Residents campaign against city's homeless camp site clenches city council second look
By Anne Scheck
Trammart News Service
A neighborhood’s groundswell of protest over the city’s placement of a homeless camp in the community’s open-space area appears to have clinched an important step toward relocation away from Polk and Ash streets – it is going to be brought again before the city council.
“The city and council heard your concerns, and we are making plans for future discussions which will include the community,” stated City Councilor Shannon Corr, who posted on the Trammart News Facebook page this past week. Although multiple failed attempts were made to reach the city communications director, Emmanuel Goicochea, other city staff confirmed the issue will likely be an agenda item in the next few weeks.
“I am cautiously optimistic,” said Teresa Alvarez, a longtime resident of Independence whose mother lives by Polk Park. “It needs to be revisited – and everyone should have input,” said Stephanie Vasilis, who has lived in the area for six years and often takes her children to Polk Park to play on the lot.
Alvarez credited City Councilor Dawn Roden for rallying the city council. Roden voiced support for moving the camp at the last city council meeting, and later assured members of the group she was working to try to get the matter back on a city docket.
The news arrived after the “Polk Park Neighborhood,” as several of the residents are now calling themselves, mounted a petition campaign for the move, garnering more than 200 signatures.
The group also passed out flyers last night, following a meet-up in the park itself.
The Polk Park neighbors have brought higher visibility to the issue with their activism. Their efforts were announced last night at a well-attended meeting of the Independence Airpark Homeowners Association.
Three organizers of the effort – Teresa Alvarez, Liza Reyna-Skipper and Stephanie Vasilis – led the residents into what Alvarez confirmed was the formation of a tighter-knit group with a more solid identity as a neighborhood.
The corner lot has been used as a soccer field and play area for many years, since it was donated to the city by a former timber company, which put restrictions on its use barring the sale of the and limits on building at the site. ▪
By Anne Scheck
Trammart News Service
A neighborhood’s groundswell of protest over the city’s placement of a homeless camp in the community’s open-space area appears to have clinched an important step toward relocation away from Polk and Ash streets – it is going to be brought again before the city council.
“The city and council heard your concerns, and we are making plans for future discussions which will include the community,” stated City Councilor Shannon Corr, who posted on the Trammart News Facebook page this past week. Although multiple failed attempts were made to reach the city communications director, Emmanuel Goicochea, other city staff confirmed the issue will likely be an agenda item in the next few weeks.
“I am cautiously optimistic,” said Teresa Alvarez, a longtime resident of Independence whose mother lives by Polk Park. “It needs to be revisited – and everyone should have input,” said Stephanie Vasilis, who has lived in the area for six years and often takes her children to Polk Park to play on the lot.
Alvarez credited City Councilor Dawn Roden for rallying the city council. Roden voiced support for moving the camp at the last city council meeting, and later assured members of the group she was working to try to get the matter back on a city docket.
The news arrived after the “Polk Park Neighborhood,” as several of the residents are now calling themselves, mounted a petition campaign for the move, garnering more than 200 signatures.
The group also passed out flyers last night, following a meet-up in the park itself.
The Polk Park neighbors have brought higher visibility to the issue with their activism. Their efforts were announced last night at a well-attended meeting of the Independence Airpark Homeowners Association.
Three organizers of the effort – Teresa Alvarez, Liza Reyna-Skipper and Stephanie Vasilis – led the residents into what Alvarez confirmed was the formation of a tighter-knit group with a more solid identity as a neighborhood.
The corner lot has been used as a soccer field and play area for many years, since it was donated to the city by a former timber company, which put restrictions on its use barring the sale of the and limits on building at the site. ▪
Central 13J teachers support school bond but some in community have doubts
By Anne Scheck
Trammart News Service
The Central School District’s $90 million bond was officially endorsed this past week by the CSD teachers’ union but, at a town hall at Independence Elementary School last Saturday, there was some harsh criticism of the proposed measure, as well.
But the district’s employee support for passage on the November ballot was encouraging.
“Nearly all the licensed people who communicated about this issue recognize the need to update and repair our infrastructure.,” confirmed Nathan Muti, president of the Central Education Association.
Most teachers who were asked about whether the action indicates bond approval said they consider it a toss-up – voter turnout for the coming election will be high, but it remains to be seen whether that will mean a favorable tip toward approval.
At the town hall in the IES library this past weekend, a former member of the school budget committee, Royal Johnson, expressed a desire voiced by some other residents, according to random interviews conducted over the last few days.
He said the bond should be smaller in both scope and monetary amount, with very specific goals. The bond should include mandatory provisions for the revenue that’s generated – to be applied to infrastructure demands, such as leaky roofs and other building-related areas that need immediate attention, Johnson said.
Muti seemed to concur about the need for solid goal setting but disagreed with the idea of a scaled-back bond. “We educators spend a large part of our days in school district buildings, so we understand the need for a bond this size,” Muti said.
“It's no surprise that educators are overwhelmingly supportive of improving and repairing existing infrastructure as well as building a new grade school. We are excited with the prospect of building something that could very well last 100 years,” he added.
However, Johnson, a former Monmouth city councilor, observed that "all of this seems very non-specific, there should be a definitive list for voters."
Muti appeared to affirm that, as well. “Many of us are skeptical about the district leadership being able to successfully implement taxpayer money on such long-ranged projects,” he said. “We hope that the oversight committee for this bond project will add the expertise and transparency needed to successfully improve our school district,” he said.
If the bond passes, it would increase the cost by only 5-6 cents per 1,000 of assessed value over what property owners paid in 2023-2024 – but that was the year of the "tax surprise, " Johnson pointed out.
That hike caused a public uproar over the unexpected escalation to $3.70 per $1,000 assessed value, he stressed. In contrast, this year's tax bill – which will be mailed out in coming weeks – will be at $1.88 per $1,000 assessed value, thanks to the budget committee's reduction following the resident outcry last fall.
But what about the following year, when the increase will hit taxpayers? Johnson observed that the cost of the bond would be tough for many on fixed incomes, as well as families already struggling in the current economy.
"I don't think it is right to say 'Well, you are going to pay $3.75 and that is only 6 cents more' because this is based on a historic high – not the amount this year, or the amount paid in many previous years," Johnson said.
However, on a busy Saturday in downtown Independence following the town hall, shoppers who were queried said they want to see school infrastructure fixed – without waiting for a bond to be revised. “You want kids to be safe, you want them to be comfortable when they are trying to learn,” said one resident who has grandchildren in the area.
Several said they were persuaded to vote “yes” by the fact that the district plans to have an “oversight committee” of local citizenry to make sure the funds are used wisely, in ways that set well-considered priorities for each school building.
At the IES town hall, Superintendent Jennifer Kubista suggested that Johnson might want to sign up to be a member of that oversight committee, if the bond passes. “I would encourage you to do that,” she said. ▪
By Anne Scheck
Trammart News Service
The Central School District’s $90 million bond was officially endorsed this past week by the CSD teachers’ union but, at a town hall at Independence Elementary School last Saturday, there was some harsh criticism of the proposed measure, as well.
But the district’s employee support for passage on the November ballot was encouraging.
“Nearly all the licensed people who communicated about this issue recognize the need to update and repair our infrastructure.,” confirmed Nathan Muti, president of the Central Education Association.
Most teachers who were asked about whether the action indicates bond approval said they consider it a toss-up – voter turnout for the coming election will be high, but it remains to be seen whether that will mean a favorable tip toward approval.
At the town hall in the IES library this past weekend, a former member of the school budget committee, Royal Johnson, expressed a desire voiced by some other residents, according to random interviews conducted over the last few days.
He said the bond should be smaller in both scope and monetary amount, with very specific goals. The bond should include mandatory provisions for the revenue that’s generated – to be applied to infrastructure demands, such as leaky roofs and other building-related areas that need immediate attention, Johnson said.
Muti seemed to concur about the need for solid goal setting but disagreed with the idea of a scaled-back bond. “We educators spend a large part of our days in school district buildings, so we understand the need for a bond this size,” Muti said.
“It's no surprise that educators are overwhelmingly supportive of improving and repairing existing infrastructure as well as building a new grade school. We are excited with the prospect of building something that could very well last 100 years,” he added.
However, Johnson, a former Monmouth city councilor, observed that "all of this seems very non-specific, there should be a definitive list for voters."
Muti appeared to affirm that, as well. “Many of us are skeptical about the district leadership being able to successfully implement taxpayer money on such long-ranged projects,” he said. “We hope that the oversight committee for this bond project will add the expertise and transparency needed to successfully improve our school district,” he said.
If the bond passes, it would increase the cost by only 5-6 cents per 1,000 of assessed value over what property owners paid in 2023-2024 – but that was the year of the "tax surprise, " Johnson pointed out.
That hike caused a public uproar over the unexpected escalation to $3.70 per $1,000 assessed value, he stressed. In contrast, this year's tax bill – which will be mailed out in coming weeks – will be at $1.88 per $1,000 assessed value, thanks to the budget committee's reduction following the resident outcry last fall.
But what about the following year, when the increase will hit taxpayers? Johnson observed that the cost of the bond would be tough for many on fixed incomes, as well as families already struggling in the current economy.
"I don't think it is right to say 'Well, you are going to pay $3.75 and that is only 6 cents more' because this is based on a historic high – not the amount this year, or the amount paid in many previous years," Johnson said.
However, on a busy Saturday in downtown Independence following the town hall, shoppers who were queried said they want to see school infrastructure fixed – without waiting for a bond to be revised. “You want kids to be safe, you want them to be comfortable when they are trying to learn,” said one resident who has grandchildren in the area.
Several said they were persuaded to vote “yes” by the fact that the district plans to have an “oversight committee” of local citizenry to make sure the funds are used wisely, in ways that set well-considered priorities for each school building.
At the IES town hall, Superintendent Jennifer Kubista suggested that Johnson might want to sign up to be a member of that oversight committee, if the bond passes. “I would encourage you to do that,” she said. ▪
Independence City Recorder Karin Johnson receives top recognition in state
By Anne Scheck
Trammart News Service
An Editorial Reminiscence
It was a dark and stormy night. Or maybe not. But it was November.
A planning commission meeting was being held.
It was the evening I lost my temper. Thank goodness the city recorder kept hers. Of course, Independence City Recorder Karin Johnson can always be counted on to be the steady force in the room – constant, unflappable, efficient.
Even when her desk was thumped so loudly with a notebook (by me) that it sounded like a small clap of thunder. I remember Johnson registered a slight flinch that night. Then she asked me what I needed.
Is it any surprise at all that she has just been named the 2024 City Recorder of the Year by the Oregon Association of Municipal Recorders? Johnson has always had that semi-magical quality that some special people possess – the ability to create a sense of order simply with her presence. She’s retiring at the end of December, and you know how they always say everyone can be replaced? Well, she can’t.
At meeting after meeting over the years, including some that droned on w-a-y too long, she was always chipper and energetically taking notes.
During the pandemic, we both sat out in the foyer as the mayor held the meeting all by himself in council chambers, a covid precaution. When members of the public showed up to testify, there we would all be, masked, sitting or standing in the little lobby. I once asked Johnson if she ever found the situation irksome. “No,” she said. “Why?”
That lack of irritation also was in evidence during task force hearings at the capital, when a panel of experts convened frequently to try to establish an office of public records advocate seven years ago. I went to it as often as I could.
They called two city recorders to answer a slew of questions. Johnson was one of them, handling all inquiries with dispatch and eloquence. In contrast, her counterpart spoke of the hardships of the job – rushing to fill all those public records requests, so inundated with the tasks of generating agendas and the production of minutes.
A while later, when a group from the Independence airpark expressed a general mistrust of city hall to me, every last one of them told me there was one person in local government administration who was unfailingly trustworthy. It was Johnson, of course.
A short time later, Trammart News honored her with the Golden Lark award, for outstanding civic service. Naturally, she donated every last penny of the cash that came with it.
So, on a November night when I felt irate, she didn’t even respond, except for that flinch. And it made all the difference.
Here’s what happened: At the meeting, a commissioner asked the city planner about a subject she wanted to discuss – this added an unannounced agenda item to a meeting that had been publicly announced as a training session. This left out an important component, the public.
And what this commissioner did next appeared equally surprising – and seemed to have everyone’s blessing, including the city planner.
She said the churches downtown appeared to be failing to meet the rules of their conditional use permits. No other businesses were mentioned. But those churches needed watching; After all, more retail space was desired.
As this discussion unfolded, I felt red lava rising. Everyone knows about the division of law known as church and state, don’t they? But here they were, a whole passel of planning commissioners and the city planner wholly ignoring U.S. law, or so it seemed.
Their conclusion was to keep an eye on those churches!
I knew the general details of a special law called “The Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act,” which all city officials know as well – and probably better – than any reporter would, or so I presumed. The landmark law, passed years and years ago with bipartisan support, is pronounced "R-LOOPA," for the acronym RLUIPA.
RLUIPA basically says it is off-limits to target churches with zoning provisions unless all nearby businesses are included in the same regulatory scrutiny.
OK, I reasoned, maybe the churches weren’t living up to their conditional use permits – but we were coming out of a pandemic and, frankly, I didn’t think any other places on Main Street were meeting all of their intended obligations, either – and understandably so. There was a coronavirus we were all trying to avoid ...
I decided I couldn’t go on. I had broken a cardinal rule of my profession by getting mad, thumping Johnson’s desk, and so loudly. And why would I want to keep on reporting, anyway? Independence had a planning commission so steeped in prejudicial thinking that they were willing to break a federal law.
I contacted a mentor, back in Los Angeles, to give him the news. It was time to quit, I said. I wailed like a banshee. “They are violating RLUIPA,” I protested. “RLUIPA! It’s unbelievable.” Silence followed. For a moment I thought he and I had lost connection.
Then he asked: “How big did you say that town was?” I answered that it was approaching 10,000. Another moment of silence. Then he inquired: ”Has it occurred to you that the city staff and those other officials in the town that you’re covering simply don’t know about RLUIPA?” No, it hadn’t. This hadn’t occurred to me at all.
But I thought of the many times – too numerous to mention – that Johnson had gently nudged a commission chair into the correct protocol or politely reined in a wayward board, off on a procedurally improper tangent. So, I could accept that, yes, indeed, it did seem possible that RLUIPA was a foreign term to some.
After all, I knew somebody named Karin Johnson who’d sat through meetings buffering against potentially mistake-prone moves with her patience, keeping everything on track, even when a commission chair faltered.
So, I issued Johnson an apology about the table thump. She was very gracious.
And I stayed the course.
During the award presentation to Johnson, which was held recently in Pendleton at the conference of the Oregon Association of Municipal Recorders, the organization’s president, Nanci Sandoval, thanked Ms. Johnson for being “an inspirational leader, role model, beacon of hope, mentor, and, most importantly, a friend.”
I’d like to do so, as well. It won’t be the same without her. It really won’t. Some people aren't just missed, they are irreplaceable. They truly are. ▪
By Anne Scheck
Trammart News Service
An Editorial Reminiscence
It was a dark and stormy night. Or maybe not. But it was November.
A planning commission meeting was being held.
It was the evening I lost my temper. Thank goodness the city recorder kept hers. Of course, Independence City Recorder Karin Johnson can always be counted on to be the steady force in the room – constant, unflappable, efficient.
Even when her desk was thumped so loudly with a notebook (by me) that it sounded like a small clap of thunder. I remember Johnson registered a slight flinch that night. Then she asked me what I needed.
Is it any surprise at all that she has just been named the 2024 City Recorder of the Year by the Oregon Association of Municipal Recorders? Johnson has always had that semi-magical quality that some special people possess – the ability to create a sense of order simply with her presence. She’s retiring at the end of December, and you know how they always say everyone can be replaced? Well, she can’t.
At meeting after meeting over the years, including some that droned on w-a-y too long, she was always chipper and energetically taking notes.
During the pandemic, we both sat out in the foyer as the mayor held the meeting all by himself in council chambers, a covid precaution. When members of the public showed up to testify, there we would all be, masked, sitting or standing in the little lobby. I once asked Johnson if she ever found the situation irksome. “No,” she said. “Why?”
That lack of irritation also was in evidence during task force hearings at the capital, when a panel of experts convened frequently to try to establish an office of public records advocate seven years ago. I went to it as often as I could.
They called two city recorders to answer a slew of questions. Johnson was one of them, handling all inquiries with dispatch and eloquence. In contrast, her counterpart spoke of the hardships of the job – rushing to fill all those public records requests, so inundated with the tasks of generating agendas and the production of minutes.
A while later, when a group from the Independence airpark expressed a general mistrust of city hall to me, every last one of them told me there was one person in local government administration who was unfailingly trustworthy. It was Johnson, of course.
A short time later, Trammart News honored her with the Golden Lark award, for outstanding civic service. Naturally, she donated every last penny of the cash that came with it.
So, on a November night when I felt irate, she didn’t even respond, except for that flinch. And it made all the difference.
Here’s what happened: At the meeting, a commissioner asked the city planner about a subject she wanted to discuss – this added an unannounced agenda item to a meeting that had been publicly announced as a training session. This left out an important component, the public.
And what this commissioner did next appeared equally surprising – and seemed to have everyone’s blessing, including the city planner.
She said the churches downtown appeared to be failing to meet the rules of their conditional use permits. No other businesses were mentioned. But those churches needed watching; After all, more retail space was desired.
As this discussion unfolded, I felt red lava rising. Everyone knows about the division of law known as church and state, don’t they? But here they were, a whole passel of planning commissioners and the city planner wholly ignoring U.S. law, or so it seemed.
Their conclusion was to keep an eye on those churches!
I knew the general details of a special law called “The Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act,” which all city officials know as well – and probably better – than any reporter would, or so I presumed. The landmark law, passed years and years ago with bipartisan support, is pronounced "R-LOOPA," for the acronym RLUIPA.
RLUIPA basically says it is off-limits to target churches with zoning provisions unless all nearby businesses are included in the same regulatory scrutiny.
OK, I reasoned, maybe the churches weren’t living up to their conditional use permits – but we were coming out of a pandemic and, frankly, I didn’t think any other places on Main Street were meeting all of their intended obligations, either – and understandably so. There was a coronavirus we were all trying to avoid ...
I decided I couldn’t go on. I had broken a cardinal rule of my profession by getting mad, thumping Johnson’s desk, and so loudly. And why would I want to keep on reporting, anyway? Independence had a planning commission so steeped in prejudicial thinking that they were willing to break a federal law.
I contacted a mentor, back in Los Angeles, to give him the news. It was time to quit, I said. I wailed like a banshee. “They are violating RLUIPA,” I protested. “RLUIPA! It’s unbelievable.” Silence followed. For a moment I thought he and I had lost connection.
Then he asked: “How big did you say that town was?” I answered that it was approaching 10,000. Another moment of silence. Then he inquired: ”Has it occurred to you that the city staff and those other officials in the town that you’re covering simply don’t know about RLUIPA?” No, it hadn’t. This hadn’t occurred to me at all.
But I thought of the many times – too numerous to mention – that Johnson had gently nudged a commission chair into the correct protocol or politely reined in a wayward board, off on a procedurally improper tangent. So, I could accept that, yes, indeed, it did seem possible that RLUIPA was a foreign term to some.
After all, I knew somebody named Karin Johnson who’d sat through meetings buffering against potentially mistake-prone moves with her patience, keeping everything on track, even when a commission chair faltered.
So, I issued Johnson an apology about the table thump. She was very gracious.
And I stayed the course.
During the award presentation to Johnson, which was held recently in Pendleton at the conference of the Oregon Association of Municipal Recorders, the organization’s president, Nanci Sandoval, thanked Ms. Johnson for being “an inspirational leader, role model, beacon of hope, mentor, and, most importantly, a friend.”
I’d like to do so, as well. It won’t be the same without her. It really won’t. Some people aren't just missed, they are irreplaceable. They truly are. ▪
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