There was a new moon that night so it was dark and there was nary a light visible on the cul de sac. The gate was up, absorbed by the night, but I could see the stone wall on each side in my headlights. They probably still don't suspect that I know about the gate.
When I knocked on Julie's heavy wooden door, Eric opened it slowly and asked in whisper if I would wait in the hall for a minute. As I stepped in I immediately heard the loud, angry voice of a young girl. "Ian and Ariana's daughter Becca is throwing one of her fits," Eric explained apologetically.
Actually I could see into the living room from the hall and I thought of how often we used to gather there for potluck suppers. The Williams’ home resembles a rustic mountain lodge. It's large and rambling with big log-beamed ceilings. Though more worn and far darker now than I remember, it looks basically the same. Native American blankets hanging from the second story balcony above the living room. Plump oversized leather chairs and couches clustered around an open stone fireplace that serves both the living room and dining room it divides. As always there were carpets on the wood plank floors and bright colored pillows of bold Native American designs tossed about on the furniture and around the hearth.
Except for Ariana, all the adults from the cul de sac were gathered there around the fire that along with a few candles was providing the only light in the room. Julie's daughter Wren was sitting by her mother, looking obviously upset. Becca was standing in the middle of the group yelling, tears running down her face.
"I hate it here! I hate it!" she cried.
Pulling off the bulky sweater she was wearing she threw it to the floor with all the force she could muster. It slapped loudly against the coffee table as it fell.
"It's always cold here and these ugly clothes!" she spouted. “Just look at you! You look like a bunch of field hands! Well, I won't do it. I'd rather freeze!"
The group was dressed, as folks in Katani Falls customarily were, in faded blue jeans or dusty chinos or corduroys with varying layers of sweaters, turtlenecks, sweatshirts and flannel jackets. Except for Kali who wore a heavy ankle-length cotton skirt and had a natural wool shawl draped over her shoulders. Her long black hair created a dramatic backdrop for startling teal blue eyes. Also, as is the custom here, all were wearing some form of heavy outdoor shoes or boots.
Sans sweater Becca looked decidedly out of place wearing a tight, light-weight low-cut tee that showed off the contours of her small but budding breasts and her tall, slender, almost waif-like body. Her sandy hair had been cut in a stylist short wedge that had grown out so it fell awkwardly across her face. Her skinny jeans were tucked into a pair of black suede Ed Hardy Love Kills Snowblazer boots that came over her calves and folded into a thick fleece cuff. The Love Kills design featured a scarlet skull surrounded by floral swirls.
"What's wrong with you people? All you care about is returning to the Dark Ages! And you've killed Muffy!” she continued, turning to her father. “You wouldn't have done that is she were bigger. If she were Sentry or Coon you would have spent the money. I know you would. Or are we paupers now?"
Her voice was growing ragged and hoarse from the yelling. Her razor sharp eyes zeroed in on her father, who was sitting in stunned silence along with everyone else. "You're mean! Cruel! Evil! " she muttered between clenched teeth before folding over onto her knees in wrenching tears.
Julie got up and went to put her arms around Becca. I looked over to Eric who was still standing in the hallway with me. "Ian had their Maltese put down this afternoon," he explained quietly. "The dog was 14 years old and had a heart problem. Their vet in LA offered to do open-heart surgery for an estimated $7,000, but Ian decided against it."
Open-heart surgery for a pet? My mind was spinning at the incongruity of it all and wondering who Sentry and Coon were. By then Ian had gotten up too and reached out to comfort his daughter. She stood and collapsed against his chest in tears.
"I'll buy you a pair of those grey UGGs you've been wanting," he said soothingly. "We're not paupers. Not yet. We're going to be fine." He looked lost and desperate, almost like a young boy, his sandy hair falling willy nilly across his forehead not unlike his daughter's.
After a few minutes, Wren got up and went to hug her friend. A good foot taller, Becca turned and looked down at her. "Oh, Wren, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean I hate you. Or that you dress ugly." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Wren picked up the discarded sweater from the floor and draped it over Becca’s shoulders.
"It's not that cold in my room, Becca, let's go upstairs and talk," she said taking Becca by the hand.
As the two girls left the room Eric cleared his throat to let everyone know I was there. Julie turned to me smiling. "Please come in, Rose," she said. "I'm sorry for all this upset."
"Yes, do come in," Ian reiterated, composing himself. "Becca hasn't been well. The asthma, you know."
"Would you like some tea or some hot mulled wine?" Julie interjected. I declined and they made room for me on couch in front of the fireplace.
It was immediately clear that Ian would be leading the “meeting.” His demeanor had shifted and he began to speak in the soft, measured voice of someone who is used to people hanging on his every word.
"I think you know all of us," he began. "I'm Ian. I've seen you at the Clinic. My wife isn't with us tonight. Not feeling up to it. Julie and Rachel, Lori and Eric, you know, of course. And this is Boo and Nessa, Raine and Kali."
As I said hello I could feel the tension in the room was building, not ebbing.
"As I guess you know from Eric we're engaging in some activities up here to address the fact that our community is pretty much going under," he paused, "along with the whole country." After assuring himself that I had indeed committed to keep everything they told me in the strictest of confidence, he paused again, took a breath and blew it out slowly.
"We're creating a homestead," he explained, "an eco-village in essence that can be a model for the rest of our community to show how we can be self-reliant here in Katani Falls and make it through the coming collapse of the US economy.”
No one except me seemed startled by his use of the term "collapse." To hear that spoken and received so matter-of-factly sent a chill down my spine. Is that really what lies ahead? Collapse?
Ian then proceeded to describe their goals and projects. No one else said much and once he finished they took me on a tour of the "homestead."
I didn't follow all of the technical details of what was laid out for me, but I will try as best I can to provide an overview. The "homestead" idea started after Eric got an old diesel truck and started distilling cooking oil, or what they call biodiesel, to fuel it. He gets cooking oil from our only remaining eatery - Burger, Fries, and Pizza – and makes fuel from it in his garage.
Soon after telling his neighbors about this, it was decided that Eric would do the in-town shopping for the households on the cul de sac. It was like a buying co-op and it meant they had to get together to coordinate orders and arrange for pick up times. One thing led to another and they began doing more things collectively ... sharing tools ... exchanging things they didn't need with one another, etc., until one night Ian suggested they should see just how self-reliant they could become on their cul de sac.
That was before Boo and Nessa moved here. Ian knew the Irish couple from an event he put on for his company where Boo's band was playing. It turns out both Boo and Nessa spent part of their childhood's living in what's called an intentional "eco-village." Nessa in Findhorn, Scotland, one of the oldest and most well-known of such communities. Neither liked the experience at the time and had moved to London by the time they met. But, Ian explained, during the event that night the couple mentioned how in today's economy a self-sustaining community like that might be our only hope for a decent future. The couple mentioned they were looking for somewhere in proximity of LA to create such a living arrangement.
Ian brought the idea back to the cul de sac and Boo and Nessa were invited to move into the vacant house on the east side of Altos to help create an eco-village. But they're not renting it. They’re squatting!! The house was empty, in foreclosure but not selling, and no one from the bank had been up to check the house in the two year’s they've lived here.
Their goal is to produce as much food, water, energy, and other needs as possible themselves and whenever possible purchase everything else here in Katani Falls. With Boo and Nessa's expertise they're on the way to becoming ecologically self-sustaining and have the intention of getting entirely "off the "grid" some time this year. The more Ian talked the less tension I felt in the room, particularly when he said showing me was going to be a lot clearer than telling. So we all bundled up in our coats for a "tour of the premises."
One by one from a central switch, Ian flicked on low lighting across the back of the four houses. Behind three of them was a wide meadow beyond which was the forest. There they had planted an outdoor garden in raised beds or cold frames and built two greenhouses. One is a heated feeder greenhouse where plants can be started and the other is a larger hoop greenhouse that's not heated where greens can be produced all winter long. And greens there are aplenty. But I didn't recognize most of the vegetables. They’re growing primarily cool season Asian vegetables, I learned because they grow faster and are much heartier, more abundant, disease and wilt resistant, use less water and have a higher caloric value than the vegetables we Americans are more familiar with.
Located in the shadier forested area behind Julie's house is a small barn and a chicken coop. Yes, a coop for chickens that lay eggs! (Did you know hens can produce eggs without a rooster?) There are also two goats for milk and cheese, and a pond stocked with fish. Two llamas protect the property from predators like bears, coyotes, wolves and mountain lions, which they will stomp to death if need be! The llamas, being grazers, are tethered to 30' foot ropes. They also come in handy I discovered for hauling and carting and their hair can be woven into yarn for knitting or rope, as well as for felt. Even their manure is a godsend because the soil on our mountain is not good for growing.
Off the barn on the north is a wood pellet mill they purchased and built from a kit to manufacture their own pellets for heating three of the homes in the winter, using wood the Forest Service makes available to the public when thinning the forest.
All this, of course, is why they have six-foot fences between their houses – none of these things are allowed under our zoning or building codes. Because Raine is the ranger for our forest he’s the only one from Forest Service who sees what’s going on from the back of their homes. He winked at me when Ian mentioned this and commented, “You didn’t hear him say that.”
They already grow most of their produce I was told and they hunt for rabbit, squirrel (yuck!), quail, and once a year during hunting season, one deer, which they share. Hence, Coon - Raine's hunting dog.
Sentry it turns out is a Border Collie. She protects the two barn cats that keep rodents away and constantly patrols the perimeter of the properties to ward off deer, etc. and prevent Heron from eating the fish.
Despite the fact the dogs were following at our heals, I could see at once that they were not "pets." These are working animals. Poor Muffy, was my only thought. She was indeed a luxury here.
A small orchard has been cut out of the forest for two rows of fruit trees, none of which he said are bearing yet. Water from the stream that runs along the back of the south end of the cul de sac is being diverted to create the pond and to provide water for the growing the food, which includes using what they call grey water. The grey water is only for the garden, greenhouses and orchard.
Such water diversion, of course, violates mandates of probably a half dozen federal, state, and local agencies.
Electricity for their “village” is being generated by solar panels on the two smaller cabins that have wide south-facing roofs and some other source they didn't explain that's related to a boggy-looking catchment area off the pond. Evidently they reserve the electricity they’re generating primarily for running equipment and of course for Ian's Internet connection. So they’re not totally off grid. I guess that’s not actually legal either. But there are no TV's and they use as few household appliances as they can, Ian said.
Apparently that accounts for the sheets to my surpise there were sheets drying on clotheslines in Julie’s dining room. I'm going to have to find out more about that later. Does this something to do with why Becca is always so cold?
After the tour, on the way back to house, there was one more stop. A storage room off the back of Julie's house is stacked with what looks like money. They're planning to establish a local currency just for use here in Katani Falls. It's all printed and, I was assured, completely legal. Though I’ve read about this online, seeing "printed money" stacked up in rows left me feeling even more stunned by what I was seeing than I already was. And Ian was about to make matters worse.
"This is why we decided to have you here tonight," Ian commented as we headed back into Julie's living room. "The time is near that we must let the rest of the community in on what we're doing. We can't keep doing this by ourselves. It has to become a community-wide effort. We're proof it can be done and now we have to share it."
Eric interrupted at this point. It was the first time anyone other than Ian had made a substantive comment since the "meeting" began and I had to wonder, was this more of their secretiveness, assuring I would hear only one vetted version of the story, or was Ian intimidating to everyone else in some way?
"You're probably wondering how we've financed all this?" Erik interjected while I pondered why no one else was talking. True, I had been wondering about that too, as well as how long it had taken them to create all this. Eric glanced over at Ian before continuing. Ian dipped his chin in approval, reinforcing my concern about just what his role was.
"Ian and Adriana were going to move the family back to LA once Adriana got better, but instead they had sold their house there for far less than it was once worth to fund the activities we've been carrying out over the past two years. Just this fall he also sold the stock he owned in the company where he works so we'll have funds in reserve for the other plans on the drawing board."
"You have other plans?" I asked, amazed that there could be more.
"Yes," Ian stepped back in. "In addition to the community currency, which is essential if we're going to have a reasonably self-reliant economy here, we're purchasing a table-top manufacturing unit so we can fabricate parts for our equipment. I know how to use the software and can adapt it to our needs. Eventually it and the wood pellet mill can serve the entire community and ultimately grow into an industry for the region.
"We're also recruiting key people to move here - a homeopathic pharmacist, a holistic vet, various types of technicians and security experts. As an incentive we plan to house them rent free like Boo and Nessa in some of the many vacant homes here. Hopefully we’ll be able to provide them and everyone else here in Katani Falls with a minimal amount of self-generated energy too."
Eric picked up. "We've been able to do all this over the past two years because Boo, Nessa, Julie and I have been working at this pretty much full time, while the others are bringing in income from their work for our personal needs.”
"But now," Ian took over again, "we need you. Or so Eric tells us."
"Me?" I asked wanting to disappear into the couch cushions.
"Yes, Eric tells us, and Julie has confirmed, that you are an expert communicator who can get past controversy and bring diverse elements of a community together around common goals."
I began ringing my hands and quickly stopped by tucking them under my hips. I knew he was referring to the community meeting years ago when I, and a lot of others, helped prevent an attempt to turn Katani Falls into a regional tourist center.
Julie was sitting on her hands too and looked at me as if to signal she understood how I must be feeling. Then she abruptly jumped to her feet and cut in.
"Why don't we let Rose absorb all this over the holidays and then we can get together again and she can tell us what she thinks we need to do to bring the community on board?"
That sounded just GREAT to me! "Yes!" I blurted out probably far too enthusiastically. I quickly reigned myself in and told them how very impressed, actually astonished, I was at what they had accomplished and thanked them for entrusting me with what I knew was highly sensitive information.
At that point Julie reached over and gave me a big hug, which the group took as agreement that would be how we'd proceed. Everyone rose and there were hugs and many holiday wishes all around. Though it felt somewhat forced, the mood in the front hall as we donned our coats again was upbeat and celebratory.
I haven’t digested the implications of all this yet. The holidays are here and I have to just set it all a side for now. Ned is back from the city for the week and Mark, Chelsea, and I will be having Christmas dinner over at Gloria's. If only I could talk to them about all this.
What do you think? Should I get involved in this? Is it too good to be true? Have they gone about this in the wrong way by being so secretive and violating to many codes without permits or variances? Can their good intentions for the community be salvaged somehow? It seems to be an overwhelming task. They’ve literally created another world that holds nearly breath-taking promise.
Please le me know your thoughts and comments. Sarah also said she would set up a poll.
I hope you will all have a joyous yuletide season.
Rose
© Sarah Anne Edwards, 2009
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