VIEWPOINTS
Saturday, January 20, 2018
I
East Oregonian
Page 5A
Emmanuel’s home
t was hot that Saturday morning, 80
degrees at seven in the morning. I could
see the thermometer on the side of my
shop from where I stood in front of the air
conditioner talking on the phone to Caty.
She headed out a half hour before to work,
and had jerked me out of dreamworld to
report spotting a strange sight. Fifteen miles
to the south, a man was pushing a shopping
cart full of plastic sacks down
the edge of the highway, in
the middle of Wheatsville,
USA. I allowed that it was
uncommon to see a homeless
person ten miles from the
closest possible home, and
went back to bed.
It was just as hot the next
morning when she called to
say that she had waved at
the same guy, pushing the
same cart, who was now at
milepost 16, 12 miles north
of yesterday. What did I want
to do about it? I said I would
be forced to put on my shoes
if I were going to help push a
shopping cart, and that my preference was to
do nothing about it.
On the way out to the highway, I stopped
at Edna’s store and bought a bottle of ice-cold
Mountain Dew, the official drink of homeless
guys pushing shopping carts through the
treeless void.
Sure enough, a mile south of Athena,
walking north toward traffic was a small
black guy, forty-something, missing front
teeth, torn windbreaker, dirty chino pants,
pulling a standard grocery store cart along the
breakdown lane. I guided my little red truck
to a whoa in front of him and stepped out.
“Yassuh. What can I do for you, Suh?”
“I don’t know. I just stopped to see if you
were alright.”
“Oh, Yassuh. I’m fine. Little warm, little
thirsty, but just fine, thanks for asking.”
“Where are you headed?”
“I’m going to California someday. Right
now I am going to Washington State, maybe
Spokane or somewhere like
that.”
“Want a ride? I can get
you to the Washington state
line. Twenty miles or so.”
“That would be more than
just fine. Please help me lift
my house onto your truck
and we’ll be on our way.”
Once we had loaded
his stuff, including a large
rock, we shook hands and
introduced ourselves. His
name was Emmanuel and
his hand was wet. I passed
him the bottle of Dew. We
didn’t talk about the politics
of homelessness. Emmanuel
was not a talkative guy, but neither did he
seem demented or wounded, just solitary. I
did learn a few things about his life in the 45
minutes I rode with him.
He was originally from Natchez,
Mississippi, which explained the “Yassuh”
stuff. He had been on the road for 16 years
and three months. He was on his fifth
shopping cart house, the one in the back
given to him by an Albertson’s employee in
Mountain Home, Idaho.
The worst place he had ever been was
Butte, Montana, where he had done 14 days
As we hit
the edge of
civilization,
I got a few
insights into
living out of a
shopping cart.
for vagrancy with “some real nasty white
boys.” The best place he had ever been was
“in the trees, any kind of trees, where I can
hunker and read the Bible.”
As we hit the edge of civilization just south
of the Washington line I got a few insights
into living out of a shopping cart.
“Now there is a Zp Trip. Very good
dumpsters. Folks buy that corndog nacho
burrito stuff and don’t like it, toss it away. And
it is always poor folks working in convenience
stores and poor folks are more generous than
the rich ones. Papa Murphy’s pizza place.
You get there late at night, just before they
close and those kids working in there, they
give you all the raw pizza you can eat. Used
car lots. You find a big busy one on a late
Saturday night, where people been getting
in and out of those cars all day, and there’s
bound to be pocket change on the ground. Mr.
McDonald’s. Stay afar unless you can afford a
cup of coffee. They have a company policy to
chase you away from every one of those in the
world, even call in the police.”
While we were unloading his house below
the sign reading “Welcome to Washington,
the Evergreen State” Emmanuel’s rock
dropped from the pickup bed onto the
pavement. I asked why he was carrying a
rock around the world. He said “You always
should have a rock, in case the wind blows or
the dog is terrible big. You’d be surprised how
many places that you just cannot find a rock.”
Wise words.
Three hours later, my son and I decided
to head for the hills and slaughter a few tin
cans with a .22 rifle. He wanted to drive. As
I got in the passenger side of our little truck I
found an almost full pack of Marlboros that
Emmanuel must have dropped. We headed
J.D. S mith
FROM THE HEADWATERS
OF DRY CREEK
for Washington and found Emmanuel just
south of Walla Walla, two miles north of
where I left him, head down, pushing his cart.
When I handed him the pack of smokes he
said, “Yazzuh. I been looking all through my
home for those. Figured I must’ve left them
in your automobile. Thank you and the Lord,
Brother,” smiled and flashed the peace sign.
He was lighting up as we drove away.
■
J.D. Smith is an accomplished writer and
jack-of-all-trades. He lives in Athena.
Justice in the age of Bundys
Ethics still matter in Oregon
The Oregonian/OregonLive
E
thics commissioners who reviewed
the investigation into how Cylvia
Hayes profited by braiding together
her work as a private businesswoman and
public official described what they found in
direct and compelling words:
Profoundly disturbing. Crushing and
disappointing. The worst of politics. A case
study in what you are not supposed to do in
public office.
Even more powerful was where
Oregon Government Ethics Commission
Chairwoman Alison Kean laid blame: “I
want to make it really clear that I don’t think
this is all on one person,” she said. “We may
just have so much evidence on Ms. Hayes
that it’s a little easier, but I think also this
report is full of evidence that is applicable
to the member of her household who was a
public official and was the governor.”
After three years, we finally have the
answers to the important questions about
the abuse of public office that local media
had been asking before John Kitzhaber
was elected to his historic, if ever so short,
fourth term. They were the right questions.
They were questions that weren’t
always welcome in a state infatuated with
its cowboy governor. Or in a state where
one party has ruled lately and seems
comfortable sticking with the devil they
know.
These were basic questions that the
pair never asked of themselves. Maybe it
was Kitzhaber’s hubris. Or Hayes’ blind
ambition. But when the governor’s staff
raised these issues, they were shot down by
the chief executive of the state.
In his 2015 resignation letter, Kitzhaber
wrote that he was confident he hadn’t
broken any laws. He wrote that “Oregonians
will see that I have never put anything
before my love for and commitment
to Oregon and faithfully fulfilling the
responsibilities of the public offices I have
held.”
But he did, whether he’ll ever truly
recognize that or not.
Kitzhaber compounded those violations
of our collective trust when he and Hayes
defiantly dismissed news stories and fought
public records requests, both through stalled
processes and in court. (Hayes is currently
appealing the $124,837 judgment she still
owes The Oregonian after losing her battle
to keep her state-related emails private.)
Kitzhaber and Hayes attacked The
Oregonian/OregonLive and other Portland
media, claiming reports were inaccurate
and vilifying reporters — long before it was
commonplace to label inconvenient facts as
fake news.
The commission’s report drowns out that
wrongheaded drumbeat.
In its 154 unyielding pages, the report
confirms the allegations raised in various
news reports. There was no line between
Hayes’ private business and her public
work. She earned generous contracts thanks
to her title and her access to Oregon’s
highest political official. It was Kitzhaber
who put her in that position and pushed his
staff to help expand her role and reach.
Ethics Commissioner Richard Burke
hit on one of the more critical points as he
and other commissioners deliberated at a
meeting last week: Kitzhaber and Hayes
should have known better. Burke pointed
out that the commission sometimes handles
conflict-of-interest violations by volunteer
appointees and office-holders in small towns
across the state. That wasn’t the case with
Kitzhaber and his top advisers.
“These are sophisticated people,” Burke
accurately described. “These are people who
are capable of swimming in the shark tank.
They are very, very sharp. They understand
how government is supposed to work.”
As commissioners discussed, Kitzhaber
and his staff identified the potential for
ethical lapses and conflicts of interest over
the years but never sought guidance from
the very agency created to help public
officials navigate those waters.
For Oregon, there couldn’t be a better
time for such a confirmation of the need for
a strong, vibrant local press and increasingly
aggressive watchdog agencies such as the
Government Ethics Commission. Without
those questions and pressure to produce
public documents, the first couple likely
would have pushed on with their ambitious
plans, which called for further expansions
of Hayes’ roles and responsibilities. Without
this ruling, Kitzhaber and Hayes could have
continued on with their misplaced criticisms
and disingenuous narrative.
The ethics commission cemented its
credibility late last year when it rejected
a pathetic settlement with Kitzhaber that
provided a mealy admission of guilt and a
$1,000 fine. In coming months, commission
members will revisit his case and decide
whether to fine Hayes the maximum of
$5,000 for each of her 22 various violations
of state ethics and conflict of interest
laws — a potential hit to her bank account
of $110,000.
Oregon will be watching. This is the time
to send a clear signal that we value integrity
in our government and that ethics mean
something in this state.
hat do we make of the
had set a “backfire” in order to protect
latest twist in the saga of
their grazing land. Initially they were
Cliven Bundy’s family?
convicted and also paid $400,000 in
As a public-lands rancher, I am both
restitution.
appalled and cheered by the dismissal
The U.S attorney successfully
of charges — with prejudice against
appealed, arguing that the law
the prosecution — against Bundy and
demanded a minimum sentence of five
two of his sons. I am also, as the Brits
years. Despite arguments of “double
say, “gob-smacked.”
Sharon jeopardy,” the father and son were
I am appalled because my
Salisbury ordered to serve longer sentences. This
ranching family has had a long and
O’Toole was one of the sparks that incited the
mostly positive relationship with the
Bundy brothers to occupy an Oregon
Comment
Bureau of Land Management and
wildlife refuge.
its personnel. Together, at our best,
Ammon and Ryan Bundy, neither
we have worked magic on the landscape,
of them ranchers, were emboldened when
planning long-term projects in a collaborative the government failed to impound their
fashion, and then seeing the results. There
family’s cattle. Without the approval of the
have also been less productive
Hammonds, whose cause they
interactions, a few of them
claimed to be upholding, they
downright hostile.
and some supporters “took
The Bundys had reason to
over” the unoccupied Malheur
believe that the government
Refuge headquarters. After a
is out of line. When the
six-week “occupation,” and
government bought out 52
the death of supporter LaVoy
of their neighbors’ grazing
Finicum, the occupiers had
permits, ostensibly for
either left or been arrested.
desert tortoise habitat, the
Several of those arrested
Bundy family refused the
plea-bargained or were
deal. However, as ranchers
convicted and imprisoned
who hold grazing leases
— one for 68 years. In
on federal ground, we
a prosecutorial mistake,
understand that we have agreements that are
government attorneys chose to charge the
critical. The Bundys refused to recognize
Bundy brothers and their supporters with
federal ownership of the public lands. After
conspiracy, instead of the clear crimes of
their federal lease was canceled, they began
trespass, illegal use of firearms and threats.
trespassing on their former lease as well as
The Oregon jury did not convict because
leases of their neighbors.
the prosecution could not prove conspiracy.
It was unfortunate that Cliven Bundy,
Cliven Bundy was arrested when he came to
who had been making some good points
visit his sons, and the three men were moved
about federal overreach, turned his attention
to Nevada to await trial for the 2014 events
to social commentary in a manner offensive
surrounding the cattle roundup.
to me and to most Americans. It was also
Which leads us to the recent stunning
unfortunate that federal officials brought an
dismissal of the charges against the Bundys.
estimated 200 snipers, personnel armed with
Again, it seems clear that they violated the
tasers, helicopters and police dogs to conduct
law. It is astonishing that the prosecution did
a roundup of some 900 cows owned by
not learn from the Oregon trial, where a juror
Bundy in the midst of calving season.
cited the prosecutors’ “air of triumphalism.”
Predictably, hundreds of heavily armed
U.S. District Judge Gloria Navarro cited
self-styled militia types showed up to support
“flagrant prosecutorial misconduct” in her
Bundy and face off federal officials. Soon a
decision, and ruled “with prejudice,” which
full-fledged standoff was underway.
means a retrial is prohibited. The U.S.
After several tense days, the government
attorney announced she may appeal.
forces withdrew, not wanting another “Ruby
It takes wisdom, patience and humanity to
Ridge” on their hands. Apparently, the Bundy make our system of federal land management
sons wrongly interpreted the situation. They
work. In the case of the Bundys, both sides
failed to understand that like it or not, most
failed. It is ironic, too, that the legal system
citizens of the West work within the system
the Bundys assailed protected their rights in
of federal ownership of public land. After all,
the end. We are, indeed, a country of laws.
about half of the West is managed by federal
The Bundys have returned to Bunkerville.
agencies.
Some supporters are still jailed. Millions
In the meantime, another family was
of taxpayer dollars have been spent. LaVoy
devastated. Harney County, Oregon ranchers
Finicum is still dead. Go figure.
Dwight, 76, and Stephen Hammond, 48, who
■
had a history of conflict with the BLM and
Sharon Salisbury O’Toole is a contributor
the Malheur Wildlife Refuge personnel, were
to of High Country News. She is a writer,
convicted of arson. They testified that they
blogger and rancher.
W
Millions of
taxpayer
dollars have
been spent.
LaVoy Finicum
is still dead.