Trump has revived a little-utilized part of the Endangered Species Act — formally the Endangered Species Committee, but often called the “God Squad” as it can decide whether species may go extinct — in a purported effort to boost oil and gas development in the Gulf of America Mexico.

Your favorite legal minds — Scott Greacen of Friends of the Eel River, Matt Simmons of EPIC and Jen Marlow from CalPoly Humboldt — join the show to discuss the legal basis for the God Squad, its invocation by Trump, and the potential for it to be used in the Pacific Northwest.

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PREVIOUSLY:

• HUMBOLDT HISTORY: Why Some Early Settlers Wanted a Canal From the Eel River to the Bay So Badly, Why Others Were Indifferent, and Why it Never Came to Be

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That prosperous times tend to foster and beget new enterprises stands as a commonly accepted truism of economic life. The years 1853 and 1854 were such a time for Humboldt County, and especially so for the bay area.

Sawmills were being opened at an unprecedented rate along the Eureka waterfront, with nine of these in full operation by the fall of 1854. Some 200 independent loggers whose capital investment in their logging operations was valued in excess of $400,000 were supplying the mills with the required logs, among which were to be found the first redwoods for conversion into commercial lumber. The mill equipment, and especially the saws, had not been large enough to cope with the giant virgin redwood saw logs until well into 1854.

The buoyant mood of the period was effectively sized up by the following newspaper assessment of business conditions prevailing during the late fall of 1854.

There is at the present time more animation in every department of business than we have ever before witnessed on the Bay.

Until about 1854 most of the logging took place in the immediate vicinity of the bay, the loggers availing themselves of the almost ubiquitous bay sloughs as well as the several small streams running into the bay to convey the saw timber to the mills.

The Times considered these same sloughs important enough to suggest petitioning the Legislature to declare them to be navigable waters in order to prevent anyone from willfully obstructing traffic therein.

And small wonder, for the remaining transportation picture did not give cause for rejoicing. The twenty miles of railroad operating in the bay environs by early 1855 were engaged almost exclusively in bringing lumber from the mills to the loading docks, possibly also for hauling incoming shipments of supplies back to town. Although there were some roads, these deteriorated into impassable quagmires during the winter rains, and as far as a permanent wagon road between the two principal bay towns, Arcata and Eureka, was concerned, none existed until the late 1850’s. Anyone wishing to travel overland between Arcata and Eureka during the first decade of their existence had an arduous journey of some fifteen miles confronting him, whereas, via the bay, it was only half that distance with regularly scheduled boat transportation available most of the time. Thus water was the prime mover during these early years and would remain so for the immediate bay area for some time to come, especially as the logging operations receded from the shores of the bay and spread into the prime redwood stands along the foothills and rivers north and south of the bay.

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The proposal to connect the Eel and Mad with the bay via canals was shortly followed by another allusion to the excellent prospects for water transportation afforded by these streams. This time the Times writer again pointed out the fine stands of timber lining both rivers and saw no difficulty in conveying the logs to the mills for “both are excellent streams for rafting, at least so say the ‘down-easters!’”

Apparently several of these “downeasters” together with other residents of the lower reaches of the Mad River had already arrived at a similar conclusion independently. On January 10, 1854, a Humboldt Bay and Mad River Canal Company was incorporated …

for the purpose of taking the Water of Mad River in a Canal in order to open a communication between Mad River and a certain Slough well known to the Subscribers & leading into Humboldt Bay for the purpose of floating timber from Mad River into Humboldt Bay & for such other purposes as the same may be deemed practicable and profitable.

By December of the same year the proposed canal was completed, and at that time it was thought that “the canal will take almost the entire stream and as there is considerable fall along the line it will become the permanent bed.”

Now that we have our first operative canal let us take a closer look at some of the enterprising individuals responsible for this ambitious project. Two of the three initial directors, Messrs. Elzy Daly and Albert G. Handy, hailed from Ohio, and we can safely assume that they were cognizant of the commercial impact of canal transportation in that part of the country. No trace remains of the third original director, Ephraim Moore. Elzy Daly was also president of the company and James W. Daly, possibly related, held the combined offices of treasurer and secretary. By late fall of 1854, when the opening of the canal was noted by the local paper, another eastern party was prominently associated with the canal: Jed C. Butler from Vermont, who gave the enterprise a more pronounced “down-eastern” character.

Messrs. Butler, E. and J.W. Daly and Handy appear to have resided in or near Union as early as 1853 and all were landowners with holdings in the proximity of the canal by 1854. Thus the principals were all residents of Union and men of property who sought to open up the timber resources of the Mad River by means of the Humboldt Bay and Mad River Canal. We have no cost estimates, but the issuance of 28 shares of capital stock “not to exceed three thousand dollars” on January 10, 1854, gives us some hint as to what the anticipated outlay for the construction of the canal was.

Curiously enough, no contemporary account of the construction or description of the canal could be found, albeit with the aid of an extant map of the times, plus some later descriptions, a composite approximation is feasible. As was the case with the proposed Eel River canal, the area where the river and the bay were separated by the shortest distance was chosen for the site, the declared intent of the builders being to divert the Mad River via the canal and a “certain Slough well known to the Subscribers and leading into Humboldt.”

The slough in question was the present day Mad River Slough, the northwesternmost of the bay sloughs, which at its extremity came to within approximately one half mile of the Mad River at a location nearly one mile upstream from where it flowed into the ocean. We can find no reliable information on the dimensions of the canal, and can only speculate that given the intended purpose of floating logs and the relatively low capitalization a rather shallow (say six feet at the most) and narrow (perhaps double its depth, or twelve feet) would seem reasonable.

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Nearly four years passed before the canal was utilized in sufficient quantity for the local press to take note. A certain logger named Lakin brought a large raft of logs into the bay via the canal sometime during the spring of 1858, and the article reporting the event closed on a note of optimism and encouragement: “There is fine timber on Mad River, and this canal may yet prove to be valuable property.”

It is highly improbable that the canal was not used during the first four years of its existence, and the rather categorical “has never been used” of the above report must be taken “cum granum salis.” The mere presence of such a waterway surely would have encouraged at least a modicum of use, if for no other reason than the fact that the canal represented the only direct navigable route from the Mad River Valley to the bay. For example, during February 1858 it was reported that logs had been cut upriver on the Mad with the intention of floating them “through Daily and Butler’s canal.” Canoes and other small boats regularly plied the waters of the Mad River and these small craft must have availed themselves of the canal to gain direct access to the bay. Such commonplaces as the passage of a canoe or a few solitary logs through the canal seldom reached the printed page, for much as today, they were not newsworthy enough: they lacked quantity, substance and possibly notoriety.

As to the relatively low incidence of use of the canal there comes to mind the possibility of excessive toll fees discouraging even such incidental use alluded to above, but unfortunately we lack evidence of such a practice. What we do know for certain is that a serious slump occurred in the local lumber industry caused by overproduction. The concomitant glut of the San Francisco lumber market and a general business depression in San Francisco seriously affected the Humboldt lumber industry. The lack of demand for local lumber products was especially noticeable during early 1855, when production dropped to less than half of the 1854 output.

During the late fifties and during most of the following decade the Indian problem grew to such ominous proportions that not only did it slow the influx of new settlers to the vacant public lands, but many of the older, established pioneers had to abandon their isolated settlements for the better protected and more populous bay area communities. Of immediate interest is this passage from Owen Coy’s history of the Humboldt Bay region, 1850-1875:

Arcata felt the effect of the Indian wars more than any of the other bay towns, for the hostility of the Redwood and Mad River tribes often brought the scenes of bloodshed dangerously near, the brick store of A. Jacoby being more than once used as a place of refuge for the women and children of the place.

Thus the young canal enterprise appears to have been beset by vicissitudes almost from its beginning, what with the depression of the lumber trade directly affecting its main source of anticipated income; the volume of logs passing through it on their way from the Mad to the bay mills. Just as the lumber business began to pick up again the Indian hostilities cast their pall over the lower and middle reaches of the Mad River watershed — the area where most of the saw timber that was to float through the canal was presumably expected to come from.

Among the various other possible elements contributing to the early difficulties of the canal, the frequently irresistible attraction of the mines for the less sedentary settlers of the bay area cannot be discounted. Many potential homesteaders succumbed to the often heard cry of “gold” during the first decade of the county’s existence. Possibly, Messrs. Moore and Joseph W. Daly were among them, for no local records exist for them beyond 1854.

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Curiously enough shortly after the completion of the Humboldt Bay and Mad River Canal another canal proposal was made public, the purported purpose was to provide water power for the operation of several saw and flour mills.

The Times of Jan. 6,1855, reported:

Another resource which I deem of more importance than any other, is the water power which can be made available at comparatively but little expense. It has been ascertained, by ‘actual measurement,’ that in cutting a canal from Pattewott (Mad) River to the Bay, south of the present one, in a distance of three miles, by putting in a single dam, a fall of sixty feet could be obtained, which will afford the greatest sufficiency of power for six saw and flouring mills, each with a ten foot fall. The entire cost of the canal, dam and six mills, would not exceed one hundred thousand dollars. That it would be one of the safest investments in California, no one who is acquainted with the immense timbered resources through which the canal and river pass, will for a moment question.

It seems our correspondent’s optimism was unfounded; there were no takers, and little wonder when one considers that $100,000 was a large amount of capital even for normal times. What foolhardy investor would have risked such a sum during the beginning of a serious depression? Thus this particular canal suggestion could be seen to represent the last ripple of that great wave of enterprise that had engulfed the county during 1853-1854, another paper canal to muse and speculate about and to place in the “I wonder what it would have been like” file.

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The one other canal project of this period that bears mentioning is perhaps the least ambitious of all, which probably in great measure contributed to its singular success. The farmers situated on the bottomlands east of the canal that connected the Mad River and the bay were suffering frequent inundations during the winter months, and it was thought that by straightening the river some distance to the east, where it made a “huge bend” which forced the river over its banks during high water, the flooding could be prevented or at least reduced to a relatively harmless level.

Animated with high hopes the farmers of the affected area banded together, with the aid of some Arcata merchants, and the Times of Nov. 25, 1865, reported:

… a canal was cut across the neck of this land of sufficient capacity to receive a considerable portion of the waters of the river, thus conveying them below the point through which they usually made their way to the prairies.

A freshet during the late fall of 1865 put this modest canal to its first test, and it was declared a “complete success” for the rate of flow of the river had been increased measurably by straightening its channel via the canal. Other benefits noted were an increase in depth and a widening of the riverbed from forty to sixty feet which must have benefited the loggers in their efforts to float timber downstream, in addition to achieving the primary purpose of flood prevention.

Thus we approach the end of the first quarter century of canal building on the Mad River. Perhaps the most accurate indicator of the fortunes of the major canal scheme during this period is that on May 5, 1869, J.C. Butler, one of the early participants in the Humboldt Bay and Mad River Canal Company, who had since moved to Orleans and apparently had acquired half interest in the company by that date, sold his half interest to John A. Hanna for the sum of $300. When one recalls that the original capitalization of said concern was $3,000 it quickly becomes obvious that the initial 25 years of the major canal projecion on the Mad River were anything but a financial success, and whatever high hopes the original entrepreneurs entertained were not realized during this period.

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During the early 1870’s, after a period of stagnation and neglect, the ownership of the first Mad River canal passed from the hands of Arcata residents and at least one absentee owner to become an entirely Eureka-based operation. The combined factors of necessary improvements and change of ownership prompted a new incorporation of the Humboldt Bay and Mad River Canal Company on January 24, 1871.

A new spirit of enterprise emanates from the articles of incorporation of this new venture and one gains the impression that this was to be a much more ambitious project than the initial canal of 1854, especially since the stated purpose of the Eureka proprietors was to construct a canal “for the transportation of freight and passengers” between Mad River and Humboldt Bay. The enterprising and locally well-known John Vance, who was soon to build a railroad and lumber mill on the Mad River, and who owned a considerable amount of timberland in the Mad River watershed, was associated with the enterprise and served as one of the first three trustees of the company.

We can gain some idea of the improvements undertaken by the new owners from the following description of the canal which appeared in the West Coast Signal during the spring of 1873:

The canal has been enlarged sufficiently to permit the largest bay craft to pass through it into the river, three quarters of a mile from the mouth and one and a half miles up the river from tide water, affording a good outlet for produce and logs.

As was the case with the original canal, the volume of logs and other goods passing through in either direction initially did not amount to any economically significant total during the period immediately following modernization, for not until 1874 does the local press take more than cursory notice of its existence. During that year there appeared a very informative account in the Times describing the journey of some logs of sawtimber down the Mad River, through the canal and into the bay, and as the following passage therefrom clearly indicates, the cutting of logs was moving up river and the haul to the lumber mills on the bay was no longer the short trip of an earlier day.

After the logs are thrown into the river they will have to be floated about six and a half miles to the mouth of the canal which leads from the river into the bay. This canal is about a half a mile in length. The rafting ground is about a mile and a half from the canal in a slough of the bay; and the whole distance from the landing to the city of Eureka is about twenty miles.

The same correspondent relates that the party engaged in this particular logging operation put approximately a million feet of logs into the river during the previous year from a site closer to the mouth of the river than the present one. In the ongoing operation they were averaging 20,000 feet per day, with the maximum daily cut amounting to some 30,000 feet. There were already some 700,000 feet in the river — the result of 32 days of hauling — and another 800,000 feet cut and ready to be dumped into the river. Altogether this amounted to a respectable cut of timber and a sizable improvement over the previous year’s output.

As the volume of logs floated down the Mad River increased, the long-standing need for a boom strong enough to withstand the great force of logs and debris that were swept downstream during the annual winter and spring freshets became ever more apparent. For example, the author of the article just alluded to was a strong advocate of a permanent boom, and he pointed out the inadequacies of the succession of makeshift structures employed down through the early seventies.

Among the recent victims of this glaring lack of proper facilities were Messrs. Jackman and McCann, who lost some 150,000 feet of the one million feet total of logs cut and run downstream during 1873. Our correspondent concluded that

…the only seeming thing needed for successful logging on Mad River is a boom of sufficient strength to withstand the weight of the logs and the driftwood when they come down the stream in high water.

During the late fall of 1874 these same hapless loggers lost another half million feet of logs which were carried out to sea when another hastily constructed boom failed to hold. Although a substantial portion of the lost timber was beached and eventually recovered from the sands below the mouth of the Mad, the margin of profit must surely have dropped precipitously by the time this particular consignment of logs had been transported back into the river and thence floated via the canal to the several bay mills.

The above misfortunes are by no means isolated instances; they were unfortunately an all too common occurrence, and not only on the Mad River. There were occasions especially during high tides when heavy rains would send freshets down the various streams emptying into the hay that would sweep away booms intended to gather and hold logs for rafting to the mills. At times some logs could be salvaged, but again at great cost, and of course the booms had to be rebuilt.

Thus nature proved to be a fickle partner for logger and canal owner, for the winter rains were needed to raise the water level in the streams to a height adequate to permit floating of logs from the usually shallow upper reaches of the streams to deeper water, yet during years of excessive or even heavy rainfall the great rush of water hurling downstream and carrying all before it would frequently take an entire season’s cutting out to sea, with the logger incurring a total loss for those years.

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When the Mad River Boom and Land Company finally did erect a more permanent structure during the summer and early fall of 1877, time was already running out for the canal. Technological improvements in the sawing of timber at the major bay mills had increased the cutting rate to the point where the supply of logs coming to the mills via water no longer sufficed. Increasingly the mills either moved directly to the source of sawtimber, as did John Vance for example, or they became more dependent on the railroads for their regular supply of logs. By the following decade the railroads had become the single important mode of transportation for the lumber industry.

But there were other factors that contributed to the canal’s demise during the 1870s and ‘80s and we must at least touch on two of the more important of these in order to gain a better perspective from which to view the peculiar interplay of forces which finally sealed the fate of the Mad River Canal.

As the logging operations moved upstream during this period and the volume of logs cut and floated downstream increased, the force generated by high water during the winter and spring rains would cause the logs in the river to seriously erode the stream banks during their passage downstream. The resultant damage occasioned numerous complaints by farmers and ranchers with holdings along the streambed.

Another recurring objection to the canal was that much of the debris swept downstream by the logs and water made its way into the bay via the canal and was rapidly filling up the shipping channels of the north bay. As early as 1883, the Army Corps of Engineers reported considerable amounts of madrone driftwood imbedded in the clay dredged from the Arcata channel, and the point was made that frequent dredging was the only solution to keeping the channel open, especially since the water in that part of the bay tended to be heavily charged with sediment.

The above report contained some serious reservations concerning the wisdom of further improvement of the upper bay shipping channels, especially in view of the increasing use of railroads to haul manufactured lumber to the deep-water facilities of the south bay.

In sum, the report said:

The tendency of filling up the channels and growth of the flats in the bay has been observed and will increase with the denuding of the timberlands. Therefore the shipping point of all the lumber will be transferred and concentrated in the lower part of the bay along the main channel.

Arcata became especially aggravated by the threat that sedimentation posed to its already shallow shipping channel. The Arcata Union for the period 1886-1888 reflected that town’s sentiments concerning the canal most candidly, at times, in a highly effective fashion, such as in the following excerpt:

That canal is a nuisance, and has been for the past 30 years. As a commercial enterprise it has always been a failure. It has never benefitted anyone. Its intended use for logging purposes has worked a serious injury to the bed of the Mad River by floating logs down that stream. Farmers in the immediate vicinity have been ruined by it and all the channels in the bay have felt the effects of the debris dumped in them from Mad River.

Local opposition to the canal finally reached such an intensity during the late 1880’s that the Eureka Board of Harbor commissioners agreed to a permanent closing of the Mad River Canal in 1888.

With the closing of the canal some thirty-four years of fitful operation of the Mad River facility officially terminated. However, the old canal channel that once connected the river and the bay slough and was now separated from the river by a levee failed to heed the official decision and continued to haunt the farmers and ranchers of the bottomlands during periods of heavy rainfall when the force of the water would occasionally break the levee and flow into the bay as of yore.

There remained a small but staunch group of local canal enthusiasts who surfaced periodically during the ensuing decades to admonish the upper bay residents for giving the canal short shrift. Among these could be found the landowners situated below the erstwhile canal on the Mad River who claimed that the closure caused the logs and debris now flowing out to sea to damage their lands.

But perhaps the most fitting tribute to the abiding interest the notion of canal transportation held for the bay area is contained in an item appearing in 1911, where a group of lumbermen made a strong argument for a new canal by pointing out how the flow of the Mad River through the bay would scour out and deepen the northern end of the bay. Some farmers joined in by indicating that they could profit from the ensuing cheaper means of transporting their goods to Eureka and there was even talk to the effect that the oyster beds would flourish as a direct consequence of the fresh water flush.

The newly proposed canal was to be one of the lock variety to enable proper control of the flow of water during all seasons. And thereby hangs a tale, for one is naturally led to speculate how different local canal history might have been if more capital and engineering knowledge had been applied when the first canal was dug back in 1854.

Needless to say, the proposal in question remained an idle pipe dream, for the railroad thoroughly dominated the local transportation picture by this time, and with progress in road building and the development of the internal combustion engine the railroad in turn was soon to face the challenge of the truck. Thus these sentiments are mere ripples on the steadily onward flowing river of time, unable to alter its course, in this case the official closing of the Mad River Canal in 1888.

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Diana Marie Dal Porto Ellis Bridges
October 19, 1943 – March 15, 2026

Diana passed away peacefully surrounded by loving family and friends on March 15, 2026, at the age of 82. She was proud of her Italian roots and her close-knit Dal Porto family, which remained central to her life.

She was preceded in death by her parents, Nelo and Lena; her brother, Michael (Joan); her husbands, Donald Ellis and Dale Bridges; and her faithful companion, her dog Gidget.

Diana’s greatest joy was her family. She is lovingly remembered by her sons, Todd Ellis and Donald Ellis (Joyce); her grandchildren, Hopper, Ryan, Tyler, Jocelynn and Melody; and her great-grandson, Colter.

Born in Arcata, Diana graduated from Arcata High School in 1961 and beauty school in 1962. She had a natural gift for connecting with people, which she shared through 35 years with Avon and nearly three decades welcoming guests at the Red Lion Restaurant. She was also a devoted member of St. Mary’s Catholic Church.

She treasured her friendships, especially with her cousins Barbara and Sally Vannie, Karen Sacchi, and her dear friend of 54 years, Donna Hauser.

Diana found happiness in old movies, gardening, square dancing, cheering on her favorite teams: The San Francisco Giants and San Francisco 49ers, and spending summers at her family’s cabin in Willow Creek.

Her family extends heartfelt thanks to Shiloh and Amanda and her caregivers for their kindness and support.

She will be deeply missed and forever remembered. A private inurnment will be held at Ocean View Cemetery, with a memorial Mass at St. Mary’s to be announced.

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The obituary above was submitted on behalf of Diana Bridges’s family. The Lost Coast Outpost runs obituaries of Humboldt County residents at no charge. See guidelines here. Email news@lostcoastoutpost.com.

Gary Gene Klinetobe, age 76, passed away on January 19, 2026, just one month shy of his 77th birthday. He was born on February 11, 1949 in Scotia and was raised in Rio Dell.

Gary was preceded in death by his mother, Agnes (McClennen) Klinetobe, born in Rapid City, South Dakota, and his father, Gale Klinetobe, born in Nebraska, and his youngest son, Micheal Gene Klinetobe. Gary was the last of four children to pass away.

Gary is survived by his wife, Sandra Klinetobe. The two were married on February 3, 1968 and though they were separated in the mid 1990s they remained friends and were often seen together at family gatherings.

He also leaves behind his four living children — Carolyn Morton, Richard Klinetobe, Laura Klinetobe, Gary Klinetobe, ten grandchildren, three great-grandchildren — and a large extended family too numerous to name.

In the mid-1970s, Gary worked at Eel River Saw Mills in Redcrest until a back injury in the early 1980s led him to a new path. He then worked for Fortuna Parks & Recreation, where he cared for the local baseball fields. Many remember him dragging, prepping and chalking the fields.

Gary had a deep love for sports. He coached a men’s softball team sponsored by Alton Tavern, where he proudly wore the nickname “Huggie Pooh” on his jersey and was known by most as “Big Gary.” He was truly larger than life and often the life of the party.

Children adored him and often climbed on him like a tree, something that he welcomed with joy.

He loved for his kids — sons and daughters — to practice alongside him and his team, playing outfield and chasing balls. We all learned to love the game. He often joked that he wanted twelve children so he could have his own team.

Gary enjoyed shooting pool and became quite skilled over the years, traveling locally to compete in tournaments. His love of sports extended to his children, whom he proudly supported. He could be found cheering them on at football, baseball and basketball games. He also frequented the stock car raced in Petaluma and Eureka, where he watched his sons Richard and Gary race competitively, always willing to give advice he wasn’t using.

Later years, Gary worked as a security guard locally before moving to Copperopolis, where he continued working until his health declined. Even then, he remained playing pool and perfecting his game.

About five years ago, Gary moved to Susanville, where he lived briefly with his son Richard and wife Amber. He had recently moved into his own place, where he passed away suddenly and peacefully due to declined health.

Although Gary wasn’t always good about staying in touch, he always seemed to know what each of us were doing.

His presence and humor will be missed. Gary Klinetobe will be remembered for his big heart, his love of family and sports.

A celebration of life is scheduled for April 18, 2026, at 2 p.m. at the Rio Dell Fire Department. All are welcome. There will be a slideshow and potluck. Please come join us and be ready to share stories and your favorite side dish. His ashes will remain in Humboldt County with his family per his wishes.

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The obituary above was submitted on behalf of Gary Klinetobe’s family. The Lost Coast Outpost runs obituaries of Humboldt County residents at no charge. See guidelines here. Email news@lostcoastoutpost.com.

During the preliminary hearing for a foster mother accused of murder for the 2021 death of two-year-old Phoenix Jayden Asti, testimony from two expert witnesses cast doubt on the defendant’s story that the child caused his own head injuries.

Ashley Pearce-Pifferini was held to answer on all charges — murder and assault on a child causing death — on Friday. 

Judge Lawrence Killoran cited expert testimony finding a lack of basis for self-inflicted wounds caused by headbanging.

Killoran found enough evidence to hold her to answer on the charges filed in 2024, and to continue with proceedings against her.

Pearce-Pifferini has pleaded not guilty, and Killoran allowed her to remain out of custody on a $1 million bail.

Deputy District Attorney Whitney Timm said there was “no question,” the boy was murdered.

She argued evidence — including medical testimony, Pearce-Pifferini being the only person with him when he became unresponsive, and changes to her story over time — showed her actions were “cold blooded and cowardly murder.” She accused the woman of bashing a two-year-old and waiting to call for medical attention until it was too late.

Because Asti was one of the most vulnerable types of victims, Timm argued Pearce-Pifferini should be held in jail.

Meanwhile, Casey Russo from the Public Defender’s office cast doubt on parts of the medical record, and said it remains a “real mystery” what occurred. He countered by pointing to efforts Pearce-Pifferini took to get medical care for the boy, along with her long record as a foster parent and lack of criminal or abusive record.

He described the case as complicated, and of a type fraught with wrongful convictions.

Witness testimony revealed key medical evidence found over the long and drawn-out investigation.

Dr. Evan Matshes, who performed Asti’s autopsy and spent dozens of hours examining parts of his body, testified the child could not produce enough force to cause a key injury found in his skull.

During a 911 call played for the court Thursday, Pearce-Pifferini told dispatch the child banged his head on a crib while he was mad, and could have fallen in the bath a few days before.

She told a similar story to medical professionals documented in hospital records prosecutors submitted as evidence.

Matshes, an expert in child abuse autopsies and the medical director of NAAG Forensic PC, testified the child died from impact blunt head trauma, stemming from blows on multiple parts of his head.

Asti’s internal injuries included bruising on the back and top of his head, tears in neck nerves and Diffuse Axonal Injury (DAI). DAI is a serious brain injury involving tearing of brain matter.

When Timm asked if the DAI injury could be accomplished by the force of a two-year-old, or a short fall, Matshes simply replied “no.”

He testified the nerve injuries in his neck were caused by a whiplash motion,  which would be similarly inconsistent with a fall.

During cross examination, defense attorney Russo pointed to the boy’s lack of skull fractures, and asked if the object could have been a wooden part of a crib or bed. Matshes said it could be consistent with many things.

Russo also probed other instances that could cause the boy’s injuries, including the possibility of an accident.

James Crawford-Jakubiak, the medical director of the Center for Child Protection in Oakland, similarly an expert in child abuse cases who cared for the child after he was flown to Oakland for medical treatment, testified Friday that Asti’s injuries were consistent with him being repeatedly slammed.

He called this the “most likely explanation,” for the head injuries Asti ultimately died from, when asked by Timm.

When asked about headbanging behavior in children, he testified he did not believe it was possible that the child caused his own death. He similarly testified DAI could not be caused by a short fall or could be self-inflicted. 

He said medical professionals at the Center who treated Asti believed he had blunt trauma to his head, which was confirmed by autopsy, despite a lack of external injuries.

He also testified that he believed there was a delay in reaching medical care, based on the level of swelling of the child’s brain from the first scan of his head.

When Timm asked if earlier care could have saved Asti, he said “we’ll never know,” but said doctors could have saved time by knowing the injury was caused by head trauma.

By the time Asti received medical care, he testified there was nothing medical professionals could do. He was declared brain dead on Nov. 23, 2021.

Another key piece of evidence was an image Pearce-Pifferini texted to her partner of Asti with bruising and discoloration on his face, about a month before the boy sustained the injuries that would kill him.

Crawford-Jakubiak testified the patterns on his face were consistent with a hand slap.

Humboldt County District Attorney Investigator Ryan Hill, the lead investigator who often takes on child abuse cases, testified that during interviews with the couple’s daughter, she told adults that Asti, alongside another foster child in the home, were hit and spanked with a wooden spoon.

He also learned through interviews with social workers that the couple informed professionals they decided they wouldn’t adopt the two foster children just weeks before Asti died.

A social worker was told this by Pearce-Pifferini on Nov. 8 during a monthly visit. Despite offering to take the children immediately, the defendant said she would wait until after Christmas for placement.

Pearce-Pifferini’s next appearance is April 17.

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Eureka’s city council and mayor haven’t had a pay raise since 1988. The cost of just about everything has nearly tripled in the last 38 years, but the council’s monthly stipends have remained at a static $500. (The mayor brings in a little more dough at $625 per month.)

At a special meeting next week, staff will present proposed changes to the city’s charter that, if approved by voters, would give our elected officials a nice little pay bump, though the exact amount has yet to be determined.

“We’re not looking to make this a living wage job,” Eureka City Manager Miles Slattery told the Outpost. “This came up during strategic visioning, and the council included this as one of their goals for effective governance. … It’s been nearly 40 years, and with all the changes that have happened in our economy, we think it’s time for an update.”

The American Institute for Economic Research’s Cost of Living Calculator estimates that $500 in 1988 is equal to roughly $1,370 in today’s money, which represents a 174% increase in inflation.

Rather than a set monthly stipend, staff is looking to amend the charter to give the council periodic raises to keep up with inflation, similar to the City of Arcata. But because Eureka is a charter city, any proposed changes to the charter must be put to a vote of the people. 

The council will consider a few other small amendments to the city charter, mostly relating to “archaic language” and references to the Brown Act.

“It’s just a lot of procedural things,” Slattery said. “For instance, [the charter states] that ‘a special municipal election shall be had for not less than 88 days’ … but it doesn’t have a maximum. Things like that.”

If the council decides to move ahead with the changes, staff will draft a ballot measure that will be brought back to the council for review. If approved, the item would appear on the November 2026 ballot.

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The Eureka City Council will meet for its special meeting at 5 p.m. on Tuesday, April 7. The regular meeting will take place at 6 p.m. That agenda can be found here.

Human waste smells; lakes made of the stuff should reek. But unless you’re standing next to it, the Arcata wastewater treatment plant usually doesn’t. (Too badly.) That hasn’t been the case recently: the odor drifts over Highway 101, into drivers’ nostrils when they hit South G Street, out into Sunny Brae and into dozens of domiciles. 

The plant is the obvious mother of smells that have terrorized Sunny Brae recently, but it’s not the only parent. 

“Why does the Arcata sanitation plant smell so bad these days?” one person asked the Outpost a couple days ago. “Starting a month or two ago, the smell has been intense when driving north approaching Arcata. Today was particularly bad, but up until a few months ago I never noticed it.” 

“When I first began to smell it, I thought it was my vehicle burning coolant. Then I realized it wasn’t coming from my truck; it was everywhere,” said another in February. “I’ve asked everyone I can think of. Some people theorized that it’s the Arcata Marsh… but in twenty years of living around it, I’ve never smelled this, so I’m not sure that that is the answer.”

Well, my fetid friends, the facility is only partly to blame. Arcata’s director of environmental services Emily Sinkhorn told the Outpost that the facility had some of the highest levels of water inflow in a day ever recorded over the winter. Much of it was groundwater, funneled into the plant by aging sewer pipes. Expecting more heavy rain, city staff lowered the water levels in the oxidation ponds to ensure they had plenty of room; nature decided to throw their planning in the toilet and it hardly rained at all until Wednesday. The bacteria in the oxidation ponds, exposed to air, created a mighty stench and wafted for miles. 

But Sinkhorn said they managed to alleviate the problem during February and March. New and improved infrastructure at the facility gives the city greater control over where they send water, from treatment wetlands to UV disinfection basins to enhancement marshes, and they eventually managed to tamp down the smell. 

But residents in Sunny Brae kept on complaining, and Sinkhorn says the sources of these other smells are still unknown and likely outside city limits, perhaps a broken septic system. People described the smells as sulfuric or like sewage. They’re worse near Old Arcata and Golf Course roads.  

City staff are ensuring that there aren’t any problems with Arcata’s sewer system, which, so far, has held up under scrutiny. 

“We really appreciate detail when people call in,” Sinkhorn said. “‘I was here at this time, and the smell was coming from this direction.’ That is helpful for us. We will continue to follow up, particularly on the city’s infrastructure. We take that very seriously.”