Pick the disaster

It has snowed on a few occasions in Chico that I can recall. But my favorite time was back in the early 2000s while I was attending college.

Back then, I lived deep in the orchards—on a former working almond and walnut farm, where my late granddad raised cattle—just outside of Hamilton City. There, I awoke to tend to my morning chores, including feeding my three horses.

I think they were as surprised as I was when I opened the back door and entered a white winter landscape. They’d never seen snow stick, nor had my German shepherd, who shot up as soon as he heard me put on my jacket. That dog lived to accompany me every morning as I headed for the alfalfa piled in the barn, and the scratchy sound of the synthetic fibers of my favorite down coat resulted in Pavlov’s dog minus the food and drool.

I had enough time to play in the snow, including snapping some photos as evidence, before heading to Chico State, where my classmates were similarly enthralled.

Fast-forward to Tuesday morning of this week, when I awoke to a snow-covered yard, and my reaction was less enthusiastic. I shot out of bed when my husband called out to me about it, but my thoughts quickly turned to the folks who live on Chico’s streets.

I cringe when I think about them enduring this bitter cold. Given the situation with the Red Cross—first booting the so-called “predisaster homeless” from the emergency shelter at the fairgrounds and then moving on to certain Camp Fire evacuees—there likely are more people unsheltered in Chico than ever before.

There’s nothing like a natural disaster to bring people together, so I had a bit of hope after the wildfire that we’d see more support locally in terms of services for our poverty-stricken neighbors. And not just those who lost shelter due to the fire, but also those who’ve long struggled with homelessness.

There are some potentially fruitful irons in the fire on that front in Chico—such as proposals for a year-round low-barrier shelter and a frigid-temperature emergency option (see Ashiah Scharaga’s City Council report, on page 10, to learn more about the latter)—but I’m also seeing a lot of negativity in response. That includes a woman who says she’s gathered 2,000 signatures of local people who want the panel to prohibit the aforementioned low-barrier shelter from being run near churches, neighborhoods or downtown. Evidently, she’s unaware of the one that’s been operating seasonally without issue for years.

Sadly, I’ve come to the conclusion that people’s memories are short when it comes to disasters. Let’s remember that, over the last decade or so, plenty of them have laid waste to people’s lives. Take, for example, the Great Recession. That catastrophic economic nightmare—largely attributable to Wall Street and real estate fraud—destabilized the lives of at least 4 million homeowners, via foreclosure.

Or, consider the opioid crisis—largely spurred because the drugs are cheap or were over-prescribed by doctors courted by pharmaceutical companies—a malady that has killed millions and left others dependent, broken and unhoused.

Whatever disaster, we’re still talking about human beings. There’s no debating that.