With only about a third of 2021 gone, Independence already has a
milestone to celebrate – and a reason to mourn. The Heritage Museum is scheduled to move into its new location soon, a refurbished building downtown. However, Olga the Osprey has disappeared from her nest, just as her mate Ollie did last year. As this river city continues the countdown to summer, other news is on the way, too.
A new housing subdivision. A 67-lot subdivision in west Independence by Talmadge Road got the stamp of approval from city planning commissioners recently – but not before the lack of a park with a play area became a point of discussion about the new neighborhood.
Without such a designated park, “I just worry that we lose the opportunity to make it a good neighborhood that has places for kids to be,” said Planning Commissioner Rebecca Jay, before the vote.
Seven acres of wetland will be left intact by the project – open space that was cited both by Fred Evander, city planner, and Gordon King, the developer, as preserving a large swath of the property. “We thought this really is an opportunity, one time, to get this much dedicated to a sort of centralized park area – or a master park – that I think is going to have a lot of potential,” said King, explaining that some of the wetland might be utilized as a playing field, for a sport like soccer.
Jay countered that “wetlands aren’t something that could be built on, anyway” due to laws protecting them. King answered that “even though we couldn’t have built on it, we certainly could have mitigated part of it.”
Under city code, a developer is required to donate slightly more than six percent of the land or to pay 13% of the land’s market value before being granted needed permits. In this case, the wetland was accepted by the city as the requisite land donation, Evander noted.
A “pocket park” suggested by Jay wasn’t immediately ruled out as a future addition. However, Planning Commissioner Kate Schwarzler said adding parks boils down to a matter of “budget constraint.” Though she expressed sympathy for the desire to have a park, city parks “are surprisingly expensive to put in,” she said.
And, despite the fact that the open space there is technically a wetland, it could still be a “great amenity for the neighborhood,” Schwarzler said.
The traffic plan also drew criticism – from Polk County Public Works’ director, Todd Whitaker. The traffic patterns, as presented to him, failed to take into account the probable southbound traffic on Talmadge Road, Whitaker asserted.
“I am concerned about impacts to the intersection of Stapleton/99W and Stapleton/Corvallis Road,” Whitaker wrote in a letter to the city staff. Evander told commissioners he felt the concern raised by Whitaker had been adequately addressed in the traffic study.
The wastewater from the new development, which eventually will go to the South Fork of Ash Creek, will travel by storm drain to the other side of 13th Street, said Steve Ward, the city’s engineer. Before flowing into a drainage ditch and into the creek, it will first be treated at a water-quality site along the way, he said.
When representatives of the Ash Creek Water Control District (ACWCD) were asked about this aspect of the project, Dan Farnworth, chair of ACWCD, responded that he hoped the developers and commissioners would take into account “flooding on Ash Creek, its repercussions and mitigations, particularly flood zones, swales, permeable surfaces, bank shaping and planting and other low-impact development.”
As the construction moves forward, some residents of Independence have expressed worry that they will lose what some regard as their city’s countryside along Talmadge Road.
However, Suzy Weston, whose property sits next to the new planned development, said she’s not going anywhere any time soon. Her ducks, chickens, cows and other farm animals, which can be seen wandering her acreage, will remain a sight for passengers in passing cars. “I want to stay here as long as I can,” she said.
Parking problems probed. As the Independence Landing apartments and townhomes at the riverfront fill up with occupants, the downtown parking squeeze threatens to create a challenge that cannot be ignored.
That was the general message earlier this year when Police Chief Robert Mason presented several proposed parking-code changes to the city council, prompting so many questions by councilors that the suggested revisions were postponed until this spring. Though currently there seems to be adequate public parking in some lots – the one at Riverview Park is hardly ever at capacity – the chief warned that’s likely to change in the near future.
That parking lot, along with the one behind the Elks Lodge on Main Street and the parking areas around the Independence Civic Center, may be impacted by new residents. “Looking forward, we are going to have parking issues in all three of those locations, we are certain, when all of the housing that’s going up down there is occupied,” he said.
City Councilor Dawn Hedrick-Roden agreed that one problem already is surfacing: sidewalk blockage by cars in driveways along Osprey Lane. She expressed uncertainty about how that situation could be rectified – the driveways along that
However, Osprey Lane is “not unique,” Mason pointed out. The same situation can be seen across town, in neighborhoods old and new. “We’ve done a lot of what we call education, to try to get people not to block sidewalks,” he said. “It really is dangerous to be blocking the pedestrian paths, forcing people either out into the roadway to walk or obstructing their ability to see.”
“I live in a new development and we already are having parking problems,” concurred Councilor Shannon Corr. There are multiple cars at many homes in her neighborhood, she said.
The downtown has several areas of public parking, including by the library, behind the old city hall and at the movie theater. However, the situation needs to be addressed, Mason said, adding that he planned to redouble efforts for public feedback on the matter.
Wildfires appear likely. A shift in climate – higher temperatures and lower moisture, compared with previous years – is creating conditions for possible wildfire outbreaks, which are anticipated earlier than ever. Additionally, the ice storm of this past winter increased the risk, too, according to Ben Stange, fire chief of Polk County Fire District No. 1.
Piles of dead branches strewn across the landscape provide dry "ladder fuel," which can enable fire to spread quickly into trees and across fields, he said.
Evidence of felled trees can be found in Ash Creek. Downed trees from the ice storm this winter have caused "clogs" in the waterway, perhaps most visibly at the 16th Street bridge on Gun Club Road and atRiverview Park. "It's a big jumble there," said Dan Farnworth, the chair of the Ash Creek Water Control District (ACWCD) at a meeting of the ACWCD board earlier this month.
For a potential forecast of wildfire incidence, Independence residents need look no further than their neighboring state to the south, Stange suggested. "California is a great indicator," he said. For instance, during a December three years ago, Stange was stunned to learn of a wildfire threat in California in the middle of winter. “This was the month that we sent wildfire crews to California, highlighting the fact that the west was no longer anticipating ‘fire season’ but transitioning to the reality that ‘fire season’ was essentially all year,” he said.
Now, in the mid-Willamette Valley, there are more frequent spring "burn bans," which prohibit using fire to destroy debris. These bans haven’t yet prohibited briquette-fueled barbecues or fires for warming and celebration purposes, Stange noted. However, this past April, such a ban was instituted – a seemingly unprecedented move in the Willamette Valley. "I have never heard of this before, as early as it happened," he said.
During both the ice storm and the wildfires near Salem last year, the
Independence Hotel proved a valuable resource for those displaced from homes and seeking shelter, Stange said. Recently, fire personnel utilized the apartments near the hotel for training purposes.
Preparation is key: The way a wildfire is fought has evolved into a fine-tuned process of determining defensibility, Stange explained. "We have extremely selective algorithms we have worked out," he said. Homes with metal roofs and lawns with less vegetation are more easily saved; Those with traditional roofing, with leaves in gutters and trees immediately next to the house are far less defensible, he said.
In a wind-fed fire, the crews are called upon to engage in such triage to preserve time and resources, he added.
The days of putting homes next to leafy woods may experience significant code changes, he predicted. "I think insurance companies may drive this (trend)," he said. "They will be on the forefront of coding changes" that will
help fire-proof homes and neighborhoods, he said.
Leadership changes at MINET. During Don Patten’s recent announcement of his pending retirement as general manager of MINET, he identified two current administrators there as part of the succession team. He plans to step down by year’s end.
P.J. Armstrong, director of operations for the municipal fiberoptic company, is his choice to take over as general manager; John Cooper, the present finance director, already has been tapped to move up to chief financial officer.
They’re only the first of several title changes that will be taking place at MINET, Patten said. All employees who have been working as customer service representatives will transition into a new category: customer support specialists. The positions will be officially re-named this July. The action is being taken after a failed attempt by Patten to secure bonuses for MINET personnel earlier this year – the board of directors voted down the proposed special allocation.
Over the years, MINET has required annual subsidies by the cities that co-founded it; In the past, the company has been unable to fully pay the debt owed from the money borrowed to build it. However, this year, no such subsidy was needed. Asked if revenue assistance was likely to be requested in the future, Patten explained that predictions are difficult, “even in the best of times.”
With the battle against Covid-19 still underway, “we have yet to fully grasp every impact of a worldwide pandemic on our business results,” he stated. “But I feel confident in stating that, if there is a shortfall in our support of the cities’ debt relating to MINET in the fiscal year of 2021-22, it will be minimal.”
Another change is the addition of a woman, Monmouth City Manager Marty Wine, to the board, which has had only male members for many years. She will replace departing board member Steve Milligan, current county treasurer.
Patten, who joined the company at what has been reported as a financially troubled time in 2013, is leaving it in a far more stable condition, according to several board members.
Asked about his assessment of the team he built during his time at the helm of MINET, Patten said he considers it nothing like a traditional top-to-bottom hierarchy. Instead, it has become a group of people in common step with equal footing, “each of us striving toward a shared success story,” he said.
By Anne Scheck
Yet in many ways this food bank, at a shopping strip north of downtown on Main Street, is very much a microcosm of the kind of non-profit food distribution that’s occurring nationwide.
The Ella Curran Food Bank serves a broad economic spectrum, including a segment that hasn’t previously used a food bank; Overall demand is significantly higher than ever. And, just like food banks across the country, it’s become the city’s most visible sign of a safety net.
Hundreds of food boxes have been delivered on Fridays in the parking lot at Independence Cinema; Cartloads of food are given away continually at the pantry, which has maintained a socially-distanced personal touch despite covid.
“Nearly everyone knows someone who has used the food bank or they, themselves, have received food,” observed Patty Nevue, director of the Ella Curran Food Bank. From young families to multi-generational ones, from the ranks of the newly employed to long-time retirees, from homeless to middle class households, “the list and stories go on,” she said.
This week, as Polk County re-entered a high-risk category for coronavirus spread, echoes of the 2008 recession are being recognized. “I do think the state will experience, similar to the Great Recession, a greater prevalence of food
regulatory services.
At the time of her study, the poor became even more impoverished, and households that had never lacked money for food suddenly couldn’t afford to buy groceries.
The parallels don’t end there: without food banks, many would have had far worse outcomes. Schoblom’s findings show food insecurity rose more than 13% at the time of her study.
After the effects of the Great Recession abated, the food-insecurity rate declined to about 10%. However, in 2020, the numbers shot up again, this time to 25%, according to Mark Edwards, a sociology professor at OSU and director of the university’s Policy Analysis Laboratory.
Edwards, who supervised Schoblom’s research, pointed out that collaborative efforts – some derived from the hard lessons of the Great Recession – led to better current coordination among state agencies and non-profit programs. “I suspect things are beginning now to improve,” Edwards said.
Pantry visits at Ella Curran, which are averaging between 180 to more than 300 visits monthly and serve between 800 to 2,400 people per month, allow anyone to load up a grocery cart filled with a variety of food, including meat, dairy products, fresh produce, canned fruits and vegetables, pasta, rice and cereal, Nevue said.
The group working there this past week -- two women fairly new to the area, and two who have had years of experience with the food bank – were operating at a pace with the intensity of carhops at a busy drive-in diner.
“People say they don’t know what they would do without this, and many have never used a food bank before,” Burks said. “A lot of those people need a boost, to get through a rough spot,” agreed Puccetti.
Anne Johnson, a fairly new member who recently relocated to Independence, said she values being so directly involved in providing food, and doing so at a place where the impact is so immediately apparent. Being part of a team is rewarding, too – a team she considers as dedicated and high functioning “as players on a basketball court.”
What is the impact of all this food-dispensing? It’s likely good for the local economy. A few years ago, a study on two of the largest food banks in the Pacific Northwest showed that -- among 730 families served there -- the savings for each household translated into about
A correlation between crime and hunger also has been noted in studies on food stamp programs, McCafferty observed. However, it isn’t yet known whether the rise in crime is directly tied to food shortages or the way in which food insecurity may be linked to changes in criminal behavior.
“These are good questions but not ones that can be answered without the passing of more time,” said McCafferty, adding that “there are significant data lags.”
Statistics from the Independence Police Department suggest the pandemic has had an effect on criminal activity, specifically “disorderly conduct.” It ticked up substantially in 2020 – the year of the pandemic – compared with the previous two years.
Communities are more resilient when they have more control of their food system, explained Megan Schneider, a member of Portland State University's adjunct faculty who farms not far from where she teaches her course in food sustainability.
One way to improve food availability could be to provide means for farms to deliver produce directly, without involving a food bank, she said.
However, local farmers who have donated to the Ella Curran Food Bank say it’s a smoothly run operation with easy ways to connect. The Bermudez Family Farm LLC, one of those donors, has been working with the food bank "for as long as I can remember," said Malinda Bermudez, whose family grows both fruits and vegetables on land south of Independence and near Monmouth.
The excess produce, from zucchini to blackberries, has a fresh quality that’s apparently so recognizable to certain users of the food bank that she's been thanked by a few of them when she’s been seen in town, Bermudez recalled.
That’s not too surprising – another common factor shared by food banks is the positive visibility they confer to communities they serve. In fact, at a time when food banks offer hope and help in the pandemic, they’re becoming more widely perceived as important town assets, according to the UCLA Center for Health Policy Research.
*A 501(c)3 non-profit serving the Independence & Monmouth community for over 40 years
*Completely volunteer staffed
*Home of bi-monthly MonIndy Green Bag project, with around 260 participants
*Coordinates Farmers for Families food box distribution
*Accepts local gardener excess produce donations
*Does Thanksgiving turkey giveaways
*Partners with local food stores Roth’s and Waremart
*Connected with the Marion Polk Food Share system
By Anne Scheck
For a lawyer, the role of a district attorney doesn’t seem like much of a life – at least not according to one long-standing analysis of the profession. Often, there’s no public recognition unless controversy creates the wrong kind. And even when a district attorney (DA) has a positive profile, there’s a recurring popularity contest at the ballot box, to clinch the number of votes needed to stay in office.
However, perhaps the most frustrating factor comes from frequently having to limit prosecution to cases in which the evidence is solid and clear. “An act may be highly immoral or wrong, may in fact be a grievous sin, and yet not be a crime,” wrote a famous former DA, Arthur Train, nearly a century ago.
In a series of articles that appeared in 1922 in the Sunday Oregonian, Train lamented that people are “unaware, or at any rate, unmindful” of the many duties a DA is required to juggle so that justice can be served. Train, who published his observations under the title “The Public Prosecutor,” eventually turned to writing legal thrillers.
Fortunately, Polk County’s DA, Aaron Felton, doesn’t see the job the same way, though some of the challenges cited by Train nearly a hundred years ago seem much the same today.
“Being a prosecutor was, and continues to be, the most professionally satisfying time of my career," Felton said.
The role is full of demands, subject to political pressure and requires exhaustive attention to detail – but it provides very meaningful work, and that has led to great job satisfaction, Felton said.
Felton, who has served as Polk County DA since 2013, was deputy district attorney in Polk County for six years and an assistant city attorney in Salem before becoming DA. He's also a former chair of the Oregon Board of Parole and Post-Prison Supervision.
This past year has been a memorable one for him in different ways. He’s had to contend with large-scale disruptions in court processes due to the coronavirus measures; He was featured in a highly publicized documentary, called “The DA’s Dilemma”; He’s been on the receiving end of periodic grilling by the Polk County Board of Commissioners as a result of actions necessitated by Covid-19.
As a result of pandemic measures, there were fewer prosecutions in Polk County, keeping a lower population in the jail. On more than one occasion, the county commissioners expressed frustration over this approach, dubbing it a "cite and release" program.
This change took a toll on law enforcement, making acts like stealing far less consequential, explained County Commissioner Lyle Mordhorst. Arrests largely were limited to those who committed physical assaults, or "person-to-person" crimes, he explained. However, Mordhorst added that the DA has been "doing what he can in difficult times."
Meanwhile, Felton was highlighted in a documentary that explored the scarcity of options in the justice system for meeting the needs of those with mental health issues. The film – which was produced by Independent Lens, the Public Broadcasting Service, in association with the Salem Reporter – focuses on the 2018 death of Alexandria Tereshka, a Dallas woman who died after lying in a roadway while clutching a sheaf of her own court records, and who was reported to have grappled with mental health issues all of her adult life.
A few months before the documentary first aired, Measure 110, the Drug Treatment and Recovery Act, was approved by voters. It decriminalizes some drug possession and is expected to fund the establishment of addiction recovery facilities across the state.
The heightened visibility for Felton isn’t unprecedented. During his time as former chair of the Oregon Board of Parole and Post-Prison Supervision, Felton oversaw the parole hearings of one of Oregon's most notorious criminals, Elizabeth Diane Downs, who attempted to murder her three children, causing the death of one and severely injuring the other two. Her case became the basis for the book "Small Sacrifices" by crime writer Ann Rule, who detailed the homicide and its aftermath.
One of Felton's many mentors was former District Attorney John Fisher, who was known as an extremely skilled trial attorney before being elected to that office. Fisher, who retired in 2008, developed a reputation for forging plea bargains during his tenure as district attorney, which led to stinging criticism from some of those in county law enforcement. However, his compassion won him wide public admiration. Felton is known for the same empathic approach.
When Felton first sought the district attorney's office more than a decade ago, his campaign included a plan to provide crime-preventing outreach for at-risk youth. He was defeated at the time, but now that view seems foresighted – and one reason for the recent documentary.
Growing up in a family that had two generations of funeral directors, "it hit me that this was a kind of ministry," Felton said. He remembers seeing his grandfather being able to comfort people at their most grief-stricken and do so in a truly caring way. He provided a "great role model," Felton said.
Now, as the coronavirus restrictions ease, there is an emerging “new normal” at the Polk County courthouse – some measures that were put into place will remain, such as the technology that’s made court proceedings easier to attend for participants. Hearings and pre-trial conferences have been held virtually, Felton explained.
Victims, witnesses, and accused individuals have been able to be part of the process remotely, by telephone or video-conference calls, he noted. Felton sees this as an improvement, especially for those with childcare challenges or transportation problems.
"Those are critical changes, and I believe they make it more equitable," Felton said. And, where once lawyers pulled carrying cases with wheels and loaded documents into court, almost everything is now stored digitally. From the first filing to the final decision, the process is mostly paperless, he said.
The advances have meant that he can sit at his desk and listen to courts in session, he pointed out. The system isn't just more convenient, it is cost saving, he said.
In fact, the DA’s office is now fully digitized – a transition that substantially cut expenditures. However, with growth, the cost of licenses for software and maintenance agreements for the systems has risen, too, Felton acknowledged. But the digital platforms increase productivity, a benefit that can be hard to quantify, he observed.
Felton looks back on his early years as a teaching process that prepared him for the job he now occupies. As a young prosecuting attorney, Felton tried cases in Polk County that didn't simply provide him with essential investigative experience, but also imparted a deeply personal view of the impact on victims of crime, including family members affected by the event.
The family of a man who was killed on the way home from work is one such example. He died in a hit-and-run collision. As a result of social media, where the fatality was discussed in some detail, the other driver eventually was caught. But it was the behavior of the victim's family that has stuck with him all these years, Felton said. They were present at every pre-trial meeting and unfailingly respectful, said Felton, who is the father of two grown sons and a grandfather of five.
The victim’s family never wavered in their focus on preparations for the trial, a show of strength that was unforgettable, Felton recalled. The memory of the dedication by law enforcement in solving the case remains vivid, as well, he said.
When the accused man was sentenced to years in prison for the death, Felton observed that, for him, it was a time in which he felt a sense of fulfillment. The family got to witness the system impose accountability – a family still grieving but able to participate in the process with incredible dignity, he said.
He also recalls cases that involved interaction with children, where he tried to be gentle and supportive while eliciting information. "One little girl I remember, she gave me a drawing she'd made for me," he said. "I still have it.”
Felton has had his share of disappointments in office – one of them, very recently. An innovative program, known as “mental health court,” became a victim of covid. The remote offering – didn't work nearly as well for it, and the number of committed participants plummeted.
Currently, a new public health program is being set up in Polk County for those identified as having mental health needs, but participation is expected to be voluntary. In contrast, mental health court was seen as a diversion program – a specialty court that was part of the county's criminal justice system.
“I am optimistic that the issue will be revisited again in the not-too-distant future, as the program had a very positive impact on the participants and the public safety system,” he said.
(This is the first in a planned series to look at Polk County’s Criminal Justice and Court System)