A Golf Farewell at Stevinson Ranch
Among the victims of the 2015 drought is Stevinson Ranch Golf Course in northwestern Merced County, California. Local media reported the owners have agricultural interests nearby and those interests, combined with a general decline in the number of golf rounds at the course, forced a business decision to divert water from the fairways to farm fields.
Ever since the decision to close Stevinson was made, a lot of golfers are playing one last round at a memorable and challenging course.
Impressive course
I first played Stevinson in 2006 in a charity tournament shortly after moving to the community.I remember being impressed with the course but frustrated that I had to travel over a half-hour from downtown Merced over country roads just to find it.
Actually, the distance was a minor nuisance.The fact was that the course intimidated me.It was tough and I needed more time to develop my game.I stayed away for the next eight years in favor of courses that were easier to get to and not nearly as daunting.
About a year ago, a golf buddy of mine suggested we go out there again.My game had improved over the years and I found the course to be formidable and maybe even better than I had remembered the first time.We played there twice in 2014 and we were set to play again in 2015 when we read reports that the course would close in July.
Closing in July
Recently, we headed out to Stevinson for our last round.I brought my camera along.We had an early tee-off slot and that allowed us a little more time to take in the sights of the Central Valley countryside.Before long, the irrigation will be shut off.I wanted to enjoy this course in its bright green against a clear blue sky on a cool late spring morning.The weather cooperated.
Every hole on this course has a name, but I never took the time to connect these names with their respective piece of the landscape.Maybe if I had played the course more frequently, I would have become familiar with the names.Thanks to the score card saved after the round, I can refer back to each hole by name.
I took a photograph at what was once my nemesis.A pond on the number four hole goes by an ironic name of Eden.I’m sure the pond at Eden has captured many golfers’ first shots over the years.The pond water was gone the day we played.It’s just a dry bed of rough.It’s still a hazard, but it seemed less intimidating without the water.
Number six is aptly titled Risk & Hope.My approach shot landed in one of several sand traps that seem to circle the putting green.
Risk & Hope lived up to its name on this final round.With about one-hundred yards to the green, I took out my trusty seven-iron.I thought the risk was possibly overshooting the green.I hoped to land close to flag.I ended up in a bunker in front of the green. I’ve been in those traps before, but I didn’t seem to mind it as much this time around.
I’ve always admired an old tree stump that remains near an irrigation creek between holes ten (named Long) and eleven (named Wetland).I get the feeling that stump was there long before Stevinson became a golf course.I suspect it will remain there in the years to come.
I got a par at both par threes on the back nine: number twelve (Devil’s Pot) and sixteen (Hawk Perch).I also made par on the par four number fourteen (Alps).I ended the par five number eighteen (Home Cape) going one over with a six.I turned around and took one last picture of the cart path that brought us to the end of the line.
Picture- Stevinson 18- looking backcaption:Stevinson Ranch Golf Club.Photo by Steve Newvine
Keeping score
It’s been a rare opportunity for a guy who spent over twenty years trying to figure out the game of golf to now have the chance to play every week.I’m thankful that my game has improved to a point where I no longer use the phrase, “I’m having so much fun, why bother keeping score?”I keep score and keep trying to improve.There’s a long way to go, but I’ve never enjoyed the game more than I do right now.I’m grateful to a couple of golfing buddies who have accompanied me from time to time on some of the better courses in the Central Valley.
Stevinson Ranch scared me the first time I played there in 2006.I have by no means tamed this venue.But I have given the course my respect as it has brought out the best in me as far as the game of golf is concerned.
The blessing of golf
Golf has always been about blessings.I’m in reasonably good health to play.I can afford it as long as I keep an eye on discounted green fees and decide that I don’t need the latest club available at the sporting goods store.I’m blessed to be able to play this game.I’m blessed to enjoy it as much as I do.I’m blessed every time I get to walk outdoors and view the outstanding scenery surrounding many California courses.I’ve also been honored to meet some genuinely nice people on the fairway and in the clubhouse.
To the staff that kept this course up to an exceptionally high standard especially in these past two years, thank you for your care and customer service.
To the owners who made what was probably a very difficult business decision, thank you for hanging in there so long.
To everyone connected with Stevinson Ranch Golf Club, it’s been a pleasure sharing my passion for the game on those beautiful fairways, challenging bunkers, and demanding putting greens.
I have taken memories from playing there that will last me the rest of my life.I will miss it deeply.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
Lunch, Laughs, and Letterman
I don’t stay up to watch his show anymore, and I haven’t been a regular viewer in several years.I’m catching up on these final shows via CBS.com.The whole farewell thing with Dave is reminiscent of what I went through twenty-three years ago when Johnny Carson left the Tonight Show after nearly thirty years as host. Toward the end of that historic run in 1992, it seemed to me that every broadcast of Carson’s was special.
While I’m a fan of Dave’s, I had a much deeper sense of generational change when Johnny retired.
But Dave’s departure from nightly television reminds me of how his career has intermingled with my adult life.
My wife and I sat in the audience of his short-lived morning talk show in 1980.We were on our honeymoon as my then television station bosses arranged for a special tour of the studios and tickets to this new live morning talk show.
The show was funny, the host was quirky, and practically no one watched it.After the live broadcast, Dave came up into the audience and sat in front of us to record some promotional announcements for upcoming shows.
We saw those promos when we returned and I believe it’s still on an old broadcast video tape now buried in a pile of stuff that has traveled with me over the years.
Dave’s morning show went off the air after only a few months in 1980.A year-and-a-half later, he began Late Night with David Letterman.The hour-long talk show followed the Tonight Show Starring, Johnny Carson.Thanks to our VHS tape recorder, I was a regular viewer.
When Johnny left the Tonight Show in 1992, Dave’s fans were disappointed that he was not offered the job to replace Carson.Dave remained with the Late Night program for another year until his contract expired and CBS hired him to take on Jay Leno in a true battle for late night television dominance.
Jay won that battle, but it seemed to me that while Leno had bigger audience numbers, Dave had the better of the two shows.
In the late 1990s into the first few years of the 2000s, a good friend of mine would join me in midtown Manhattan once a year for an afternoon in the city followed by being in the audience for a taping of either Late Show with David Letterman or Late Night with Conan O’Brien.Both were great shows, but I’m especially fond of the two times I saw Dave’s show from the audience inside the Ed Sullivan Theater.
One time was in the Christmas season.Tom Brokaw was one of the guests.Being a former newsman, Brokaw was a guest I always enjoyed.He was clearly one of Dave’s favorite guests.
Another time was in the summer when the movie Moulin Rouge came out.Actor Ewan McGregor was one of the guests.At that time, I never heard of the guy.The musical guest that night was Moby and I recall being impressed at how quickly the crew could set up the stage during the commercial break right before he took to the stage.Thanks to Google, I now have learned the day of that show was June 21, 2001.
Those trips to New York City to meet my friend for a day of lunch, laughs, and late night show tapings were quite a test of endurance for me.I would get up around four AM, and then drive about six hours to a train station in Tarrytown, New York.
Following about an hour of travel on the rails, I’d emerge from Grand Central Station and walk to an agreed upon destination to meet up with my buddy.After a quick lunch, we’d do what I call the “poor man’s” tour of the New York City by taking in such iconic locations as the Dakota apartment complex where John Lennon lived and died, the restaurant where exterior scenes were shot in the television series Seinfeld, and my favorite venue: inside 30 Rockefeller Plaza where such iconic shows as Saturday Night Live are produced.
We’d have to get in line for the Letterman taping around 3:30, and after being moved from a gathering area in a building across the side entrance to the Ed Sullivan Theater, we’d take our seats inside and were coached as to how to behave while in the audience of a national television show.We were ready for a brief audience welcome by Dave and then the magic that is live-on-tape television was underway.
Live-on-tape means the show is performed as though it was being done live with no stops of the recording machines unless a major problem occurs.
When the taping was finished around 6:30, my friend and I would shake hands and depart:I would head to Grand Central while he headed to Penn Station to catch our respective trains.Barring any train delays, I’d get to my car in Tarrytown around 8:00 PM, and then head on back to either a hotel or a relative’s home for a well-appreciated good night’s sleep.
We did those trips annually for about four years, and then my friend moved to the west coast.My wife and I followed with our own west coast adventure a few years later.
While I’ve been to Hollywood to see a couple of television shows in production, I still have a longing for the days when I embarked on an annual endurance test to travel several hours to see David Letterman’s show
David Letterman began his late night television career just a couple of months prior to my becoming a father.He leaves television as I enjoy the privileges of being a grandparent.I remember watching that very first show on CBS in 1993.
I remember the night Johnny Carson did a walk-on to hand him the Top Ten list and symbolically “hand off” the late night throne- without saying a word.
I remember the broadcast a week after 9-11 and how in some satisfying way, he helped bring back some normalcy.
I remember the night he returned from heart surgery and nearly cried as he thanked his medical professionals that were brought on stage.
Thirty-three years have passed.
Thank you David Letterman, for entertaining me through fatherhood and for keeping the laughs coming as I became a grandfather.
You deserve to retire with all the accolades and all the memories.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
Life through Vinyl
We have the good people at Parade magazine to thank for telling readers that April 18 is National Record Store Day. Those seeking to make money from the music business have designated this day to bring attention to the resurgence of vinyl records. Many popular music artists are releasing special songs on vinyl . Once thought lost forever with the advent of compact discs and eventually digital music delivery, vinyl is enjoying sort of a comeback among those who prefer their music played with a needle and a turntable.
I made the move to compact discs about ten years after that format started back in the 1980s. But I’ve always held on to a few vinyl records because they bring back memories of my younger years when it was the best way to listen to music on your own terms.
The Monkees
The very first record I owned was this one from the Monkees. There was a time when I could tell you the exact order of songs on that album. I actually got both the first and second Monkees albums on the same day (my birthday), but I opened and played this one first. I would eventually acquire every record the group released in their short career, which lasted two years (the length of their television series) with several reunions over the past few decades.
Elvis Presley, the NBC-TV Special Soundtrack
While the Monkees represent the first music I would actually own, it was Elvis Presley who would instill my appreciation for popular music. I watched his NBC television special in late 1968 and became a fan instantly. I bought it from the closest thing we had to a music store in my hometown: a rack of records at a dry goods store. The soundtrack album propelled him into the third and final phase of his performing career, eventually clearing the way for his iconic jumpsuits and the hard living lifestyle that many suggest ended his life way too early at the age of forty-two in 1977. It begins with the song Trouble (“you lookin for trouble, you came to the right place…”) that he first popularized in the movie Kid Galahad. It ends with the inspiring If I Can Dream. I just found out this spring that If I Can Dream is my daughter Colleen’s favorite Elvis song. Good choice. The song has been covered over the years by such artists as Barry Manilow and Della Reese, but Elvis made it his own.
Goodyear/Columbia Great Songs of Christmas
I experience most of the holiday seasons through the lens of Christmas music. The Goodyear Tire company, through an arrangement with Columbia Records, released a compilation album of holiday music annually in the 1960s and 1970s. My mom bought this one from the local Goodyear dealer in hometown (Sylvester Burkhart’s Garage on Main Street in Port Leyden). This particular album has the distinction of being the first album my mother purchased when our family bought a record player in the early 1960s. I connect right back to the family living room in my hometown when I play this album.
These are three of the long playing albums that helped define my life in vinyl. We always had records playing in the house. My fascination with recorded music fed a desire to work as a disc jockey for a few years while I was in college. To this day, I occasionally put on an old vinyl record and listen to it with all the scratches that come from playing them over and over when I was much younger.
Long playing albums from my era generally had about ten to twelve songs, split between the two sides. Some record players allowed you to stack up to six so that the music could continue for well over an hour.
New York, New York by Frank Sinatra
I can’t forget the singles: the forty-five RPM (revolutions per minute) discs that so many of us from that generation had. I still have mine, but I don’t play them as much as the LPs (long-playing) albums that spun at thirty-three-and-a-third RPM. My friends and I would play them in the jukebox at the Leyden Elm diner (better known as Hazel’s) in my hometown.
But this one forty-five has special meaning to me. It’s Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York. It was recorded in 1980 and remained Sinatra’s signature show stopper in the remaining years of his public performances. It was also the last brand new single I ever bought from a music store. It would take a few more years before I’d consider myself a Sinatra fan, but there’s no doubt this single was the starting point.
And if that’s not enough to drive home how significant this record is to me, I can add that it was released in the same year I got married. A husband better not forget the year he got married. I have this single to remind me.
Records have a way of doing that for me. They bring back a memory of when I first received a particular album or single, they connect me to my hometown, and they help me remember important times in my life.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
For more on Record Store Day, go to www.recordstoreday.com
Completing the Apollo 13 Circle in Colorado
April 11 is the forty-fifth anniversary of the Apollo 13 mission to the moon. Apollo 13 was the mission that never landed on the lunar surface, but it became a legendary story of a true test of courage and ingenuity from the US space program. I had the recent good fortune to visit family living in Colorado. As I was preparing to leave at the Denver Airport, I encountered a statute that in many ways has completed a circle I started with Apollo 13 some forty-plus years ago.
The statue is of Apollo 13 astronaut Jack Swigert. The bronze cast shows Swigert in his astronaut suit. The plaque refers to Swigert as “Astronaut and Congressman Elect.” He was about to begin his first elected term in the US House of Representatives when he died from cancer in the early 1980s. I asked a fellow Californian who was viewing the statue with me to take this picture.
In my youth, I followed the space program with great interest. As a young boy, I was in front of the television set many times for rocket launches. My family circled around the set in July of 1969 when Apollo 11 landed on the moon.
I was a hardened space fan, but even I was becoming disinterested in moon landings after the second one (Apollo 12). I recall seeing Apollo 13 lift off on April 11, 1970, but my life was beginning to be occupied with all the things teenagers encounter.
My interest level changed two days later when we learned there was a problem aboard Apollo 13. News reporters on television tried to explain something about an explosion aboard the spacecraft, and how the astronauts were moved to the lunar module as plans were made to bring them back to Earth. I recall feeling concerned, but confident that the crew would make it home safely.
The now familiar story ends with a successful return to Earth for the three astronauts.
Commander Jim Lovell wrote a book called Lost Moon about the mission. Fred Haise worked in private industry after retiring from NASA. Jack Swigert lived in Colorado and was elected to the US House of Representatives. He died before taking office in 1982.
I never realized just how serious the effort to return the astronauts to Earth was until many years later when I started reporting on the space program as a television reporter for WAAY in Huntsville, Alabama. NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center was in Huntsville, so anything about the space program was a local news story in northern Alabama. During my short time in Huntsville in the early 1980s, I learned more about how dangerous the Apollo 13 mission was as the ground crew worked the problem to bring the crew home safely.
A few years later, the Ron Howard film Apollo 13 introduced a new generation to the story behind the story of that mission. For many years, watching the movie was a family tradition in my house. During the time when I was working as an adjunct college lecturer, I used clips from the movie to demonstrate leadership principles. The movie remains one of my all-time favorites.
I met astronauts Jim Lovell and Fred Haise in 1996 when both appeared at a business conference I was attending. I was told at that event that this was the first time the two appeared together in public since the end of the mission.
Seeing the statue of Jack Swigert in Denver brought back many of those memories. From childhood passing on through my teen years, I experienced the excitement of the space program transition to a less intense interest as I grew older. I saw that passing interest reinvigorate as a journalist working in a town where space exploration defined the community, I re-lived, if only for a few moments, the thrill of reporting on the first three Space Shuttle missions. As a slightly bit older adult, I reconnected with my passion for the space program thanks to the movie Apollo 13 and the opportunity to meet the two surviving members of the crew.
And now a bronze statue of the astronaut who survived that ordeal only to be taken much too early brings it back full circle.
Apollo 13 showed us that bravery isn’t just about knowing the risks and acting anyway. The forty-fifth anniversary of that historic mission gives all of us an opportunity to spend a few moments reflecting on the successes we have experienced and the obstacles we have overcome.
Apollo 13 has also shown us that leadership comes in all shapes and sizes. From the crew’s courage under fire, to the steady seriousness demonstrated by flight director Gene Kranz , to the short-sleeved NASA technicians who offered solutions that kept the astronauts alive as the spaceship was being brought back home, Apollo 13 has proven the very best we all can do by working together.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced. He worked as a Space and Science reporter for WAAY-TV in Huntsville, Alabama from 1980 to 1982.
Welcome to the World Grandson
My wife and I recently became grandparents. Our grandson came into this world surrounded with a lot of love. For the first time in my life, I’m a grandpa. The best assessment I’ve ever read of how a child can change a person comes from that expert on family relationships: Alice Mitchell. She’s the mom of comic strip character Dennis the Menace.
Her view on how grandfather’s change comes in a recent cartoon where we see Dennis playing with his dad. Dennis’ grandfather remarks how amazing it is that a boy can make a man out of his father. Alice responds by saying, “And a boy out of his grandfather.”
I’d like to offer my special welcome, along with some grandfatherly observations, to my grandson. Some of my reflections come from experiences with my two grandfathers. Most of it comes from experiencing firsthand what it’s like to be a grandchild.
Welcome to the world little boy.
This is Earth grandson. It’s a unique spot, and now it’s a special place because you are here.
You came into this spot two months early, but you put up with all the tubes and monitors that helped make you stronger. You also had the help of some wonderful medical professionals who have made it their life’s work to help little folks like you. They helped you until you were well enough to leave the hospital and start living at home.
You have two wonderful parents. I know one of them real well. Your Mom was a bundle of joy, someone who enjoys an adventure, and someone who truly loves her family. You already know this, but she’s a great Mom. Dad is a good guy too. I’ve known him about ten years now and I know he’s the real deal. You are in excellent hands.
Someday, I hope your parents will take you to the family reunion on your grandma Newvine’s side of the family. They take lots of pictures throughout the reunion day, but the part I like is after the midday meal when they line up each generation of relatives for a special set of group photos. You may not think much of it at first, but my experience has been you’ll grow to appreciate those generation photographs in later years.
Someday, you might visit my hometown.
If you see it in the summer, you’ll enjoy county fairs, weekend picnics, and extended family in practically every surrounding village. If you visit in the winter, be prepared to see lots of snow. You can take part in downhill and cross-country skiing, ride a snowmobile, and build up your muscles when someone hands you a snow shovel after a big storm.
As you get to know me, you’ll find I like a lot of things young people enjoy. I keep a kite in the garage and know a perfect open field near our house where we can fly it on a breezy spring day.
When you get older, I’ll take you to a driving range where we can hit a bucket of golf balls. On cold days, we can stay inside and put together a jigsaw puzzle.
When I was about ten years old, my Grandpa on my mom’s side of the family took me and a load of scrap metal to a junkyard. The people at the junkyard weighed the car before and after we unloaded the cargo. My Grandpa was paid for the scrap metal by the pound. Upon leaving the junkyard, he took me out for breakfast.
It’s funny how I still remember that day as though it happened a week ago. I want to do something like that with you.
My other grandfather lived down the street from my house. He had hands that seemed as big as a coffee pot and as tough as a claw hammer, but he was kind and gentle, and had a smile that no one forgot. He lived to his mid-nineties and brought a lot of joy to a lot of people. I’m hoping for a nice long life too, not only for you but for me. I want to spend a lot of time with you, my grandson.
I promise you that I’ll try to help create memories for you of a grandfather who won’t take you or anyone else for granted.
I’ve had two pretty good role models in my grandfathers.
We’ll have a lot of fun.
Welcome to this world grandson.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
On the 99- The Palm Meets the Pine
WHERE THE PALM MEETS THE PINE PHOTO BY STEVE NEWVINE
There’s a California landmark that just about anyone who has travelled from Merced to Fresno on highway 99 has seen countless times: most of the time experiencing a view lasting but a millisecond. I’m talking about the median section of the highway south of Madera: where the palm meets the pine.
I’ve driven by it hundreds of times in my eleven years as a Californian. But it was only in recent months that someone called my attention to it.
Symbolism cannot be mistaken
The palm and pine trees look out of place between the two sections of the highway. They tower above the standard issue shrubs that are common in most of the highway’s medians.
But their symbolism cannot be mistaken. The pine tree is north, representing Northern California. The palm tree is south, representing Southern California.
It was established many years ago that the geographic center of the state is in North Fork to the east of highway 99 in Madera County. But to see North Fork, you’ll need to get off the highway and head toward the mountains.
The center of the state that most of the public will likely view is right along highway 99. To be more exact, you’ll find it between the north and southbound lanes in the median south of the city of Madera.
The pine and palm trees represent a symbolic separation between Southern California and Northern California.
where the palm meets the pine Photo by Steve newvine
No one is quite sure how the trees were first established at that site. Web blogger Duane Hall researched the topic a few years ago and lamented the scarcity of definitive history about it by writing,
“There is an abysmal lack of information on the birth of the palm and the pine.”
It’s believed the original trees were planted in the 1920s to represent the midpoint of the state between the Mexico and Oregon borders. In the 1980s, the state’s transportation planning agency CalTrans rolled out plans to bring the highway up to new standards. These plans called for the destruction of the trees. There was a public outcry, CalTrans redrew the plans, and the trees remained.
That is until 2005 when a storm toppled the pine tree. It was replaced in 2007. The median is under control of CalTrans and it appears the palm and the pine will remain there under the care of the transportation agency for years to come.
The trees may not be entrenched in popular culture, but the phrase “where the palm meets the pine” has been immortalized in a country song performed by singer/songwriter Danny O’Keefe. O’Keefe wrote a number of country tunes in the 1970s including a song Elvis Presley recorded called Good Time Charlie’s Got the Blues.
Even in a country song
In the song In Northern California (Where the Palm Tree Meets the Pine) from the album American Roulette, O’Keefe opines about a relationship between an older woman and a much younger man:
She'd thrown away her crutches But I knew that I'd need mine In Northern California Where the palm tree meets the pine
You can see the two trees just south of Avenue 11 in Madera County on highway 99.
Unfortunately, there is no way for anyone to legally stop, get out of the car, and take a closer look at this site. And that seems to be a missed opportunity. One can imagine cars stopping off the highway, people having their picture taken in front of the trees, and families making memories of the Central Valley of the Golden State.
But highway extras such as scenic overlooks and rest stops cost money. No one is calling out for anything such as this, so it appears the two trees will remain just one of those quirky things people see while driving along highway 99.
Until someone comes up with a plan that might allow the public to safely stop and view the trees while absorbing the symbolism of the palm meeting the pine, we’ll continue to see the natural monument to California’s geographic center right where it is: at 65 miles per hour.
Don’t blink.
To listen to the song In Northern California (Where the Palm Tree Meets the Pine)
Steve Newvine lives in Merced and travels up and down highway 99.
His book 9 From 99 takes the reader on a road trip from Stockton to Bakersfield along the highway.
For blogger Duane Hall’s essay on the Madera landmark, go to: http://duanehallca.blogspot.com/2010/02/where-palm-meets-pine.html
Target Renovation Will Make Merced a Five-StarbucksTown
Photo by steve Newvine
Merced has been called a lot of things by a lot of people. Some names have been positive, some names have been negative. In my latest book, I affectionately and truthfully call Merced my adopted hometown.
But by this spring, we may call our city a five-Starbucks town
That’s because the Target store near Merced Mall will add the coffee retailer as part of a renovation project. For those of you familiar with the layout of the Merced store, Starbucks will be located where the photo department currently is housed. The photo department will be scaled down to a self-service kiosk.
The express checkouts near that location will be moved to clear additional space for the Starbucks. You will not miss it when you enter the store from the south side, the side facing Sears. The news was given to me as I checked out recently, and I confirmed it with the manager on duty. Target will house Starbucks in a matter of weeks. This new Starbucks means that by spring, lovers of that particular brand of coffee will have a total of five locations from which to choose.
The other locations are:
- 425 West Main Street
- 580 West Olive Avenue
- 500 Carol Avenue
- 779 East Yosemite Avenue
Starbucks coffee
Adding a specialty retailer such as Starbucks inside an existing retailer is nothing new in business. The built-in traffic flow makes a lot of sense for both companies to come to terms on making that section of the retail space more profitable. Customers will likely enjoy the added convenience of a Starbucks inside Target. There’s something to be said about how the number and location of a Starbucks serves as an index for community growth and prosperity. Many believe the worst of the recession is now behind us, so it may make sense for some retailers to consider expanding their businesses.
In many communities, Starbucks is seen as sort of a barometer of business success. If business is doing well, they hire more people; with more people working, the likelihood of spending money on luxury items such as four-dollar specialty coffee increases.
And there may be a few companies who have been on the fence in terms of whether they should consider taking a next step in growing the business. Reasonable questions such as: is the worst of this recession really over, and will the economy stay on track long term, are likely to be raised. The fifth Starbucks coming to Merced may not be enough to get some business owners off the fence in terms of expanding and hiring.
But it may be just the right thing to bring about some optimism for the second half of this decade. Merced County still lingers among the highest in the state unemployment figures. The community could use a boost, and we’re not necessarily talking about a caffeine boost.
Let’s hope the soon-to-open Starbucks at Target will be a successful venture. Let’s hope this new venture will lead the way with expansion among local existing companies as well the starting up of new enterprises to serve customers here in Merced County and beyond.
If something like that happens, I’d be happy to buy people making the decision to grow their business in Merced a hot cup of coffee…either at the Starbucks in the Target Store, or at one of several other coffee shops that dot the community landscape.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced.
Meeting and Covering Mario Cuomo
Over the New Year holiday, we learned of former New York Governor Mario Cuomo’s passing at the age of 82.
Cub television reporter
As a former resident of the Empire State and a working journalist during most of the Cuomo administration, I covered the Governor during parts of his term.
My memories go back to the first time I met him in 1980. He was Lieutenant Governor and I was a cub television reporter for station WICZ in Binghamton. Cuomo was promoting some initiative from Governor Hugh Carey’s office. I don’t remember why he was in town, but I remember arriving to the press availability late and dealing with a handler who basically chastised me for being late and effectively told me that when you snooze you lose.
Observing my argument that we could set up our camera and ask a couple of questions in a matter of minutes, Cuomo came over to me, smiled, and then told his handler that he had the time to speak to my camera and me.
I spent several of the early Governor Cuomo administration years living outside New York State, but by the time I returned to live in Western New York in the mid-1980s, the Governor had a well-oiled government machine. He easily won reelection twice, and anyone who remembers the 1980s can hardly forget how his name frequently made the list of potential Democratic presidential nominees.
Livingston County Chamber of Commerce
By 1994, I left the world of television news and became an advocate for business as head of the Livingston County Chamber of Commerce. Once again, my path would cross that of Mario Cuomo.
It was in the fall of 1994 when the Governor arrived at the Livingston County Government Center in Geneseo, New York to announce a package of state incentives to keep a salt mine operating in our community.
The Governor’s office and the State Legislature worked with the County on a package of incentives. The Governor, who was up for re-election, wanted to make the point that his administration cared about those jobs and cared about upstate New York.
As the deal was sealed, it was decided by the Governor’s office that Mario Cuomo, staunch Democrat, would come to the Republican stronghold of Livingston County to personally deliver the goods.
The Governor was in a battle for his fourth term against George Pataki, so there was little doubt that politics played a role in the visit. But with a population around 65,000, the incumbent wasn’t going to win or lose the state based on how well or poorly he did in Livingston County. But image was as important then as it is today.
As a guest for the ceremony, I got to the Government Center about two hours early to get a seat close to the front. As Executive Director of the Livingston County Chamber of Commerce, I was in the audience to join with others in thanking the Governor and the Legislature for saving jobs in my community.
"We’re a family"
As he passed by me on his way to the podium, he shook a lot of hands including mine. He started his speech by addressing the elephant in the room. I’m not quoting him directly as it was twenty years ago and all I have are memories of that afternoon. Here’s what I recall the Governor saying to his Livingston County, New York audience:
“You may be asking what am I, a Democrat, doing here in the hot bed of the Republican party?” he joked with the receptive crowd. And then, he became serious. “I’m here because we’re a family, and this part of our family needs help and the rest of the family, the State of New York, is coming together to bring that help.”
When he finished, he left amid a standing ovation and again he passed by me. Again, I shook his hand. I had only been on the job as head of the Chamber of Commerce six months, but I was filled with the satisfaction that comes from knowing things were going to get better for the community.
Within a few weeks, the Governor would lose the election.
About a year later, the original aid package was rejected when the original mine company pulled out.
But a new company was formed, and five years later, long after Mario Cuomo left office, a new mine opened.
But it was those words from Governor Cuomo some twenty years ago that still resonate with me; challenging us to think of ourselves as a family, and coming together as a family when one of us needs help.
Those were powerful words two decades ago, and words that still define former Governor Mario Cuomo.
Steve Newvine has lived in the Central Valley of California for the past ten years.
A Pot Luck Filled with Love Plus
Love Plus Life Skills Training and Mentoring Fall Program
It was a pot luck dinner in many ways like the holiday parties that help define Christmas time: friends getting together, co-workers taking a moment to spend some social time with one another, or family joining in the spirit of the festive season. Only this pot luck was different
This was a pot luck dinner celebrating the graduation of ten participants in the Love Plus Life Skills Training and Mentoring Fall Program.
Love Plus is a life skills training and mentoring program offered by Love, INC in Merced.This year, ten participants completed the program. Since September, they have been attending weekly sessions at a classroom in the Gateway Community Church Conference Center.A second program was started this fall at the Atwater Nazarene Church.Each week, the session would begin with a speaker and specific lesson.Following the one-hour class, the participants would meet with their mentors for the second hour of the session.
The group was honored at a special graduation ceremony at Gateway Community Church in December, but not before one final lesson.Monika Grasley, Executive Director of Life Line Community Development, presented the final class about using the skills learned from the Love Plus program to recognize the gifts individuals have with their head, hands, and heart.
Monika was one of several volunteer presenters who spoke to the classes throughout the program cycle. Presentations over the twelve-week program included job interviewing, soft skills, financial management, and community service.It was an honor for me to be among the presenters.Throughout the season, other presenters included Shelly Hansen, Sherry Macias, and Eric Swensen.
Love INC
Sherry is the Executive Director of Love INC, and the force behind the Love Plus program.In her comments at the graduation, she told the group, “We can’t truly help people, until we take time to learn about their lives, connect with their struggles, and encourage their gifts.
The people entering the program cross a wide range of life experiences.Most have been through some setbacks.Some acknowledge they were responsible for some of the things that happened to them.But to a person, all agree that the combination of life skills alongside weekly mentoring has made a big difference in their lives.
At the ceremony, each participant was asked to speak to their experiences from the program.Most talked about their relationships with their mentors.
Experiences from the program
Teresa told the group she learned a lot of things that she’s going to use. Laura praised her mentor saying how she showed her how to be a better person. Candy said the program helped her realize that the best way to help others is to be sure she helps herself.Gina was recognized for having one-hundred percent participation in the program.Sable spoke about how her mentor showed her how to knuckle down to stay on track.Renee was grateful that the program exists for those who feel many doors have been closed to them.
Manuel and Stacy, one of two couples in the program, found the financial management sessions to be of great help to them. The other couple, Melinda and Jason, werepraised by their mentor whosaid, “They weren’t just individuals, they were a couple that are working great as a team.”
Volunteers also included child care givers who would look after the small children of some of the participants.Alex DeBusk donated her time and talent to document the event with photographs including the one selected for this column.
Faith in action
Love Plus is a program of Love INC, a coalition of churches working together to put faith into action.
A new cohort of participants is being recruited for the spring session beginning in early 2015.Of special need is for more potential mentors to step forward to help guide and nurture program participants.Anyone interested in learning more about becoming a mentor for the next Love Plus program beginning in early 2015 should contact Marcy Cotta, at 383-7034, or by email at info@loveincmerced.com
My involvement came about thanks in part to the columns I write for MercedCountyEvents.comA program volunteer found me in a Google search, realized I lived in Merced County, and asked me to share a cup of coffee to discuss the program.That happened more than two years ago.I met for coffee, asked a lot of questions, attended a session, and then agreed to do a presentation based on my book Soft Skills for Hard Times.
The graduation ceremony was about the people who have taken advantage of a unique opportunity to learn more about coping with life.They have learned that there are people out there willing to get to know them, and to find out more about who they are as individuals.As honored as I was to be part of that special pot luck dinner in December celebrating the success of this latest Love Plus class, I was grateful that someone reached out to me over two years ago to offer me an opportunity to share my experiences with others by being a program presenter.
I have a lot for which I’m thankful.Just like a pot luck dinner isn’t really about the food, this program to help others is much more than that.I was helped as well by being part of the leadership team for Love Plus that made this opportunity for others possible.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
Christmas in Port Leyden
Photo by Steve newvine
Ask a child what Christmas is all about, and most likely he or she will answer “presents”. Ask an adult the same question, and you’ll probably hear the word “family”.
I was fortunate that during my childhood years, memories of the holiday were created that included both presents and family.
Our family Christmas would be considered plentiful.My Mom told me once that there wasn’t much money around her home when she was a little girl and that she promised herself that when she had a family, she’d work all year long to save money to buy gifts.
In those childhood years when I was filled with anticipation, Grandma and Grandpa Newvine would come to our house in the early hours of Christmas Eve bringing what seemed like a pick-up truck filled with gifts.I remember my brother, sister, and I wondered whether upon seeing all these gifts later in the evening, Santa might think he already visited our house and not leave us anything from him.
Grandma Newvine would also knit us mittens.For a long time in the 1960s and 1970s, I could count on at least one new pair of woolen mittens every year at Christmas. They were made with love and built to last.Ironically, after getting at least fifteen pairs of mittens over my childhood years, not a single pair survived into adulthood.
I have just one mitten that survived nearly forty years of moving.It’s a good thing I’m living in a climate where it’s warm most of the time.
When I was older, I remember going to my other Grandma’s house not far from where we lived.Grandma’s gift to us in those later years was a box filled with all sorts of homemade cookies. She was a gifted baker and we always considered her box of cookies a true gift from the heart.
We’d go to her house which was about three miles away from where I grew up.Upon our arrival, she would turn off the television that was playing the latest Christmas TV special from Lawrence Welk or Perry Como, and then we would exchange gifts.
I remember for a few years when I was in elementary school, my go-to gift for Mom and both grandmothers was a set of potholders.I had a small loom that came with an ample supply of material loops we purchased from the 5 and 10-cent store in a village near my hometown.
Making potholders was easy to do, but time consuming. I bet I made over a hundred of those potholders over the years growing up in Port Leyden, New York.
Mom and Dad financed most of their Christmas giving through a Christmas Club savings plan at our local bank:Lewis County Trust Company.Each week, they’d tear off the deposit ticket in the Christmas Club book and make a deposit.By December, they’d cash in the club.
They even set up a smaller Christmas Club account, the proceeds of which they divided amongst my brother, sister, and me so that we’d be able to buy small gifts for everyone.
I will now make a confession to my brother and sister:in 1967, I bought the Monkees album entitled Pieces,Capricorn, Aquarius, and Jones, Limited for myself using some of my share of the Christmas Club proceeds.
Both siblings got gifts from me that year, but I suspect these gifts were not as elaborate as expected due to my affection for all things Mike, Mickey, Peter, and Davy.
Celebrating the holiday included Mass at St. Martin’s Church in my hometown.I remember several years when Midnight Mass was part of the Christmas ritual.The nuns from the Convent in our community would lead the choir.Sometimes, I would be assigned to serve as an Altar Boy at that Mass.
The priest would deliver a homily that would remind the congregation to focus on the true meaning of the holiday.
How all of the parts of Christmas fit together made sense to me; being mindful of the religious foundation for the holiday, being close to family, and expressing our love for one another with a gift that we thought was just right for the person receiving it.
All of it happening on one special day.
Merry Christmas to all!
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
Golf’s Greatest Challenge
photo by steve newvine
This picture shows my golf ball just a few inches from the cup. I took the picture the day I almost claimed the greatest prize for a golfer: a hole in one. That picture shows exactly where my ball landed after teeing off on a par three hole at a nine-hole course in the Central Valley of California.
I’ve come close to the cup before, but never that close. It happened about three years ago, and it’s never been closer to the cup since.
About ten years prior to that day when I came so close to a hole in one, I was with a golf foursome in upstate New York. One of the golfers in our group pulled out his seven iron on a par three that the golf card said was 165 yards long. The tee box was elevated about sixty feet higher than the putting green.
It was a beautiful hole, and if a golfer could just get the ball on the green, he or she would consider it to be a lucky shot.
My group was part of a small golf league formed at a chamber of commerce where I worked. The idea behind the league was to keep some chamber volunteers engaged in the summer months when their activity level decreased due to vacations and better weather.
Throughout the summer every week, about a dozen golfers got together for this league. Handicaps were used to allow those of us who were developing our game to compete with those who were more successful on the course. I don’t remember much about who was leading in the league. Back in those days, I didn’t care much for scores. I wasn’t doing very well, but I loved getting out there and hacking away with the others.
While I may not have given much credence to my own golf game, I respected the skill of those who did excel on the course. That night, I happened to be with a couple of really good golfers. One of them had the shot of his life.
With the seven iron gripped snugly, and his head tipped downward, he lined up the ball to the club. His swing wasn’t a hard and fast swing, but more of a graceful and lofty pitch of the ball off the tee and up high and long.
Keeping in mind that my memory of the exact characteristics of the swing have faded a little in the past twelve years, all I can say now is that it was perfect.
The ball landed about four feet from the hole, and then started to roll. Our view from a distance of about one-and-a-half football fields away wasn’t real clear, but it looked as though the ball went in the cup.
After following the ball trajectory and landing, he looked up at me and asked, “Did that go in?”
I turned my head back to the putting green, and then back to him and said, “I think so.”
The rest of the foursome took our tee shots. It didn’t really matter to us because by then we were all convinced we had witnessed something truly special on the golf course.
I got to the putting green first, and walked slowly up to the cup. I didn’t say a word as our lead off golfer walked up to the cup, smiled, reached in, and pulled out his golf ball. The rest of the foursome gave his a round of applause.
We quickly finished the round and in keeping with clubhouse tradition, the hole-in-one was celebrated with a round of drinks on the man who achieved one of golf’s most elusive feats.
I would leave that area of upstate New York in another six months to pursue the career promises and golf courses of the golden state.
Years later, in spite of playing practically every week, I have yet to experience the hole in one on my own.
But thanks to the luck of being put into the foursome on that special evening over a dozen years ago, I got to experience the magic that comes from watching someone meet up with and achieve golf’s greatest challenge.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
I Wish You Had Met Rick
photo by steve newvine
I wish you had met Rick. Your life might have been changed just a little bit. He was born and raised not too far from my home in a nearby village, but we didn’t get to know one another until both of us ended up in the same class at a community college. It was only after each of us in the class had to stand up and introduce ourselves to one another that I realized there was at least one more person who was from same area as I was.
He was shy. I wasn’t.
Rick recalled that day in an essay he wrote some thirty years later.
“ After class he stopped me, and mentioned that he and I were not far apart where our home towns were concerned, and how we should both get together one of these days, and I said yes, of course we should, thinking to myself who the hell is this idiot who sounds like a game show host? He sounds so artificial. Yeah, we’ll get together. Right. He doesn’t really mean we ever should. How wrong I was…”
Not much of a start for a friendship that lasted nearly forty years. But it was a beginning point. We proved that first impression wrong by establishing a bond that endured community college, baccalaureate degrees, marriage, children, jobs, moves, health problems, and finally annual visits to his hometown.
In the same essay, he would write, “I was me, and I was his friend, and that’s what mattered.”
Ours was what I would call an unconditional friendship. He knew that I’d be there through thick and thin. I knew that I could reach out anytime and there would be a listening ear.
Rick was legally blind. He could see, but his vision was limited. He couldn’t drive. He tried to sit close to the front of the college classroom so that he could see the blackboard and overhead projector pages. When I first met him he had really thick glasses. Later his vision improved with corrective surgery.
While some may see that as a disability, Rick never let it get in the way of pursuing his many talents such as writing poetry and prose, composing music, playing the guitar and keyboard, studying ministry, and singing.
He even wrote a song about my part time job on the local radio station called Someone’s Listening. I’ve used portions of the lyrics, with his permission, in two of my books.
After college he worked for several years at a preschool in suburban Rochester. He loved the work, and the children loved him. A couple he met while at another college became lifelong friends. He was their Thanksgiving guest for well over thirty years, even outlasting the couple’s marriage.
He later became more involved with his church, First Presbyterian in Boonville, New York. He took on an active role in the lay ministry. He took courses and was commissioned as a Lay Preacher. He frequently led services on Sunday at his home church, and occasionally took on assignments at other faith communities when needed.
For many years when I lived in the Rochester area, Rick and I established a Black Friday tradition. We’d go out for a couple of beers on that Friday after Thanksgiving.
As the years progressed, we moved the venue from a barroom to a coffee shop and drank coffee for a couple of hours. We spoke by phone and saw each other throughout the year, but there was something special about getting together over coffee on that first day of the holiday shopping season.
When my wife and I moved to the other side of the country, I made it a point to see Rick on my annual visits back to my hometown. Several years ago, he called me a few days before he was going in to the hospital for heart surgery. He survived the surgery, and coped with heart and then kidney problems in later years.
He became a dialysis patient in the final years of his life. My visits in recent years were always scheduled on non-dialysis days. We stayed close to his apartment by having coffee and lunch at Burger King.
But our times at the local Burger King drinking coffee and eating a fish or chicken sandwich were much more than just two friends catching up. Sure, we talked about our families, critiqued the latest music from one of our favorites in the 1970s era, or complained about national politics regardless of which party was in office.
But we also talked about God, we talked about life, and we talked about death.
We tried to fill the time between in-person visits with whatever communication tools we had. There were birthday phone calls, notes accompanying one of my books or his music CD, and our ongoing email messages.
My written messages to him always ended with the phrase, “friend through the end.” I guess that on a subconscious level I was reassuring him that his first impression of me wasn’t the real deal.
In 2013 while visiting my dad in early November, I again made plans to visit Rick. This time, he told me to come to the local rehabilitation center where he was recovering from yet another complication related to dialysis. We had to sign him out of the center for the few hours that we’d be away at the Burger King having coffee and lunch.
I don’t recall anything unusual about that visit other than Rick telling me how frustrating it was to have to deal with problems related to his dialysis treatments. He had spoken of that before, and this time it didn’t seem to be out of the ordinary for him to talk about his disappointment with this latest barrier to his health.
Later that month, he’d share Thanksgiving again with his friends in the Rochester area. That annual visit was important to him and he wasn’t about to miss it that year.
In December during the Christmas season, my wife and I were visiting our daughter out of state. I thought nothing of checking my personal email account and went into some sort of shock when I read a message telling me Rick had passed away over the weekend.
It was just a little more than a week before Christmas and less than two weeks before his fifty-seventh birthday. I had already purchased a birthday card that I planned to send shortly before the holiday. I ended up sending the card to his parents; I wanted them to know their son would be remembered on his birthday.
I can’t describe what it was like to have a friend like Rick. The words I take so much pride in putting down on paper cannot do justice. I’d rather use his words from the same essay referenced earlier:
“And this friend, he has been with me through all of what I am and what I have experienced. He has been a friend through the worst of me. I wish to God I could have done the same for him.”
Rick had this last part of his essay wrong. Yes, I was there helping him get through all of what he was, what he endured, and what he experienced. But he’s wrong when he says he wishes he could have done the same for me. By living on this Earth those short fifty-seven years, he enriched the lives of so many.
Through his interpretation of Holy Scripture, he brought God to the people, and people to God. Through his love and acceptance of his family, he touched lives in many positive ways.
As my friend, he did the same for me; his example spanned across five decades.
I wish you could have known my friend Rick. (you can read Rick’s obituary at http://www.trainorfuneralhome.com/obituary/Richard-J.-Bellinger/Boonville-NY/1323298.
The essay by Rick referenced in this essay can be found at http://rickwestermanbellinger.wordpress.com/author/rickwestermanbellinger/page/4/ )
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
A Snowmobile’s Restoration Restores Memories
It sat in the window of the Denslow Equipment Company, a farm machinery business in Boonville, New York, a few miles from my hometown. It was a circa 1960s Ski Doo snowmobile. The sled was manufactured by the Bombardier Corporation of Canada and it helped lead the way toward making winter a whole lot faster and more fun for families in the northern United States. The restored sled is bright yellow with the words Ski Doo printed in red on the cab. The engine requires the user to mix gas and oil together. The sled is ideal for one, but can seat two comfortably, three with a little snuggling, and four if you really try and if two of the four are young children.
I asked the manager at the store about the restoration. He told me it took over a year to convert what was once destined for the junk heap and rejuvenate it into something he is very proud to show to customers and the curious like me. He told me it is for sale, but I did not ask him about the price. I don’t need to buy anything. I have childhood memories of a snowmobile just like the one in that window.
The Ski Doo I saw that day during a vacation visit this fall was restored to the showroom beauty that captured the imaginations of many. It sure took me back to the days when an afternoon of family sledding on a toboggan and long walks up a hill would soon be replaced by a vehicle that carried people over the snow.
There’s a picture from my family’s many photo albums of my brother, sister, Mom, and me on the snowmobile. As you can see from the red and white wool hat I was wearing, style was not critical on that winter day. Fun in the snow was the goal, and we had a lot of fun. I share a story in my book Growing Up, Upstate about the time when my Dad let me drive the sled. I was barely seven years old as I plowed through a hedge bush in our front yard before coming to a stop in a snowbank across the street from my house.
Over the years as we got older, my brother and I would each get our own snowmobile. Used sleds were relatively cheap in the early 1970s as dozens of older snowmobiles from the previous decade were traded in for newer and more powerful models.
The community of Boonville would have annual snowmobile races at the County Fairgrounds. My friends Jerry and Dan would go the races, and the pre-race speed trials for a couple of years. Speed was becoming a piece of the action as the engines became more sophisticated.
I stopped riding my sled after I left home in the late 1970s. My dad sold his snowmobile once he and my mom started going to Florida every winter. My brother kept up the tradition with his son up until recent years. Snow machines today are heavier and much, much faster. It’s not at all uncommon to read in my hometown newspaper about a serious snowmobile accident caused in part by excessive speed every winter.
I prefer my outdoor fun to be a little bit slower. While the novelty of a motorized snow sled may have worn off a little with the passing of years, it’s nice to have returned to a different era and remember all the fun I had when the first snowmobile arrived in our backyard. I haven’t been on one in many years, but I still have the memories from a time when the family snowmobile was the center of attention during the winter in upstate New York.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
Barn Signs and Bureaucracy Collide in Mail Pouch Sign Controversy
PHOTO CREDIT: NEWVINE PERSONAL COLLECTION
You might recall my column from April 2014 about the refurbished Mail Pouch Tobacco sign at the barn on the east side of Highway 99 south of Merced. If you drove by it in recent weeks, you probably noticed that one of the advertisements painted on the barn is now gone. We have the state transportation agency Caltrans to thank for this blocked out image of the former sign promoting APG Solar of Atwater.
APG Solar President Brent Jerner had his company logo painted on the barn in a transaction between his company and the owners of the barn, Victor and Lorraine Dragovich, about three years ago.
Earlier in 2014, Brent worked with the non-profit group Mail Pouch Barnstormers to secure a grant covering the partial costs to have the Mail Pouch Tobacco lettering repainted.
The net result was a bright new look for the barn, and the restoration of a County landmark.
Enter the new reconstruction project of Highway 99 with the state transportation agency Caltrans rules regarding the distance from road signs to the highway, and the trouble began.
The Dragovichs received a registered letter from Caltrans pointing out that with the new highway moving closer to the barn, the APG Solar sign was in violation of department rules governing the distance road signs can be from the highway.
The letter demanded the APG Solar sign be removed, or else the Dragovichs could face fines of $10,000 or more.
APG’s Jerner tried to fight the ruling. “We took it up several levels through Caltrans,” Brent said. “We took it here locally, then on to Stockton to the regional office, and on up to Sacramento. But at the end of it all, the ruling stood.” Brent had the APG Solar logo painted over.
The Mail Pouch letters can remain as they were part of the original advertising on the building. As the company Mail Pouch no longer exists, the lettering on the barn is not considered advertising.
The Mail Pouch barn has a lot of history. The original barn sign was painted by three men, known as barnstormers, working on behalf of the Mail Pouch Tobacco Company back in 1940.
Victor Dragovich says the trio took two days to paint the sign on the roof. He was ten years old when the advertising was painted. He’s lived at the home next to the barn all his life.
The barn was built in 1937 by Victor’s dad with help from Victor’s older brother. Victor’s parents, his brother, and three sisters lived there growing up in rural Merced. Victor and his wife Lorraine have lived at the homestead ever since they were married. They raised a son and daughter there.
The restoration work was done by artist Deanna Schmidz. The project was made possible by a grant from the Mail Pouch Barnstormers group and with help from APG Solar.
While disappointed with the decision by Caltrans to force the repainting of his company’s logo and phone number, Brent is taking it in stride and not letting it impact his business. The company is expanding to a new building on land in the former Castle Air Force Base.
A five-thousand foot metal building is being built to house the growing business. Another seventy-five hundred square foot section will be added in the future. The company is relocating to a site near the Big Creek Lumber Company.
Brent says that while he regrets Caltrans decision, he has no regrets being involved with entire Mail Pouch barn restoration project. At the time of the restoration, he had the east side of the barn painted with the Mail Pouch letters.
“We did that for the Dragovich’s,” Brent said. “That way they could enjoy what the rest of us have enjoyed these past several months.”
We’ll continue to enjoy the new look of the Mail Pouch barn. While it will no longer bear the image of APG Solar, the company that was instrumental in getting the restoration started, the barn will continue to impress visitors passing by on Highway 99.
And on a sunny day, when the sun hits the west side of the barn just right, you’ll notice the painted over image of the Atwater based solar company that made the project possible.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
Best Books Ever
PHOTO CREDIT: NEWVINE PERSONAL COLLECTION
My sister recently sent a message to her family and friends on Facebook asking to share the ten favorite books one has read. It was a fun exercise, but I did not spend a lot of time in my response. I came up with a couple books that I consider my all-time favorites, and then filled out the list with titles that I could retrieve from my memory.
So in fairness to me, and my love of reading, I went back to the journals I’ve kept in recent years listing every book I read. I wrote short “book reports”, much like the ones I would write for my sixth grade English teacher Mr. Spence.
I ended each report with a one-to four star rating. What follows is a top ten list of favorites from the past few years. As with most of my top ten lists, these are not listed in any particular order.
- Florida Roadkill by Tim Dorsey. This novelist has created a couple of wacky characters who roam the highways of Florida. It’s an acquired taste, but I found this and at least one other from the series to be quite entertaining in a “good in small doses” kind of way.
- The Cider House Rules by John Irving. I’m a big fan of the movie starring Tobey Maguire andMichael Caine. So I read this simply to judge whether the old saying, “if you liked the movie, you’ll love the book” was true. It was.
- The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak. The holocaust is the backdrop in this novel about friendship and compassion for others. Disturbing, as most stories tackling this top are, but an excellent work.
- Seven-hundred Sundays by Billy Crystal. A deeply personal book about the comedian’s dad, who passed away when Billy was fifteen. Billy had seven-hundred Sundays with his father, and he shares lots of laughs and tears in this memoir.
- Appaloosa by Robert B. Parker. I’m a fan of this popular author of the Spenser series, but this western just connected with the side of me that wants to ride the range and take out the bad guys. I was particularly struck by the point of view being that of the deputy, and not the main character of the sheriff.
- Light from Heaven by Jan Karon. This is on my list because I like holiday novels and I enjoyed the Father Tim series by this author. This is a nice story that does not fall into the usual holiday novel form where everything is buttoned up by Christmas Eve.
- My Losing Season by Pat Conroy. Non-fiction account of the author’s youth and adolescence seen through his love of the game of basketball.
- Completing my top ten list is the book I’m reading now. Or maybe the book I read after this one. Who knows? Life is a journey, and books are the waypoints.
Steve Newvine Lives in Merced
Kevin Ward Junior and Community Spirit in My Hometown
PHOTO CREDIT: NEWVINE PERSONAL COLLECTION
Growing up in a small town, I used to get a kick out of seeing my village’s name mentioned somewhere in the media. Most of the time, I’d see the village of Port Leyden, New York associated with heavy snowfall. The neighboring villages in this Adirondack foothills region included Lyons Falls and Boonville.
I got my diploma from the South Lewis Central School District in Turin. These villages are within a few miles of one another. Recently, all of the four communities mentioned above were in the national news, but there were very few smiles as we read and watched the news reports this time.
Hometown of Port Leyden
Port Leyden, my hometown, is also the hometown of race car driver Kevin Ward Junior. By now, you probably have heard Kevin was struck after he got out of his racecar at a western New York dirt track on August 9. Lyons Falls was where Kevin worked on his racecars.
The funeral home calling hours were held in Boonville. On Thursday August 14, his memorial service was held at South Lewis High School in Turin where there was enough room for the hundreds upon hundreds of friends, family, and supporters who came to express condolences.
You may also be familiar with the video shown hundreds of times in the days following the tragedy. Kevin’s car was bumped out of contention by driver Tony Stewart.
The video shows Kevin getting out of his car. Stewart’s car appears to slow down, and then speed up in a fishtail that pulled Kevin under the rear wheel.
As the week passed, we saw fewer replays of the incident, and more stories about Kevin, his family, and his hometown. I read how Kevin and his friends would work on cars every Sunday following a Saturday night racing event. Among the photographs from the memorial service, I recognized his dad and a couple of his uncles that I knew when growing up. Their sadness is our sadness. And that’s why at first it was hard to see the names of those villages mentioned. I still go back to Port Leyden every year to visit family and friends. Seeing the names of these communities in the context of this horrible tragedy was hard to take at first.
Many magazines and newspapers chronicled the tragedy.
Writing for The Marbles, a sports blog from the Yahoo.com website, columnist Jay Busbee described the pathways a young person has in a small town “You've got two choices: you decide you're going to settle in where you are, or you race as hard and fast as you can to achieve escape velocity. And you don't have long to make the choice.”
In USA Today, writer Kevin Oklobzija described the upstate spirit this way: “Here, in these tiny towns at the southern end of New York's Adirondack Region, there are no strangers.” Writing for the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle, reporter Jeff Gluck quoted a teenager who summed up her feelings about community, “Port Leyden and Lyons Falls are so small that everyone not only knows each other but everyone feels like family. We're all really close, When something happens, everyone around here is there for each other.”
As I started to reread some of those articles I saw those communities described with phrases such as: close-knit, everyone is treated like family, and everybody knows everybody.
Community pride
My sense of community pride was awakened. That’s what I remember most about my hometown and the many communities surrounding it. Even if you didn’t know everyone, you felt as though you were part of the family that defines a community. A lot has changed in my hometown since I left it over thirty years ago. Large manufacturers abandoned the villages of Lyons Falls and Boonville in the past decade. Dairy farms are so prominent some have said there are more cows than people living in the area.
Population has declined over the years. In a way, the makeup of the community I knew no longer exists. But some things never change. Reading about my hometown and surrounding villages coming together to pay respects and offer comfort to a family that is looking for answers says a lot about what I remember about community spirit.
Spirit of Upstate New York
Community spirit is alive and well in the village of Port Leyden as well as the surrounding communities in Lewis and Oneida Counties in upstate New York. It may have taken the tragedy of racing star Kevin Ward Junior for the rest of the nation to see this community spirit, but it’s been part of the fabric of rural upstate New York for a long time.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced.
He wrote about his home town in the books Growing Up, Upstate and Grown Up, Going Home.
Seeing Sinatra
PHOTO CREDIT: NEWVINE PERSONAL COLLECTION
Frank Sinatra
Among the experiences I have appreciated in my life are the two times I saw Frank Sinatra in concert.
I became a fan of Sinatra in 1980 when he released New York, New York. That was the year I got married. My wife and I honeymooned in New York City so I must have heard that song a hundred times leading up to our wedding. I know I heard it a few times while walking the streets of the Big Apple during the week of our honeymoon.
Fifty dollar tickets
Two years later, I was in Las Vegas for a convention. I stayed at Caesars Palace and as luck would have it, Frank was playing in the big room. Tickets were fifty dollars, so I stayed away from the casino and plopped down my money for what I thought would be a once-in-lifetime concert.
Lucky seats
No one I knew from the convention had any interest in attending the concert, so I entered the big room without them. Again, luck was with me as the usher escorted me to the front and center of the theater to a seat that filled out a table of eight. I had one of the best seats in the house simply because I was there alone and there had been room for only one more at that table. I made friends with the other people at the table and we settled in for the show.
“Welcome to my daddy’s show”
First up was Nancy Sinatra. While the lobby posters billed the show as Frank and Nancy, the daughter did not sing with her dad. I remember a few things about her performance that seemed strange. The first words out of her mouth when the applause from her introduction ended were “Welcome to my daddy’s show”. I found it odd was that her only hit record These Boots Were Made for Walking was not included in her half-hour show.
Other than being Frank’s daughter, the only reason most people would want to see Nancy sing would be for her to sign that hit record from the mid-1960s. I guess if your father is Frank Sinatra, it doesn’t matter what you sing on stage.
There was no duet with her father, even though the pair scored a top ten record in the early 1970s called Something Stupid.
Comedian Charlie Callas
Following Nancy, comedian Charlie Callas performed for a half-hour. Callas had a rubbery kind of comic face that actually reminds me of actor Jim Carrey. He kept us laughing as we patiently awaited the arrival of the real star of the show. As Callas left the stage from one end, Frank Sinatra walked out from the other end. There was no introduction, just applause from a grateful audience. Frank thanked the audience and asked Charlie Callas to come back out for a final bow.
Chairman of the Board
After Charlie took his final bow, Frank signaled to the orchestra leader and started his show with I’ve Got the World by the String. Then, for the next hour-and-a-half, we saw the man known as the Chairman of the Board take command of the stage. He finished with Chicago, and then returned for a curtain call where he sang New York, New York. He was sixty-seven in 1982, probably a few years past his prime, but still a very entertaining performer. Eleven years later in 1993, a seventy-eight year old Sinatra was still performing and I once again got a chance to see him live on stage.
Show in New York
This time it was in Rochester, New York. By then, everyone knew the Sinatra we would see on stage was not the same Rat-packer we witnessed in 1982. As one local critic described the event prior to the concert, “You’re not going to the show to see the Sinatra of thirty, twenty, or even ten years ago. You’re going to the concert to witness one of the world’s greatest performers as he winds down his public life.”
Comedian Tom Driesen did the warm up act at this Sinatra concert. Son Frank Junior conducted the orchestra. Frank sang the lyrics that appeared on a teleprompter at each of the four corners of the boxing ring type stage.
It wasn’t the same as I had experienced eleven years earlier, but I knew that going in. My wife and I enjoyed the show.
Sinatra parking space at the Cal-Neva Resort at Lake Tahoe, photo by Steve Newvine
Shortly after that performance, Sinatra stopped performing altogether. He passed away a few years later at the age of eighty-three.
The closest I would come to the Sinatra legacy again would be a parking spot marked with his name at the former Cal-Neva casino at Lake Tahoe on the California and Nevada line shortly after moving to California in 2004.
I have fond memories of the two Sinatra concerts I saw from a few decades back. Frank is gone, but the music lives.
No matter what you thought of Sinatra’s personal life, and there was certainly enough to pick apart if that is your pleasure, no one could argue about his contributions to popular music and the classic tunes commonly referred to the Great American Songbook.
To paraphrase the lyrics of one of his hit records, those were very good years.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
A Letter to A T & T
PHOTO BY STEVE NEWVINE
AT&T call center closing
I read in the paper recently that the union representing some of the employees at AT & T’s Atwater Call Center was asking for letters to the company. The union promised to forward any letters sent to their office in Modesto.
I sent this letter:
AT & T Castle Commerce Park Atwater, CA Dear ATT: Thank you for being a respected employer in Merced County these past two decades. As a resident of Merced County, I appreciate the economic impact the company made on the community. By employing close to four-hundred workers, you helped improve the quality of life for countless families. You were a good employer. We are saddened that a business decision has been made to end operations at the facility at the former Castle Air Base. AT & T was the first major employer to lease space at the former Air Base after military operations left. The company has been an anchor in the efforts by Merced County to market the site to other companies. I hope business conditions change and that AT & T might again consider Merced County for the location of a call center or other facility. The company knows our labor force, our business friendly approach, and our strong work ethic. ATT has enjoyed success here in Merced County for two decades. We hope to welcome you back in the future. Sincerely,
Steve Newvine
Two-decades of employment
My letter thanked the company for two-decades of employment on behalf of hundreds of families in and around Merced County. When AT & T leaves the call center buildings at Castle Air Base at the end of the summer, nearly four-hundred jobs will be lost. Employment has been offered at the company’s call centers in California and other states.
The company’s original offer for continued employment included a five-thousand dollar moving allowance and a ten-day decision window.
Economic tragedy for local families
My letter made it clear that I understand the business decision that drove this economic tragedy for local families. The company paid decent wages and many workers have described working conditions as good. But apparently there are efficiencies to be achieved by consolidating operations within other facilities. I try to be mindful that had this decision gone the other way, and workers from other facilities would have been asked to move within a week-and-a-half to Merced County, many of us would be celebrating a victory for job development in our community.
Keeping the door open
The letter offers to keep the door open should business conditions change in the future. Should AT & T ever consider expansion again, I ‘ll do whatever I can to gain the support of the entire business development community, from the Office of Commerce, Aviation, and Economic Development to the County Workforce Investment Board. I serve on the board of the latter.
In times like these, it would be easy to take shots at AT & T or any company that eliminates jobs from our community. I’d like to think the company discussed some of their efficiency concerns with the union representing workers and economic development leaders in the community. I have seen no evidence of that from the reporting done in the local media.
There’s even a small part of me hoping AT & T will see some merit in reconsidering the decision, although I’ve seen enough of these operational restructurings to know better. Anything is possible, but we have to move on and embrace the companies that want to do business in our county.
Our community has taken another hit in the struggle to recover from the recession. We’ll add it to the list of setbacks endured by Merced County in terms of job growth.
We’ll also take stock of our strong points:
- Agriculture
- Highway ninety-nine improvements
- UC Merced
Compassion for the families
The mourning period for the departure of AT & T will extend beyond the end of the summer when the last employee leaves the facilities at Customer Care Way in Atwater. With compassion for the families facing uncertainty and empathy for the businesses that relied on local spending from the AT & T payroll, we will move onward.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced.
He serves on the Merced County Workforce Investment Board
No More Saturday Night Summer Music at Merced Mall
PHOTO BY STEVE NEWVINE
No more summer concerts
I found out this week that one of my summertime pleasures, the Saturday night music concert series at Merced Mall, has been discontinued.
I asked the person at the information desk inside the Mall whether the series would be held this summer and she told me that the concerts are not returning. A call into the Mall offices got me a very nice person who confirmed the news, and directed me back to the information desk to fill out a comment card.
I also noticed that you can also comment on anything related to the Mall at their website www.MercedMall.com
My feelings about this decision by the Mall do not consist of anger or frustration. I’m sure this was purely a business decision. I work in the business sector every day. I understand why choices such as this one are made.
Free to the public
As the concerts were free to the public, it’s reasonable to guess the Mall’s budget for this kind of summertime activity was strained. Artists deserve to be paid. Hosting a series of two-hour concerts at the Mall likely entails increased expenses for such things as set-up, security, and post-event janitorial work. It’s true that the concerts brought in a lot of people who probably would not go to the Mall on a Saturday night in the summer. Some of these new visitors spent money in the stores and at the food court. Others did not.
I suspect that after four years, the cost of producing the series did not pencil out. There were more people in the Mall on those Saturday nights, but the revenue from increased traffic likely did not justify the expense. Still, I am saddened that this little piece of life in Merced has come to an end.
Good memories
There are good memories from those many concerts we attended over the years. My favorite concert was from a bluegrass band that called itself The Grass Kickers. In recent years, some members from that group formed a new band that also delighted the crowd. We also enjoyed the light jazz from John Albano and his quartet. I introduced John’s music to my in-laws during one of their visits to the valley.
Cool and comfortable
The concerts provided a respite from the intense valley heat. The variety of music offered appealed to just about everyone. If a particular week’s program didn’t interest you, you could pass on it and return later in the summer. It was nice to see live music performed in a comfortable (assuming you either got there early enough for a seat or brought in your own folding chair) setting. The mood was always light, the audiences were appreciative, and the artists were grateful. We often saw people we knew from church or other organizations attending the concerts. It was a fun and safe place to meet, greet, and connect with acquaintances. Plus, it got us away from the television set on a Saturday night. Saturday nights won’t seem the same this summer, at least for now. Soon we and the other people who attended the concerts will find something else to do to fill the void left by the end of the Merced Mall Summer Music Series. It was fun while it lasted.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced.
Brotherly Joy Just a Phone Call Away
My brother and I
If a picture could have a title, I’d call this one Brotherly Joy. I’m the younger boy in the picture. The older boy is my brother Terry who turned sixty in June. My brother and I don’t get to see one another much anymore. I fly back to my home town once a year and we send birthday cards and holiday cards in between those visits. But we stay connected by the telephone. We always call on each other’s birthday, the major holidays, and when one of us feels it has been too long since the last call.
Phone calls
I enjoy those phone calls. There’s an update on how our spouses are doing, a status report on our children, and in his case, the latest on his two grandchildren. We also talk about cars, our lawns, household projects, our jobs, a neighbor or family friend who had recently passed away, professional sports, my golf game, his horse shoe pitching tournament, our sister and her family, our dad, our hometown, and which Mass we attended on that particular weekend.
The calls go on for about thirty to forty-five minutes. We end with a guess as to the next time I’ll be back east to visit. We say goodbye. I then tell my wife what we talked about and I suspect my brother does the same thing with his wife. The gift of our phone calls is one I cherish the most. My brother and I don’t exchange emails, and the cards we send at birthdays and on holidays include signing our names with maybe a line or two about the weather. But on the phone, we open up and have a great conversation.
I light up when I see his number on my caller ID. My moving to California a decade ago put three-thousand miles in physical distance between my brother and me. But the phone calls have, in my opinion, brought us closer together.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced
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