Finally got around to reading the city auditor’s “Preliminary Report on the City’s Homeless Response.” Hated it. Then I read it again. Loved it.
People told me the report was a lightweight, whitewashed effort, a statistical compendium lacking analysis on how the city’s political leadership failed to manage encampments, drug sales, fires and crime.
On the surface, critics were right. The report makes zero effort to analyze decisions that turned Sacramento into a national disgrace, a place where tents line sidewalks, enforcement is discouraged and residential pleas for help are answered with, “Sorry, nothing we can do.”
It didn’t take long for the Children’s Fund to become a poster child for buyer’s remorse.
The Children’s Fund was a feel-good initiative pitched to voters in 2016, 2020 and 2022 as an easy way to steer young people from temptation with after-school programs and wholesome activities.
Money would come from cannabis sales taxes, about $9 million every year.
In other words, demon weed would save the city’s youth.
There’s something wonderful and worrisome about a political novice running for mayor. A rookie brings fresh ideas and perspectives. Trouble is, what happens if the rookie wins?
This year’s wonder and worry is embodied by Flojaune Cofer, a far-left progressive in her first run for office. Her newcomer status wouldn’t matter if Cofer sought a smaller job, maybe school board. But Cofer wants to start at the top.
Her decision comes at a precarious time. Mayor Darrell Steinberg departs after eight years of disappointment. He promised to solve the homeless crisis and failed. There were 2,700 homeless people in town when Steinberg was elected. Now there are 10,000.
Many years ago, Ray Kerridge, then city manager of Sacramento, invited me to lunch. Between his salad and my cheeseburger, he asked a profound question.
If I were on City Council, where would my loyalties stand—with the district that elected me, or the entire city? I fumbled for an answer and made up something diplomatic. If I didn’t look after people in my district, nobody else would. But my City Council decisions would impact everyone in town, not just one council district. My loyalty goes to the city.
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.
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.
