It was just about exactly two years ago that the then-owners of the Fieldbrook Market posted a note to their Facebook page — they just weren’t able to make a go of it anymore.

It was a shame. Those owners, Clark and Lisa Springer — and the owners before them, Ross and Kelli Costa — had attempted something audacious with the out-of-the-way country market that had served the Fieldbrook community for decades. Their business proposition wasn’t just saving people a trip to town — it was luring people out of town and into Fieldbrook, where they could enjoy a nice dinner and choose from a big selection of tap beers and catch some music at the Market.

It was a fun scene. Your correspondent had some memorable evenings there.

But then, a year later, in stepped Ireland native and Blue Lake resident Paddy O’Dwyer to attempt to revive the place and rebrand it as the Fieldbrook Country Kitchen. After an absurd number of delays and setbacks, all chronicled on the Kitchen’s Facebook page, the place finally opened in June and immediately started hosting bands and trivia nights and karaoke contests and football watch parties — all the stuff.

But then, over the weekend, this brief note:

With a heavy heart we have to let everyone know due to financial hardships we unfortunately have had to close our doors here. Thanks to everyone who supported our business.

This is very sad, for Fieldbrook and the county and the nation. Every loss of a roadhouse juke joint makes America less than it was. RIP, Fieldbrook Market, at least until some poetical soul with deep pockets comes along to rekindle the flame.

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CORRECTION: Since the original publication of this article a couple of hours ago, we’ve expanded and corrected the second paragraph to include a little bit more about the history of the market’s ownership, and to fix a name we flubbed. The Outpost regrets the error.

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Dig out your waders and grab your cameras —  the king tides are coming!

This year’s king tides will roll in during high tide on Thursday morning — anywhere from 10:05 to 10:50 a.m. — and continue through Friday, though high-than-usual tides are still expected through Saturday morning.

If you’re new to the coast and/or you’ve no idea what these regal waves entail, king tides are the super-high tides that occur when the Earth, Moon and Sun align just so during a new or full moon, resulting in some of the biggest waves tides of the year. Estimates from the California King Tides Project indicate that this year’s king tides will exceed 9.85 feet in some areas — about 1.5 feet higher than average high tide — and bring flooding to low-lying areas around Humboldt Bay.

This is where you come in! Each year, the California Coastal Commission asks coastal dwellers to document the king tides to help the local and state officials get a clearer picture of what sea level rise is going to look like around the bay in the coming decades. If you feel compelled, head on out to one of the spots on the map below and snap a few pictures of the sea in the name of science. You’ll want to be a little extra cautious with extra high tides. 

If you’d rather go with a group, Friends of the Arcata Marsh will host its annual king tides tour on Friday, Dec. 5, from 11 a.m. to noon. Meet the hosts on South I Street in the first gravel parking lot in from Samoa Boulevard. More information on documenting king tides can be found in the California Coastal Commission’s press release below.

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We need your help to photograph the King Tides, the highest projected tides of the year. Your photos create a record of changes to our shoreline while helping us understand what’s vulnerable to flooding now and how sea level rise will impact California in the future. The next dates for the California King Tides Project are December 4 & 5, 2025, and December 6 in southern California and some northern California locations. The final King Tides of the season will be January 2 & 3, 2026.

Find your King Tide dates and times by looking at the pin on our tide map that’s closed to where you would like to photograph. Try to take your photos within a half hour of peak high tide, and above all else, make sure you’re safe when you do it.

Learn how to take and upload your photos.

Browse King Tide photos on our photo map and on the California King Tides Project website.

Tips:

• Have Location Services ON for your camera app so we can accurately map your photo. (If you never turned it off, it’s probably on.)
• Include something immobile in your photo, like access stairs, a bluff, a seawall, a pier, or something else that will help show the water level.
• Photos of roadways flooded by tidal water are helpful too.
• Shorebirds may be higher up than usual during king tides - try not to disturb wildlife while taking your photo.
• Post a King Tides Project flyer to help spread the word.

We’re hosting a webinar on Dec.2, from 12:00 p.m. -12:30 p.m., to learn about the King Tides Project and how to participate, including more tips on how to take a great king tides photo. Register here. (Attendance is not required to participate in the project.)

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This story was originally published by CalMatters. Sign up for their newsletters.

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Until this year, UCLA senior Syed Tamim Ahmad considered staying in the U.S. after graduation to pursue his dream of becoming a doctor. But when the Trump administration revoked thousands of student visas last spring, he spent many sleepless nights supporting his peers as his school’s international student representative. The experience left him exhausted.

Ultimately, most student visas were reinstated following pressure from courts and judges nationwide. But the speed and intensity of the revocations — coupled with a lack of institutional support — caused distrust and anxiety for international students like Ahmad.

“After all that fiasco, I decided no, not anymore,” said Ahmad, who was born in India and raised in the United Arab Emirates.

Ahmad, an integrated biology and physiological sciences major, is now planning to go to medical school in Australia, where he said he can do research “in peace” without fearing changes to his visa status or funding.

A recent report by the Institute of International Education shows that the number of international college students in the U.S. is mostly stable for now, with just a 1% decrease in enrollment this fall. However, the report also found a 17% decline in new international students enrolling in American colleges and universities.

And from what students like Ahmad are saying, fewer are also likely to stay in the U.S. after graduation.

Tightening federal policies about who can live and work in the U.S. from abroad threaten further decreases in enrollment and losses of talent. International students bring diverse viewpoints and perspectives that enrich the classroom environment and lead to scientific and economic advancements, researchers and faculty alike told CalMatters.

The National Science Board found in a 2022 report that more temporary visa holders earn STEM doctorates than citizens and permanent residents combined, while international students earn a disproportionate amount of doctoral degrees in critical and emerging technologies. Foreign students in particular drive scientific research and advancement in the U.S.

Over 1.1 million international students studied in the U.S. during the last academic year. Of those students, 12.5% — over 140,000 — studied in California, making it the state with the largest international student population.

Last fall, international students made up 12% of the total student enrollment in the University of California system, with over 35,000 students from foreign countries. The California State University system enrolls nearly 14,000 international students, or about 3% of total enrollment.

This fall, the Cal State number has dropped to 12,122 students, according to the Cal State data dashboard. An official with the University of California Office of the President said the UC will not release enrollment data until later in December or January.

The Institute of International Education collected responses from 828 U.S. higher education institutions for its report. While it is unclear how many of these were California institutions, the report states that 22% of responses were from western states.

The UC system has faced pressure from the California Legislature in recent years to increase the number of students from California. In response, the UC’s 2030 Capacity Plan proposed decreasing the amount of nonresident students. UC Regents also increased tuition for incoming nonresident students by over $3,400 starting this fall.

Scenario modeling from the Association of International Educators showed California facing a projected 15% decline in overall international student enrollment this academic year. This would mean over 7,000 fewer international students for California’s two public university systems. The education nonprofit projects this drop could result in California losing more than $1 billion in revenue — based on the tuition and living expenses foreign students must pay — with similar enrollment trends across the country driving losses of nearly $7 billion nationwide.

Current realities for international students in California

Dorothy, an undergraduate student from China and opinion columnist for The Daily Cal at UC Berkeley, said anxiety has increased among her peers under Trump’s presidency. She asked that her full name not be published due to fear of retaliation from the federal government.

Recently, her reporting on the international student experience in California has been bleak.

“A lot of students are just debating whether they should focus their future on their home country or continue to seek employment here” after graduating, she said.

She also said no amount of support from her university would be enough to make her feel fully secure from federal policy.

“If I get my visa revoked, I [won’t] be able to just come back and continue my education here, because [the decision] can be overruled by a larger government,” she said.

The total number of foreign students pursuing higher education in the U.S. under the F-1 visa, which classifies holders as nonimmigrant full-time students, had steadily increased since 2020, surpassing pre-COVID numbers in 2024.

At the same time, the number of foreign students on temporary work authorizations, called Optional Practical Training, also increased. In the last academic year, nearly 300,000 foreign students were working with the authorization, a 21% increase from the prior year. Part of this accounted for graduate students entering the workforce.

But graduate student numbers are also declining. This fall, graduate enrollment decreased by 12%, according to the Institute of International Education report, which may also be a response to Trump’s research funding cuts.

Namrata on the Sacramento State campus on Nov. 14, 2025. Namrata is an international student from India studying political science at Sacramento State. She uses the singular name Namrata as her legal name. Photo by Aliza Imran for CalMatters

Sacramento State student Namrata, an international student from India who uses the singular name as her legal name, said her academic experience as a political science major has suffered due to her international student status.

She said faculty and peers have advised her to avoid writing about certain topics in her academic papers. Namrata referenced a recent English paper she wrote on freedom of speech, explaining that her professor cautioned her against making the piece overly political and discouraged her from addressing issues such as genocides or human rights violations. She said she feels restricted within her major and that her “degree doesn’t have value.”

“I don’t even have an equal chance to succeed as other students,” she said. “I wish I was them.”

Namrata is thinking about pursuing her master’s degree in another country or her home country.

Roma Singh, a freshman cinematic arts major from South Africa at Cal State Long Beach, said that while the immigration crackdown did “throw a wrench” in her plans, she ultimately decided that coming to California was the best decision for her aspirations. Singh hopes to pursue a career in Hollywood, and that being near Los Angeles will allow her to enter the industry.

Singh said that attaining her F-1 student visa was a difficult process. Embassy appointments were scarce, and she and her family scanned the embassy website for hours, several days in a row, to find an opening.

“I know some students who were hoping to attend Long Beach and they weren’t able to because they weren’t able to get an appointment,” Singh said.

International students are anxious about their futures

Many international students come to the U.S. with the goal of staying permanently. But with the Trump administration’s crackdown on immigrants, several told CalMatters the U.S. is becoming a less desirable destination for education and residency.

The path for international students to stay in the U.S. after graduation isn’t easy. Through the temporary work authorization, F-1 visa holders can work in the U.S. for up to 12 months. The institute report shows that 92% of higher education institutions believe that without that work authorization, international students would likely choose other countries for their education.

Syed Tamim Ahmad on the UCLA campus in April 2023. Ahmad is an international student from United Arab Emirates who will be leaving the U.S. for medical school in Australia. Photo by Kush Agarwal

Students may also pursue a work visa like the H-1B, which permits residency for an initial three-year period.

But a recent additional $100,000 fee for the H-1B visa — a common next step for international students wishing to stay in the U.S. after graduation — adds a roadblock for international students hoping to remain in the U.S.

One major challenge for thousands of students, both current and prospective, has been navigating Trump’s June travel ban to and from 12 countries, mostly in the Middle East and Africa. For seven more countries spread across the globe, he enacted a partial travel ban, including forbidding new student visas.

Students who already had visas were not subject to the ban, but many were advised by their universities to not leave the U.S., as re-entry was not guaranteed due to rapidly changing federal policy.

What international students bring to California

International students are a key source of revenue for tuition-driven universities, as they are not eligible for federal financial aid and often pay full tuition.

With 50% of students at the UC and Cal State paying zero tuition due to financial aid, the higher tuition paid by international and out-of-state students is advantageous, said Valerie Lundy-Wagner, associate director of the Public Policy Institute of California’s higher education center.

For the 2026-27 academic year, full-time nonresident students at the UCs will pay over $36,000 more in tuition than resident students. Assuming a normal credit load, nonresident students at Cal State will pay $14,000 more in tuition.

But while international students provide more tuition revenue than domestic ones, Lundy-Wagner said potential declines in enrollment are not dire, as institutions will have time to assess the intensity of enrollment declines and “what risk to tuition revenue they can expect,” allowing them to redistribute resources accordingly.

“No one expects that next year there are going to be no international students,” she said.

For institutions in California, particularly graduate programs, Lundy-Wagner said the presidential administration’s recent slashing of federal research funding is “more of an immediate issue” than declines in international enrollment.

And if enrollment declines are significant enough, the UC and Cal State systems can always supplement losses in tuition revenue with out-of-state students, as “there are still plenty of other states they could be recruiting from” where students would pay the same nonresident tuition.

But international students bring much more to California than simply additional tuition revenue, Lundy-Wagner said.

“The state has a diverse economy. Diverse economies require people who have diverse perspectives, and some of that will come in through folks who are coming from different countries,” she said. “It benefits California students and faculty to be interacting with folks who are from these different places and spaces.”

Sujatha Moni, a women’s and gender studies professor from India who teaches at Sacramento State, agrees.

She said that international students bring a unique perspective from their cultural backgrounds and interact with class content differently, providing domestic students with new viewpoints that they otherwise wouldn’t have been exposed to.

“International students enhance the value of education on our campus,” she said. “They bring that critical diversity that is much needed, that is so enriching, for any campus.”

Applying to study in California now

Despite the challenges, Dorothy said she has never regretted her decision to come to California for her university education, citing interesting classes, high-caliber professors and a vibrant, international community as draw factors.

She said if international families can afford to send their students to the U.S., and if they “value the experience and the education itself, it’s still worth it” to study here. She is encouraging her brother to also study in the U.S.

At UCLA, Ahmad said he is wary about recommending international students study in the U.S., citing how draining it has been for him to constantly worry about his visa status and potential cuts to research funding on top of being a student. He told his brother to “absolutely not” apply to the U.S. for law school.

“Given the current situation, I would say no,” he said. “But if it was like, a year back, … I would say yes.”

Ahmad looks forward to finally being in Australia, away from “the political drama” in the U.S. and the pressure to constantly advocate for himself and his international peers.

“I can also take a step back and, you know, be a student.”

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Aliza Imran and Kahani Malhotra are contributors with the College Journalism Network, a collaboration between CalMatters and student journalists from across California. CalMatters higher education coverage is supported by a grant from the College Futures Foundation.

Sonya Lynne Stringer (Englis) passed away peacefully the morning of November 1, 2025. Born November 15, 1941 in Eureka, she lived in Humboldt County her entire life. She attended elementary and high school in Arcata.

Her freshman year of high school, she spotted Mike Stringer across the quad at lunchtime and told her girlfriend; I’m going to be going steady with him. They were married a week before she graduated from Arcata High School on June 06, 1959.

In 1961 they welcomed son Steve, followed by daughter Kris in 1963. They lived in Fortuna and Eureka. In 1981 they found their dream property on three acres out in Freshwater on the creek. Together they developed it into a paradise, spending every day off and vacation building fences, laying cement, landscaping and gardening. Both retiring from Safeway, in 1995 and 2000, they enjoyed a wonderful life there for the last 43 years.

Known by Sunny, she was nicknamed at a very early age because of her good nature and cheerful disposition; she always looked at the bright side of everything and could find something good in everyone. Her smile truly did light up a room, making everyone feel warm and welcome. She was kind, generous, fun, optimistic, selfless, accepting, resilient and forgiving. She had a spunky spirit, quiet strength and a true dedication to family. We all enjoyed her special way of storytelling. Sunny’s faith and belief in God were woven throughout her life in the way she lived and treated people. She was an extraordinary person who lived a remarkably humble and simple life. Sunny loved animals too, especially dogs. When she was five she took all her allowance, walked a few blocks to the pet store and brought home a puppy.

As a family, they enjoyed fishing, camping, cutting firewood up at the family property in Dinsmore, a historic trip to Disneyland in a motor home down the Monterey Coast and many family gatherings. She even tried golf once because Mike liked it so much ! She cherished every visit with her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, especially Christmas time. She loved all the pictures and videos her grandchildren would often send of the great grandchildren. She was very proud of her grandchildren and valued their relationships. She loved sharing their latest accomplishments, pictures and videos with other family members and her closest friends. Sunny and her best friend since kindergarten, Rita Madison, enjoyed getting away together every couple of years to Reno or Las Vegas for a Girl’s Getaway. Rita and her family were part of the family. They remained close like sisters until their passing; only a week apart.

Mike and Sunny’s 70-year love story continued until the day she passed. The caption under Mike’s senior picture in the yearbook read : One Woman Man. His love and adoration for her was unceasing. The life they had together was nurtured by mutual respect, hard work, fun, family and love. During her short illness, she remained gracious, selfless and ever optimistic. After her last radiation treatment, the radiologist asked her if she wanted to ring the bell. She said No, not until it’s gone. She accepted Jesus a couple months before she passed away. We have peace and joy knowing she’s with God. We know she’s ringing that bell in Heaven !

She is survived by her husband Mike, of 66 years. Her sisters Llana and Gary Thompson, Lee Ann Wonnacott and brother Leonard and Ellen Wonnacott. Brothers-in-law Bill Stringer, Brian and Sue Stringer, sister in law Kathy Stringer, Her son Steve and Teresa Stringer, daughter Kris Pastori, grandchildren Cari and Braulio Escareno, Michael and Angela Sanders, Cory and Alex Sanders, Joe Stringer, Jessica and Ben Coombs, Jill Kelly, James and Hayley Pastori, great-grandchildren Damien Escareno, Anakin Stringer, Nicholas Sanders, Jackson, Callum, Joanna and Clarissa Coombs, Tayler and Jaina Stephens, Ashlynne and Teegan Kelly, Dawsyn, Rye and Lucy Pastori, and Aunt Nancy MacGowan.

She is preceded in death by her parents, Richard and Lyrle Englis; father- and mother-in-law Ross and Marguerite Stringer; brother-in-law Patrick Stringer; and best friend of 78 years, Rita Madison.

Sunny’s family would like to thank her entire wonderful medical care team, who cared for her tirelessly with affection, respect and excellence. Special thanks to her entire palliative team at Madrone Care and everyone at Hospice of Humboldt.

No services will be held. You are welcome to donate to Hospice of Humboldt in her memory or serve at a local animal shelter.

Before I ever got to Eureka I started out in journalism in a mill town — Sanford — in the state of Maine. My first editor was Norman “Red” McCann. When he hired me he said, “Let me tell you, the press is the last outpost in a republic. Once the bastards get control of the government, once they get the courts, there’s nothing left but the press. Believe me, boy, we’re democracy’s last line of defense. Are you ready to roll up your sleeves and go to work?”

Red paid the ultimate price for his idealism. When a new group bought the paper, they wanted him to kill a story that was embarrassing to a prominent family. He couldn’t oblige. For twenty years he had been honest with the public record, and for his fidelity to the First Amendment he was forced to retire.

As he descended the stairs on his last day. Red kept saying, “Time to haul in the flag. The last bastion of liberty has been breached.”

In disillusionment and looking to start afresh, I headed west and eventually wound up in Eureka.

The rough and tumble life of Eureka in those days was liberation for a soul tethered to Old Testament and Puritan principles. Eureka spelled freedom for an adventurous youth of twenty-four. With its whore houses, card rooms, gin mills, loggers, ranchers, vast forests and a waterfront teeming witb crabbers, trawlers and ocean-going freighters, Eureka seemed like a brave new world.

The Humboldt Times, where I worked, was a morning paper. Its sister publication, the Humboldt Standard, came out in the afternoon. Both were owned by the Eureka Newspapers, Inc., at 328 E Street, between Third and Fourth Streets, in a two-story building. Harriet’s, and all-night restaurant, was a few steps away. The Annex Bar was next door, a refuge for Times journalists after the paper was put to bed.

Hodge.

Almost everyone on the paper had an alibi for working there. Elmer L. Hodgkinson Jr., or Hodge, as we called him, had fled his native Oklahoma when a sheriff showed up at his father’s house with a warrant for Hodge’s arrest. He was wanted for child support. “Just a minute, I’ll see if he’s in,” said Hodge. He threw some an clothes into a suitcase and skipped out the back door.

Don O’Kane, the publisher, who came down from Portland, liked to say he hit Eureka with fifty cents in his pocket, but if he’d had another fifty cents he would have kept on going.

Jehanne Salinger, the society editor, came up from San Francisco to escape a rocky marriage. Jehanne’s son, Pierre Salinger, was a reporter with the San Francisco Chronicle. He was later the press secretary to President Kennedy and, for a time, President Johnson. And for a brief period Pierre was one of California’s U S. senators.

Only Andrew M. Genzoli had nothing to apologize for. A regional historian and prolific writer, he was a proud native of Ferndale. He gave of his vast learning liberally in his writings, and also in his advice to fledgling journalists like myself. Andy was the only one of us who was probably indispensable.

As a stringer for the AP, Hodge was always on the lookout for stories that the wire service might want to run. A local story that “made” the wires not only put Eureka on the map, it also put a few dollars in Hodge’s pocket.

A good example would be when Horace Heidt, the bandleader, came to town. When Heidt disembarked from his bus in Eureka after an adventurous ride from the Bay Area, the shaken musician suggested that tortuous 101 be renamed for Marilyn Monroe.

Hodge chuckled as he read my copy. Then he waved me over to his desk. An idea was coming to boil.

The next morning the Horace Heidt suggestion was the peg for a front page story accompanied by a picture of the curvaceous actress superimposed on a map of the Redwood Highway. Readers were told that we’d forwarded the idea to Miss Monroe and that we awaited her response — breathlessly.

She replied in a telegram a day or two later. “1 appreciate the humor in your story,” she said, “but I couldn’t go along with the Horace Heidt suggestion even in jest.”

Marilyn Monroe may have declined the honor but Hodge was not dismayed. The AP ran the Monroe story. It netted Hodge $5 or $10.

At this time — the mid-1950s — agents of the communist conspiracy were assumed to be everywhere: in federal, state and local governments; in towns large and small; in the house next door. The Reds were in the schools, contaminating the water, and in the churches. And the liberals were the usual suspects. In this fearful climate, another idea was percolating in Hodge’s head. I sensed it the moment he chuckled softly to himself and lit a cigarette.

“Boy!” he called out to me. “How many highway fatalities would you say we have every year? One a week, maybe more? High time to do something about highway safety.”

And with a few taps on the keyboard Hodge brought into being an organization of quasi-vigilantes called Drivers Alert. The headline screamed:

The article called upon motorists to report incidents of reckless driving as a backup to law enforcement. Hodge had struck a nerve. In a week we collected hundreds of dollars in membership fees. We took in more money in the following weeks.

“If the response keeps up this way,” said Hodge, “we’ll be in the running for a Pulitzer.”

But as Ernie Snowberger, our staff skeptic, observed, Hodge and I had turned a lot of nuts loose and now how were we going to get the genie back in the bottle?

Drivers Alert members were taking to the highways and streets and running after drivers — in some instances to settle scores with neighbors and people they didn’t like. The police, no fans of Hodge’s brainchild, were not amused. Worse, crusaders tramped up to the newsroom besieging Hodge and me with notions on how to bring wayward drivers to justice. We were spooked. Hodge and I were ink-stained wretches, not organizers. After a period of indecision, we recruited a committee of top people to take control of the movement.

But before we took the step Hodge, Ernie, Al Tostado, and I made good on all our IOUs to Drivers Alert. Frequently broke, especially before payday, we dipped into the sboebox where the Drivers Alert membership funds were kept. Our laissez-faire behavior was probably felonious (though we left IOUs behind) but consider: When you’ve worked till midnight and you’re as dry as a bone, and the bars close in two hours and you’re young and your heart’s on fire, you’ve got to make allowances.

Such was the philosophy Al and I espoused. And Ernie, too, though he was our conscience.

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Although full-page Sunday features were popular with readers, the pieces were done on our own time. Hodge couldn’t spare us during the six-day week. Neither would O’Kane pay for overtime. As Hodge put it, the publisher is guaranteeing us forty-eight hours of gainful employment every week.

“Sunday’s my only day off,” I protested.

Hodge shook his head. “I thought you were looking for experience, boy, making a name for yourself.”

Hodge’s mother was half Arapaho, and be took a fierce pride in that part of his ancestry. Not surprisingly he took a keen interest in the Indian tribes in our circulation area. Yurok basket-weavers, sweat houses, Hoopa medicine men, ceremonial feasts and deerskin dances, and Klamath fishers and waterfowl hunters were Hodge-assigned features broadening my education as a young journalist.

In fact, Hodge was curious about everything. So, at his bidding, I explored the Del Loma caves in Trinity County, said to be a bandit hideout in frontier days; microscopic life on the shores of Humboldt Bay; a pygmy forest of pine and cypress in Mendocino County; an ancient lighthouse in a boiling sea off Crescent City; the terrible beauty of a logging operation in a redwood forest; the life of a commercial fisherman; the derring-do of steeplejacks; the tactics of a sheepherding rabbit.

I passed some five wonderful years under Hodge’s tutelage at the Humboldt Times. But without knowing it I was looking for a way out. The midnight chases in police cars had palled; the rowdiness at council meetings induced torpor.

My humor did not improve with Hodge pressing me every night for a fresh highway fatality or stickup, even a second-rate burglary.

“This paper’s dying on La-VINE,” Hodge said whenever I returned from my rounds empty-handed.

I began taking small parts in plays produced by the Union Town Players in Arcata. At dinnertime I’d scamper down the flight of stairs from the newsroom. My wife Donna would be waiting in the car outside with the motor running and a hot dinner. We’d race for the theatre as I wolfed down supper. As soon as the directors, Don Karshner or Bob Titlow, ran me through my few lines and dismissed me, we’d tear back to Eureka. Donna would get off at our H Street apartment and I’d fly off to the City Council or School Board or Sheriff’s Office — wherever the news beckoned.

A play I remember well was “Arsenic and Old Lace.” Gayle Karshner starred as one of the crazy old aunts. Jimmy Householder, my friend and a popular math professor at Humboldt State, played the mad Dr. Einstein. I was the genial, slow-witted Irish cop. In a production of Chekhov’s “Marriage Proposal,” I played the neurotic suitor, Cliff Peterson. A friend who ran a haberdashery in Eureka stole the show as the irate father.

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At about this time something new was in the wind — television. Like most newspaper people, I did not acknowledge TV as a serious medium for news. But the people running KVIQ were looking for a journalist to do the local news. The salary was $150 a week, $25 more than I was making at the newspaper. I would also be given a Volkswagen van for my personal use as well as for business. Hodge raised no objection to my leaving. If the move distressed him, he gave no sign of it.

In the fall of that year — 1962 — Richard Nixon was making his comeback. He’d been defeated two years before by John Kennedy in a contest for the presidency. Now he was running for governor of his native California. His itinerary called for a stop in Eureka.

Shadowing Nixon at this time was a story involving his younger brother, Donald. Questions were raised about a $205,000 loan that Howard Hughes, the reclusive billionaire, had made to Donald Nixon when Richard Nixon was Eisenhower’s vice president. For collateral the younger Nixon had put up a piece of property worth only $13,000. The press was asking why Hughes had been so generous to the vice president’s brother? Was there a quid pro quo? Was Richard Nixon linked to the deal? Up to now he had not been faced with questions about the loan on television.

KVIQ was an NBC affiliate. I queried the network: would it be interested in a spot with Nixon? The reply came quickly back, yes!

When I stepped into the room at the Eureka Inn for the Nixon interview, my cameraman, Buster DeBrunner, was grinning. The crew shooting commercials for the former vice president was offering us the use of their equipment. This was a big deal. We were a small station and had to make do with an antediluvian Auricon movie camera. It could shoot for only two and a half minutes before it was necessary to reload. Thus spontaneity, the essence of a television interview, would be lost. The Nixon crew’s camera was state-of-the-art, able to shoot non-stop for twelve and a half minutes. So now I was beaming, too.

Nixon stepped into the room. He moved lightly, efficiently, reminding me of a traveling actor who played many parts. 1 fired my questions about the Hughes loan. He kissed me off with finesse. Oh, yes, he’d heard all those rumors, but there wasn’t a scintilla of truth in any of it. And he went on, denigrating the allegations.

Nonetheless, the network wanted a minute of the interview. The substance of TV is not merely what someone says but the facial and body “language” with which it’s said. A “no comment” can sometimes convey high drama.

Buster and I gathered up our gear and the precious film, hugged the ad men for their benevolence, and tore off for the station.

I leaped to my desk while Buster dashed into the dark room. “Tell NBC we’ve got Nixon responding to the Hughes story!” I cried out to the receptionist and began typing. As I pounded out the script for narration I could hear Buster swearing. I ignored him but his voice grew louder.

“It’s ruined,” Buster said.

“What’s ruined?”

“The sound. It’s gone — erased, wiped out!”

Of course we lost our moment of glory on the Huntley-Brinkley Report. NBC wasn’t interested in a soundless interview.

We sent the film to a lab in San Francisco for answers. The analysis pointed to a number of possibilities — the film might have been defective, something might have gone wrong in the processor, and so on.

But in our hearts we believed Tricky Dick had struck again and taken us for the country bumpkins that we were!

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Coca-Cola sponsored our local news program. Before we switched to the network in New York for the NBC Nightly News, the deal called for me to hold up a Coke, invite viewers to join me in “the pause that refreshes,” put the bottle to my lips and take a swig.

My hand shook so much, I could only raise the bottle a few inches the from the news desk.

Buster made obscene gestures in an effort to loosen me up. Sam Horel, the station manager, planted himself next to the camera. To this day I can hear him muttering, “Drink the Coke, schmuck.”

Night after night they tried in vain to get me to drink the Coke. Fortunately, the ratings were pretty good so I kept my job. But soon Sam was after me to produce a documentary. It was to be about a real estate development in the redwoods south of Eureka. The “documentary” he was touting was not a legitimate news story at all, but a thirty-minute commercial masquerading as one. I couldn’t do it. People would no longer trust me. I’d lose my credibility. Sam backed off but the handwriting was on the wall.

While all this was going on, NBC News was reminding reporters in the affiliated stations that the deadline for applying for an RCA/NBC Fellowship to the Graduate School of Journalism at Columbia University was at hand. I spent many days filling out forms, getting recommendations, writing an essay for admission and arranging for transfer of my undergraduate records from the University of Maine.

Months passed. I’d forgotten the whole business when I answered the phone in the pressroom in the Eureka City Hall. On the other end someone said, “Mel Lavine?” Then he introduced himself. It was an unfamiliar name. “This is Milton Brown.” And then, “NBC News New York. Con-grat-u-LATIONS!”

A year later — in the late spring of 1964 — I graduated with a master’s degree in journalism from Columbia. I offered my benefactors first refusal, and NBC hired me as a news writer. My goal was to land a job on the prestigious Today Show. It was a period when the media were rediscovering America’s grass roots. Just before I went in for the Today Show interview friends urged me to talk up my Eureka years. I took the advice. In the end the producer said, “I believe you’re just what this show needs.”

I worked with Frank McGee and Barbara Walters, hosts of the Today broadcast, and then with Jim Hartz and Barbara, and later with Tom Brokaw and Jane Pauley. They succeeded Barbara when she left NBC for ABC to become the first million-dollar-a-year journalist and a superstar. During these years I lectured around the country and worked up a talk on news-gathering entitled “The Media — Lap Dog or Watchdog?” But when I took questions people wanted to know what was Barbara Walters really like?

In 1978, after fifteen years at NBC, I accepted an offer from CBS to write and produce for a new program, Sunday Morning, hosted by Charles Kuralt. I was the original writer for Sunday Morning when the broadcast went on the air in January of 1979. The show was anchored for many years by Kuralt and since then by Charles Osgood. Sunday Morning is still going strong and will be thirty years old come next January During my many years at CBS I spent one required memorable year as a writer and producer on a documentary for Walter Cronkite.

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While I was with Sunday Morning I got a phone call from the vice president of the Eureka branch of the Bank of America. It was about Drivers Alert, Hodge’s most successful brainchild. By now Hodge had been dead a few years. The publisher, Don O’Kane, had died some years earlier. The newspaper had changed hands, taken over by a British chain. Hodge had been elbowed aside, a new editor installed in his place. With little to do and shorn of authority, people told me that Hodge had started drinking again. He was sixty-seven when he died of kidney failure.

For many years I’d worried about people finding out that Hodge, Al, Ernie and I played fast and loose with Drivers Alert’s money, using it as if it were our personal bank. If word ever got out, people surely would condemn our behavior as criminal, a betrayal of the public trust — though we’d redeemed every last dime before turning the money over to a committee of responsible citizens.

“You called about the money?” I said. Like an animal frozen in the headlights, I thought I was a goner. No use playing games; cop a plea.

The banker was indeed calling about the money.

He’d sought in vain to bring the matter to the attention of people who’d served on the committee. Several were deceased, some too ill to see him, a few left no traces. Then he remembered me.

The funds, now totaling a few thousand dollars, I believe, had gone unclaimed for more than thirty years. Drivers Alert, long defunct, could no longer be carried on the books. The money had to be liquidated.

“What happens in cases like this?” I asked, greatly relieved.

“The money goes to charity. Do you have a favorite charity?”

“Yes,” I said, remembering how proudly Hodge spoke of the Indian blood he’d inherited from his mother’s side. “The Arapaho Indians.”

“Are you sure?”

I was sure, and sure it would have been okay with Hodge, too.

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Looking back, I can say that because of Hodge — Elmer L. Hodgkinson, Jr. — Eureka was my university. Hodge may have been shy, often diffident, sometimes self-deprecating. But he was witty and imaginative. All he wanted from a reporter were stories, the more exciting the better. His outlook happily reminded me of what Ted Gumble of Civil Defense had said when I first hit town:

“Out here we don’t care where you’ve been. We only want to know where you’re going.”

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Ruben DeLeon Marquez passed away tragically on October 22, 2025 in Willow Creek. He was born in Hoopa on June 29, 1981.

Ruben graduated from Hoopa Valley HS & went straight to Arizona to the Universal Technical Institute to graduate with a Associate of Occupational Studies Degree in Automotive, Diesel, and Industrial Technology. He immediately went to work for Billy Boat, former Indie car racer, then he went on to work for FabTech Motor Sports. After bumping around racing in a dune vehicle and fabricating he moved back to California. He started working for Aria Group, in Irvine which designed, engineered and manufactured automobiles. He was on top of his career when he was involved in a auto accident which took months to recover from. After a few years of working with daily pain he decided to move back to Willow Creek to be closer to his family.

He was born a social butterfly and when little league season started, there was Ruben coaching and umpiring. If you’d ask him “can you take a look at my car” he’d do it. If you’d ask him for a special weld, he’d do it. And if you just needed him to housesit he would do it because he was dependable.

His true love was playing his music. He had asked his second grade music teacher to teach him the guitar. He also took pleasure swimming and playing in the river every summer with his nieces and nephews.

He is survived by his parents Silvia DeLeon and Johnny Marquez; his aunts Rachel, Jessica, Geraldine and Ruby DeLeon; his uncles John and Eddie DeLeon and Ralph Reyes; and all his cousins, nieces and nephews.

He was preceded in death by his grandparents Joe and Maria DeLeon, and John and Marilyn Marquez.

Anyone who knew Ruben will immensely miss him. Te amo mucho hijo!

There will be two celebrations for Ruben. One will be at The Rock Slide Bar & Grill in Hawkins Bar, Hwy 299 on January 10 at 3 p.m. Potluck and grill will be open, and there will be lots of music. The second one will be in early spring at The Forks Bar in Willow Creek, date and time to be announced later via Facebook and posted at the bar.

Christopher Jack Sovereign, or CJ to those who knew him, was born in Ogden, Utah to Christine Williams and Jack Sovereign on March 4, 1991. CJ passed away on October 24, 2025, at just 34 years old. Very suddenly his passing has left a huge hole in the Hearts of those who loved him.

CJ grew up in Humboldt County with lots of family and friends, finally settling down and buying a home in Rio Dell with his wife in 2020. He loved hiking, long car rides (as long as he was driving), working on cars, fishing, camping, watching football, new movies, trying new food, spending time with his family amd extended family, having Oreo ice cream cake for his birthday and so much more. He hated his picture being taken more then anything but his wife loved taking them so he was burnt.

CJ had a huge heart and cared deeply for his family and would do anything for the ones he loved, literally and figuratively. He loved picking on his little sister relentlessly but would hurt anyone else that would. He had the strongest bond with his Mom and always thought of her first in any situation he could. CJ had a strong sense of loyalty to the ones he cared for and would stick by them even if it got him into trouble, which it did more often then not. Animals loved him just as much as he did them. He had a way with calming the most skittish of animals — even the squirrel that he had as a pet and named Buddy.

He was very patient when he wanted to be and he could be very pushy at other times when he thought it was taking too long. He did things how he wanted and expected everyone else to do things as he would as well. He always thought he was right even if he wasn’t, as he said “When I’m right I’m right and when I’m wrong I’m right.” He was called Grumpy Cat by his close friends and brothers the last few years because he was always so serious and came across as just grumpy with the face to match. He knew it was all out of love.

He said he hated pet names but he would smile when his wife called him by the one she gave him “hunny bunny.”

CJ went to many schools in the county and made many friends over the years. He left a everlasting impression on everyone he met, whether good or bad. He played junior football for EJLF. He would leave practice to go hang out with his best friend, now his wife, where she would make him lay on his stomach and rub his back to get him to take his shirt off. CJ did woodworking at Blue Ox Millworks, which he loved. CJ had an affinity for music and wiring car stereos, even though he was color blind. CJ was very good at troubleshooting and could diagnose car troubles almost instantly. He loved to work and keep his mind busy. When his mind wasn’t busy is when he would find himself in trouble.

CJ is preceded in death by his father, Jack Sovereign; grandmother Susan Sovereign and grandfather Jerry Sovereign; along with many aunts, uncles, cousins and friends.

He is survived by his mother, Christine Williams; his sisters Sheree and Travis Docherty, Brinda Sovereign and Marasa Williams; his brothers Krystopher Keeler, Tanner Knodel, Robert Carpenter and Jack Sovereign; his children, Redsky Downs, Talon and Nee-kweech Downs, Sally Sovereign and Robert Gibson; and his wife, Noticia Sovereign; and his nieces Ky and Kamie Docherty; his grandmother Vera Sovereign; and many aunts, uncles and cousins.

CJ did not want a funeral, because in his words “Why should there be one for them to act like they give a –— when they don’t right now.” So in lieu of a funeral we will hold a celebration on his birthday in March to celebrate his life. Arrangements and notifications will be made at a later date over social media.

Written by his best friend of 31 years, his wife Noticia Sovereign.

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The obituary above was submitted on behalf of Christopher Sovereign’s loved ones. The Lost Coast Outpost runs obituaries of Humboldt County residents at no charge. See guidelines here.