The Danger of Clear-Cuts

The Saturday March 26 edition of the Seattle Times reports another disturbing case of trees being
clear-cut. Read the Times story here.

This one didn't happen in the jungles of Brazil; or Oso, WA; or a billionaire's private island... but on a full acre in the heart of Seattle.

One hundred fifty three trees, mostly big-leaf maples, were illegally cut in a West Seattle green belt and slide zone. But of course now there's an enhanced view of Seattle's skyline for a suspiciously near homeowner.

So a "round up the usual suspects" call went out. Alas it appears the "perp" still has a good chance of skating. Even sadder, there is a significantly increased threat of slides and property damage.

As Seattle's forestry manager points in the news article: "Trees provide wildlife habitat, combat air pollution and help stabilize slopes by managing surface water."

After decades of devastating slides and bluff erosion in Seattle and elsewhere, this should be a cautionary tale for every community, including Cape George.

But permits are required in Cape George to cut trees so there must be some level of due diligence, right? Not so much. Recently, Cape George's manager stated he couldn't recall  "ever denying a tree cutting request".

On Sunset Blvd for instance, we've seen trees on banks -- both on the waterfront and elsewhere -- cut with impunity. Trees are protected by Cape George covenants but that matters little if cutting them comes without a speed bump  from a manager who can't or won't say "no".

Worse, if someone's trees are ruining your damn view, you may be able to coax Cape George's manager, to issue a "hedge" violation. Then you'll likely hear the chains firing  up again... See here for details of a recent case on Sunset Blvd.

But back to concerns of the waterfront bluff erosion that's been worsening the last few years. Take a walk on the beach to see what's afoot... or awash. Watch your step. Lots of tree-fall will block your path. Overhead, some scarily leaning trees hang on by a thread.

Has there been any engagement on these issues by Cape George's Board, or the Environmental Committee?  What do experts recommend?  Are
replacement plantings even recommended when trees are cut? Will a few sprigs of ground cover mitigate the loss of a tree?

Another concerning incident. Not long ago, several mature trees on the hill by the waterfront park were cut down. You'll see them -- or what's left of them -- on Colman Dr. as it climbs past the park. The stumps provide a visual, if very ugly, reminder.

As I recall, there was no mention in the newsletter about why the trees were cut nor any report of a plan to mitigate water runoff on that very steep site. But why wasn't there a plan?

Within a season or so after the trees were cut there was a washout and damage to the park's entry road after a heavy rainstorm. Was this very clear risk of more water runoff and erosion not foreseen? Was the permit just rubber-stamped? Or do "climate deniers" simply claim that cutting trees on the adjacent hillside had no likely impact...

Sadly, it appears there's a corporate agenda in place. "Cut permits" are a joke. Tree-protecting clauses in Cape George's covenants are as well. They are either ignored or subverted to appease the agenda of those who demand views. If this looks like the rant of a conspiracy theorist, see more evidence here and here.

At the very least, the Board should study and proactively inform the community about the risks. Add some recommendations for preserving bluffs in the official documents; publish regular tips in the
newsletter; toughen the permitting process.  Schedule or re-schedule a Cape George University talk by a geologist, arborist, etc.

Business as usual isn't sustainable.

A Tribute to Edmond Blau

It's nearly Passover and it reminds me that it's been just over a year, in Jan 2015, that Ed passed away. I'm not religious and know little about Passover. But I feel an affinity for it -- it's  suggestive of hope and resilience and safety.  And it fits Ed's life.

Some may remember him. He was a sturdy bear of a guy who lived here on Sunset Blvd for almost ten years. After I moved here, I often saw him walking rapidly up the street, always with a hat,  and with what seemed like a strong determination to be somewhere or find something. I wondered who he was...

I finally met him in the park one summer. Almost eighty then but certainly not looking frail, he had a backpack and asked if I knew where Beckett Point was.

I pointed down the beach. Inwardly I shuddered. It's about a five mile round trip hike and looked like an obstacle course of fallen trees due to bluff erosion.

He must have sensed my concern and suddenly we started to talk about other things. In a stream of consciousness kind of a way, he mentioned being Dutch. After hearing my Dutch surname, he spoke a little Dutch which I tried to echo to his amusement.

The Dutch it turns out are very sensitive about the pronunciation of their words. Ed explained they caught many German paratroopers dressed in stolen Dutch uniforms during the invasion because of the difficult hard "k" sound that Germans would mangle. They just couldn't get "Scheveningen" right. 

I tried to pronounce it. Nope!  Ed, with a slight smile , promised not to "turn me in".

He related he and his mother had been in hiding during the war. Not immediately after the invasion though. Most couldn't believe the horror to come. It came slowly at first then accelerated quickly. They endured horrific prejudice and a relentless set of decrees as the noose tightened. 

Signs forbidding Jews appeared overnight. Dismissals from jobs, confiscation of homes, cars, and eventually bicycles were next. Obligatory stars had to be worn on clothing. Then came arrests and call-ups for "relocation".  Two years after the invasion,  it was time to disappear.  Ed was nine years old.

An Uncle in the Dutch resistance helped them go underground in the nick of time. Mass deportations had begun. For three years until Canadian tanks rolled into Utrecht, they stayed hidden passing through a dozen or so safe houses in the process.

After the war,  they emigrated to Philadelphia. Ed went on to graduate Phi Beta Kappa from the University of Pennsylvania. He won a full scholarship to West Virginia University medical school. 

Ed had planned to become a psychiatrist. But he never attended West Virginia.  He had lost confidence that he could do well enough. Maybe  post-traumatic stress, common to Holocaust survivors, had set in and robbed him of what he wanted so badly.

He went to the West Coast, got an MSW from Berkeley. But, he never became a social worker either. Instead he was  a longshoreman in San Francisco and later L.A. for over thirty years. One who read the New York Times on his lunch hour. 

After retirement, he fled California, found Port Townsend, and relocated here.  He read, walked, worked out at the gym, and gave to others. A top contributor to Habitat For Humanity, he found their efforts inspirational. "It restores my faith in humanity", he told a news reporter.
 
Then just a few  short years ago Ed was diagnosed with Alzheimers. It crept in slowly. He forgot little things. Then one day in a panic, he couldn't remember where he parked his car.  Details of his life in hiding and buried pain were now locked away. 

But, he continued reading avidly, including the daily New York Times.  He continued to walk and work out.  A trainer at Evergreen Fitness was impressed with his strength and tough regimen even as his condition worsened. He still loved music. He smiled at jokes.

In a time where so much seems to be going wrong in the world, Ed's story still resonates. It's hard to imagine the constant fear, the enforced stillness, and isolation of his childhood. Yet  he didn't emerge embittered or reclusive. 

He didn't give in to the disease either. Even as he battled, he remained the cultured, erudite European gentleman who looked for the best in everyone .

I will always remember him as  a fighter, a strong "tough guy" with a heart of gold.  He was my friend. I miss him.