. Last year, we painted the
paper's name on our glass front door without getting a permit.
Then, in an act of blatant recidivism, we ordered a large metal
sign from Arizona without determining if it was smaller than the 50
square feet of signage regulations allow.
We're
embarrassed, of course, to be hypocritical. But we're also quietly
proud that we've become instinctually Western, flouting authority
without even thinking about it. Living in the West has allowed
freedom, or at least anarchy, to seep into our
bones.
A great
loss
We were saddened to hear of the death of
Gary Vinyard, 49, a biologist at the University of Nevada, Reno,
who played a critical role in the return of Lahontan cutthroat
trout to their native Truckee River. Lee Weber, chairman of the
biology department, said of Vinyard, "He is irreplaceable. He was a
world-recognized expert on the Great Basin. He knew absolutely
everything about the area."
Magnificent flackery
Reader Kevin Bailey of Fort
Collins, Colo., who has never skied at Vail, received a "Dear
Valued Guest" letter in the wake of the October fires. He was most
taken by the following
paragraph:
"Perhaps the most
important news of all is that the fire was contained (sic) to
man-made structures. It did not burn any trees, and therefore did
not blemish our magnificent forested mountains."
Water for life
To ring in
the new year, subscriber Greg Hobbs of Denver, a follower of water
matters, sent us the following poem:
Whatever water touches,
Sings. So leave a pocket of water
For the
tadpole to become the frog
And delight the
child,
Who passing with his
parents
Through the tall grass hears a
voice
Saying what his-her-mother-father
said
The frog would be
saying:
"Rivet,
Rivet!!'
Whatever water
touches,
Sings. So leave and let flow a
pocket
Of water to the child and the
parents,
Whether city or farm be his or her
lily
Pad. It's the nature of water to
dwell
In the living, whether or
not
We are listening.
Circulation is up
HCN's paid
circulation rose 3.8 percent last year, from 18,705 to 19,414. The
paper's Web site, its Writers on the Range op-ed syndicate,
magazine advertisements and the new Radio High Country News all
helped, but the mainstay was again several hundred thousand direct
mail letters sent out by circulation manager Gretchen Nicholoff and
her staff.
As penance, we considered printing a
letter from Al and Betty Schneider, packed with hints for getting
your name off mailing lists. But it's too long. So as partial
penance, we suggest you contact the Schneiders by e-mail
(albetty@fone.net) or telephone (970/882-4647) for a copy of the
letter. Some of the advice is so draconian (e.g., don't give the
post office a forwarding address when you move) that no one will
ever get in touch with you again.
A fire
It's a long way from
Paonia to Colorado Springs or Pueblo, and so we usually aim to stop
in Salida, both to visit with writers Ed and Martha Quillen and to
eat at the First Street Cafe, in downtown Salida, a long way off
the highway strip. But we won't be doing that again until March,
when the cafe, which suffered a serious fire,
reopens.
Here for the winter
After living for eight months in southwestern Colorado, new intern
Rebecca Clarren feels almost dry. Born and raised under Seattle's
stormy skies, she spent her junior year of college tramping through
New Zealand's rainforests. After graduating from Massachusetts'
Smith College with a degree in anthropology, she worked for five
months in Alaska's Denali National Park, putting her rain gear to
the test. It was last year that Rebecca found the
sun.
While driving her packed car to a job in
Denver last April, where she intended to write for a small
newspaper's entertainment section, she stopped in Durango, Colo.
She never managed to leave. Rebecca freelanced for Durango's
bimonthly newspaper, writing feature articles about local
characters and upcoming events. She also worked at a snowboard shop
and waited tables to make rent. Rebecca says she is happy to spend
the winter in Paonia, where she won't have to ask anyone what kind
of salad dressing they want with their salad, or if they take
ketchup or mustard with their hamburger.
New
intern Juniper Davis takes a minute to count how many times she has
packed her boxes in the past 12 months and comes back with a grand
total of nine. "I have been feeling too transient these past
months," says Juniper, "so I'm excited to settle down to life in
Paonia for a while." Studying international environmental policy
and salsa dancing in Costa Rica was the highlight of life in a long
list of temporary locations, including Colorado, Montana, Canada
and Mexico.
A Colorado College senior, Juniper
grew up in Missoula, Mont., reading issues of High Country News as
they turned up on her parents' coffee table. But her interest in
journalism can be traced back to Hellgate High School journalism
teacher Wayne Seitz. "He yelled and he screamed," she recalls, "and
somehow he taught us all to love writing."
" Ed Marston for the staff






