THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 2021
Baker City, Oregon
A4
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EDITORIAL
Sheriff Ash’s
refreshing letter
Baker County Sheriff Travis Ash has many commendable attributes — he has a
knack for fi nding missing people, to cite one noteworthy example — but he hasn’t pre-
viously been known for his writing acumen.
He should be.
The letter that Ash authored recently is a refreshingly reasonable assessment of the
pandemic, and in particular the issue of state mandates and local decision making.
Ash’s one-page letter, which was posted on the Sheriff’s Offi ce’s Facebook page on
Aug. 29, is especially welcome as a contrast to the divisive missives that some of his
fellow sheriffs have recently written.
In the opening paragraph, Ash emphasizes that the Baker County Sheriff’s Offi ce
has not, and will not, enforce Oregon mandates on masks and vaccines.
“We are not responsible for enforcement of Oregon Health Authority rules,” Ash
wrote.
This is true. Although, as far as can be determined, neither Oregon Gov. Kate Brown
nor other state offi cials have actually asked county sheriffs to enforce mask and vaccine
mandates. Oregon’s Occupational Safety and Health division, for instance, is tasked
with enforcing the mask mandate for indoor public spaces.
In any case, it’s understandable why Ash would let his constituents, many of whom
are not pleased with one or both of the mandates, know that their sheriff’s offi ce won’t
be involved in enforcement.
Ash also writes that he favors local control, citing Baker County schools’ success in
having in-person classes for much of the previous year (for elementary students, in the
Baker School District) without signifi cant COVID-19 outbreaks.
In those two areas, Ash’s letter is similar to ones written by some of his colleagues,
including Union County Sheriff Cody Bowen.
But beyond those topics, the letters differ dramatically.
Ash writes that he supports, in addition to local control, “science, and common
sense.” He doesn’t deny that COVID-19 is a serious disease.
“This spike in cases and hospitalizations is supported by real-time local data,” Ash
wrote. “I believe our county health department and county physician have our best
interests at heart in making recommendations and providing guidance for our com-
munity. These are our own local experts who are a reliable source of information as we
make our individual health decisions.”
Those local experts, notably Dr. Eric Lamb, the county’s public health offi cer, have
urged county residents to be vaccinated.
Bowen, by contrast, uses his letter, which he addresses to Brown, to castigate the
governor for “overreaching mandates,” “bullying threats,” “mindless orders” and “mind-
less dictates.” Bowen accuses Brown of caring “nothing about our children or the people
of Eastern Oregon.”
Bowen does, however, refer to Brown as “ma’am,” an ostensible courtesy that seems
not merely out of place, but downright silly, in the context of his otherwise nasty screed.
Ash, by contrast, seeks not to infl ame the divisions that the pandemic, and Brown’s
executive orders, have spawned.
“As Sheriff, I represent everyone, and I hate to see how residents are being divided
over these issues,” Ash wrote. “I believe that in spite of our differing viewpoints we all
want to do what is best for our community. We breathe the same air. We visit the same
stores. Our children go to the same schools. We are all still in this together. I ask that
we don’t attack those whose decisions may be different than ours, and to please take
responsibility for staying home when you are sick. Real people around the world and in
our own community have lost loved ones or are experiencing long-term health effects.
My thoughts and prayers go out to them.”
It’s no great feat to write a letter criticizing the governor.
Writing a letter to your constituents that urges them to be compassionate and care-
ful requires more circumspection, more thought.
Sheriff Travis Ash deserves considerable credit for writing such a letter, and intro-
ducing a welcome tone of moderation into an atmosphere of anger and bitterness.
— Jayson Jacoby, Baker City Herald editor
Your views
City shouldn’t use tax
money for a lawsuit
Baker City is in state-
wide news yet again. This
time, we’re going to sue
the governor. At taxpayer’s
expense?
I got a bone to pick
about that. If you want to
sue, it needs to be fi nanced
by private donations from
interested parties. No need
to be picking the taxpayer’s
pocket for what is essen-
tially a private agenda
and does not represent the
beliefs of everyone in town.
Cause there are two tribes
in Baker City nowadays.
Split along political beliefs.
With one party living in
denial of both the virus
and the science needed to
fi ght it.
I would say the Republi-
can party, but the Republi-
can party is dead ... Killed
by pod people who call
themselves Republicans
but are in reality followers
of Donald Trump. It’s the
Trump party now. If there’s
any true Republicans left
out there, you better start
pushing back ...
And fi nally.
If the town council
spent as much time fi ght-
ing the virus as they do
state government, we
might actually move for-
ward in this pandemic and
make these restrictions go
away ...
Through science, not
lawsuits.
Dan Collins
Baker City
Three recent letters
were a breath of
fresh air
I want to give a huge
Thank You to Mary
Tomlinson, Rick Rienks
and Ritha Wilcox for
their letters to the editor
published Aug. 28. Finally
a breath of fresh air from
Letters to the editor
• We welcome letters on any issue of public
interest. Customer complaints about
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• The Baker City Herald will not knowingly
print false or misleading claims. However,
we cannot verify the accuracy of all
statements in letters to the editor.
• Writers are limited to one letter every
15 days.
• The writer must sign the letter and
three people, only one of
them I know personally. I
have had different people
from time to time ask me
to write more letters, and
I always answer the same.
“You get tired of talking
to a tree or a brick wall,”
and that is why I pretty
much keep to myself in my
golden years. However as
of late I read what some of
our so-called community
leaders pass on as their
warped sense of truth and
expect any intelligent per-
son to agree with them.
Now today my faith has
been somewhat restored
with just three letters
which I would encourage
all citizens to read. Now
I’ll go back to my garden
patio which is always
refreshing to the mind,
fl owers, birds and solitude.
Peace and love to all of you
who still believe in science.
Bill Ward
Baker City
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Mail: To the Editor, Baker City Herald,
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Email: news@bakercityherald.com
Student laments what she’s missed during pandemic
By Sidhi Dhanda
I don’t know what most of the
kids in my grade look like. I’ve
never gone to a high school dance.
My last “regular” school year
began in the fall of 2018; that was
seventh grade. This week, I start
10th grade.
I have watched many movies
about high school. Not one was
about a kid eating by themselves
at a desk while another student 6
feet away also eats alone. And I’ve
yet to see a movie about students
who are only allowed into school
every other day.
On a Friday in March 2020,
my French teacher looked up
from her computer and said we
wouldn’t be coming to school on
Monday. My fi rst thought was,
I hope this lasts for two weeks
instead of just one. I could use a
vacation.
Adults told me school would
be back in a week, maybe two.
Now, 18 months and two unusual
school years later, I am looking
for the stash of masks I wasn’t
supposed to need for sophomore
year.
This past school year I was
scheduled to attend school in-
person every other day between
September and April. But there
was not a lot of consistency.
School sometimes would go virtu-
al for a few days, a teacher would
be out, or schedules would change
because of positive coronavirus
cases or exposures, or updated
regulations from the Centers for
Disease Control and Prevention,
state or school district.
My in-person school days start-
ed with me putting on the mask
that I would wear until 4 p.m.
I got on the bus at 6:46 a.m.
Even in a Massachusetts winter,
my bus still had to have all the
windows open. I was not allowed
to sit with anyone, so I listened to
Spotify to pass the time.
My fi rst class began with the
national anthem and the Pledge
of Allegiance over the PA system,
and then the speaker would
remind me to sanitize and wash
my hands.
Classes were quiet. I don’t
think anyone knew how to act.
There was no chatter before or
after class, just silence. We didn’t
have lockers and we weren’t al-
lowed to hang out in the hall-
ways. There were school offi cials
stationed around the building to
make sure we complied.
More than once I would be
looking forward to seeing a friend
but would get to school and that
person wouldn’t be there. Those
who tested positive for the virus,
or were close contacts of someone
who had, had to either quaran-
tine or show negative tests to
come back to school.
If a teacher had to stay home,
I had to spend that class period
in study hall instead. A few times
there were so many teachers out
that more study hall space had
to be created to accommodate all
the students whose classes were
missing a teacher.
I went back in person full time
in April. A friend and I made a
bet about how many coronavirus
cases there would be in the fi rst
week. I won. I guessed there
would be at least 15 cases. We hit
that by Wednesday. Fortunately,
cases dropped after a few weeks.
That fi rst day with all stu-
dents back, the number of people
in the building doubled, class
sizes doubled, and space between
desks halved. This followed all
COVID-19 protocols, but it was
still scary. Going to school meant
the possibility of getting seriously
ill. The good thing was the eerie
silence in the building disap-
peared. Talking was back.
The COVID-19 pandemic has
robbed me of memories. I worked
so hard in eighth grade French
class, and it took away my spring
class trip to Quebec. It canceled
my eighth grade graduation trip
to Washington. I didn’t get a
proper middle school graduation.
Losing the chance to make
those memories was awful, but
the day-to-day protocols in high
school felt worse.
At robotics, I had to space
6 feet out from my teammates
while working on a robot that
was 18 inches tall and wide. One
person would go to the robot and
the others would step away. Jazz
band rehearsal took up the entire
auditorium — we weren’t allowed
to sit next to one another, so we
had to spread out to play.
I wasn’t allowed to high-fi ve
other teammates at cross-country
practice after a long run or chal-
lenging workout. At the begin-
ning of softball season, I had to
wear a mask underneath my
catcher’s helmet.
Hanging out with friends was
entering the local cafe two at a
time, ordering a muffi n, walking
to the town commons, and eating
while sitting in a circle 6 feet
apart from one another.
I am not anti-mask or anti-
vaccine. I know life can go back to
when there was no fear of getting
sick, no masks and no social
distancing. We have vaccines that
allow for this.
I’m about to return to school
in person every day, hopefully for
the entire school year. As of now
my school is not mandating vac-
cines, but my state just required
that masks be worn indoors until
at least Oct. 1. For now, the only
certainty I have about my sopho-
more year is that the rules will
keep on changing.
Adults tell me that the way
my generation is handling the
pandemic is inspiring. That’s a
wonderful compliment. But I’d
rather have my regular life back.
Sidhi Dhanda is about to
start her sophomore year at
Hopkinton High School in
Hopkinton, Massachusetts.