A6 THE ASTORIAN • SATuRdAy, AuguST 17, 2019 TP Freight: ‘There’s no hard feelings’ Continued from Page A1 he said. “We’ll be out of the way over there in Miles Crossing.” TP Freight, short for Til- lamook and Portland in a nod to its start hauling the region’s cheese to the metro area, has been in Astoria since 1985. The company takes freight from national carriers the “final mile” to businesses, government agencies and other larger entities along the Oregon Coast through depots in Coos Bay, Lincoln City, Til- lamook and Astoria. Trucks operate after 10 p.m. to avoid traffic. The company supplies anyone from Columbia Memorial Hospital and the Coast Guard to electric tug manufacturer Lektro and East Oregonian Publishing Co., which prints The Asto- rian. When the new depot in Miles Crossing came before the county Board of Com- missioners on Wednesday, local business leaders let them know how important the freight carrier is to the region. Kurt Englund, presi- dent of Englund Marine & Industrial Supply, testified that TP Freight provides competitive delivery times. “They’re very efficient and do it at a very compet- itive price,” he said. “So, it’s a benefit for everybody, the community. Especially us, being a retail business, a lot of the time you have to factor that freight into your margins. So, the lower that is, it keeps it more competi- tive for local people.” County commission- ers unanimously approved the depot’s new location. Julia Decker, the county’s planning manager, said the depot would generate the same number of trips as two homes. Earlier this month, the developer behind the pro- posed 16,000-square-foot Grocery Outlet asked the city’s Design Review Com- mittee to continue a pub- lic hearing on the project until September. City plan- ning staff has recommended approval. TP Freight hasn’t been formally noticed to move out of the Astoria termi- nal, but expects to be soon, Shore said. “There’s no hard feel- ings,” he said. “I think it is one of those things that was meant to be and is going to be a blessing.” Edward Stratton/The Astorian Work began in recent months on TP Freight Lines’ new location in Miles Crossing. ABLE: ‘We’re a statewide program’ Continued from Page A1 Experience Act in 2014 — launched at a national level in 2016. In Oregon, there are more than 2,100 account holders. In Clatsop County, just 14 accounts have been cre- ated, but that number is on the rise. “It’s slow going,” said Kaellen Hessel, the pro- gram’s advocacy and out- reach manager. “One fam- ily at a time.” Data from the Oregon Office on Disability and Health show 27% of res- idents in Clatsop County live with some sort of dis- ability. Of those people, about a third live in poverty. “Hopefully, we’ll see a change in this,” Hessel said. “They didn’t think they could save, but now they can.” Compared to other pro- grams that can take months or years to receive, ABLE is designed to be sim- ple and fast, with minimal restrictions. It only takes about 15 minutes to apply. The ease, according to Hessel, is part of the reason the program has been slow to spread. “We sound too good to be true,” she said. “For decades they’ve been told, ‘You can’t have more than $2,000.’ They have been functionally forced to stay in poverty. Then they hear there is this new thing.” Chick was initially skep- tical of ABLE. She waited more than a year before signing up to ensure the program was as beneficial and secure as it sounded. Now, she looks forward to seeing Blake build sav- ings the same way his little brother can. “We were really disap- pointed to not have a sav- ings account for our son,” Chick said. “Just because somebody has an intel- lectual disability does not mean that they don’t need to save for their future. In fact, they probably need to think about it even more.” This week, the Oregon Savings Network hosted a series of engagement work- shops throughout Clatsop County. Hessel met with 13 employees from NW Com- munity Alliance, a local nonprofit that works with people with disabilities. The nonprofit will be one of the first programs in Oregon to partner with ABLE and help people who need guidance or assistance with their finances. “Our goal is to get our clients more flexibility that’s due to them,” said Joy Kropielniski, who works for the nonprofit. “ABLE will be able to do this.” The partnership will be especially helpful for coastal residents like the Chick family. They fre- quently found themselves driving the “services tri- angle,” as Chick called it, between Astoria, Tillamook and Portland to receive the care they needed for Blake. Hessel recognizes that coastal towns, like other rural regions of the state, do not have the same access to services as people living in metropolitan areas. “We’re a statewide pro- gram,” she said. “So we need to actually be every- where in the state.” So far, the outreach is working. ABLE has already received the same number of applicants from Clatsop County so far this year as it did in both 2017 and 2018. “We’re trying to get our disability community being able to participate in life just like anybody else,” Chick said. “It should look no different. That’s the whole point here.” Chris Havel/Oregon Parks and Recreation Department With the help of towels, buckets of water and volunteers, the beached humpback was kept wet to protect it from dehydration. Whale: ‘Its chances of survival were remote even without this stranding event’ Continued from Page A1 consultation with people on the ground and other experts. They took a number of factors into consideration, including the animal’s age. It is early in the season for a humpback that young to be fully weaned from its mother’s milk, Mate noted. The mother may have died or been injured. Or, Mate theorized, food may have been so scarce the mother decided to wean it early. Either way, once the young whale was on the beach, the chance of reunit- ing it with its mother was unlikely. “However it got sepa- rated from its mother, its chances of survival were remote even without this stranding event,” Mate said. “It was just way too young and small to make it on its own.” On the beach, it was only suffering, he said. Gravity Deep water supports large whales’ enormous weight. Stranded on land without that support, gravity begins to tear them apart, said Kris- tin Wilkinson, the Washing- ton state and Oregon strand- ing coordinator for NOAA’s West Coast Regional Office. Organs and circulatory systems can begin to col- lapse. Prolonged exposure can lead to blistered skin and hyperthermia. Attempts to tow a whale back into water can injure or dislocate the tail or even par- alyze the animal. Dredging around a whale to create a channel to deeper water can cause other environmental disruptions. In 1979, Mate was on the scene after 41 sperm whales stranded on the beach in Florence. At the time, they were not allowed to eutha- nize the animals. “If we could have, I would have,” Mate said. “There was no question. They stranded at the highest tide. They were never going to get back in the water and their death was a long and anguished one.” It took upward of three days for most of the whales to die. Mate and other research- ers were poised to collect samples 20 minutes after each whale died to try to determine why the animals stranded in the first place. But when they sent these freshly collected samples off for analysis, they were told, “These are tissue samples from an animal that’s been dead for three days.” For the whales, every- thing had started to break down well before they finally died. Since 2015, at least four large whales stranded alive onshore in the Pacific Northwest were able to free themselves, but all of them beached again and died, according to informa- tion compiled by NOAA in 2018. Last year, a large gray whale beached near Olympic National Park was able to refloat after several attempts. Nationwide, an aver- age of eight large whales have stranded alive in recent years. Most die within 24 hours of being stranded, even if they return to deeper water. Only about two a year are ever euthanized. Each case is different. “It really just depends on the location, the animal’s over- all condition, what resources are available, what trained staff are available. ... It’s not a formula,” Wilkinson said. Reports of marine mam- mal strandings in general are slightly lower in Oregon than in California or Wash- ington state. Between 2007 and 2016, Oregon had a reported 3,776 strandings of dead and alive animals, most of them sea lions and seals. Whales accounted for only 1% of the stranded animals. “Most of the time when we get a whale washed up, it’s either dead or almost dead,” said Chris Havel, associate director for the Oregon Parks and Recre- ation Department. “Getting a young animal that was rel- atively healthy … that’s an unusual experience for us.” “It’s a hard thing to wit- ness,” he said. Pushed back The young humpback in Waldport had tried to swim past a sandbar into deep water during high tides on Wednesday and Thursday, but every time it oriented itself toward the ocean, it would get pushed back, according to Brit- tany Blades, the curator of mammals at Oregon Coast Aquarium, who stayed over- night to monitor the whale. “As the night went on, the whale stranded fur- ther on shore due to the strong waves and extremely high tide,” Blades said in a statement. The group gathered around the whale considered trying to move the whale closer to the water, but decided the plan wasn’t fea- sible. Given the amount of time the whale had already spent stranded on land, Blades said it was likely the internal organs had already “suffered irreparable dam- age that is not externally apparent.” A Washington state veter- inarian administered a series of injections to humanely euthanize the whale. The method NOAA follows involves first sedating the animal so it is fully asleep with needles that cause about as much pain as a vac- cine shot. Then, a veterinarian delivers potassium chloride to stop the heart. Sometimes the whale reacts in these final moments, briefly raising its flippers or tail, a movement referred to as “the last swim.” “This may be difficult to witness, but if eutha- nasia is being adminis- tered, qualified veterinar- ians have determined it is the most humane option for the whale,” Wilkinson notes in a fact sheet she com- piled about large live whale strandings. Scientists and research- ers will perform a necropsy on the Waldport whale and collect samples. The whale will be buried on the beach near the site of the final stranding. Scholarship: Rudduck plans to graduate next year Continued from Page A1 members of Oregon work- ers who have died or been permanently disabled on the job. “It’s really hard whenever people talk about him,” Rud- duck said of her father. “He sounds like a really good guy who would have helped.” McMaster, a former Coast Guardsmen, joined the Warrenton police as a trainee while still in military service. In March 1996, he and his partner were called out to what ended up being a false alarm at the grade school. On the way, a driver pulled out onto Harbor Drive in front of the patrol car. The car flipped while try- ing to avoid the other vehi- cle, landing upside down in the Skipanon Slough. McMaster, the passenger, and his partner were trapped inside for 10 minutes as the car filled with water. Rescu- ers reached the two and took them to the hospital, where McMaster was pronounced dead. His partner escaped with minor injuries. McMaster is the only recorded death of a War- renton police officer while Edward Stratton/The Astorian A tree was planted at the site where the Warrenton patrol car carrying the late Robert ‘Bernie’ McMaster and his partner went into the Skipanon Slough. on duty, said Warrenton Police Chief Mathew Work- man. A tree decorated with a cross marks the site of the crash. A modest memorial to McMaster sits on the book- shelf at Warrenton City Hall. Workman, a police officer in Nebraska at the time of the crash, never knew McMas- ter. But he lived next to Rud- duck and her mother, Elena McMaster, in Hammond. “From what people tell me, she reminds them of Bernie,” he said. “She looks just like her mom, but she has his personality.” When Rudduck was in her senior year of high school, Workman began telling her about scholarships for the families of officers killed in the line of duty. He put her in touch with Oregon Con- cerns of Police Survivors, an advocacy group. The group awarded Rudduck a scholar- ship and has helped her learn about other support. “It’s amazing,” she said. “I didn’t realize how many scholarships are out there for children in my predicament.” Rudduck, who grew up in a single-parent household, has adopted her father’s pen- chant for public service. She volunteered with the War- renton Fire Department’s holiday food drive from 2007 until her senior year at Warrenton High School in 2014. While attending school, she worked days at the grade school’s preschool and nights at Fultano’s Pizza in Warrenton. After high school, she married fellow Warrenton graduate Ryan Rudduck, a petty officer in the Navy. She moved to Gresham, where she earned three asso- ciate degrees from Mt. Hood Community College in gen- eral studies, science and art, along with a nursing assis- tant license. While attending college, she volunteered at Legacy Mount Hood Med- ical Center filling IV carts and cleaning patient rooms. Alannah Rudduck now lives in Georgia, where her husband is stationed at Fort Gordon. She is studying for a bachelor’s in dental hygiene with a minor in business at nearby Augusta University and plans to graduate next year. “My mom always said he was a futuristic planner,” she said of her father. “With- out him, I’d struggle, and I’d be in debt. I’m almost done with school, and I haven’t taken out a single loan.”