5A
THE DAILY ASTORIAN • MONDAY, OCTOBER 24, 2016
County manager found the inventory almost nil
Moore noticed
two challenges
when relocating
T
he lack of housing in Clatsop
County impacts every walk of
life. Even top executives have dif-
iculty inding suitable places to
live.
County Manager Cameron
Moore faced the housing struggle
this spring when he moved from
Illinois. Moore and his wife had
a budget in mind to buy a house,
and had to spend well above that
amount when they eventually
found a home in Gearhart.
“It did work out for us,” Moore
said. “I really recognize we had
options a lot of people don’t have.”
During his search, Moore
noticed two challenges.
The irst was what to do in the
short term. Moore was being relo-
cated by the county and had some
funds available for temporary
housing, but he was still shocked
how expensive short-term rentals
are in the county.
“The initial surprise is you are
probably going to spend $1,200
to $2,500 a month for temporary
housing,” Moore said. “That’s
your irst surprise.”
The second surprise is the chal-
lenge inding a long-term home.
For those looking to buy, the inven-
tory is almost nil, Moore said.
“I think what you quickly ind
is there are limited options for per-
‘I don’t know
if I’ve ever
been any
place that has
some of the
same market
challenges we
have here.’
Cameron Moore
Clatsop County manager
The most similar housing mar-
ket Moore has seen to Clatsop
County is when he lived in Flag-
staff, Arizona. Both areas have
unique geography and are sur-
rounded by forest. However,
Moore said, a lot more building
was taking place in Flagstaff.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever been
any place that has some of the
same market challenges we have
here,” he said.
— Kyle Spurr
Joshua Bessex/The Daily Astorian
Clatsop County Manager Cameron Moore moved earlier this year from Mahomet, Illinois, where he served
as the chief executive officer for the Champaign County Regional Planning Commission since 2007.
manent housing if you are inter-
ested in buying,” Moore said.
“Pretty quickly, you have to start
making decisions about what am I
willing to live with assuming you
can’t get something ideal.”
The housing market is push-
ing many prospective buyers to the
rural parts of the county. What may
seem affordable in the rural county
will still be expensive with com-
muting costs.
Moore said the housing mar-
ket in the county is quite differ-
ent than other places he has lived
around the country. In places like
Iowa, there are wide open spaces
for developments to crop up.
“We have limitations just based
on topography and geology,”
Moore said.
Senior: ‘I think it all boils down to the policies that are in place’
Continued from Page 1A
Senior now lives in a two-bed-
room apartment at a newer devel-
opment near Costco in Warrenton
for $1,000 a month.
“I really wanted to be in newer
construction,” she said. “I didn’t
want to deal with house repairs
and stuff breaking down because
it’s too old, or deal with pests, or
spiders or roaches.”
“I think that works for me. I feel
like I’m halfway to Astoria, half-
way to Seaside.”
Senior works as an outreach
coordinator for Oregon State Uni-
versity’s Extension Service, teach-
ing people across the county who
use the Supplemental Nutrition
Assistance Program how to eat
healthy on a budget. After earning
a Ph.D. in food technology from
Clemson University, Senior knew
she wanted to work for such a pub-
lic service program.
She saw some similarities in
Oregon to her native Costa Rica.
After a strong interview with Ore-
gon State, a local Extension Ser-
vice provider, she started looking
for a place.
“It was a tough decision, but I
was just ready to move,” she said.
“I knew my time in Clemson was
done. I had my friend in Hillsboro,
so I felt like I had someone” for
support.
Senior said she was also sup-
ported by Norma Hernandez, a
county health department coordi-
nator who took her in while her
more money than locals.
“I think it all boils down to the
policies that are in place,” she said.
“Without any policies, people can
come in with money and get what-
ever they want, and make the price
point go up, then others cannot
afford it.
“There has to be some policy
in place to honor the rights of the
people who already live here, but
also consider the people” moving
here.
— Edward Stratton
apartment was being cleared.
“I found a place with all the
amenities I wanted,” she said. “It’s
a happy story for me.”
But Senior hears from the peo-
ple she serves about their chal-
lenges in inding housing, and
about the gentriication in Port-
land and other places. It reminds
her somewhat of San Jose, her
hometown and capital of Costa
Rica. She said the housing mar-
ket in Costa Rica is being inlated
by people moving there who have
Dyer: Police work ‘can eat you up and spit you out’
Continued from Page 1A
“You get exposed to every
type of crime you can imag-
ine,” he said. “And, by the
grace of God, maybe you
don’t see some of it. But in a
long career, you’re going to
see lots of ugly stuff.”
He has seen people burn
alive while trapped in a vehi-
cle on a road to Hillsboro.
He has pulled bodies from
car accidents and other fatal
scenes.
“The smells and stuff you
just don’t forget. You don’t
forget burning lesh and all
those types of things that you
come in contact with as a
cop,” Dyer said.
He has helped remove
children from parents who
abused and neglected them.
(He remembers one household
in Knappa where the kids had
maggots in their shoes.)
He has never shot anyone,
always managed to de-esca-
late the situation, but he has
come close and, he said, would
probably have been justiied.
In the Portland metro area,
he dealt with Crips and Bloods
and other gangs.
Subjects have pulled guns
and knives on him. He has
been punched, bit and spit
on. While searching a car in
the mid-1980s, Dyer acciden-
tally stuck himself on a needle
and developed an autoimmune
disease.
He has told dozens of par-
ents, in person, that their child
had been killed. One time, he
had to break the news to a
close friend’s family.
Though Dyer said he has
never been overcome by
post-traumatic stress disorder,
he knows what it feels like
when an unpleasant memory
gets triggered.
“Sometimes it’s very
delayed, because you get so
good at compartmentalizing
as an oficer that it doesn’t hit
you when you think it would
hit you,” he said. “It hits you
when you least expect it.”
On the force
And yet …
Dyer, a genial, even-tem-
Danny Miller/The Daily Astorian
Tom Dyer holds a framed photograph of him graduating from
the state police academy at Camp Rilea in October 1984.
Danny Miller/The Daily Astorian
Tom Dyer poses for a portrait next to his former patrol car Friday at the Oregon State
Patrol offices in Warrenton. Dyer, who was born and raised in Warrenton, retired earlier
this month after 32 years with the force.
‘You’re a public servant.
If it’s a power trip, you
shouldn’t be doing the job.’
Tom Dyer
retired Oregon State Patrol officer
pered 56-year-old, has enjoyed
a very rewarding career, one
that allowed him to help peo-
ple in their lowest moments.
“It’s been a blessing,” he
said. “It’s been wonderful.”
In Clatsop County, those
low moments often arise when
people are suffering from drug
and alcohol addiction, mental
illness or both.
“Most people who live
here, they’ll say, ‘Well, we
don’t have a drug problem,’”
he said. “Well, yeah, we do.”
The county, he said, does
not have enough facilities to
house and treat them.
“It’s brutal, as an oficer,
because you know there’s no
place to put someone where
they can get help,” Dyer said.
He said the county jail
is not the place for some,
because their issues are men-
tal, not criminal. “They may
have committed a crime, but
that’s not the underlying prob-
lem. And so it’s real dificult,”
he said.
For Dyer, some of the best
times have come when sub-
jects he pulled over or detained
for reasons related to drugs
and alcohol later seek him
out, or send a letter, to tell him
that they quit using because of
their interaction with him.
“You have an opportunity
as an oficer to make a differ-
ence, if you choose to, because
you meet people when they’re
hurting, and when they’re
really in need. You can either
be part of the solution, or not,”
he said. “And I had a career
where I was able to, most of
the time, feel pretty good about
making a difference with alco-
holics and drug addicts.”
His supervisor, Lt. Andrew
Merila said Dyer has received
many letters of commenda-
tion, more than most cops.
“It really makes the job, all
the craziness, well worth it,”
Dyer said.
“You’re always on
guard”
Asked how retirement
feels, Dyer said, “It’s really
weird, after 32 years of put-
ting a uniform on. You almost
feel lost a little bit. I was a lit-
tle depressed the irst week,
because I really didn’t want to
realize it was over.”
“Part of me is sad, ’cause
I really like my job,” he con-
tinued. “But part of me knows
that it was time for me to go
and let the young guys move
up and take their leadership
role.”
He said his blood pressure
has dropped about 20 points
because his life is less stressful
— “You don’t realize you’re
always on guard,” he said —
and he doesn’t have to wear
the heavy equipment.
Dyer, whose older brother
died in a plane crash in the
early 1980s, has volunteered
to continue doing death
notiications.
“I felt honored, even
though it was tough, to do
those types of jobs, because
someone has to do it, and do
it in a manner that is compas-
sionate,” he said.
Folks have asked him why
he chose to remain a senior
trooper rather than seek a
higher position.
“My personality is such
that I don’t want to tell some-
one to do something I wouldn’t
want to do,” he said, adding:
“I knew where my position
should be, and I was content
with that, and I would do the
same thing over again.”
Merila said Dyer often
went out of his way to help
people, sometimes by giving
them a ride or helping them
get gas.
“One of our mottos is ‘Ser-
vice irst,’ Merila said, “and
I think that’s where Tom
shined the most. He exempli-
ies our tradition of serving the
public.”
Dyer, a lifelong Christian,
graduated valedictorian from
Warrenton High School, and,
after college, attended the
state police academy at Camp
Rilea. He lives in Warrenton
with his wife, Ginny, of 34
years. They have two daugh-
ters and three sons.
“You’re a public
servant”
For people looking to go
into law enforcement, Dyer
advises them to know exactly
what they are getting into.
“Police work is for a cer-
tain type of person. Not every-
one should do it, because it
can eat you up and spit you
out,” he said.
He recommends that aspir-
ing cops go on ride-alongs,
talk to different oficers
from different agencies, and
job shadow someone they
respect.
“For someone who has the
right temperament and (is) a
good it, it’s a great job,” he
said. “But it could be a terri-
fying one for someone who
doesn’t have that it.”
In addition, they should
get a sense of what it’s like to
do the job long-term, how it
can wear on a person, how it
affects marriages.
“You’re not going to
make it to some anniversa-
ries. You’re not going to make
some Christmases. You’ll have
to break promises, because
bad things happen and you get
called out,” he said.
And, he said, policing is
often a lonely job. “You can’t
talk about a lot of things — or
you shouldn’t, about cases you
have,” he said.
Bottom line: Oficers who
dread going to work should
not be on the force, he said. He
would not want to work with
an oficer that’s a “Johnny
Law-type,” he said, “because
that’s not what police work’s
about.”
“You’re a public servant,”
he said. “If it’s a power trip,
you shouldn’t be doing the
job.”