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Best Bets: Reserve a Revolutionary War Adventure for the Spring! |
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| March 30, 2006 7:27 PM | |||||
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I'm not expecting much from the
Press Enterprise article tomorrow. I've had several
conversations with
Imran Ghori over the last few days and he consistently refuses to
print any of the positive comments that have been made about us in Oak
Glen, including comments made by both the Wildlands Conservancy and Oak
Tree Village. The online version of the Press Enterprise
didn't include today's article, so I can't link it, but he tells the story
as though the complaining minority actually represents the community.
Back when
Karin Marriott was covering the farm controversy, she at least quoted
both sides of the struggle. Imran Ghori and his editors seem
to have been given some sort of marching orders against us.
One of Imran Ghori's colleagues asked me what value there was in teaching
the story of the American Revolution to children. Say
again, Imran? What value is there in teaching American
history, Imran? The story of our country, Imran?
Imran Ghori, what planet do you live on? Like I say, I'm not expecting much. |
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| March 30, 2006 4:54 PM | |||||
The person who lives in this house
doesn't think Riley's Farm fits in with the character of Oak Glen. Here's one of our buildings, which must have caused the offense:
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| March 30, 2006 7:19 AM | |||||
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Yesterday I wrote about the "purely
residential" interest in Oak Glen--those folks who don't understand why
apple orchards need to attract customers directly to their farms in the
global economy. These are the folks who can't understand
why the largest land-owner in Oak Glen, the Wildlands Conservancy, might
want to build a campground for kids.
They are in league, to some extent, with another Oak Glen element--the marginally profitable retailer. At the outset let me just say that the profitable retailers in town support us. We work closely with Terry Fox of Oak Tree Village and the Wilshire family of Wilshire's Apple Shed. We're on good terms with Parrish Pioneer Ranch and the landlord of Los Rios Rancho, the Wildlands Conservancy, has congratulated us on our conditional use permit. David Myers, the executive director, even told us that he would be dead set against any environmental suit the opponents might bring. Mert Hudson, of Snow-Line Orchards, has told me he can't even hear our tours and that he supports them. Kent Colby, of Law's Restaurant, has told me he loves what we do. Shortly before this whole affair broke out, I had a conversation with Alison Law, the owner of Mom's Country Orchards, and she looked at our school busses in the parking lot. "You guys," she said, "are the only ones who have business in Oak Glen today." I suppose a warning bell should have sounded at that point, because it underscores a shift in the pattern of business here in Oak Glen. When my brother, Dennis Riley, introduced and pioneered u-pick in Oak Glen, some of the old time apple farmers were skeptical. Now everyone wants to pick their own apples. Dennis didn't invent the idea of u-pick, or living history for that matter, but he was instrumental in making Oak Glen a more "experiential" place. As Mert Hudson of Snow-line orchards told me, "people used to ask me what they can buy; now they ask me what they can do." Third
generation fruit stand retailers, who have branched out into
furniture and antiques and souvenirs get a little uncomfortable with this.
They like opening the store, chatting with their customers, and counting
the drawer at the end of the day. They think of
the Rileys as "showmen" and they don't really like the idea of having to
entertain and educate their customers.
Alison Law has even said that dressing up as 18th century farmers is
"dishonest." I've told Alison, several
times, that she is a good story-teller, that she should start hosting
workshops, start telling the story of her family here in Oak Glen, and
that she should consider adding "education" to her retail, but she doesn't
like taking advice from an upstart kid. |
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| March 29, 2006 5:58 PM | |||||
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Get ready for a BIG news story this
weekend in the Press Enterprise. One of the reporters
told me that my brother Dennis Riley and my nephew Devon Riley are
more or less pleased with the compromise we struck at the planning
commission last week, so this next stage of the fight is going to shift
directions, towards another faction of their cause. Of
course, the opposition will always say that we're nothing but a war
re-enactment, ignoring the candle dipping and the cow milking and the
fruit picking and the
fiddler who is--even now--warming up in the public house.
The problem is, as I've said all along, they are using the small scale
living history skirmish we feature to mask what some of the purely
residential Oak Glen people really
think: they just don't like you.
You might be the church group that spends a weekend at one of the camps. They are worried one of your teenagers will laugh too loud, too late at night. You might be an apple picking family who has made Oak Glen an annual tradition. They are deathly afraid you will wander onto their property. You might be a youth group singing songs around a campfire. They don't see the 2000 gallons per minute fire hydrant; they are quite certain you will light their homes on fire. They sit in their living rooms and they worry. They worry about you. They don't want you up here, and they don't understand, at all, why we want you up here. Oak Glen is their sanctuary, not yours. Our land use consultant watched a woman at the planning commission the other week. She refused to look at our video, featuring the children's education program. She didn't want to be convinced. She didn't want to be touched. She was convinced that bringing visitors to Oak Glen would mean a threat to her home and she would not deviate from that course. She had decided to hate our business, and nothing we said or did would ever change her mind. This is the most troubling part of the entire controversy, because some of these people will not listen to reason and are, in fact, troubled by logic. The truth cramps their comfortable prejudice. One Oak Glen resident built a nice home nearly right on top of a petting zoo that has existed in Oak Glen for more than 50 years. He promptly began complaining about a feature of the landscape that was there before he ever arrived. In our case, some of our neighbors to the north have complained that we make Oak Glen "too commercial." One of them said, "I wish it was the way it was when Blackie Wilshire was here." If Blackie were here, however, and things were "the way they were," this neighbor wouldn't be here either. "Open the door for me," in other words, "so that I can lock everyone else out behind me." This attitude is not universal, even in the people who express it on occasion, but it's the single largest threat to Oak Glen as a vital agricultural region. If you want to live next to a farm and smell the apple blossoms, you better understand the farmer's need to sell more than just the produce of his land. Farmers need to sell scenery: they need to sell breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They need to put people up for the night. They need to bring out the banjo and serenade the kids around the campfire. They need to be creative about the market and uses of open space. Camps are perfect on a farm. Living history is more than just appropriate on a farm. Living history is farming. You could make the argument that all living history apart from agriculture isn't really living history at all, since our ancestors didn't spend a great deal of their time in manicured parks, pitching tents next to tennis courts. If a few Oak Glen country squires have their way, the living history we perform here will be consigned to state run parks where the closest thing you will see to a "crop" is the manicured boxwood hedge next to the ranger's office. If your correspondence is any indication, that isn't going to happen. |
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| March 29, 2006 11:38 PM | |||||
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| March 29, 2006 7:17 PM | |||||
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We received word from the county
this afternoon that some of the implacable brigade in Oak Glen had used
the wrong form to appeal the decision of the planning commission on our
behalf. Presumably, they will get it right tomorrow and we
will need to go to the Board of Supervisors to get our conditional use
permit upheld.
The gloves are off.
You want a fight? You are going to get
one. |
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| March 29, 2006 6:13 AM | |||||
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Jeff Horwitz wrote
a very objective piece in the Sun this morning, so he has our thanks
for putting an impartial eye to the Riley's Farm
land use controversy. "Firm but fair" is fine
with me--for both journalists and civil servants.
Mario used the old John Deere to turn up the flower field, so we're hoping for a colorful planting soon. The Raspberry patch is going to be beyond belief this year. I haven't measured it, but it might even be three acres in size. I'm thinking about stagger planting the sweet corn this year, starting early, so we can have enough for the dinners on time each week. This wet spring is making summer look better and better. |
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| March 28, 2006 3:55 PM | |||||
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Jeff Horwitz
over at the San Bernardino Sun called me today about the code enforcement
sweep in Oak Glen. The poor guy made the mistake of
telling me we had no supporters in Oak Glen, so I called around a bit, and
then rang him back. "It looks like I'm getting a lot of
calls," he said. He went on to say it's
about code enforcement, not Riley's Farm. This was the
same paper that received a copy of 4,000 of our support letters and
refused to reference even one, so I'm not holding my breath.
He sounded like a fair guy, though. Oak Glen citizens! (I know some of you read this humble journal.) Why don't we work together to come up with zoning standards that protect the people who want to be just "residents" and the people who want to open up their farms to the public? Why don't we work for both the common good and individual property rights at the same time? |
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| March 27, 2006 5:51 PM | |||||
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Oh, brother. The
Press Enterprise dropped by today--two reporters!--and wanted my
comments on a pending code enforcement sweep in Oak Glen.
I said, "look, peace is breaking out in Oak Glen--progress, harmony, maybe
even a family truce. We gave up most of our musket
shots. They beat us. We're sort
of happy. They're happy. Why write an
article about a war?" They wouldn't quite have that. I even told them that I have no ill-will for Alison Law; it's my Christian duty to love my enemies. They still wanted the scoop. I said, "look; you know why
there are so many code violations in Oak Glen?
Because we're not developers. We don't have the money, by and
large, to pay for $8,000 traffic studies and $25,000 consultants, and
$13,000 conditional use permit application fees.
If you want peace in Oak Glen, adopt a general plan that encourages
agritourism, that makes it easy for a farmer to open to the public." |
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| March 27, 2006 | |||||
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We've had a small patch of spring
for the last few days--warm enough to melt off the snow of last weekend
and show off the green orchard carpet. We're
expecting a little rain tomorrow, so if you are attending our
Revolutionary War adventures, remember this year's weather watch-words
"Ridiculous Over-Preparation."
Wear layers, warm clothing, extra
socks, hats, gloves, water-tight shoes. Bring umbrellas,
blankets, the works. (It's better to leave some of this gear in the
car or the bus than be miserable out in the weather.) |
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| March 25, 2006 | |||||
| I should point out that in many ways Thursday's vote was a victory for our detractors--and a victory for them, get this, that I applaud. One of the great things about our system is that it facilitates compromise. In this case, our potential complainers will have a public document, our conditions of approval, which they can use to observe and report on our business behavior. Yesterday, we observed a six musket shot maximum and we think we can pull of the tours with that restriction. In the next few weeks, as well, our detractors will also be formulating their own response to the demands of code enforcement and we look forward to a less hostile environment in working out compromises and flexible standards. David Meyers of the Wildlands Conservancy called me yesterday to congratulate us on the CUP approval and we both agreed that we hope the community can move forward. Who knows? Maybe Denny, Scott, and I can even bury the hatchet. If the Hatfields and the McCoys can, maybe the Rileys can? | |||||
| March 24, 2006 | |||||
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Yesterday was a bruising day at the
county chambers. We won, but it wasn't without an entire
morning of name-calling and fear-mongering.
Some residents called us a "shooting park." Others
feared we would light the valley on fire. Others
asserted we were clogging Oak Glen road, mixing us up with my nephew
Devon's place. The highlight, however, was a
furious woman who claimed baby bear carcasses were found on Oak Glen road
near our property. (!) One of our employees, Krystle Bender,
had arrived intending not to speak but became so distraught by the
invective of the other side, that she stood up to the podium.
During her compelling testimony, she got a little emotional and started to
cry. One of our most vicious detractors, actually
started to mock her in the audience, yelling "boo-hoo."
It was in such poor taste that even the planning commissioners winced.
As the commission was nearing the vote, one Oak Glen business person was
heard to shout "shut-em-down! shut-em-down!"
(I must give credit to Dennis Riley, though, in that he applauded our
educational program and limited his complaint to the issues he cares
about.) On a Thursday Morning, it's difficult to get people out to speak their minds, but we had our share of supporters, including Robert Brooks, a parent who drove all the way from Van Nuys. Freeman House, the owner of a contiguous farm spoke eloquently on behalf of both Oak Glen and our farm. Cindy Ferry dropped a business appointment to speak on our behalf. As I mentioned yesterday, Ed. St. Germain, an attorney, historian, and Viet Nam veteran, gave a riveting endorsement. The great grandsons of Joe Wilshire, Greg Anton and Keith Broaders told of how the Riley family has helped preserve their family's farm and Keith said that in a year of living in Oak Glen, he rarely hears anything but the sound of children having a good time. We also presented all of your letters, which numbered more than 4,800 long and detailed narratives of your support. At one point, one of the commissioners said "I think we all agree the service Riley's Farm is providing is important, so let's just try to get the two sides together." The county fire marshal was tough but utterly fair, and concluded he believed the project would be a success from the perspective of fire safety and that we had agreed to go "beyond expectations" with respect to fire suppression. At the last minute, there was some procedural question as to whether we should continue the session until some of the conditions could be worked out, and that seemed to be the only thing that divided the commissioners--not the application itself. The vote was taken so quickly, I almost didn't know what had happened, when someone stuck out a hand to me and said, "congratulations." A word to those in Oak Glen who don't like us or our application: Isn't there at least some merit in our sitting down with each other, here on the farm, where we can discuss the issues that concern you, where you can walk the place and see what we do? If you are willing to talk, we certainly are. As Freeman House said, closing his remarks at the podium, "I pray for peace!" |
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| March 23, 2006 5:26 PM | |||||
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The San Bernardino Planning
Commission voted 3-2 to approve the Riley's Farm Conditional Use Permit
today. More news later. I'm taking a breath!
(Our friend Ed St. Germain, of
americanrevolution.org,
who gave a compelling statement on behalf of the farm pointed out to me,
by email, after the meeting, that he had been thinking March 23rd was a
signal date for some reason, and then it occurred to him:
March 23rd was the date Patrick Henry gave his "Give me Liberty!" speech
in 1775.) |
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| March 22, 2006 6:49 AM | |||||
 Tomorrow
five county planning commissioners will take the first step
in deciding whether a living history farm is an
appropriate land use for Oak Glen. (That's
where the decision will be made, there on the right.) If you
can drop by tomorrow a little before 9:00 AM, we would be grateful.
(Even better, if you can read our information link
about the issues, before you arrive, you'll know what we're up against.)Last night, I printed out all of the letters of support you have emailed us over the last two years. They are, quite, simply, beyond belief in both their volume, their conviction and their passion. Some of you have made our farm and our family a second home. Some of you teachers have become our fast friends and have made the Revolutionary War, Civil War and California History trips part of your yearly calendar. Some of your comments have brought my father, my wife, and my mother, "Grandma Bea" to tears. I want you to know how humbling that friendship is. Riley's Farm became what it is today, through the efforts of dozens of people, here in the family--including some of those now, who, unfortunately have become the farm's enemies. In a very real sense, though, it would not be anything like what it is today without all of you. A thing of beauty and wonder--an apple orchard, a drum and fife corps, a gathering of 18th century townsfolk--just cries out to be shared. There isn't a time when I don't walk through the orchards, alone, and I don't have the urge to say, "isn't that incredible?" You have all been right there, at one time or another, nodding your heads, chiming in, telling us about your grandfather's farm, or your ancestors role in the American Revolution or your Montana cousin's dude ranch or, for some of you who are new to America, your deep gratitude to your new country. Sharing that heritage with you has been one of the great gifts of our time here in Oak Glen. Thank you all and God Bless. |
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| March 21, 2006 7:10 AM | |||||
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It's pretty cold out there for the
first day of spring, but as I understand these matters, that is good tree
news--except for our poor, early blossom peach.
(Maybe this will be a peach year where we get 3 big enormously fat peaches
per tree.) Personally, I think that's why agritourism is such
a great idea. In years when you don't get the "agri,"
you can at least avoid selling the farm to developers if you can get the
"tourism" revenue. Write about what you know department: land use. I guess I first became discouraged about Oak Glen land use and the community plan review process when I attended a meeting two or three years ago and I proposed this radical notion: "can we at least agree that every rural living zone property owner ought to be able to build a fruit stand and sell apple cider without enduring a public hearing?" "Oh, no!" came a worried response, from someone who didn't want any fruit-pickers, or buyers, anywhere near her property. "We can't have that." "So," I said, "if someone buys five or ten acres of apple trees, you don't want them to be able to sell their fruit?" "They can sell their fruit to us," piped up another Oak Glen business person, who had an operating fruit stand. "Wait a second," I said, "I'm not talking about a living history farm or big school tours or a restaurant. I'm talking about a fruit stand. You don't want an apple orchard owner to have undisputed rights to opening a fruit stand?" "No," said the worried woman. "If they have a public hearing," said the fruit stand operator. "A public hearing and mitigation studies to open a fruit stand?" I asked--without receiving a response. I think it was at that point, or shortly thereafter, that we decided to work in greater earnest on our conditional use permit, because if this community, (or at least those brash enough to speak out), wanted both more apple trees and fewer fruit stands to sell them, it seemed almost impossible to talk them into our version of a compatible use--a living history farm. When I review the petitions for and against our project within the community itself, it appears that we have more supporters than detractors, but public meetings are consumed by those who are passionate on either side of the issue, not by those who want to jump in between a bull dog and his prey. Pity, then, the poor planning staff and those who have to listen to all of this--including all of you. You have to determine who is telling the truth, who is protecting their own property interest at the expense of their neighbor, who is manufacturing tales of false impact, and who is not. More later.
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| March 20, 2006 7:03 PM | |||||
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Tonight, I talked to one of our
fiddlers about the hate campaign Dennis Riley has been waging against
me--his poor, loving, little brother! Ryan
Cross and his fiancé are toying with the idea of getting married over at
Los Rios, a fine, beautiful establishment, but one that is run, by someone
who is trying to run me
out of town, my nephew, Devon Riley. (His
landlord, David Meyers of the Wildlands Conservancy, likes our place.)
Anyway, I said to Ryan, "why don't you pick a neutral spot?
That way, all of the family can get together. Maybe we could
even have a truce." Back to our fiddler. "They're jealous of you, Jim. You found a way to make the land work without building homes and they hate you for it." "Think so?" I said. "Know so," she said. -------------------------------------------------- I've been re-reading some of the complaints that were first filed with our CUP application, nearly two years ago. One of them--get this--is that we're just out to "make a buck." That seemed to be the theme behind Alison Law's and Dennis Riley's comments. Well, the simple fact is that I used to make more as a computer consultant, take home, than I make now. It's not about money. Everything we make we pour back into the farm--new cider barns, new fire suppression systems, new tree plantings. People also seem to have some sort of weird trust in non-profit operations, even though most of the management at a non-profit makes a considerably better salary than the "upper management" at this place. Oh well. Go figure. |
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| March 19, 2006 10:55 PM | |||||
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We had a great St. Patrick's Day up
at the packing shed, complete with a real extended Irish family (the
Reillys) encouraging me, (the poor MC), on at the microphone.
Andy Rau, Kathy and Freeman sounded great, and our Packing Shed Minstrels
did honor to McNamara's Band and Sweet Maggy O'Grady.
It isn't often that you pick up an employee like Susan Usher, who, in
addition to having 20 years of U.S. Navy discipline, can play a
solid parlor piano as well. My daughter
Mallory and Krystle Bender kicked up their heels as step dancers, and we
even had Grandma and Grandpa Riley there to enjoy the festivities.
Steve Otta took a turn singing "Danny Boy." This is going to be an interesting week for Riley's Farm and the Riley family--both feuding branches. This Thursday, March 23, 2006, the San Bernardino Planning Commission will take the first step in effectively deciding the future of Riley's Farm by taking an up or down vote on our Conditional Use Permit Application. We received a very heavy package in the mail Saturday night, which included documentation on some of the neighbors who wanted the County of San Bernardino to put an end to all of our profitable operations--the Revolutionary War Adventure, our bakery, and our camping programs. I want to thank some of those neighbors who had no part in complaining and who have expressed verbal support for our farm: Kent Colby of Law's Restaurant, David Meyers of the Wildlands Conservancy/Los Rios, Dianne Ellsworth and the Ellsworth family, The Wilson Family of Oak Tree Village, Paula Taylor, The Burkle Family of Parrish Pioneer Ranch, Sam McLaughlin of the Red Barn, Bo & Shea Downey of Downey Traders, Mike Hummel and family, The Mracek Family, The Wilshire Family, Helmi Merkley of the Oak Glen School House Museum, the Anton Family, the Broaders Family, The Sillers Family, and the folks at Pilgrim Pines and the Christian Conference Center. (Those are a few from memory, but they already outnumber a group of people I call, 'The Implacables.') We are also receiving reports that code enforcement is beginning to visit some of the establishments that originally complained about us and that a few Oak Glen businesses are starting to complain that the law they wanted brought down on us is about to be brought down on them. (Invitation to all Oak Glen businesses and residences: why don't we finally start acting like a community and craft flexible standards we can all live by?) |
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| March 17, 2006 7:23 AM | |||||
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Happy St. Patrick's Day to you all!
(I'm wearing green stockings by the way, so don't pinch me.) Tonight, we're going to have a feast, hayride, Irish-American music and some beautiful girls Irish step dancing (my daughter, Mallory, and one of our great farm cooks, Krystle Bender). There's still a little room, so sign up! (This might even be a white & green St. Patrick's as we're expecting a few snow flurries.) Last night--tired, blue, and a little angry at the world--I lay back on the couch between rounds of a game of LIFE Lockton had proposed. (College, computer consultant, $100,000 a year. Does Milton Bradley know something?) Mallory stuck a set of headphones on me and on came the Andrews Sisters ("Boogie-Woogie Bugle Boy of Company B"). I had the strange, giddy feeling that underneath all the world's conflicts--underneath all the stupid, vane, arrogant people the Lord makes us share a universe with--there is a big band playing somewhere. I saw a ripple of dancing feet moving through the ranks of soldiers, marching back from the battle, and not into the battle. It was a Victory dance, God having the last laugh and sharing it with His people. This was confirmed by the next song on the Ipod---Bobby Darrin's "Somewhere, Beyond the Sea," and the sweet sound of all my children teaching me the lyrics. Yesterday a school mom actually chased me back into the tavern, put her hand on my arm, and said "that was the best field trip I've ever seen. These kids were on fire with learning!" Victory. The big band is playing. Jeff Hammond, our enthusiastic young genius from Tulane, worked next to me, editing the video presentation for next week's up or down vote on Riley's Farm. "I keep seeing all these images of kids smiling," he said. Victory. The big band is playing. I was beat yesterday, tired, angry and I thought I'd sneak a nap, but someone said, "do you want to go down and see the girls dancing?" Mallory and Krystle stepped dance down in the tavern to a lively Irish tune. Victory. The big band is playing! Good
eventually wins over evil. It's hard to believe sometimes.
But it happens. |
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| March 16, 2006 8:55 AM | |||||
| Yesterday, Mary and I drove down the hill in response to the outrageous news that the Creighton Family of Romoland was enduring a visit by Child Protective Services. Perhaps some of you think that CPS is only for crack-moms and ugly divorce custody battles. Think again. You can be a loving, caring provider for 15 children (five of your own and ten adopted). You can be married to the same woman for more than a quarter of a century and still have CPS pass judgment on your parenting. What was the Creighton family "crime?" They home-school and they home-church and on occasion they spank with a wooden spoon. Watch the video. I feel a little sheepish, these days, teaching the virtues of our Constitution to school children, because our public agencies clearly don't have to abide by it. | |||||
| March 16, 2006 6:07 AM | |||||
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We received a nice letter yesterday
from a supporter who wrote, in essence, that we should stop worrying and
leave all of our family feud problems in God's hands.
Well, the fact is I don't worry much about this anymore.
I've been fighting this battle for about three
years and if God and the community don't want us here, I can accept even
that unlikely eventuality. I am, however, a bit less
fatalistic about how God works. I believe God
wants us in the fray, fighting when we need to,
loving when we need to, and asking for help when we need to.
One of my heroes had a slightly different twist: "God helps
them that helps themselves." We are going to
fight this one to the bitter end, because as Americans we believe in
justice, and justice is rarely achieved if you don't ask for it, and if
you don't ask your friends to help you seek it. In our case, I have taken our story to the public, repeatedly, because a few business competitors started this battle in a very public fashion. They gathered petition signatures by telling lies to timid neighbors, who were willing to believe them, and who didn't bother confirming the accusations. Some of them were told, for example, that we gave children "torches" to walk through dry, brushy fields. (This lie had the sound of reason because one of the fellows gathering the signature used to ride around the hills on a horse, carrying a burning pumpkin, playing the part of the Headless Horseman in our Sleepy Hollow production.) Fire frightens everyone, so the lie gave their first accusations a little traction. Since then, one of the accusers has been fined for illegal burns, and a state fire official admitted to me last week that another of the accusers has routinely ignored burn permits. The county now realizes, thanks to reasoned scrutiny, who the hypocrites are in Oak Glen. That didn't happen, however, without a demand, on our part, for county officials to determine the truth. It didn't happen, in other words, without a fight.
I do need to appeal, however, to the
silent majority of our Oak Glen neighbors. We
know, from talking to you on happier occasions, how much you love Oak
Glen, and how much you want it protected. We share that
desire. (We're one of the few farms here making major planting
of new trees, by the way.) We do need to tell you, however, that
we need your public help at the planning commission
meeting next Thursday. We're not above
asking friends for help. We can either be kicked off the
hill in silence, or we can ask for friends to lock arms.
Are you with us? |
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| March 14, 2006 8:15 AM | |||||
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After years of living history
and talking to hundreds of re-enactors around campfires and across the
internet, I have yet to hear a very precise and all-encompassing
reason for re-living the past. The reasons seem to
be as varied as the people articulating them. There's no
shortage of passion, no shortage of intellect, in describing the hobby,
but, in one sense, you either get it or you don't.
We once appeared on a national reality show (never again!), and one of the
guest participants couldn't understand why we were "running around in the
California foothills playing minuteman and redcoat."
After watching thousands of guests marvel at the spectacle of history
re-lived, after hearing guests tell us they enjoyed this experience as much
or more than east coast living history sites, this dismissive reaction
seemed more than just strange. It seemed pathetic.
If the image of the Lexington farmers, or the 69th Irish brigade, or the
sound of a Civil War brass band, or the image of an old fashioned cider
barn doesn't stir your soul on some very deep level, then--how can I say
this?--I'm not really sure we live in the same universe, much less the
same country. It is not, moreover, an ethnic or a race issue. Why did the students in Tiananmen square raise an image of the Statue of Liberty when they were protesting their brutal overlords? Why have I looked into the faces of immigrants from every country on the globe who have said, "Thank you, Mr. Riley! Keep telling the story!" Why do I hear the gleeful cry, "this is cool!" from Korean American fifth graders, playing the part of minutemen as they march through the orchard? Why? Because it's a compelling story! A noble story! If you don't get it, you never will get it. Does that mean American history, or any nation's history, is without blemish? Of course not, but if there is a sin in ignoring failure, there is a greater sin in not thanking those who sacrificed the final measure for us. "Freedom is a light," the monument reads, "for which many men have died in darkness." One of our detractors has accused us of wrapping ourselves in the flag. We are accused of claiming we don't need review because of the service we provide the community. Well, I would venture to say that no Oak Glen institution has been the subject of as much review, and as much selective enforcement, as we have over the last three years, but as to the charge of hyper-patriotism, there is really no defense against this kind of attack. If you believe in the virtues of principled patriotism, you are called a scoundrel. (Samuel Johnson, who coined the phrase about the last resort of scoundrels, by the way, enjoyed a pension from the King of England, even as he was mocking American patriots.) Conversely, if you don't see something wrong in presenting the story of American history, sanitized of all patriotic emotion, you haven't read the history itself. In other words, you can't win if you appeal to patriotism and you aren't telling the truth if you aren't a bit patriotic. One of my relatives on the other side of the feud lamented "I'm tired of being a caricature of myself." I assume that's because he wears an over-large cowboy hat and saddle pants with knee boots. If you wear that get-up and you aren't driving cattle, sleeping nights in the cleft of a boulder, you can feel a little silly, but I think he misses the point. When people see him, strumming his mandolin, singing to the crowds, they see an American icon--a symbol of all that they feel is good about the west, and the American experiment. Reminding people of that history is a noble calling--even if you use a microwave at night and rummage through the mail looking for the day's Netflix. Again, though, it's fairly obvious. You either understand the value in this, or you don't. We're anxious, as a family, to see how many people "get it." |
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| March 13, 2006 5:17 PM | |||||
 That
was Wilshire Peak yesterday afternoon, whiskered with snow and resting its
mighty bulk in the polar breeze. Down here, in
its shadow, the snow is beginning to melt off and I can see patches of
green in the parade ground. Mary and the
girls are talking Irish stew to my right, in
preparation for this Friday Night's family-friendly
Saint Patty's day feast. You should sign
up right now; it's going to be a grand night of merriment,
with smiling Irish eyes and voices!!I don't know that this knowledge will be of particular use to anyone, but I have learned something interesting, in this land use struggle, about the clash of democracy and property. I was a bit naive about this at the beginning of the whole community plan process, three years ago. I thought that people of reason and good-will would actually be interested in hashing out a compromise, sort of balancing out needs and seeking the common good. But among a small, loud minority, "balance" is a dirty word. The simple fact is that some people, once they've built their castle (or their country store) in the country, really don't want anyone else around--at all. When we Rileys got up here, twenty to thirty years ago, we were so excited about the country that we wanted to open it up to the public, sit around the wood burning stove, play checkers with the customers, and watch the corn grow. Row crops! Apples! Cider! Conversation! Pure magic and wonder! Some people think that's crazy. I suppose I can understand the song of the lone wolf, (or the retreating city professional) but I've never understood the impulse to claim 30,000 acres of solitude when you've only purchased three. I suppose that's why the founders, when framing the constitution, talked about property almost more than anything else. Democracies aren't always the friends of property, or of basic human rights. Seven cannibals can vote the eighth out of his head. Some things really aren't up for a vote--or everything you've worked for, your home, your savings, your business, your pension--could be subject to an undisciplined majority. Fortunately, I believe most of our Oak Glen neighbors understand this. I spoke with one today who told me, "all these people need to do is stop by here and look at the smiles on these kids' faces. Who could possibly be against this?" I believe he's right, but I also believe that reasonable people, polite people, don't always stand up at public meetings, especially when a bully is fulminating behind the microphone. One long time friend of our family actually told me she was scared to speak up on our behalf, even though she believes in everything we do. I have to take solace, I guess, in the fact that several others have said, "we'll be there for you." |
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| March 12, 2006 | |||||
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4:00 PM update: Everyone with a down parka and a pair of gloves drove up here today. Since we don't have any staff on Sunday, I usually close down the farm, but today I thought it would be okay to let people build snowmen and throw snowballs on the flat, roadside portion of the farm. The vast, vast majority of the guests were very grateful and courteous about that, but there was one who told me to Anglo-Saxon myself and that got my Irish up a little bit and I tried my best to do some Italianate hand gestures, so that the offenders might believe I had mob connections. Big mistake. We called the local constabulary, and then called them off when they of the baggy clothes persuasion left the farm, doing their little hand signals, and brandishing their neck tattoos.. You can blame this all, by the way, on personal injury attorneys. It wouldn't bother me at all if people walked the farm, as long as they were courteous, and sensible, but just let one of these social promotion types brain themselves on an apple tree while snow-boarding on a trash can lid, and then we all have to see each other in court, so that we can discuss our role in their quest for a Darwin Award. Did I ever tell you this rather interesting statistic: in Massachusetts today you are four times more likely to be the victim of a violent assault than in the days when they used the whipping post and the pillory. This is one more argument in favor of the Riley's Farm Conditional Use Permit! We will run a nice orderly, admission only farm, with a friendly, grandmotherly type in the front office waving all the good people through and leaving the bad people to ponder the glories of the great highway and wind in their hair. 7:50 AM It
looks like near a foot of snow out there, with clear skies that should be
melting this down in time for tomorrow's field trips. Dress
warmly, wear good socks (two pair) and good ankle-covering shoes or boots.
Bus companies: use your winter weather drivers and bring chains just
in case. We will be plowing the parking lot, but four
wheel drive is a real plus in this weathe |
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| March 11, 2006 11:17 AM | |||||
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My father, Ray Riley, during his
career as a businessman was about as tough as they come.
(He's 88 now, has endured two strokes, a broken hip, seizures, and has
beaten back cancer once, so we're giving him a little time off now to
retire.) He was always fair with his employees and
an honest salesman, but he expected that everyone around him would work as
hard as he was working. I'm sure this came about,
no doubt, from a childhood in the Great Depression, where he weeded onion
fields to earn his school clothes and cracked wheat in the basement for
cereal when it was ten below. It's not that he became a
pessimist; in his line of work--sales--he was always willing to try
pitching a new idea, but he never really got sentimental about anything
that didn't work. He just went on to the next product,
and he demanded that we all sell, ship, and warehouse as earnestly as we
could. I never saw this myself, but an old time
employee of my father said that he had to tell him that our warehouse had
made ten mistakes on a order we shipped to the customer.
From the warehouse floor, through the glass window of my dad's office, all
the staff watched him get up on top of his desk, kick off the paperwork,
and yell it out at the top of his lungs, "DO IT RIGHT THE FIRST TIME!"
It was our turn to watch Mom and Dad
last night, and I had a few moments with Dad over breakfast, so I printed
out the farm journal and let him read it. When he
got to the letter from Ruth about her student who had
visited here, who was excited to write about something that interested
him, my tough old business man dad took off his glasses, grabbed a towel,
and wept like a little boy. |
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| March 10, 2006 3:59 PM | |||||
 What a Valley Forge day we had today! I expected most of the schools to beg off this morning, and we offered them a very rare concession, because of the weather, to allow them to take a refund or re-schedule, but nearly all of them were game for the day, and our excellent staff gave them a small taste of our ancestor's hardships. All of the parents, to a man and to a woman, thanked me for going ahead with the tour. A special thanks from Riley's Farm to all these hearty students, parents, and teachers who endured the cold with not a single complaint! That's Yankee spirit! |
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| March 9, 2006 2:52 PM | |||||
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My experiences at Riley's Farm are some
of the most memorable of my teaching career. In one instance, I had a boy
who had struggled in school for years and was extremely low achieving. He
had help from our Resource dept. but had very little motivation to do
anything, especially write. His life experiences were limited as was his
language. |
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| March 9, 2006 7:22 AM | |||||
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Throughout
the present Riley family feud and land use controversy, one good
friend of both sides of the family, and an Oak Glen resident, has
repeatedly lamented, "can you imagine, Jim, what you guys could do if you
and Dennis were on the same page?" I agree. I sincerely doubt there would be any community opposition to Riley's Farm if Dennis Riley weren't leading the charge. I believe, moreover, if we were working together, we could establish a model for agritourism and living history in the Inland Empire that would keep some of our area's few remaining farms open and profitable. Sadly, this harmony does not prevail, and we are left with the choice of acceding unilaterally to Denny's requests and surrendering our livings, or taking our chances with the community and the broader Southern California audience. We regret that it has come to that, but we're reconciled, at least, to allowing the objective, third party process of county intervention, informed by the voters, to run its course. Win, lose, or draw, we are content to see how all of you weigh in, and we're grateful that many of you have. You should know, why, however, a compromise could not be reached. During the community plan process, Dennis has publicly criticized the county's desire to balance the needs of Oak Glen visitors with Oak Glen residents. Oak Glen is both a sanctuary for visitors and a sanctuary for its residents. It would seem obvious that, in the best traditions of American representative democracy, "balance" would be a reasonable standard to seek. We sought that "balance" by acceding to a request of Dennis to abide by the county noise ordinance. We did that. We modified our programs, pulled our crowd and musket demonstrations away from the property border and we confirmed that the noise ordinance was not being violated. We paid $3400 for an independent noise study to confirm this. This was not good enough for Dennis. We offered to reduce all of our musket fire to no more than 20 shots a day between the hours of 10 AM and 3PM. Still not good enough. Dennis brings hundreds of school children onto his farm in school busses. The acoustic engineers have confirmed that the school busses are a larger noise hazard than the musket fire, and this is a noise hazard Dennis both creates and endures. This isn't about musket fire, or school children, or commercial enterprises. It is about Dennis and his changing whims. Think, for a moment, about the objection Dennis has to the word "balance" in the community plan. What reasonable person objects to seeking a "balance?" Some of you, particularly those of you with lots of siblings, see through this. Scott and I will always be the spoiled little brothers. (I'm old enough now, and gray enough, and people are beginning to call me "Mr." Riley enough, that in a weird sort of way I guess this is flattering.) The point is this: it's a family fight, and we would happily not tell you a thing about it--except that our livings are on the line. Scott and I literally feed our families by conducting living history. We don't believe a reasonable community should allow a bully to have his way in all things. Even as I write this, the following email came in. It speaks for itself:
For several months, my wife and I
leased the Packing shed from the Rileys, and personally experienced the
unrealistic demands from Dennis Riley. One evening, after one of our
dances, Dennis sounded his siren for several minutes, then with his bull
horn told us to stop shooting guns. The decorating committee from the
group, were just popping balloons rather than trying to fit them in their
cars, to help clean up. At one point in my absence, Dennis told my wife "I
am going to shut down your business."
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| March 8, 2006 8:06 AM | |||||
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It has been an interesting week of
talking with the county, very enlightening on
many fronts. It looks like we will be before the planning commission on March 23, 2006. If any of you can stop by and say a few words on our behalf, it would help the farm more than you can imagine. (At most community meetings, I'm the lone minute-man taking arrows out of my back.) |
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| March 4, 2006 6:32 AM | |||||
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Here's some of this week's mail. Special thanks to all of you who have phoned and written letters on our behalf. If you're new to our family feud, you can read some of the issues here. (Thanks to the fire department, as well, guys. Good work.)
I am sick and tired of nice places
being ripped apart to put new housing or taking away something
pleasurable. Leave this alone!!! -- Pat, Moreno Valley |
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| March 3, 2006 6:48 AM | |||||
| Today's Revolutionary War Adventure will continue through the showers. Please bundle up and bring umbrellas! (Most of the village posts will be under tent or roof cover.) | |||||
| March 1, 2006 9:18 PM | |||||
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Today I had long and fruitful
discourse with not one, not two, not three, not four,
but FIVE county agencies. My day goes something like this: get up, draft letters to county, revise, scrap, draft again, see Mary off for errands, shower, don shirt, breeches, stockings, waistcoat, buckled-shoes, neck stock, tri-corn. Check email. Track down down one county official, just about the time the Revolution begins, go down stairs, fight with Redcoats, die on battle field, get back up and live again, give speech, greet parents and teachers with colonialisms, chat with Jan about invoices, go back up to office, draft letter, think about the calm, dead, revenue-less summer here, experience strange calm about it, have mini-panic attack about St. Patrick's Day event, re-assure myself that Irish dancing and singing practice is under control, chat with Jeff about CUP, go downstairs, miss my lunch speech, play fife tunes, chat with parents & teachers, have battle, achieve total victory, give Revolutionary war speech to kids, go back upstairs to office, have really pretty pleasant talk with county officials, (all good talks today; weird requirements, but good talks), check with Mary on cell phone, talk to one county official who finally seems to admit that one requirement is pure nonsense, check email, ride stationary bike and eat dried cherries to cure gout, (not quite at same time), talk to Scott, email Ryan slightly snitty letter about insurance, wonder about dinner because kids and Mary are all on field trip together today, hope against hope that dinner will magically materialize, go back upstairs, think about dinner, check email, go back downstairs and examine box of Rice a Roni, look at box for long time, and think about tuna fish sandwich instead, look back at box, feel Rice a Roni resolve mounting in me, find skillet, butter, water, conduct the Roni symphony with a glass of white wine and two big glasses of water to counteract gout, feel weirdly, absurdly something like a gourmet for cooking Rice & Roni, read book on the incredible GENIUS Alexander Hamilton, ate the Roni, stored Roni in little paper cups with "Cup-a-Roni" label on them, to amuse kids when they return, came back up here. Thought about my day. |
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