The other day, I found myself in a characteristic mood: walking the streets, looking for lost philosophies. Scanning the morning skies for forgotten mantras, those cadences that once daily guided me. The surrounding skyscrapers, backlit by the rising sun, offered no hints. The other commuters, bustling by in their winter coats, though the air was mild, kept to themselves as usual.

What were these secret words that used to whisper to me? Fragrant, power sayings, the kind that get you out of bed and through the day, like marching orders of life. There were so many – I had a knack for calling upon them in times of need – and yet now they are gone, forgotten, stirring in me no more. Perhaps they have drifted along onto nearby rustling trees, falling to the next person in line, whose pursed lips are at this moment on the verge of uttering those very same old lines.

Rounding a corner of the Kuştepe neighborhood, where the university campus squats amid blocks of ramshackle buildings and tenement houses, I allow myself the solace that at least I am not without a mantra at present, or even a few of them. “Monday’s in the bag, take care of Tuesday,” always suffices in dealing with the deadness of routine. When navigating the classroom, at this tired point in the winter term I have that old tradelast, “Finals are on the way: it’s up to the students now, not you. Make them do the work!” And if all else fails, there’s always: “Hey, it’s just Prep. This term shall pass, as will the next one, the next one, and all the ones after. This too, shall pass.” Etc, etc.

I’ve been accused of having a busy mind – and a dramatic mind by others – and the above perhaps is sufficient proof. And it is true too that I often talk to myself (“thinking aloud,” is how I describe it), and so it is highly likely that passersby here in Istanbul look askance as they encounter this yabanci shuffling through the morning streets muttering to himself and peering at the skies anxiously.

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The thing is, I have never had a guiding philosophy – a permanent, all-encompassing one. Sure, I’ve scanned the old-timers a bit. Emerson and Thoreau, with their rustic, rural admonishments about self-reliance and simplicity, had a sparseness that was for a time suitable to a young man living all on his own in Northern California in mid- to late-1990s.

It was comforting to apply Thoreau’s nature-oriented entreaties to the redwoods and isolated Pacific beaches. But as I did not wish to be a hermit in some shack outside Rio Dell, and longed to have a bit of female companionship, I soon wearied of these monastic theories of life. They seemed too pale, ascetic for my taste.

Later, Voltaire’s “Candide,” in which the meaning of life is described as “tending one’s garden,” had a faintly gleaming appeal. It suggested attractive rows of rosebushes and gently swaying orchids, that life could somehow ultimately be a pleasant affair if one only worked at it. So I spent my late twenties tending my garden, so to speak, which meant finally finishing university, getting a job as a reporter at a daily newspaper and even playing a bit of jazz trumpet on the side. That, I supposed, was my garden: writing and playing music.

That was until my thirties hit, and I had grown bored of this garden. I longed to travel. So I desperately latched onto, “You’ve spent a lot of time making good decisions, so you owe it to yourself to make a few bad ones,” a risky bit of mountebank wisdom that propelled me from America to Prague, and later, Istanbul. That fine mantra sat with me in some of Europe’s finest pubs and beer gardens, and some other less splendid places, like the long flat border between Turkey and Bulgaria, where I had to pay a fine for overstaying my visa and languish on a bus for hours and hours through endless bag and passport checks.

My forties raced by, a blur of marrying and settling down, of domesticity, and work. I had no need for philosophies – we had Netflix, and streaming. When in doubt, just find something to binge and forget about it all. Rewatch the third season of “Mad Men” and all is well. Then circumstances forced me into finding a proper teaching job at the university, then our son Leo came along, not to mention the revealing brushstroke of fifty, half a century old, and tasked with teaching students who were not even born when I started teaching, who cheekily presume that before the Internet people lived in caves, and not even Plato’s, which at least provided shadow binge-watching for existential amusement, but plain old caves. In this damp, poor light, one can find solace in the fact that they too will not always be young.

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Fortunately, at age 50 I still write and play music, even with a wife and 3-year-old son, and a proper job as a university teacher. Something about the advent of middle age and fatherhood, and the responsibilities of teaching, produced in me a greater urgency, a more profound need, for these mantras, these little day-to-day philosophies, changes in outlook to negotiate the kaleidoscopic cityscape of the inner and outer souls, those within and without this great city. Not just the traffic and inflation, the commutes and crowds, but also the constant “change in the weather of the spirit,” as I think Baudelaire wrote. Istanbul is a wonderful city in many ways, but it is also a very demanding and tiring one, with some 15 million-plus souls all residing in this patchwork quilt of villages slapped atop a series of hills competing for the gaze of our fair mistress, the Bosphorus.

Lately, I’ve been nursing the tendrils of the spirit, casting about for these fine and forgotten philosophies, as I say. Thus, one could say that the duties of my present situation command me to reverse the order of that old Prague mantra: a few good decisions are in order.

Anyway, one reaches this point when everything forward seems to be an anticlimax, a simple repetition of days, months and years, when all things exciting and romantic have passed to the young, the encroaching feeling that one’s best days are behind them. Of course, there is our son, Leo, and we pray that his best days lie ahead as well, and that means that ours do as well. Maybe that’s something to work with, the idea that now is the time to focus on your child, the home and the teaching, the writing, even the music. To not fuss about the days gone by, or to worry how many are left. Maybe the thing to do is, in my case anyway, circle back to that philosophy of my youth, of Voltaire. The thing to do is to tend one’s garden. The difference this time being, to tend it well.

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James Tressler is a former Lost Coast resident and journalist. He now lives and writes in Istanbul.

UPDATE: Caltrans says they plan to open 36 at 8 a.m. on Monday morning. More details:

“For safety concerns, the section of roadway will only be open from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. daily and only one vehicle will be allowed through the slide area at a time. Because this is a dynamic situation, this is subject to change. Motorists can anticipate delays of up to 30 minutes or longer if necessary. Routes 20 and 299 are available as state-route detours.”

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Highway 36 remains closed just west of Grizzly Creek, between Carlotta and Bridgeville, due to an active slide. As of this morning, there is no estimated time for reopening the roadway.

“The aerial photo shows just how large the slide area is … Once we do open Route 36, it is possible traffic will be limited to daylight hours in order to maximize monitoring visibility,” according to a Facebook post from Caltrans District 1. “Routes 20 and 299 are available as state-route detours.”

Keep an eye on Caltrans Quickmap or the Caltrans District 1 Facebook page for current road conditions. We’ll update when we know more.

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Map of Caltrans closure. If the big STOP sign isn’t appearing in the center at the time you read this, then the road has been reopened.

Global warming increases the amount of moisture in the atmosphere, supercharging winter storms like the slate of atmospheric rivers that have smashed the West Coast. More moisture also means increased risk of flooding, as we have tragically experienced this year. More moisture might sound good in recent drought years but it’s more complicated than that. A warming planet also increases the risk of summer droughts, despite increased winter moisture. Climate scientist Michael Furniss joins Gang Green to talk through how climate impacts weather.

REQUIRED READING:

• Climate Change and California’s Atmospheric Rivers
• How climate change will make atmospheric rivers even worse

Iris J. Moon, 13, of Orleans, passed away on Wednesday, December 21, 2022.

Iris was born in Eureka on March 16, 2009 to her mother, Barbera Randall and her father, David Moon Sr. She joined her older siblings Daisy Reece, Luke Reece and Violet Moon. Her number of siblings grew after her youngest brother David Moon Jr. was born.

Iris spent her life smiling, laughing, caring for others, playing softball, basketball, wrestling and cheerleading, drawing, attending school, spending time with family and friends. She was a very beautiful, smart, strong and loving girl, who was loved by so many people in her family and community. She was known for always trying to make others laugh and smile with her goofy personality. She was also very protective of her family and would go out of her way for others at all times. Whether she really knew them or not, she treated everyone with the same love and kindness. She had a heart of gold and made a very memorable impression on those who were fortunate enough to know her.

Even though Iris was known for being sweet, you can’t forget about the sass she brought. Everyone was able to see this through glimmers of her personality, the tiktoks she made and the jokes she shared. A lot of what people didn’t get to see in Iris was her strength, her voice, her hope and her fight. Iris will always be known for her bravery, fighting to make sure that she was heard and she made her voice loud to share her story. Iris will never be forgotten because she leaves behind the hope for others to carry on. Iris’s strength will always be remembered. It wasn’t until the last few years that Iris struggled with her mental health, but she continued to fight as long and as hard as she could.

She will be remembered through her parents, siblings, granny Geraldine Moon, her grandmothers, Elouise Marshall, Melody Cossey, her auntie Cherri Moon, Shelly Moon, Viola Marshall, Kachina Cossey, Angela Randall, Felicia Randall, Nisha Casteneda, Diane James and April Sylvia, her uncles, Eagle Moon, Joshua Moon and Eric Castaneda, her cousins Victoria Moon-Sanchez, Elizabeth Moon, John Moon, Niklaus Moon-Overholt, Cheyenne Noneo, Chloe Moon, Joshua Moon Jr., Jessie Moon, O’dell Moon, Moira Moon, Anthony Moon, Robert Moon, Little Eagle Moon, Hawk Mowgli Moon, Kuustan Shinar, Nathan Shinar Jr., Alana Stauffacher, Eric Marshall, Mikey Titus, Wayne Marshall, Patricia Chavez, Alex Chavez, Fabio Chavez, Carmen Chavez, Summer Marshall, Jimmy Thom, Paul Aubrey, Daniel Aubrey, David Blake, Timothy Blake, Jonathan Blake, Pamela Houston, Kimberly Houston, Auhna Casteneda, Loretta Casteneda, Mason Ferris, Paul Aubrey Jr., Lauralye Aubrey, Ts’isnah White, Kelsie Aubrey, Gabe Hayden, Nancy Huntzinger, Quincy Hayden, Nathaniel Huntzinger, Melody Huntzinger, Frankie Jr., and her niece Amelia Bailey.

Iris has touched so many lives through her naturally nurturing character and will forever be remembered in that way. Anyone that has met Iris easily saw her beauty, sweet, kind and gentle soul. She will be dearly missed by all of her loved ones and may her heart be at peace.

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

William Glen Williams (Bill) (Chief)
December 24, 1945 - December 31, 2022

Bill left us unexpectedly in the early morning hours of December 31, 2022, at the age of 77. He was born in Fort Bragg, California, Dec. 24, 1945, to Clarence and Juanita Williams. He is survived by his wife of fifty years, Linda. He is also survived by his sister Kay (Steve) Funk of Fort Bragg, nephews Mark (Lynn) Hopper, Mike Hopper, niece Kelly (Marc) Tamborini and several nieces and nephews.

Bill spent his childhood in Caspar, California, where his father Clarence worked at the Caspar Mill. He began his schooling there (he opined that he was “teacher’s pet”) and had fond memories of playing with friends and of the Caspar Lumber Company community.

The family moved to Fort Bragg in the fifties, where Bill continued his education. He and his friends had impromptu baseball games. And there was fishing in the Noyo River as well as abalone picking with Dad, Boy Scouts and school crossing guard duty, newspaper sales and school sports. He spent summers camping at Boyles Camp (Big River) with his grandmother Ethel Galli, his sister Judy, relatives and other families.

These activities were curtailed in high school when Bill got a job at the Advocate News as a printer’s assistant, working after school on the big press alongside the other men. He saved his money. He wanted to go to college. And that’s what he did.

He entered Sonoma State College (Go Cossacks!) in the fall of 1963, majoring in history and embarking on what he would recall as the best time of his life. He was active in student government (treasurer), participated in athletics (medaled in track), travelled a bit with The Bronze Hog (a ‘60s band), made lasting friendships and acquired the appellation “Chief”, which would stick with him for life. He worked summers and did odd jobs in order to support himself and continue with college.

In 1968, Uncle Sam decided it was his turn to enjoy Bill’s company and he was inducted into the Marines on May 2, 1968. He could type and thereby ended up in Hawaii after boot camp, using his typewriter more than his rifle. He earned his sharpshooter medal and was in the Honor Guard. He was released from active duty and came home to Fort Bragg in May, 1970. He grew his hair, quit shaving, did a little babysitting for his sister Judy’s kids, and set about reconnecting with his hometown friends and family.

He and Linda renewed their college friendship at a chance meeting at the Broiler Steak House in Ukiah, and soon the friendship blossomed. They married in 1972, settled in Santa Rosa but moved to Fort Bragg after seven years. One year later Bill bought Orick Market in partnership with Linda’s parents, Bus and Rusty Newbrough. In 1990, Bus and Rusty retired and moved back to Ukiah, selling their half of the business to Bill and Linda. Bill was known to hop over the Redwood Creek levee during steelhead season for some angling, but the store took up most of his time. In 2007, he sold the store. During his tenure, Bill was fortunate to have good employees, including Marie Vaughn, Mary Bailey and Connie Secor who worked steadfastly until the doors were closed for the last time.

Bill, not ready to stop working, went to work for Paul and Phil Ayers at Ayers Distributing. He enjoyed his time there, seeing old friends who used to service the store in Orick and making new ones. He and Linda moved to McKinleyville, and he retired after several years, keeping in touch with many of the Ayers crew and with Phil and Paul. As the saying goes, “He never met a stranger.” He always remembered those he met and took an interest in their families and well-being.

Bill loved animals, and over the years he and Linda adopted a number of homeless dogs as well as numerous cats, the last being “Geeko,” who lived with them for twenty years.

Chief was preceded in death by his father, Clarence Williams, his Mother, Juanita Williams, and his sister, Judith Hopper. Arrangements were made at Sanders Funeral Home, Eureka. A time for gathering and remembrance has not been set.

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The obituary above was submitted on behalf of Bill Williams’ loved ones. The Lost Coast Outpost runs obituaries of Humboldt County residents at no charge. See guidelines here. Email news@lostcoastoutpost.com.

Joseph John Del Grande died December 3, 2022 in Arcata while recovering from surgery. He was 94.

Born on July 23, 1928 in Massa Macinaia, Italy, Joe emigrated to Humboldt County with his family in 1939. A graduate of Eureka High School, Joe spent his remaining 83 years in Humboldt County living life to the fullest. He was an avid hunter, fisher and gardener, and was most joyous when he could share his bounty and a glass of wine with friends and family. Life was about breaking bread with others, sharing stories, and enjoying each other’s company.

In 1985, he married Ruth Reynolds, his wife of 37 years. Together they forged a marriage of sharing, of trust and of love, watching their family grow around them. She was at his side until the end.

Joe is also survived by his son Greg, from a previous marriage, his son Mark (Angela) and step-daughter Pat (Chris) from his marriage to Cleta, and his step-daughters Kathy (Larry) and Dianne from his marriage to Ruth. His grandchildren include Mason, Joe, Ariacella, Sergio, Thomas (Tonya), and Jacque (Ross); and great-granddaughter Ava. All will dearly miss the patriarch of our Del Grande family, our husband, father and papa.

Joe was preceded in death by his mother, Libera, father, Victor, and sisters Mary and Mafalda.

A memorial service will be held 2 p.m. Saturday, 21 January, at the Lutheran Church of Arcata. In lieu of flowers, please offer a donation in Joe’s name to your favorite wildlife or hunting charity.

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The obituary above was submitted on behalf of Joe Del Grande’s loved ones. The Lost Coast Outpost runs obituaries of Humboldt County residents at no charge. See guidelines here. Email news@lostcoastoutpost.com.

Arroyo (left) and Landry.

Press release from newly seated Humboldt County Supervisor Natalie Arroyo:

I am pleased to announce my selection of Lonyx Landry for the Humboldt County Planning Commission District 4 seat.

Lonyx brings a fantastic skillset to the Commission, with a strong background in education, watershed science, and community development. He is a citizen of the Nor Rel Muk Wintu Nation, a leader within Cal Poly Humboldt’s Indian Natural Resources, Science and Engineering Program, and a Councilmember with the Northern California Indian Development Council.

Lonyx has an educational background in biology, Native American education, and natural resources, and conducted his post-baccalaureate research in soil science. Lonyx has a robust and diverse employment history, having worked for multiple local Tribes and community organizations as a teacher, a social services director, an advisor about Tribal community needs, and a mentor to youth and adults pursuing education and work in the sciences. Additionally, Lonyx volunteers his time to planning the California Indian Big Time and Social Gathering and is an active community member in and around his home of Eureka.

Lonyx shared that he looks forward to bringing his strong grassroots values, local knowledge, and indigenous perspective to the Planning Commission.

After careful consideration, I asked Lonyx to serve in this capacity because of his depth of knowledge about local issues, his ability to draw from multiple wells of knowledge in the sciences and use an analytical approach to issues, and his incredible warmth of spirit and strong relationships. It’s an exciting time for Humboldt County, and I believe Lonyx will serve the 4th District very well and bring a fresh perspective to planning-related matters.

This appointment will be part of the Board of Supervisors’ agenda on January 24th, 2023. I wish to sincerely thank Mike Newman, the current 4th District Planning Commissioner, for his years of service in this capacity.