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Roots of Unity by Mike Allen, Guild President |
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Mike Allen,
President, |
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MYOPIA |
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My father's genealogy features several unsavory characters that perhaps I will discuss some other time. My mother's ancestry, however, is chock full of respectable (even boring) middle-class citizens. Her parents in particular were models of civic virtue, what with her mother being active in a host of groups including the local and California PTA, and her father likewise a joiner and even serving during the mid-1940s on the Montebello city council. I was close to my maternal grandmother, and among the many gifts she passed on (first to her daughter and then to me) was her skill as a parliamentarian. In part as a tribute to Nana, I have been threatening all year to devote some Guild meeting time to a mini-review of parliamentary procedure. I guess boring runs in the family. However, it is my maternal grandfather who inspired this column. He died when I was 7 years old, but I have fond memories of his dignified air and gentle ways (in his later years, he even looked like Gandhi). Manager of a small office, he was recruited as a city council candidate in part because he could attract votes from his neighbors in the newly-built Bella Vista subdivision on the Montebello—East L.A. border. However, though I didn't leave Montebello for good until 1988, and my parents didn't until a couple of years ago, it wasn't because we were considered one of the leading families in town. In fact, the awful truth is that in the late 40s, my grandfather was recalled from office. Was the cause some scandal? Could Grampa have been corrupt? Was this an early example of McCarthyism? Reading about his tenure from microfiche copies of the Montebello News one summer wasn't that exciting—almost nothing but unanimous votes on tedious infrastructure and zoning motions year after year. Far more fascinating was learning that Grant Rae park, nearest to my childhood home, was named after a real guy whose plane was shot down over Palau in 1944. His prowess as an airman had made him a local hero, and all were sure he would easily find a bride after the war and become a pillar of our community. The shock of the initial headline, the hopeful tone of the subsequent ones as the search for his parachute continued, the eventual resignation that he was gone— a mini-epic. But Grampa was still just plugging away. And then, like a personal touchstone, there it was. On June 10, 1947, California Governor Earl Warren signed into law the Air Pollution Control Act, authorizing the creation of an Air Pollution Control District in every county of the state, and the L.A. County APCD was the first entity of its kind established in the nation. Discouraging the backyard incineration of rubbish was one of their first moves, and cities throughout the county worked to develop alternatives. In almost no time, Grampa and all four of his fellow councilmen were recalled for outlawing backyard incineration and creating a municipal trash collection service. Demagogues "tarred and feathered" them for imposing a service fee on "hardworking GIs and their families" when everybody knew that trash burning was just fine. Yep, myopic dimwits under a "no new taxes" banner had dumped my grandfather for trying to improve the environment. How much deeper my kinship with him grew at that moment! How many times in my life had I been nonplussed by the popularity of similar positions? As I see the stinginess with which contemporary politicians approach investment in public goods, the rapidity with which the dollar's value has evaporated over the last couple of years, and the new lows to which our national credibility and influence are sinking, I share my grandfather's bewilderment. How can our fellow citizens act in such greedy, short-sighted, and ultimately self-defeating ways? Do they want to guarantee that the 20th was the not only the first American Century, but also the last??? Of course, Grampa was eventually proven right. Those elected to replace him soon enough fell into squabbling amongst themselves, and it wasn't long before municipal trash collection became a fixture in Montebello and throughout the Southland. My hope is that voters in this state can likewise find a way to take the long view and think about the kind of California they want for their grandchildren. I hope they can find a way to ignore the divisive national debates that focus on arguing over the "values one would be willing to die for" and instead focus on building a society filled with lives worth living. In the long run, reality may force folks out of their denial, but I worry that by then permanent damage will be done. We have many urgent missions. & |
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