Paper Chase

Paper Chase

People file lawsuits for money, publicity or vengeance. District Attorney Thien Ho is different. He wants documents.

Ho’s lawsuit against city officials over negligent management of homelessness brought relief to residents and outrage from Mayor Darrell Steinberg. A key target of Ho’s litigation was overlooked: pretrial discovery.

Ho wants the city to enforce local ordinances and state laws and clean up the streets. To understand why the city failed, he needs to see private emails, text messages and memos that guided city officials to their acceptance of tent camps and drug markets.

The city wants the suit dismissed.

Community Shame

Community Shame

Generations of families loved Land Park Plunge and Riverside Baths. They celebrated the pool’s opening every April, rode bikes, walked or took the No. 2 bus down Riverside Boulevard.

They splashed in “artesian” waters on summer days. They swam on moonlit nights. Admission was 25 cents, kids a dime.

Then Land Park Plunge and its diving boards, patios and dressing rooms disappeared, dropped from conversations, expunged from memories, an embarrassment best forgotten.

Today nothing memorializes the significance of a once-grand community sports and recreation center. Let’s pretend this never happened. But it did happen.

True To Herself

True To Herself

Soon after winning her City Council seat in 2020, Katie Valenzuela made a decision that set the tone for her neophyte political career. She hired a man who made violent threats against the mayor and city manager.

As it turned out, Skyler Henry wasn’t violent. But his presence at City Hall prompted Mayor Darrell Steinberg and City Manager Howard Chan to seek a restraining order against Henry. The order was denied, but Chan changed several locks at City Hall to prevent Henry from wandering around.

When I asked Valenzuela why she would hire someone known for making threats against public officials, she said Henry was merely exercising his First Amendment rights. Refusal to hire him, she said, would make her a hypocrite, someone who disrespects free speech.

Two Down

Two Down

Three months ago, the Bee announced its print circulation was 25,325. The number represented a one-year drop of about 35%. It signaled massive revenue losses, $17 million if annual subscribers paid $1,200. About 5% of digital subscribers also disappeared.

As a former Bee reporter who remembers when circulation topped 300,000, I type these numbers with sadness. In 2019, the Bee sold 93,000 copies daily.

I escaped the newsroom at 21st and Q streets 16 years ago, when I saw deep cracks in the Bee’s fundamentals. I knew management wasn’t capable or willing to address threats from online advertising and free news content. I decided the Bee had no future.

We Were Warned

We Were Warned

The names were evocative, inspired by the river and people who lived, worked and played on it. Amen’s Landing, B and B Harbor, Cotton’s Landing, Stogey’s Landing, Shaw’s Landing, Captain’s Table, Wheeler’s Landing.

From Elkhorn to Freeport, a string of boat ramps, docks, waterfront cafés, taverns, picnic grounds and fishing camps made the Sacramento River levee accessible, enjoyable and essential to generations.

Today, below Miller Park and Downtown, old recreational haunts are gone. Some were destroyed by the river and its seasonal torrents. Others collapsed when operators tumbled into financial despair.

They’re Off

They’re Off

Time to bet $50 on a harness horse named Roscoe P Coletrain. He’s no sure thing. Just a beautiful name.

I rarely bet horses on name alone, and almost never risk $50. I’m a $20 bettor, long shots. Anything over $20 depresses me when luck fails. Roscoe P Coletrain inspires dumb certainty.

The drive to Cal Expo is a reminder of how tough it is to make an old-fashioned, in-person wager on a harness horse. Trouble starts with finding the racetrack. I’ve watched races at Cal Expo for almost 50 years, navigated the parking lot hundreds of times.