Listening?

With regard to the “horse mask” episode:

     THIS IS ONE in a series of episodes that point to inadequacies in our college’s approach to situations that endanger staff.
     You’ll recall an episode in November of 2010 in which, one evening, a manifestly disturbed student with a history of mental health issues menacingly wandered near faculty offices, carrying scissors. Our (resourceful and wise) dean was away visiting relatives, and so it was left to the remaining administrative crew to handle the situation.
     To make a long story short, the situation was handled badly, in part because legitimate faculty concerns were not always taken seriously. (It was hard to watch: a fine new hire suddenly feeling unsafe and alone, unprotected by her institution. We did what we could to reassure her and even to protect her. But it was "us" vs. administration for a while there. Admittedly, part of the problem was laws that protect the rights of the mentally ill.)
     (See More criticism for IVC administration and Running with scissors).
     In this recent case, an instructor reported an odd incident that, as it turns out, involved no threat of danger (near as anyone can tell), but that, in the absence of knowledge of what was occurring (namely, a sociology assignment gone wrong), was truly worrisome.
     Again: four young men suddenly entered a classroom in mid-lecture. When they were asked to identify themselves—one kid wore a horse mask—they were unresponsive. Eventually, the instructor, who is very experienced, got the four young men to leave the room without further incident. He then dutifully advised his dean of the episode and filed the appropriate paperwork. He received an obnoxious CYA letter from the head of the Sociology Dept., a woman who exhibited little interest in taking responsibility for the situation. Meanwhile, faculty were assured that the four young men were adequately dealt with (in a manner left unexplained) by a certain Dean—one notorious for piss-poor judgment.

Sociologists understand people,
they neigh

     We at DtB see, not just an isolated incident, but a pattern. One common element in the day-to-day affairs at IVC of recent years is administrative unwillingness to take faculty concerns seriously. In this case, the trouble-makers showed very poor judgment (and/or callousness, etc.) but they were not truly dangerous. But there was no way for the instructor to know that when he observed these young men entering his classroom. The situation would have been alarming to anyone.
     At this point, many faculty are unconvinced that administration understands this.
     And the notion that the problematic dean has things under control—well, it just won’t do. She is stunningly incompetent. Many of us continually ask: Why has this person been protected by her superiors all these years? What on Earth is going on here? Surely, more competent administrators are available! (And, no, we're not referring merely to her daft "lock the door" advice. That's a mere drop in a full bucket.)
     I and other faculty have no faith whatsoever in this administrator’s ability to handle these situations adequately and professionally. If our assessment is just, then, as Rebel Girl recently said to me, it is only a matter of time before something serious finally happens on this campus. I've got to agree.
     Are you listening, administrators?
     (Of course you’re not listening.)
     After the “scissors” episode, faced with administrative unresponsiveness, some of us took our concerns about the inadequacy of the college’s approach to faculty security to the Academic Senate.
     That seems to have gone nowhere. Assurances were made—ultimately by VPs, the police chief, et al. But Dean Incompetence has a key role still. Meanwhile, our police chief is retiring [This is a false rumor.] and that means we’re in for another transition with regard to how best to approach security.
     Trustees? Chancellor? Are you listening?

A few related points:

Uh-oh

• As far as I know, faculty have long been told NOT to call 911 but always to call the campus police, in the event of an emergency.
• According to the aforementioned letter, sociology students are always instructed to conduct their norm-violating “experiments” off campus.
• Not all classrooms can be locked from the inside. But there are several obvious reasons not to lock them about which Dean Incompetence seems oblivious.
• This might not be clear from the "outside": college instructors naturally do not want to call in the police (or other authorities) unless it is really necessary, for they typically approach their courses as autonomous leaders of classes—as pedagogical auteurs, so to speak. That one has called in the cops means that one has lost control, that one needs help.
• Experienced teachers are often good at sizing up instigators of disruption and dealing with them on their own. I have been teaching at IVC for over twenty-five years, and I have been forced to deal with disruption on numerous occasions; but I was compelled to call in a campus cop only once. My case is typical, I believe.
• Obviously, one could easily institute procedures that would be too sensitive, yielding numerous (highly disruptive) calls for police, most of them false alarms. On the other hand, one could easily institute lax approaches and procedures that do not sufficiently deal with hazards. Getting this right isn't easy.

The February meeting of the SOCCCD Board of Trustees: Marcia has never been happier!

Irrepressible

     [See Tere's Board Meeting Highlights.]
     It's 6:00 p.m., and there's no sign of the board. There're about fifteen people scattered amongst the seats of the Ronnie Reagan Board Room. People are starting to drift inside on this wet, cold night.
     I'll let you know if anything actually happens.

     6:15 - No sign of the trustees yet. One item on tonight's agenda is acceptance for "review and study" the District Academic Calendar Committee's recommendation for the 2013-2014 Calendar, which is this:

Click on graphic to enlarge it

     Now, everybody's got an opinion about the proposed calendar. Just don't get pissed at me if you don't like it. I've got nothing to do with it. They won't be approving it tonight, so you've still got time to shriek and moan. Just not to me.
     6:22 - No sign of 'em yet. Item 5.19 is authorization of payment to Trustee Tom Fuentes for last month's board meeting despite his absence. Fuentes has attended only one meeting since March, and he's been paid for every one of 'em. So here's the item:

     There was an article in the paper today about trustees—I think it was in a district up in San Francisco—getting paid automatically for missed meetings, and some of 'em miss lots of meetings. Evidently, that's contrary to the law—the Ed Code. But our trustees here in the SOCCCD have their version of this scam pretty well worked out. They know to have these special resolutions and whatnot.

"Barefooted Africans"

     6:30 - UTT LIBRARY. You'll recall that the Saddleback College Academic Senate passed a resolution asking the board to rename the "James B. Utt Memorial Library," owing, of course, to Congressman Utt's unsavoriness. Utt's nickname was "Utt the Nut," and no wonder. He embraced whacky conspiracy theories (about "barefooted Africans" joining in alleged UN efforts to take over the U.S., about tens of thousands of Chinese soldiers massing on the Mexican border, etc.). You might say that Utt wasn't into the multiculturalism and inclusion thing, and that's how the Senate pitched their request.
     Well, no such agenda item has appeared. The remodeling of the library isn't over yet, of course, and so maybe they're just putting off the "renaming" issue until the library is fully "renewed."

* * *

     6:55 - Aha! One of the trustees has appeared: TJ Prendergast. He looks grim, but that could be about anything. Tight shoes maybe.
     6:58 - Frank Meldau has appeared. He, too, looks grim. Now Nancy Padberg. She just looks like Nancy. She's stopped to joke with the Saddleback Senate Prez. Now she's exchanging pleasantries with the student trustee, Jordan Larson.
     Here's Bill Jay. He's about as pale and white as a powdered teddy bear. Dave Lang has arrived, seems to have a shit-eating grin.
     It's 7:00, and Nancy's off somewhere. The audience of about thirty souls doesn't look concerned. Or interested. Now TJ's smiling. Good.
     7:04 - Marcia Milchiker's just arrived. The meeting begins. Marcia does a wacky invocation. It takes her about twenty seconds to find her notes. She seems unperturbed.
     6/0 vote: approved modification of unpaid leave w/ benefits to.....
     6/0 vote: approved exception of teaching an online course in bargaining agreement, blah, blah, blah

Manager of the Year

     Presentation of resolution for Brandye D'Lena. Marcia speaks again: Manager of the Year. Did 89 community workshops, etc. Oversaw demolition of a shitload of Marine buildings. 6,000 purchases. Marcia is presenting in her special way, only specialer. Pretty wacky. Nice hair, though. Brandye has a great work ethic. Intelligent, caring, focused, positive (says Marcia). Be it resolved, blah, blah, blah,... congratulate her upon her achievement, blah  blah blah. "And I have to say....when I'm feeling badly, I just look at Brandye and feel better," blah blah blah. "I can go on and on but I won't..." --Suddenly Nancy breaks in, "yes, yes, you don't have to." Something like that. Nancy tries to move this thing along. It would be the night of Padbergian peevishness, directed at Marcia at her most wacky.
     Next public comments. None, of course.
   
     Trustee reports:

Bill Jay: no report, we're running late, he says, rather bluntly.
Frank Meldau: attended astounding inventions. Wonderful. Etc.
Marcia Milchiker: "I've never been happier. Things are better now than ever (in her 26 years as trustee)..." Introduces her husband, the doctor (she keeps naming his specialities). Tells story again of how he sat in the back of the room at Santa Ana College. "We love each other very much." She then nods furiously. (In general, Nancy seems vexed by Marcia's behavior tonight. The rest of us are amused.)
TJ Prendergast: Jokes about how he ended up having to give a speech when no other trustee showed for something or other. Funny.
Nancy Padberg: Astounding Inventions was astounding. Went to Washington, D.C. to lobby for community colleges. (Very unRepublican. Good for her.) Special concerns for veterans.
Dave Lang: no report this evening, he says, unapologetically.
Student Trustee Larson: wanted to emphasize study abroad programs. Salamanca, Spain. Impact on his friend. Came back a new person. Speaking Spanish.
Marcia: wanted to echo what Larson said. Very proud of him (Larson). She goes on absurdly about the fellow, despite Nancy's effort to muzzle her. Talks about Rich McCullough: I said some things that no one else said at the service, she says. Nancy does her best to hide eye rollage spasms. Powerful ones.
Chancellor's Report: Introduces new employee who replaces Beth Muller. "Welcome."
Two highlights of the meeting tonight: (1) 4.1 on the agenda. Basic Aid allocation. There were recommendations in Accred report about transparency. This is the implementation. It is important. (2) Putting some organization into ATEP site development. Agreement on what will be offered there.

Board requests for reports:

45-minute episodes

TJ: wants report on some equipment for pools that's become available.
Nancy: have our two colleges make presentations on discussion of our two veterans programs. There are some veterans that we seem unaware of here (learned about them in Washington). Also should look at what we can do for veterans at ATEP.
Marcia: agrees wholeheartedly with those requests (even though nobody asked her for her agreement; more wackiness). Want to know what's happening statewide with the Emeritus Institute. Got a $2 million donation for EI recently.
--Nancy abruptly interrupts: asking for a report? Marcia wants a report with regard to a particular bill in the works. She's none too clear about the identity of that bill "which isn't quite a bill yet."
Nancy now seeks to go back to each request and voting upon each.
Ah, but Lang interjects that trustees are supposed to fill out forms explcitly explaining what is requested. What about that? So Nancy says: let's do that and vote on these at the next meeting. OK
Meldau: another shooting in Ohio today. Professionally, that's very upsetting. Would like a report on safety issues on both campuses, and what we're doing to provide for safety of students and staff. (Deja Vu.)

Discussion item: Basic Aid allocation. New administrative regulations. Deborah Fitzsimons presents.

Fitzsimons

Blah blah blah.
A new committee will form: BAARC
It is quite simply impossible for me to listen to this. Sorry. I like Fitzsimons, but....
7:41 - Fitzsimons is still going. Don't know what she's saying. I refuse to listen. It's like watching paint dry. No, it's like listening to paint dry. The trustees are struggling with consciousness. I think that Bill Jay may actually be dead. TJ has a pained look, but that could be those shoes. Marcia seems utterly bewildered by whatever she's looking at. Meldau gave me a long-suffering look. Meanwhile, Fitzsimmons' pleasant voice slinks along, hideously. "Project....funding...fazed over time...swap...contingency...budget...tech...plan...one-time project...."
Where's Tom Fuentes when you need him? He'd be entertaining us about now. Dagger looks. Extreme grumpy faces. Homicidal stink-eye. Cosmic, epoch-shattering hatred conveyed by gestures small and large.
Fitzsimons will not stop her infernal discourse about moola allocations. "Evaluation....PB and AR...adherence...recommendations...adjusting....assessment...disseminated...."
It's just too hideous. I do believe that Fitzsimons is causing those "pops" when she speaks. It's like she's just banging on her mike with her thumb all the time. But she isn't.
IT FINALLY ENDS!

Marcia: I'm so delighted that we employed Deborah Fitzsimons. Deborah showed me how to use SharePoint. Thank you.
Lang: congrats Deborah. You did a terrific job. I do have two comments. By five years, allocations must be used. Kinda generous, eh? Supposed to be smaller projects. (Lang is looking in the document for some reference. Nancy is building steam.) Blah blah blah. Fizsimons clarifies. Allocations have to be project specific. Lang: don't we have older projects on the books, older than five years? Fitz: will get back to you.
Gawd, I can't stand this stuff.
Mr. Bean(counter) goes on. Major technology projects. We've been on the cutting edge with respect to technology initiatives, etc. I want to make sure that major tech projects aren't being given short shrift. Don't want anything we've done go by the way side.
Nancy: blah blah blah.
No more questions.

TENURE FOR SOME. Next Discussion item—it'll have to wait. We'll move forward item 6.6: probationary faculty. Bugay explains. Lists of faculty, including fourth year faculty. Once the board approves this item, these faculty will become full-time in Fall. Can't throw 'em back. They're tenured.
Nancy: any comments or questions?
Lang: were there members who were not recommended? Answer: not this year. (Wrong answer.) Lang motions approval. They vote: unanimous.
Nancy: could we introduce the (newly tenured) faculty who are here?
Jim Wright (?): has them all stand.
About six of them introduce themselves. They seem pleased as punch, happy. And why not?
Marcia insists on speaking. She seems irrepressible tonight. I dunno what she's saying.
The item passes. Verily, this moment, too, shall pass into oblivion.

Jodi Titus comes up to introduce (IVC?) curriculum. There's some sort of tech glitch. We wait. She starts. She is very succinct, which surprised the board, which had settled into positions of staunch and resigned boredom. They are pleased, too, and the audience is relieved. Some in the audience hazard feeble smiles.

Consent calendar: Nancy pulls things that are important and should be "publicly recognized." Lang pulls four items. They vote on what's left: unanimous.

5.3: grant acceptance, blah blah blah. Nancy wants the public to know how well we're doing with grants.
5.5: contract for consultant
5.9: subgrant award: new media entertainment subgrant
Lang: has comment about 5.9. We're more than half way into the grant period, and it is now coming to the board. What gives? Roquemore: this is the fifth year of a five-year grant. Lang: exhibit A shows period from 2011 to 2012. Fitzsimons clarifies: this is a subgrant. The larger grant was long ago approved. OK, then.
All approved.
(Nancy is manifestly annoyed that, once again, Trustee Milchiker isn't pushing her button properly. Her frustration is a motif.)

Lang asks Brandye D'Lena to come up and explain something about a contractor. Yeah, there were delays, she says. We won't get all of this money back, she says. She's tellin' it like it is. Lang says something about an effort to avoid getting shitty contractors, not always going with the lowest bidder. (Some past resolution.) Brandye says something, I know not what, but it all seemed satisfactory.
5.7 and 5.8 get approved.

5.11. Lang: different contractor, different project, similar problems. Will we attempt to get money back? You bet!

5.25. Lang: will abstain from part of this. (Conflict.) They vote on dividing the question. Blah blah blah.

Now item 6.1: courses, etc., offered at ATEP.
The two college presidents present.
Roquemore: it's been fully vetted.
Burnett: likewise. Blah blah blah.
They vote: carries unanimously.

6.2: Marion Bergeson award: nomination?  None. Marcia insists on telling the world that she doesn't want it. Oh. Thanks for sharing.

6.4: board policy revisions.
Lang: BP 4091. This must be the one giving retreat rights to some administrators. Lang asks: No requirement that there be a need for the retreating person within the college's existing programs?  Bugay: it's an ed code provision. The district is not required to put the administrator in a spot if the spot does not exist. Don't have to worry about this, says Bugay.
They vote: unanimous

blah blah blah

Personnel actions.....all approved

7.0 Chancellor presents review of classified management, administrators: recommendations...that we move to consolidated schedule for salaries. This is the first step in the process. Following this, we'll start the review period for the employees.
Prendergast: 54 of 72 districts have done this. It seems like a reasonable move toward what seems to be working at other places. Nancy says she agrees. A responsible study. Prendergast motions.
Unanimous.

Outside speakers. No questions.

ATEP plan. No comments or questions.

7.3: basic aid report.
7.4: facilities plan....
7.5: monthly financial status....
7.6: quarterly....
7.7: quarterly investment report....
7.8: retirees' trust find report

Shared governance groups reports:

Saddleback College Ac. Senate: thanks other bodies (namely, IVC Ac. Senate and Saddleback Classified Senate) for supporting them on their request about the Library name-change.
Fac. Association: no report
IVC Ac. Senate: no report.
Etc.

Plano honored

Prez Glenn Roquemore (IVC): short report. Astounding Inventions. 25th year. A 2005 "astounding" kid received a patent. Also excited to announce: Gwen Plano recently received leadership award from ACCA... Presented that award last week. Applause. (That's rich.)
Prez Tod Burnett (Saddleback): $2.2 million gift to Saddleback (Emeritus). Went to OC Dept. of Education annual state of education event. Sell-out crowd. OC is doing better relative to rest of state, but we need to improve. "Total local control" was the theme. Habbermehl. U.S. Sec. of Labor will be here next week. One thing about Tod, he ain't succinct.
Bramucci: no report
Bugay: "how to get a full-time job" event. Glorious beyond words.
Marcia breaks in to assert that she used to be the most involved trustee. Now it's Meldau. Everyone treats Marcia as though she were the village, um, patient. Lots of polite nodding. Staring forward. No eye contact.
Nancy quickly contains the damage.
Fitzsimons briefly speaks. I dunno what she says.
CSEA: informational video. Training.
Saddleback Classified Senate: We supported Academic Senate with regard to name of Library. An employee asked: would we consider naming the library after Dr. McCullough? "I thought I'd bring that idea to you."

Nancy closed meeting in memory of Rich McCullough and former trustee Lee Rhodes.

"Please adhere to the following guidelines" (This is a joke, right?)

REBEL GIRL came home from an idyllic weekend in San Diego (Opera! Hotel pool! Potato tacos and tamales at El Indio! Balboa Park! The Spreckels Pipe Organ!) to find this rather abrupt request in her mail box. Maybe you got one too.

Lisa Alvarez,

5500 Irvine Center Drive
Irvine, Ca 92618
lalvarez@ivc.edu

YOUR RECOMMENDATION LETTER IS IMPORTANT. PLEASE ADHERE TO THE FOLLOWING GUIDELINES. Do not identify the student by RACE, COLOR, RELIGION, NATIONAL ORGIN [sic], AGE, SEX, FAMILIA [sic] STATUS, DISABILITY STATUS, VETERAN STATUS or GENETIC information. Do not provide the STUDENT'S NAME, SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER, STUDENT ID NUMBER, BIRTH DATE or any other information that may identify student
[long hyperlink here to cut and paste]
Your temporary password is [a series of capital letters]

Rebel Girl wishes there had been more of an explanation for the abrupt change in policy—Why? Tell us why!—and certainly the English teacher in her pines for a proper salutation and perhaps unimportant details like deadlines, punctuation, spelling (e.g., orgin), etc. She does approve of the zesty inclusion of Espanol or Spanglish—"familia" status! Ay yi yi!—but then again, she would. She remains perplexed by categories of knowledge she would never possess about her students: "genetic information," "Social Security number," for example, or those she would never mention: "color," "religion" etc.

Having begun drafting her first letter though she realizes that most faculty are faced with a special challenge: how to avoid the gender revealing pronouns: he or she.

Rebel Girl wants to help.

One can rely upon "the student" to get though most of the letter, though with some tiresome repetition.

When one begins to reach for a pronoun, however, be careful. Remember, gender neutral. And you cannot use the student's name either! It's not as easy as one might think.

The choice of "they," while popular, violates the shift in number statute of the MLA English usage code and repeat violations may result in diminishing the power of the recommendation.

Rebel Girl suggests the more fashionable, cutting edge s/he. Notice the forward slash, very popular these days. Admire how this new hybrid pronoun retains the spirit of the she and the quiet solitary power of the he without sacrificing the gender integrity of either. People who prefer the parenthetical over the slash can opt for (s)he.

There is the weary-making he or she or she or he.

But what to do about him and her?

No idea. You're on your own. Retreat, if you must, to that reliable noun student. Vary it with its slightly British cousin scholar.

Now write your letter.

Good luck.

The mysterious sinking of the "Shooting Star." Part 1

The entire “Fuentes/Shooting Star” saga can be found here.

A typical AVR conversion

Ron Caspers

     Occasionally, DtB readers ask me about that curious moment in Trustee Tom Fuentes’ career when he passed on a fishing trip down up the Baja coast with his boss, OC Supervisor Ron Caspers, a few days after Caspers’ reelection in 1974. The ship—the "Shooting Star"—mysteriously disappeared, with all hands lost.

* * *

     In 1974, the ambitious 25-year-old Fuentes was Caspers’ “executive assistant.” A 1985 article about Fuentes, on the eve of his twenty-year tenure as OCGOP chair (Changing of the Guard for Orange County GOP), explains Fuentes' relationship to Caspers:

     Fuentes credits former Supervisor Ronald Caspers for much of his political rearing. He worked as an aide to Caspers for four years in the 1970s. Caspers' boat was lost at sea with 10 aboard—including Caspers—in 1974. (Fuentes would have been aboard the Shooting Star himself on the voyage to celebrate Caspers' reelection to a second term but decided against going at the last moment.) None of the 10 aboard was found.
     Fuentes had hoped that he would be appointed to replace Caspers. When he discovered that there was a one-year residency requirement that he did not meet, he decided to carry out an earlier plan to enter a seminary and study for the priesthood.

Tom Fuentes, c. 1974

     A year or so after this article (1986), Fuentes had by then established his bullying and autocratic reputation. During a political debate, faced with the Fuentean dictate that his time to run for a local office had not yet arrived, a well-known and respected local Republican (Nathan Rosenberg) angrily referred to Fuentes as Caspers' one-time "bag man."
     It will come as no surprise to long-time OC observers that Caspers, Fuentes' boss, was associated with a powerful group whose corruption eventually made headlines (see below).

* * *

     The 1974 sinking of the "Shooting Star" has never been satisfactorily explained.
     Recently, a close relative of one of the victims of that disaster contacted me in an effort to gather information—she says the family has always been dissatisfied with how little information they got from authorities or from the press—and this renewed my own interest in the event.
     The disaster started on June 13, 1974:

The Star-News, June 15, 1974
Ex-Pasadenan, Sons on Sinking Craft

     A sea search for a pleasure boat containing 10 persons … intensified late Friday with the Mexican Navy and Air Force vessels joining the U.S. Coast Guard in the effort.
     On board the 59-foot “Shooting Star” are Supervisor Ron Caspers, 43 … and his two sons, Kirk, 20, and Rick, 18.
     The drama began late Thursday night [June 13] when the converted Navy vessel was reported sinking by its owner-skipper Fred Harber, an Orange County political manager. In a “May Day” call, Harber radioed that the “Shooting Star” was taking in water off the Baja California coast.
     As the rescue units converged in the search area, about 275 miles south of San Diego in an area dotted by the San Benito Isles and Island De Cedros [see map], authorities said an advancing hurricane was rapidly approaching the operation area.
     Friends and former associates who knew Caspers as a banker here during the fifties recalled ominously Friday how the supervisor’s first wife, Barbara, was killed in an accident at sea on Oct. 2, 1954.
. . .
     Another person, advertising executive Harold Kelly, also was killed in that accident but Caspers and two other friends survived.
. . .
     Also aboard the boat are Thomas Klein, 26, an aide to Orange County Supervisor Chairman Ralph Clark; two of Klein’s brothers, identified as John and Tim Klein; Leonard Basher, an Anaheim contractor; Basher’s son-in-law, Richard Tully, 21, and Basher’s nephew, Robert Basher, also of Anaheim.
     As the search continued, authorities reported that the approaching Hurricane Connie was causing rough seas and limiting visibility to 500 feet. Most of the vessels steaming toward the area were said to have arrived in the rescue area late Friday night or early today. In two calls prior to the distress signal, however, Harber reported that the $65,000 vessel is well-stocked with rations, life jackets and a small lifeboat with outboard motor.
     The 10-member party was on a fishing trip from Cabo San Lucas, at the tip of the Baja peninsula, to Newport Beach when the problems arose.

     Ultimately, all ten passengers were lost. Despite some big unanswered questions, the incident faded into oblivion. Slowly, politically aware locals began to view the matter as curious, mysterious, odd. It became mythic.


     Nine years later:
     Here’s a portion of an article about Orange County “mysteries” that appeared in Orange Coast Magazine in October of 1983 (“Some OC Tales Could Add Another Chapter To Ripley’s—Believe It Or Not”; by Cathy Eilts):

     ...The third major mystery occurred June 13, 1974, when the 59-foot yacht, the Shooting Star, carrying Orange County Supervisor Ron Caspers, the former Buena Park Mayor and Cypress City Manager Fred Harber, and eight others disappeared near San Benitos Islands off Baja California. The group was on a return voyage from Cabo San Lucas celebrating Casper’s reelection as 5th District Supervisor.
     According to an article which appeared in the Register of October 2, 1974, a search for the vessel began after an engineer aboard a private research ship on the night of June 13 picked up the following distress signal: “Mayday. This is the Shooting Star with nine persons aboard… We are sinking about 50 miles from Turtle Bay.”
     The Coast Guard searched for the Shooting Star from June 14 to June 20, covering 40,000 square miles. Six to ten private planes also searched the area….
     In June, debris was found from the yacht including the top of the cabin, some furniture, and a sailboat which had capsized. In July, a foreign freighter recovered the yacht’s lifeboat 350 miles from the first sighting of debris. None of the bodies or the yacht’s hull were found.
     Three years later, according to another Register article, new questions surfaced regarding the incident. A sea captain who often traveled from Orange County to Cabo San Lucas may have been the last American, other than the Shooting Star travelers, to talk to Harber. According to the seaman, Harber had said the group planned to make a leisurely voyage and do some marlin fishing. However, in order to travel to the spot near Turtle Bay where the distress call was picked up, the yacht would have had to travel 69 hours straight and often in stormy seas. Why did Harber, who was considered an expert seaman, try the fast-paced and dangerous voyage contrary to former plans?

     This next article, which appeared, again in OC Magazine, exactly ten years after the incident, continues the “mystery” theme and reports some remarkable speculation and political intrigue.
     Some began to ask, "Was it murder?"

The Sinking of a Political Machine
by Larry Peterson

Dr. Louis Cella

     …Among the ten men lost and presumed dead on the ill-fated fishing trip were County Supervisor Ron Caspers and political strategist Fred Harber.
     Following its investigation of the disappearance of the converted naval rescue craft just before midnight on June 13, 1974, the U.S. Coast Guard concluded that there was no evidence of foul play.
     But, other than to suggest that bad weather may have been a factor, the probe failed to determine why the 63-foot vessel, owned by Harber, disappeared with barely a trace in rough, shark-infested waters. What is not subject to question is that Orange County’s politics never have been the same since that tragic night.
     The voyage was supposed to be a celebration of Caspers’ re-election only a few days before. The victory was engineered by Harber, who had close links to Dr. Louis Cella and other political figures who later were to be indicted on charges ranging from fraud and embezzlement to campaign-finance cover-up and bribery.
     At the time, Cella headed the closest thing Orange County has ever had to a political machine. [Please note: Fuentes’ turn as county GOP chair started in 1984 and lasted about twenty years.] In the mid-seventies, Cella and south Orange County land baron Richard O’Neill teamed up to donate hundreds of thousands of dollars to dozens of candidates.
     District Attorney Cecil Hicks, close to the country’s Republican establishment, fought a running battle with Cella. Hicks once publicly accused the doctor of heading a “shadow government” that controlled the county Board of Supervisors. Cella responded by accusing Hicks of alcoholism. In any case, a majority voting bloc, usually consisting of recipients of Cella’s political largesse, repeatedly helped stymie Hicks’ attempts to investigate Cella and his allies.
     Within four years after the sinking of the Shooting Star, most members of the shadow government had been driven into political exile. Some, indeed, were behind bars, and others were fighting rear-guard legal battles that would end in their incarceration.
     Cella was convicted in 1978 of using a hospital he owned to defraud the federal government of hundreds of thousands in Medi-Cal funds, much of it used to underwrite his campaign contributions. After serving time in federal prison, he moved to Coachella. County Supervisor Robert Battin, for whom Harber had been an aide, was convicted in 1976 and briefly jailed for illegally using county funds to help his unsuccessful 1974 bid for the Democratic nomination of lieutenant governor. He now practices law in Santa Ana. Supervisor Laurence Schmit, a Cella ally and a major beneficiary of his political influence was defeated in his 1978 re-election bid. He moved to Northern California Supervisor Ralph Diedrich, who tried to reassemble the shattered machine, was convicted in 1979 on bribery charges. Recently released from prison, he, too, has left the county. O’Neill—never accused of wrongdoing—eventually became chairman of the state Democratic party. But that was only after years of virtual political hibernation during which he lived down the onus of his alliance with Cella.

Ralph Diedrich

     Cella, interviewed last year in Coachella, where he practices medicine at a farm workers’ clinic, said the sinking of the Shooting Star marked the “death knell” for his role as a power broker.
     The loss of Harber, he said, deprived him of his political allies of a “political genius,” who, had he steered the boat safely home, could have helped pilot the shadow government through troubled political waters.
     And, in Caspers, Cella added, the group lost a reliable ally who could have helped push through a Cella-backed move to investigate the district attorney’s office and blunt any possible probe of the Cella-O’Neill combine.
     “If Caspers had lived, we would have had the votes to stop Hicks,” said Cella. “He was a very strong vote against Cecil and he disliked Cecil even more than Fred did.”
     Battin agrees with Cella’s assessment, calling the loss of Harber and Caspers “the beginning of the end.”
     But even if the demise of the Cella-O’Neill machine is attributable to that of the Shooting Star, the events that sealed the boat’s fate remain a mystery.
     Neither bodies nor pieces of the wooden hull of the ship were ever found. Recovered 350 miles away from what was believed to be the site of the boat’s sinking was its thirteen-foot lifeboat. More than 300 miles from the presumed resting place of the Shooting Star, but a like distance from the lifeboat, debris from the yacht was found: a thirteen-foot sailboat, two large pieces of cabin top, two life jackets, some furniture and a few smaller items.
     The Coast Guard investigation failed to determine why the life jackets apparently were not used or why radio reports before the sinking indicated different positions.
     Also still a mystery is why no one, according to the official report, apparently was able to transfer from the Shooting Star to the lifeboat. 

Robert Battin

    Another discrepancy that remains unexplained is that a mayday message picked up by a research vessel in the area said there were nine persons aboard.
     And still subject to guesswork—and not addressed by the report—is why, according to witnesses, the party on board suddenly forsook plans for two days of leisurely marlin fishing and headed—apparently in a hurry—for San Diego.
     The Coast Guard said it found no evidence of fire or explosion aboard the lifeboat. But at least one person believes there was an explosion aboard the Shooting Star and that it was set off deliberately.
     Private detective Neal Graney, who conducted his own unofficial probe, went so far as to publish a 200-page fictional account—Mayday! Mayday! Morningstar—a thinly disguised rendition of his speculations about what happened. The names, of course, have been changed. Currently, he is trying to market a screenplay based on the same theme. “I know I don’t have a smoking gun,” says the former Chicago policeman. “But, in my gut, I’m sure it was murder.”
     Though long on conjecture and short on proof, he also theorized that one of the men aboard knew the yacht was about to blow up and left in the lifeboat before the explosion. That, he argues, explains the mayday report of nine aboard and the great distance between the discovery place of the lifeboat not only from the sinking site but also from the other debris.
     And the bodies? “There are many reasons,” explains one of Graney’s fictional characters. “When bodies go down to the bottom of the sea, they usually float to the top within two or three days. That is, unless they are in small pieces. Then they are fish bait.” As for the condition of the life preservers, some of them damaged but none demonstrably bloodied, Graney attributes that to the impact of metal or wood fragments from the explosion.
     There is some support, however slender, for Graney’s belief that someone got off the boat alive. One former west Orange County elected official told me he thinks he saw a member of the ill-fated party about three years ago in Hawaii.

Richard O'Neill and family, 1950

     At the time, the former official says he was on the beach near the Pacific Beach Hotel in Waikiki, and the supposedly deceased man crossed the street nearby.
     “It looked so much like him that I just yelled his name without thinking that he was supposed to be dead,” said the vacationer, who was well-acquainted with the Shooting Star passenger he thinks he saw. “He took off and disappeared into the crowd….I’m sure that, when I yelled out, he would have recognized me….It seemed deliberate.”
     Scenarios just as bizarre as Graney’s based more on conjecture than provable fact, have been widely circulated and are passed on by Cella, Battin and others to anyone who asks.
     Details vary, but the essentials are this: Somebody hired either organized crime-related figures or a right-wing paramilitary group to blow the Shooting Star out of the water.
     Implausible as that may seem, there is some evidence that the boat would not normally have sunk, even with the pounding it took from heavy seas. Louis Fallows, co-owner of the Wilmington-based firm that was one of the government’s contractors for the type of naval rescue boat that was rebuilt to create the Shooting Star, is graphically emphatic on that question. She said the boats were built with air-tight compartments that would have buoyed themselves so much that it wouldn’t have sunk completely even if there were a big hole in the hull. “The only thing that would have sunk it would have been if it were blown apart,” she said, without being prompted by being told of theories about an explosion.
     Why anyone would want to deep-six the Shooting Star, especially in the manner Graney suggests, is unclear.

From the 6/24/74 Star-News

     But evidence that Harber and Caspers were up to potentially dangerous mischief at the time surfaced four years later. In 1978, developer Richard V. Jordan alleged in a suit against the county that the two were trying to shake him down for a $10,000 payoff plus $2000 a month for approval of a project he wanted to build near El Toro, in Caspers’ supervisorial district.
     The county settled out of court on Jordan’s claim that the county illegally revoked his building permit, paying him $700,000. The matter was investigated by the district attorney’s office to determine whether persons still alive might be criminally liable, but that probe ended inconclusively.
     As it turns out, preliminary discussion concerning the alleged deal took place in Mexican waters aboard the Shooting Star, Jordan said in papers filed with his lawsuit.
     Before the arrangement could be consummated, however, Caspers, Harber and the others departed on the fateful trip. Ironically, Jordan said, he was invited along, but declined because he didn’t think the Shooting Star was seaworthy. But the Coast Guard cited reports that deficiencies on the boat had been corrected prior to the trip.
     Jordan, the record shows, knew how to seek and obtain remedies for his grievance in a court of law. But one is tempted to ask: Were Harber and/or Caspers using the same routine on anyone else, perhaps someone prone to resort to different—and more violent—remedies?
     That might be a point of departure for any resumed investigation of the disaster. For years, however, there has been no evidence of any official interest in the matter—with one exception. In the past year or so, the FBI, questioning a politically connected Orange County person on a different matter, slipped in some questions about the Shooting Star. That doesn’t amount to a new probe, of course. But ten years later, even a residue of official curiosity at any level is intriguing.
     Still, until the questions left hanging by the official report are answered, who is to say that Graney’s explicit but seemingly farfetched version is wrong? Those questions, of course, may never be answered. And the tale of the last voyage of the Shooting Star may make as good a whodunit ten years from now as it does today.

SEE Part 2

The "Shooting Star" was a converted WWII-era AVR

Background on Fuentes:

• Dear Mr. Fuentes (Nathan Calahan, April 28, 1999)
• GOP's Fuentes Favored to Win 7th Term Chairing O.C. Party (LA Times, January 19, 1997)
• Interview With Tom Fuentes, Part 1 (Red County, September 15, 2008)
• Interview With Tom Fuentes, Part 2 (Red County, September 16, 2008)
• Trouble in the Big Tent (Jean Hastings Ardell, Orange Coast Magazine, March 1996)

• It's Hoffman vs. Sumner, Badham vs. Rosenberg at TV Taping (LA Times, May 20, 1986)

• Changing of the Guard for Orange County GOP - Incoming Chairman Sees Party's Role as 'Anchor to the Right' for State (LA Times, Jan. 7, 1985)

• Guiding With an Iron Hand (LA Times, July 11, 1996)

• Tom Fuentes: professional schmoozer, circumventer of open processes, and THUG

• Tom Fuentes at 34: "consultant"

• Tom Fuentes: ubiquitous paid consultant

• Tom Fuentes and LFC/Lange

• Thanks, Tom Fuentes: incestuous and Cronyistic South Orange County politics

• Tom Fuentes, Caspers' "bagman"?

• The day Fuentes’ boss called Mexican-Americans “banditos”

Unpleasant masks

     A few days ago, I was speaking with some colleagues just outside my office. Rebel Girl then walked up with information about the recent “mute asshole” incident, in which four young men suddenly interrupted a colleague’s lecture by walking into his classroom and standing in different parts of the room, refusing to explain themselves. She informed us that the mask worn by one of the four guys was, specifically, a “horse mask.”
     “A horse mask?” I said.
     “Yeah.”
     I thought about that.
     “Was it an unpleasant horse mask?” I asked.
     “Unpleasant? I dunno.”
     “Unpleasant?” said a colleague from another office. “Did you ask if it was unpleasant?”

* * *

     Today, Rebel Girl informed me that some among us are considering recommending to the IVC mascot replacement workgroup (IVCMRW) that the college adopt the “horse head” to replace the laser.
     “Yeah,” I said. “Horse head.”
     “The fighting horse heads!” exclaimed the Reb.

One end of a spectrum: Mr. Ed

     “The range of possibilities,” she then added, “goes from Mr. Ed on one end to that horse head in the Godfather on the other.”

* * *

     Back in the mid-60s, when it came time to choose a school mascot, students at the newly-opened UC Irvine encountered some corporate condescension in the form of suggestions for the school mascot—accompanied by professionally rendered illustrations. In response, students ignored the Irvine Co’s suggestions and deliberately chose the worst mascot they could think of—an attempt to outdo UC Santa Barbara, I think, whose students had just chosen the “Banana Slugs.”
     And so they chose the “Anteaters.” That really pissed off the Irvine Borg and the other borgs in Borg Land. The students were pleased.

A horse is a horse, of course, of course

     Here at IVC, we managed to outdo those UCI kids. Somehow, though we weren’t even aiming for ridiculosity, we came up with the incomparably lame “IVC Lasers.” With the clarity that only time can provide, we now see that that mascot is a macot a lamer than which cannot be conceived.
     And guess what? A few years ago, we quietly sold our laser (yes, we actually had one). So, now, not only do we have a profoundly lame mascot, but we don’t even have an excuse for choosing it. We are the Lasers in the way that Fountain Valley is a valley with fountains. We are the Lasers in the way that Garden Grove is dominated by gardens and groves.
     We no longer have a laser. But we do have horse heads.

The agenda for Monday's board meeting

     EARLIER TODAY, Chancellor Poertner, as is his custom, announced the availability of the agenda for the next SOCCCD board meeting, which will be held on the 27th (Monday), at 6:00 p.m. (See here: the link is at the bottom right of the opening page.)
     I haven't had a chance to peruse the agenda, but here are the obvious highlights:

These, of course, are the "discussion items" for Monday. Basic Aid allocation is always somewhat controversial. Sparks could fly, though that's unlikely.

I'll try to dig up more info about this (buried, perhaps, in the agenda).

As I recall, the "updating" of these salaries was a hot topic at a board meeting two or three months ago. Now the trustees will have to sign off on it. It's possible that one or two trustees will spoil the possibility of unanimity.

You'll recall that, at the last meeting, Chancellor Poertner pulled a Solomon and cut the ATEP developmental resources baby clean in half. That'll never hold.

Here's a purdy chart that I found in the agenda. Don't these charts make you want to just run screaming into the night?

"Jesus glasses" case: Corbett prevails, period

Supreme Court won't hear appeal of student's anti-Christian lawsuit (OC Reg)
     The U.S. Supreme Court declined to hear an appeal Tuesday from a former high school student who sued his history teacher for disparaging Christianity in class in violation of his First Amendment rights.
     The high court denied Chad Farnan's written demand for a review of the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals decision last year that exonerated Capistrano Valley High School teacher James Corbett.
     "It was not at all surprising that the Supreme Court denied review," said Corbett's attorney, Erwin Chemerinsky, dean of UC Irvine's law school and a constitutional scholar. "The 9th Circuit decision was sound ... and made it clear he could not be held liable."
     The Supreme Court's decision not to hear the Mission Viejo case – in legal terms, denial of Farnan's petition for a writ of certiorari – puts a final lid on a legal battle that spanned more than four years and raised fundamental questions about the limits of what a public school teacher can say about religion in the classroom….

IVC: Waking up with a horse head in your classroom

Mute, menacing

     Last week, I heard from a colleague here at Irvine Valley College who told the following story: he was teaching, and he was in the middle of a difficult lecture when, all of a sudden, four young men entered his classroom, each of them immediately establishing himself in some part of the room. One of them—the one at the back of the room, I think—wore a mask. It was a horse mask.
     Naturally, my instructor friend was taken aback and more than a little annoyed. Clearly peeved, he asked these young men to identify themselves.
     In response, they said nothing. Absolutely nothing. They did nothing. At one point, one of them attempted to make a phone call.
     Many of us, I’m sure, would find in this circumstance a reason for concern. Alarm even. But the friend, a bold fellow, just got pissed and insisted that the young men leave. Eventually, they did. He escorted them out the door. He tried to pull off the one kid's horse mask. No luck—the kids trotted off.
     Wow.
     Later, it came to light that this “invasion of mute assholes” phenomenon has occurred elsewhere on campus. It is by no means an isolated incident. The phenomenon is, I've been told, the result of an assignment given to students in a Sociology course—something about violating social norms and then seeing what happens.

Liz Cipres: her usual level
of competence

     Usually, a friend tells me, this sort of assignment yields such undramatic adventures as staring at the wall in an elevator or just sitting on the floor. —But not entering classrooms with masks. Horse masks. And then refusing to answer. Refusing to leave. That's menacing.
     The instructor friend eventually came into contact with the head Sociology instructor on campus, who wrote him an email. I read it. I don’t know what my friend made of it, but it struck me as condescending. The gist of the email seemed to be, "we can't be blamed if some of our students don't follow our guidelines when completing this assignment." She listed these guidelines. They were clearly of the CYA variety—you know, "don't do it at the college," where, of course, a student's inappropriate behavior might produce ripples that come back to faculty.
     Such an email! I'd be pissed anew.
     Eventually, the matter came to the attention of Liz Cipres, Dean of Counseling Services, who took on the matter with her usual level of competence. Among other things, she suggested that instructors could lock their classroom doors.
     I'm not making this up. That's what she suggested.
     Has something like this happened in one of your classes?
     What is one to make of these disruptive Mute Asshole phenomena—and the assignments that inspire them? And what is one to make of the Sociology Dept's CYA and hand-washing moves?

* * *

     I've decided to be helpful. Based on extensive research, I’ve constructed a handy guide for students who wish to fulfill this assignment. What follows are cool and UNCOOL attempts. Let them be your guide:

FULFILLING THE ASSIGNMENT TO VIOLATE SOCIAL NORMS (BUT NOT AT THE COLLEGE WHERE I COULD GET MY SOCIOLOGY INSTRUCTOR IN TROUBLE):

• Entering Ralphs, then buying your Wheaties in the nude: cool

• Wearing a Scream mask, going to Grandma’s house, ringing the doorbell, and then, when she opens the door, screaming and making threatening gestures: uncool

• A guy (not in Scotland) showing up to church in a cute dress: cool

• A guy showing up to his pro-life, right-wing friend’s birthday party, then gifting said friend with that Beatles album that has the notorious “dead babies” cover: uncool

Etc.