Anthony Leland Obie was born July 19th, 1964 and passed away on November 17th, 2022. Anthony is preceded in death by his paternal grandparents; Albert Obie and Adelia Norris-Obie; his maternal grandparents Jackson Ames and Carolyn Jake Ames; his parents Milton and Matilda “Tillie” Obie; his Obie Uncles and Aunties; His Ames Uncles and Aunties; his siblings Jon Obie and Denise Obie-Timmons; and his nieces Kimberly Obie and Cicelly Gabriel. Tony is survived by his wife Jolanda Ingram-Obie; his siblings Sharon Obie-Brown and Greg Brown, Judith Gabriel, and Roxanne Obie. He is survived by his children; Anthony Winterhawk Obie and Leah May-Obie, Teresina Obie, Lindsey Jackson, Ernie Jackson, and Taylor Obie and Bubu Beaman, Jalea and Troy Aubrey, and Jeff Mathison-Walker. He is survived by his grandchildren Kimimila Obie, Ku’ukoa Obie, Lucas Jackson, Laila and Lawrence Walker-Orcutt, Milan, Jeffery, and Evelyn James-Mathison. His nieces and nephews Michael Gabriel, Dominic Obie, Rainey and Kash McCovey, and many great nieces and nephews that he loved.

Anthony was from the villages of Sregon, Pecwan, Requa, and Tsewinaldin. He was a proud member of the Yurok Tribe. Anthony was born in Hoopa and started his life Down River until the 1964 flood destroyed his family’s home and they moved to Hoopa. Anthony attended and graduated Hoopa Valley High School. As a young adult he played football for the College of the Redwoods and played in many All-Indian Basketball and Softball tournaments; receiving many All-Indian trophies and other recognitions. Anthony is well known for his outstanding athletic talents in Basketball, Baseball, Football, Stick Games, and horseshoe games. He had many teammates that he considered family and would share stories about the “good o’l days.” He loved spending time with family, hunting, fishing, participating in Yurok and Hupa ceremonies, and attending church. He was also known for his charismatic personality, his contagious laugh, and his radiant smile.

Anthony spoke fondly of the logging days. He learned from his father, and while working for Hoopa Forest Industries, and other logging outfits. He hung his tin hat up after a serious injury in the woods and had to reinvent himself. He was very proud of his days at the Friendship House and his 14 years of sobriety. He enjoyed passing along what he learned about recovery and spirituality. During his career he worked with the developmentally delayed at Supportive Living Services in Del Norte County, as a Youth Advocate at Yurok Tribal Court, and as a Native American Spiritual Leader at High Desert State Prison in his final days.

Anthony passed away at their home, from a longstanding illness, in Susanville, California with his loving wife nearby. Although he passed too soon, he lived a full life and touched many hearts. As he makes his journey, he is forever loved by his family, friends, and teammates. The love that he had for his wife, kids, and grandchildren is what kept him alive.

Pallbearers: Michael Gabriel, Dominic Obie, Winterhawk Obie, Marcus Obie-Brown, David “Sonners” Hostler IV, Jeff Mathison-Walker, Mike Obie, and Kash McCovey.

Honorary Pallbearers: Lester Obie, Wally Obie, David O’ Neill, Greg Brown, Roger Sanderson, Ricky Sanderson, Marion “Inker” McCovey, Dickie Myers, Fred Timmons, Darryl Obie, Frank Ruiz, Larry Jordan, David Ruiz, Seth Ruiz, Clarence Hostler, Troy Aubrey, Junior Farmer, Joe James, Milton Stewart, Gary Obie Stewart, Boyd Ferris, Freddie Brown, and the SweatHogs.

Due to the untimely passing of Anthony, the family apologizes for names of family members, teammates, and friends we did not mention. He loved many and all.

He will make his journey to Hoopa from Susanville on November 22nd, 2022. His wake will be at St. Kateri Hall on Pine Creek Road on November 22nd at approximately 9pm. Services will be at St. Kateri Catholic Church at 11 am on November 23rd, 2022. Anthony will be buried at the Obie Cemetery at Sregon Village. After the burial, there will be a reception at St. Kateri Hall following the graveside burial. Flowers and food can be received at Kateri Hall. Jeanerette Jacups-Johnnie Jacups and Harold Jones, Sr. will officiate.

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

California state prisons transfer people with serious mental illness far more frequently than other prisoners — sometimes moving them dozens of times — a CalMatters’ analysis of newly acquired state data has found.

The findings underscore a CalMatters’ investigation from earlier this year which revealed the state’s practice of shuffling around mentally ill prisoners, which some advocates say can be disruptive and damaging to these vulnerable people.

The story focused on the case of Adam Collier, who had been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder and anxiety disorder, among other mental illnesses. Collier was serving a five-year sentence for exposing himself to women in public while high on meth. He was moved 39 times between 2016 and 2020 — bouncing among crisis units, state hospitals and seven different prisons — before he killed himself in Kern Valley State Prison in October 2020.

CalMatters’ analysis of data from the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation found that, from 2016 to 2021, California prisoners in “enhanced outpatient” mental health treatment were moved three times more often, on average, than other prisoners.

The data shows that incarcerated people in the system’s enhanced mental health program — which provides the highest level of outpatient mental health care for prisoners — averaged five moves during the time period, compared to an average 1.5 transfers for people in the general prison population.

One person, who was in and out of the mental health program, moved 75 times during the six-year period. The data does not identify any individuals.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” said Keramet Reiter, a criminology professor at the University of California, Irvine. “The seriously mentally ill people … bounce around a bit.”

CalMatters had requested the state’s transfers data on March 31; the department responded on Aug. 1 and Sept. 16. For its June story, CalMatters collected its own data about prison transfers for about a year, which generally mirrors the state’s records during the same timeframe.

“Transfers for an inmate are disruptive,” said Christopher Lisieski, the attorney representing Collier’s mother in a federal lawsuit against several prison employees. “Disrupting someone’s routine who’s severely mentally ill is additional stress and strain and can worsen mental health symptoms.”

Advocates, prisoners and family members contend that, in cases like Collier’s, a steady stream of transfers reflects a system that too often fails to adequately care for people in mental health crises. These incarcerated people might bounce between prisons and short-term crisis beds without ever stabilizing enough to get better, they say.

In California, mental health care in state prisons is designed so that incarcerated people transfer to appropriate levels of care as their needs change. Treatments range from outpatient therapy in the general prisoner population to long-term hospitalization in treatment facilities within the correctional system.

Prisoners needing the highest level of care could be sent to state hospitals, which are separate facilities that also house people who are not in the criminal justice system.

But the system doesn’t always work perfectly. In several investigations, the Inspector General has determined that people who need it sometimes aren’t referred to a higher level of care.

In other cases, experts say, multiple transfers can mean the system is working and people are getting the care they need.

Department spokesperson Dana Simas wrote in an emailed statement that the state transfers prisoners for a variety of reasons, including court hearings, medical treatment, mental health treatment, changes in security level, patient safety, staff conflicts, misconduct allegations or parole.

In California, prison mental health treatment policies are governed by a federal class-action lawsuit — known as Coleman — on behalf of prisoners with serious mental illness.

In 1995, a federal court ruled that the department was not providing adequate mental health care to prisoners. The court eventually approved the Corrections Department’s plan for providing mental health care and appointed a special master to monitor and report on the state’s compliance.

“The department works closely with the Coleman special master and others on these matters, and always strives for what is in the best interest of the patient’s individual needs,” Simas wrote in an email to CalMatters.

Special master Matthew A. Lopes Jr. did not respond to CalMatters’ request for comment.

In Collier’s case, he moved so frequently that his mother, Susan Ottele of McMinnville, Ore., started “every single, solitary day” checking online to see which prison was holding Collier and why.

When the pandemic hit, the prisons went on lockdown, and Collier sat inside Kern Valley State Prison for seven months. It was his longest stay at any prison since 2016.

“With all these transfers, I’m fucking dizzy,” Collier wrote in a letter to Ottele in March 2020. Months later, at age 43, Collier killed himself.

The Office of the Inspector General investigated Collier’s suicide and found that the department had “poorly handled” Collier’s case. The inspector general’s March 2021 report described an array of internal problems, including clinicians improperly delaying Collier’s referral to a higher level of care and failing to adequately document his history of self-harm.

Earlier this year, Ottele filed a wrongful death complaint in federal court, alleging that prison guards failed to monitor her son and acted with deliberate indifference.

In court documents, state attorneys deny these claims, saying the guards were not aware of Collier’s history of suicide attempts. The Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation declined to comment on the lawsuit, citing pending litigation. Lisieski, Ottele’s attorney, said the case likely won’t be resolved for years.

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CalMatters.org is a nonprofit, nonpartisan media venture explaining California policies and politics.

The Outpost woke up (late) to emails from panicked residents all across the east side of town, ranging roughly from H Street to Cooper Gulch. Why oh why does our home have no water? these people wondered.

Well, happily, Brian Gerving, the city of Eureka’s public works director, was up with or indeed probably well before the sun, and he was already read in on the situation. Gerving texted:

There was a main break on a large line on 3rd Street between L and M. That large of a break makes it hard for the system upstream to keep up, so a lot of people lost pressure. It’s shut down now and folks should see pressure starting to build back.

… and he gave us a link to photos, too. There you have it, east siders! You should be wet again soon.

Pandemics

• COVID cases worldwide: 636 million (about 8% of global population); deaths: 6.6 million (about 1% of cases)
• 1918 Spanish flu cases worldwide: 500 million (about 33% of the global population at the time); deaths: 50 million (about 10% of cases)

Births and deaths

• 1950: 92 million births, 14.4 million deaths (15%)
• 2016: 141 million births, 4.2 million deaths (3%)

Terrorism

• 2007-2016: 159,000 deaths by terrorism (three times that of previous ten year). By far the majority in Iraq, Syria, Afghanistan, Nigeria and Pakistan.
• Terrorism deaths in “first world” countries: Less than 1,500 (about 1%)

Overall, terrorism accounts for about 0.05% deaths overall.

Flying risks

• 2016: 40 million commercial passenger flights, of which 10 crashed. (0.000025%)

Energy

Worldwide, coal + oil + gas accounts for 87% energy production

Biological sex

99.99% of babies fit into a binary category: males make (or have the potential to make) small mobile gametes (sperm); females have (or have the potential to make) larger, immobile gametes (eggs).

Goldbach conjecture

Every even number greater than 2 is the sum of two primes. Prove it and the $1 million Clay Prize is yours.

Bodily rejuvenation

Your body is constantly replacing itself, but at different rates.

• Epidermis (outer skin cells): every 2-4 weeks
• Women’s hair: every 6 years
• Men’s hair: every 3 years
• Liver cells: Replaced 150-500 days
• Stomach and intestines: Cells lining these organs only last up to 5 days
• Bones: 10 years
• Cerebral cortex (memory, thought, language, attention, consciousness): Never

Local SLR

According to Aldaron Laird (2013), our local sea level rise is greater than anywhere else in California, Since 1977, SLR at the North Spit has been 4.74 mm/year, or 18.6 inches per century.

Farthest human-made object

Voyager 1 (launched August 20, 1977): 14.8 million miles from Earth (22 hours for radio signals to travel between Earth and the spacecraft). 

Countries

• Fully recognized members of the United Nations: 193
• Permanent UN “observers”: 2 (Palestine and Vatican) 

Also: Kosovo (recognized by 98 UN members) and Taiwan (recognized by 15 UN members)

GOU

• Number of consecutive Sunday “Growing Old Ungracefully” posts: 410

Last Sunday evening, we were sitting in the living room when we got word that there had been an explosion on Istiklal Avenue over on the European side of the city.

My wife’s reaction summed up our feelings perfectly: “Not again.”

We live on the Asian side, far from the explosion. Yet outside we could hear sirens everywhere. An armored vehicle sat on the overpass outside the window, and the highway below, normally placid on a Sunday evening, was jammed with cars trying to access the tunnel. The internet was working, so we were able to get the latest news, but social media had been blocked – at least from our side. All told, six dead, more than 50 wounded.

A few days passed. For much of the world the story quickly became yesterday’s news, all but disappearing from the headlines and feeds. Meanwhile, I thought about our decidedly cynical and tired reaction to the latest episode of violence to befall our great city. It was troubling, to be sure, but what can you do?

Sure, you do have to offer prayers for the families of the victims. As for the investigation: Within hours of the explosion, police arrested a woman, a Syrian national, with reported backing and ties from a Kurdish terrorist group. The woman was reportedly captured on CCTV at the site of the bombing, and later traced by some 1,200 security cameras to a hideout in one of the neighborhoods on the city’s outskirts. More arrests are promised.

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To be frank, I have grown bored of it all: terror, war, violence, memorials and aftermaths. Judging from the faces of friends, colleagues, family members, I am not alone.

Why shouldn’t we be fed up? Looking over the letters I have written over the past decade, one could find a collection of “Terror Tales,” a Poe-sounding title if there ever was. An attack on Dolmabahçe Palace, where my wife works, back in November 2015 (fortunately only one policeman was injured in that otherwise foiled attack. Then the late 2016 bombing near Beşiktaş football stadium that killed nearly 40 people, 150 injured. And let us not forget the failed military coup that dark Friday, 15 July 2016, when in the night tanks and soldiers occupied the same bridge I now take to work every morning.

Let us not forget the bigger picture stories, like the war in Syria and now the war up the road in Ukraine, both of which I have written back home about. War and terror, violence and its aftermath. At one point, in early 2016, government officials here, with a grim outlook, told citizens that they would have to, “Learn to live with terror.”

Well, we have. The thing that gets you really is the aftermath, the never-ending aftermath. Living in constant aftermath is akin to bathing in blood. It sticks to your skin after a while.

The thing is, daily life here in Istanbul isn’t like that at all, the way some people in the West imagine. When these incidents occur, caring friends and family back in America and elsewhere send urgent messages, are you OK? And I have to remind them that we live in a city as big as, if not bigger than New York, with the same majestic sweep and vast, discursive network of neighborhoods, districts and boroughs.

Perhaps surprisingly, one seldom feels anything like danger, but rather energy. It’s a vibrant city. Other than the crowds, which can be especially tiresome on the metros and buses, the soul-crushing traffic on the bridges, life in Istanbul is as safe as any city its size can be – in fact, safer than most American cities, this writer posits. Each morning, I walk at dawn through the still lamp-lit streets of Kadıköy, the old neighborhood just waking up, the smell of fresh bread coming from the bakeries, the street cleaners out hosing off the sidewalks in front of the markets, and I am never molested by anyone.

True, these are streets I know very well, having lived in Kadıköy from the time of my first arrival. I know its alleys and passageways, its niches and cornices, as well as some of the locals – in fact, I consider myself a local by now, and several of the local tradespeople and not a few barkeeps would vouch for me. Of course, my situation has changed. My wife and I worry about our son, who will turn 3 next month. Like all parents, we worry about him.

In the hours after last Sunday’s explosion, with sirens still whirring in all directions, the streets crammed with cars, we took Leo out for a walk because, with a toddler’s insistence, he demanded it.

Outside, the November evening was windy but not cold. Beneath the overpass, a sea of cars were jammed on the highway going towards the undersea tunnel to the European side. The eastbound side was virtually deserted, as the highway usually is on Sunday evenings. Looking at all the cars far below, I noted aloud, “It’s really surreal. I mean, it’s Sunday …”

Leo whirled around, “Daddy, it’s Sunday!” he said, proudly. We started: he had never spoken the word before. “What day is it?” I asked. “It’s Sunday!” he said again, laughing. Well, at least we’ll always remember when he learned the word “Sunday.”

The following day in class, my students were not blessed with such childish obliviousness. The news hit them hard. “Angry,” “Shocked,” “Upset.” These were the words they used to describe their reactions. Like me, most of them had been at home resting when the explosion occurred the evening before.

As I said, my own reaction was one of resignation, of weariness, even boredom. Perhaps that is a sign of getting older; the battle scars have long since hardened. One becomes used to such things, and reasons: well, one has to expect –

Still, I found myself touching wood. After all, the Saturday before I’d been thinking, “It’s been so long since we’ve been to Taksim … It would be nice to browse the bookshops on Istiklal, sit at a streetside café over a beer and watch all the crowds pass.” Instead, my wife and I had taken Leo to nearby Moda, and passed a pleasant afternoon at the park and enjoyed big tasty burgers at a fashionable seaside café.

As readers know, the very next day, the explosion had rocked Istiklal. Of course even if we had gone there on Saturday, we would have been safe, but still … You realize how close you came, that such things maybe are just matter of chance. Those six people who were killed, and the 53 injured, who went to Istiklal last Sunday did not plan what happened to them either. Wrong place, wrong time. So in these times, you do get a sense of hanging by a thread– but when you think about it, don’t we always?

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This past Tuesday afternoon, I went to Istiklal Avenue to have a look at the scene myself. As was reported, the busy avenue had by and large returned to normal, with the exception of a procession of the red Turkish flags lined up in two columns all the way down the busy thoroughfare. It was the same busy, vibrant avenue whose corridors and backways I’ve traveled so many times over the years. It felt good to be back, honestly, as it always does: in the heart of the great city.

At the site of the explosion, scores of people were gathered, many taking photos and placing flowers at the spot. Photos of the dead were also on display. Police could be seen nearby and up and down the street, but that is not so unusual in this part of the city. Over the years demonstrations and protests of all kinds have been held here near Taksim Square and on Istiklal Caddesi because of the location’s visual iconography and historical significance. For many, this past week’s tragedy is sadly just the latest one.

And yet we have to move on. Maybe that’s why so many, including myself, made a point of going to the site of the explosion. Not just to honor the dead, but the living as well, and to take back our city, the city we call home.

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James Tressler, a former Lost Coast resident, is a writer and teacher living in Istanbul.

Daniel Richard Estevo passed away peacefully at Timber Ridge Care Facility on November 5, 2022 at the age of 79. Dan was a lifelong resident of Eureka.

Dan was the first child of Manuel and Louise Estevo, born in Eureka on May 27, 1943. His early years were on the family dairy ranch in Elk River and they later moved to Cutten.

Dan attended St. Bernard’s High School, graduating in 1961. About that time the Berlin Crisis was heating up and Dan enlisted in the army. He was assigned to Fort Bliss, Texas with Battery C, 7th Missile Battalion. The battalion was assigned to Korea to keep the enemy from penetrating the DMZ zone. After an honorable discharge, Dan returned to Eureka and married his wife of 56 years, Janis Wonderley, whom he has known since childhood.

Dan and Janis were avid water-skiers; Dan coached several youth sports teams and taught his sons to fish. He enjoyed a wonderful career at PG&E where he worked for over 40 years. He retired in 2009 and pursued his other hobbies, like working on his classic car and tending his vegetable garden in Myers Flat.

Dan was preceded in death by his parents Manuel and Louise Estevo and beloved dog Rubybella. He is survived by his wife Janis, his sons in Ukiah: Richard and wife Jenniffer; Ryan and wife Dana; granddaughter Lyla Estevo. Sister Marie and Husband Fred Taylor; nieces and nephews Troy Taylor, Terri Taylor in McKinleyville; Rick Wonderely of Redding; Cynthia Wonderely of Desert Hot Springs and sister-in-law Pamela Esparza of Dallas, Oregon.

Per Dan’s request no funeral services are planned at this time.

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

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A group of more than a dozen horses (well, a couple were actually mules) and their riders paraded through Old Town on Saturday afternoon, collecting food from various local businesses for the annual Cowboy Canned Food Convoy — a partnership between the The Redwood Unit of Backcountry Horsemen of California (BCHC), Food for People and the Food Bank for Humboldt County. 

Starting at the parking lot on First and D Streets, the cowboys and horses, along with helpers from Cub Scout Pack 4047, stopped at businesses — including Sailor’s Grave Tattoo, Chapala Cafe, Good Relations, Ramone’s, Ecocann Dispensary, Old Town Coffee & Chocolates, Eureka Books, Belle Starr, and Los Bagels — where they collected canned goods from the food-drive boxes the business had on display and placed them in their saddlebags. Many folks stood on the curb or sat in chairs to watch the convoy go by. 

The group along the way for a photo-op at the Carson Mansion before finishing their route, which eventually took them to the food’s drop-off location at Food For People.  Thank you, cowboys! 

If you’re looking to donate food, collection barrels will still be available at many local businesses throughout the holiday season. You can find a full list of locations on the Food for People website. 

Scroll down for more photos!