From September to November in 2007 I was so alarmed that the beavers were going to be killed I don’t think I did anything but worry and canvas. I remember Jon and I would hang out by the dam on the weekend talking to media and anyone that seemed inclined to listen. When the dynamic unexpected council meeting happened my fears were paused, but not eliminated. I knew that meeting had slowed the tanker, (which was a HUGE achievement) but not yet turned it around. I very much hoped I would get to be on the subcommittee but I thought it was a long shot. I remember realizing that I should ASK to be appointed, which was not a thing I was used to doing. When my request was answered I launched into serious research mode and prepared a reader of articles addressing what I guessed would be the primary concerns for letting the beavers stay: Flooding, Burrowing, Water quality, Fish Passage, Reproduction and Mosquitoes. I made nine copies of the reader with tabs and photos and a spiral binding and distributed it to every subcommittee member that first tuesday night. I still have mine, and I’m very proud of it.
It’s safe to say that I hoped for success, but I always expected to fail.
Things didn’t look any more comforting from my view on the subcommittee. As I moved closer to the inner workings of the council and staff I never felt more reassured. Quite the opposite, I realized more keenly what we were up against. Prejudice and fear were deep, powerful, leviathan beings that lurked at the end of every sentence. The more I advocated the more dangerous I understood the beavers world had become. Those 90 days were as unreal as any I have known; I listened every tuesday to horrific lies and distortions, smiled politely and tried to speak up, doing my best to challenge them with a respectful, cheerful bunch of facts and running in a panic to my ‘beaver experts’ whenever I got in over my head.
During this grueling work, I was invited by Igor Skaredoff of Friends of Alhambra Creek to speak to their group. Mitch Avalon who was also on the subcommittee was running the meeting. Both of these men eventually became great beaver friends, but they didn’t start out that way, and I was anxious about presenting to them. They met in the public works office, which was a grisly omen as far as I was concerned. The room must have had thirty people arranged in a triangle. They were smart biologists and park rangers, some bemused at my beaver-hobby, some supportive and some openly hostile. In those early days I hadn’t yet understood that the very first place to look for beaver friends is the watershed council. (If they aren’t there naturally the smallest nudge of data will usually do the trick.).
The night was actually excellent, I had no slides or video or talk prepared back then. I just spoke about the role of beavers and my work to save them. I remember at the end a lovely woman said such a surprising thing – about my doing so much for them, giving so much time and energy, did I have a thought about why?
I was taken aback. I hadn’t realized I was giving alot, I had just been aware of not doing enough. It moved me greatly and I answered with a swell of feeling. “The beavers gave me a gift. They let me wake up early and find a wilderness 8 blocks from my house. They let me film them and watch their secrets. They gave me something wonderful. I can give them back a year.”
(Yes in those days, I thought I’d be done in a year. ha)
That night I got back into my car in the public works parking lot on Glacier drive and before I put my key in the ignition, paused to reflect on the night. It it hit me. For the first time. We were going to win. It had never really seemed possible before. But that February night I knew that the beavers were going to stay in Martinez and the council would have to accommodate them. I know that Igor and Mitch would eventually be on the side of beavers, and that there would be only one anti-beaver voice left on the subcommittee. The beavers would win. We would win. I would win. And he would lose.
That brief epiphany of success was shocking in a way that I hadn’t expected. I was used to anticipating things going wrong, and the knowledge that they were going to go right was startling but wholesome. It was less like “I always knew it would happen” and more like “Jesus Christ, we’re actually going to win this thing!” It was completely surprising, that little moment under the streetlight in the parking lot.
Not withstanding a council that wouldn’t vote in April, and the cardboard-carrying beaver “expert” invited to refute our findings, or the sheetpile wall or the massive lying that continued, I turned out to be right. We DID win. And to all extents and purposes, it was that night, the night that friends of alhambra creek became friends of beavers, that did it.
I mention this because yesterday I had a similar ‘success’ moment. This time about the festival. I’ve been worried with details and printers and schedules and rentals and contracts. The t-shirts came back from the with no letter and one of our bands looked like they might pull out and the boyscouts might not sell water. But suddenly yesterday, in a brief moment of clarity, I knew that this festival was going to be wonderful. Organized and delightful and bursting with educational fun that would change the way 1000 people saw beavers forever.
It was a nice feeling. You had better come for yourself to see if I was right.
