Baker City herald. (Baker City, Or.) 1990-current, November 28, 2020, Page 4, Image 4

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    SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 28, 2020
Baker City, Oregon
4A
Write a letter
news@bakercityherald.com
OUR VIEW
Solution
to eviction
problem?
Nobody wants people to lose their place to live be-
cause of the pandemic. And Oregon’s eviction morato-
rium for renters is set to expire on Dec. 31.
Oregon lawmakers are discussing a solution. But it
looks like it will only delay the problem, not fi x it.
The idea is that new legislation could be passed
in a special session to extend and modify the mora-
torium for renters. One thing that’s new: Renters
would have to submit a sworn statement that they
were negatively impacted by the pandemic. Will that
be easy for tenants to do? Will they be able to fi gure it
out on their own? We don’t know.
Landlords also get some other things in the con-
cept: They could evict people for additional causes
other than just nonpayment of rent, such as plans to
demolish or convert units.
The state would set a new fund of some $100 mil-
lion to help cover lost rent. Landlords would have to
apply for their tenants that owe. It would only pay
80% of what is owed. Smaller landlords and land-
lords with higher percentages of unpaid rent would
get preference.
As of July 1, 2021, though, the moratorium would
expire. Back rent for renters would come due. If rent-
ers couldn’t afford to pay it before then, they will sud-
denly be able to as of July 1? That seems a stretch.
This is a stopgap measure, though. The Legislature
could meet again and make modifi cations.
Unsigned editorials are the opinion of the Baker City Herald.
Columns, letters and cartoons on this page express the opinions
of the authors and not necessarily that of the Baker City Herald.
Your views
Now the swamp really has
been drained
On Nov. 19 the Herald printed a dis-
turbing letter from Rick Rienks (I recall
an equally disturbing one from another
Rienks a few weeks earlier, question-
ing the seriousness of COVID-19 and
the “science” based importance of mask
wearing). As ill-researched as that letter
proved to be the recent one by Rick has
taken the art of untruths to new heights.
He asks us to “Remember America,” how
great it was before and after President
Obama? You know? Remember how
Obama crushed our education system,
promoted crime, destroyed our comfort-
able life and tore apart our fi scal respon-
sibility? Well if you can’t recall all of that
evil assuredly you at least remember his
“well planned divisiveness?” Mr. Rienks
takes his adoration of soon-to-be Mr.
Trump into the Fox News/Parler world
of conspiracies and he actually asks us to
support the future ex-president’s efforts?
Letters to the editor
We welcome letters on any
issue of public interest. Writers
are limited to one letter every
15 days. Writers must sign their
letter and include an address and
phone number (for verifi cation
only). Email letters to news@
bakercityherald.com.
I can only surmise that he is talking
about Trump’s attack on our democracy
and his spoiled childlike refusal to ac-
cept the vote and will of the majority
of this once great nation, his subver-
sive antics to try and steal an election,
his vindictive, revengeful, bitter and
selfi sh actions aimed at disrupting a
peaceful transfer of power, his fruit-
less and unsubstantiated accusations
of voter fraud ad nauseum!
Here’s a few things that I remem-
ber about America.
I remember when divisive hate did
not infect our country. When armed
white supremacists and the American
Nazi Party didn’t boldly march our
streets. When we had the respect of
other democratic nations. When we
were making impactful moves on
global warming. When we welcomed
others instead of separating children
from parents and placing them in
cages. When compassion for our fellow
man outweighed personal wealth and
greed. When our president would never
think of befriending dictators. I could go
on and on, Mr. Rienks, but will leave you
with a choice nugget of advice that was
repeatedly thrown in the face of your
fellow citizens that voted for Hillary (a
majority of Americans then also): “Get
over it ... you lost!” The swamp is, at last,
drained.
Mike Meyer
Baker City
Feeling the weight of time out in the woods
The roll of toilet paper looked
as out of place as a bull elk in a
library.
Perhaps that’s a slight exag-
geration, albeit an improvement, I
contend, over the terribly overused
bull-in-a-china-shop cliché.
I’ve never actually seen an elk in
a library, for one thing.
Or any other hoofed animal,
come to that.
Also, the toilet paper, if you
ignored the general setting, was
situated in the fashion to which we
are accustomed. It was threaded
onto a cylinder that made dispens-
ing simple. The roll was within
arm’s reach of a hole framed by a
white plastic seat.
Which sounds like your basic
toilet set up, to be sure.
(And like mine.)
Except your basic toilet set up,
I feel confi dent in saying, isn’t in a
grove of lodgepole pines.
Or any other pines.
When I fi rst saw the roll of toilet
paper I stopped as suddenly as if I
had seen a snake.
The scene was so incongruous, in
the manner of some pieces of mod-
ern art that juxtapose common but
utterly unrelated objects, that for
a few seconds I wondered whether
my eyes, or rather my brain, had
misled me.
But as I walked a few steps
closer the apparent inconsistency of
this tableau, as often happens with
proximity, resolved.
JAYSON
JACOBY
The toilet paper was merely
the obvious — arguably the most
vital — accessory to a rudimentary
outhouse. I berated myself for not
recognizing the structure imme-
diately, something that required
a simple inference. I had just a
few minutes earlier hiked past a
hunting camp. And hunters, who
obviously can’t suppress their natu-
ral, well, functions for several days
while they’re pursuing deer or elk,
tend to confi ne that activity to one
specifi c spot.
I just hadn’t expected that the
facilities, if you’ll permit me a brief
dalliance with euphemism, would
be quite so distant from the fi re
ring and the fl at ground where the
tents go up.
I surmised that the hunters had
perhaps discovered an unpleasant
aspect of the local wind currents
that prompted a relocation to a
somewhat more remote place.
This scheme had one obvious
fl aw — lack of protection for the
toilet paper.
The roll was left bare, so to
speak, and as anyone familiar with
this particular product knows,
its absorbency was designed for
volumes rather less than what a
mountain rainstorm musters.
This camp is near Hoodoo Creek,
between the upper Grande Ronde
River and the La Grande Water-
shed.
We came across it, by happen-
stance in late September, while hik-
ing on an old road that didn’t look
like it had been traveled by a full-
size rig in at least a few decades.
I’m no archaeologist but it was
clear that hunters have pitched
their tents in this glade for gen-
erations. The ground between the
lodgepoles had the characteristic
bare look of places where many
people have lain. And the meat
poles — if any question remained
about the pursuits of those who
have camped here, these horizontal
logs nailed to trees were unequivo-
cal evidence — had hung so long
that some of the nail heads were
partially hidden by the bark of the
still-growing pines, rusty circles in
shallow recesses rather like navels.
These traditional camps fasci-
nate me.
They are historical sites, of a sort,
and I feel the weight of the years
and the decades when I stand
beside the ring of stones blackened
by the fl ames of dozens of fi res. It
is a pleasant feeling, mainly, tinged
with nostalgia. But it’s also a trifl e
frustrating. I yearn at those mo-
ments for something more tangible,
a sign that tells me how long the
hunters have gathered here. I try
to imagine what it would be like to
stand here not on a sunny and mild
September afternoon but in No-
vember, when the dusk comes early
and cold, when faces crowd close
to the fl ickering fi relight, when the
stories of elk are swapped as easily
as the whiskey bottle.
✐
✐
✐
I had a similar feeling a month
or so later while hiking the trail
that follows the North Fork of the
John Day River through its wilder-
ness canyon.
Not far downriver from the
mouth of Granite Creek we came
across a hoary old ponderosa pine,
better than 3 feet through the
middle.
Fortunately a trail crew had
preceded us and sawed through
the mammoth pine. The rings were
too close to permit anything like an
accurate count, but the tree surely
was at least a couple of centuries
old.
As we walked through the gap
— the trunk so tall it was almost
like passing through a tunnel — I
thought about how often I have
hiked past a cut log on a trail and
wondered who wielded the saw,
and when.
Was it a fi ne day, the sun broiling
the sweaty sawyers as they went
about their heavy work?
Or was a summer storm rising,
freshening the breeze and promis-
ing the refreshment of a shower at
what would normally be the hottest
part of the day?
I wonder too about the trail
workers, especially in cases when
the log has nearly rotted away and
must have yielded to the toothed
blade many decades before.
Might one of those laborers yet
be alive, living his last years?
I conjure in my mind a scenario
as I walk along. I imagine a frail
man, a widower, alone in the last
home he will ever know. I imagine
that on occasion, as he’s sifting yet
again through the myriad memo-
ries that make up his unique story,
he remembers that day, that trail,
that log. Does he ever wonder, in
that moment, whether hikers still
pass that log, still benefi t from
his toil, the task he accomplished
with muscles then stout but now
withered?
I will never answer those ques-
tions.
But it struck me how simple it
would be to have trail crews bring
along a couple of thin metal tabs.
When they saw through a par-
ticularly thick tree they could etch
their names, and the date, on the
tab and nail it to the log.
A small legacy, I suppose.
But even the tiniest tale, a mere
handful of words, can enrich those
fortunate to read them while wan-
dering the wildlands.
Jayson Jacoby is editor
of the Baker City Herald.
CONTACT YOUR PUBLIC OFFICIALS
President Donald Trump: The White House,
1600 Pennsylvania Ave., Washington, D.C.
20500; 202-456-1414; fax 202-456-2461; to send
comments, go to www.whitehouse.gov/contact.
U.S. Sen. Jeff Merkley: D.C. office: 313
Hart Senate Office Building, U.S. Senate,
Washington, D.C., 20510; 202-224-3753; fax
202-228-3997. Portland office: One World
Trade Center, 121 S.W. Salmon St. Suite 1250,
Portland, OR 97204; 503-326-3386; fax 503-
326-2900. Baker City office, 1705 Main St.,
Suite 504, 541-278-1129; merkley.senate.gov.
U.S. Sen. Ron Wyden: D.C. offi ce: 221
Dirksen Senate Offi ce Building, Washington,
D.C., 20510; 202-224-5244; fax 202-228-2717. La
Grande offi ce: 105 Fir St., No. 210, La Grande,
OR 97850; 541-962-7691; fax, 541-963-0885;
wyden.senate.gov.
U.S. Rep. Greg Walden (2nd District):
D.C. offi ce: 2182 Rayburn Offi ce Building,
Washington, D.C., 20515, 202-225-6730;
fax 202-225-5774. La Grande offi ce: 1211
Washington Ave., La Grande, OR 97850; 541-
624-2400, fax, 541-624-2402; walden.house.
gov.
Oregon Gov. Kate Brown: 254 State
Capitol, Salem, OR 97310; 503-378-3111; www.
governor.oregon.gov.
Baker City Hall: 1655 First Street, P.O. Box
650, Baker City, OR 97814; 541-523-6541; fax
541-524-2049. City Council meets the second
and fourth Tuesdays at 7 p.m. in Council
Chambers. Loran Joseph, Randy Schiewe,
Lynette Perry, Arvid Andersen, Larry Morrison,
Jason Spriet and Doni Bruland.
Baker City administration: 541-523-6541.
Fred Warner Jr., city manager; Ray Duman,
police chief; Sean Lee, fi re chief; Michelle Owen,
public works director.
Baker County Commission: Baker
County Courthouse 1995 3rd St., Baker City,
OR 97814; 541-523-8200. Meets the first
and third Wednesdays at 9 a.m.; Bill Harvey
(chair), Mark Bennett, Bruce Nichols.