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Appropriately enough, the water board members had been provided big pitchers of iced water, and they poured and drank water lustily while discussing its scarcity. Some of the members I knew by name or reputation, but with the exception of Esselma
Many people had already assembled, and most of the available folding chairs were filled. I spotted an empty chair and claimed it, wondering what I was doing here. Some attendees had briefcases or legal pads. The man next to me had written out a commentary in longhand, which he seemed to be refining while we waited for the meeting to begin. I turned and checked the rows behind me, all of which were occupied. Through the plate-glass window, I could see additional people seated at the picnic table or lounging against the ornamental fence. Speakers on the patio allowed the overflow crowd to hear the proceedings.
Copies of the agenda were stacked up front, and I left my seat briefly so that I could snag one for myself. I gathered that members of the audience would be free to address the board. To that end, requests were filled out and submitted. There were many consultations back and forth, people who seemed to know one another, some in small groups representing a particular petition. I wasn't even sure what the issues were, and the agenda I sca
At 7:03 the meeting was called to order, with a roll call of board members present. Minutes of the previous meeting were read and approved without modification. Various items on the consent agenda were approved without discussion. Much rustling and coughing and throat clearing throughout. Everyone seemed to speak in a monotone, so that every subject was reduced to its most boring components. Service policies were discussed among the board members in the sort of dry style reserved for congressional filibusters. If anything was actually being accomplished, it was lost on me. What struck me as curious was that Clark Esselma
One by one members of the audience were able to approach the podium, addressing the board members with prepared statements. These they read aloud in their best singsong public speaking voices, managing somehow to deliver their comments without any spontaneity, humor, or warmth. As in church, the combination of body heat and hot air was bringing the surrounding air temperature up to anesthetic levels. For someone as sleep-deprived as I'd been for the last five days, it was hard to keep from toppling off my chair sideways.
I'm ashamed to confess I actually nodded off once, a sort of dip in consciousness that I became aware of only because my head dropped. It must have happened again, because just as I began to enjoy a much needed snooze, I was jerked upright by a heated verbal exchange. Belatedly, I realized I'd missed the opening round. '
Clark Esselma
The man he was addressing had to be John "Stubby" Stockton. He was maybe five feet tall and very heavyset, with a round baby face and dark thi
"Hogwash! This is about you making money, you damn son of a bitch. What do you care about the citizens of this county? By the time this… this abomination comes to pass, you'll be well out of it. Counting your profits while the rest of us are stuck with this eyesore for centuries to come."
Like lovers, Clark Esselma
Stockton's voice was syrupy with loathing. "Sir, at the risk of offending, let me ask you this. What have you done to generate employment or housing or financial security for the citizens of Santa Teresa County? Would you care to answer that?"
"Don't change the subject-"
"Because the answer is nothing. You haven't contributed a stick, not a nickel or a brick to the fiscal health and well-being of the community you live in."
"That is untrue… that is untrue!" Esselma
Stockton forged on. "You've blocked economic growth, you've obstructed employment opportunities. You've denounced development, impeded all progress. And why not? You've got yours. What do you care what happens to the rest of us? We can all go jump in the ocean as far as you're concerned."
"You're damn right you can jump in the ocean! Go jump in the ocean."
"Gentlemen!" The president had risen.
"Well, let me tell you something. You'll be long gone and the opportunity for growth will be long gone, and who's going to pay the price for your failure of imagination?"
"Gentlemen! Gentlemen!''
The president was banging his gavel on the table without any particular effectiveness. Serena was on her feet, but her father was waving her aside with the kind of peremptory motion that had probably intimidated her from childhood. I saw her sink back down while he shouted, trembling, "Save your speeches for the Rotary, young man. I'm sick of listening to this self-serving poppycock. The truth is, you're in this for the almighty buck, and you know it. If you're so interested in growth and economic opportunity, then donate the land and all the profits you stand to make. Don't hide behind rhetoric-"
"You donate. Why don't you give something? You've got more than the rest of us put together. And don't talk to me about hiding behind rhetoric, you pompous ass…"
A uniformed security guard materialized at Stockton's side and took him by the elbow. Stockton shook him off, enraged, but a business associate appeared on the other side of him, and between the two of them he was eased out of the room. Esselma
In the general swell of side conversations that followed, I leaned over to the man next to me. "I hate to seem ignorant, but what was that about?"
"John Stockton's trying to get water permits for a big parcel of land he wants to turn around and sell to Marcus Petroleum."
"I thought stuff like that had to go through the county board of supervisors," I said.
"It does. It was approved last month by a five-oh vote on the condition that they use reclaimed water from the Colgate Water District. It looked like it was going to pass without opposition, but now Esselma
"But why all the heat?"
"Stockton's got some land the oil companies would love to have. All worthless without water. Esselma
I thought back to the phone call I'd overheard. Esselma
"You bet. Damn near succeeded, too. Now that he's back, he's using every ounce of influence to get the application turned down."