Supreme Decisions

The following article was published in the “Inyokern News Review” as a letter to the editor in October 1990.  The letter was written in response to the unnecessary death of a young girl.  The question then was whose life is valued more an endangered species or human life?

The underlying importance of this issue highlights another question: Are we going to allow the loss of the rights guaranteed through the Constitution for all Americans as a remedy?

Even though the article was written in 1990, the issues surrounding it still exist today and will continue until the people’s voice is loud and clear that they will not stand for remedies, which result in the taking of properties.  The Fifth Amendment of United States Constitution clearly prohibits the taking of properties for public use without just compensation.

The Fifth Amendment does not say that “We the People” [the property owner] must do the compensating.  Nevertheless, across America, property owners are told they must compensate in order to improve their property when their property is said to be in the habitat of an endangered species.

Supreme Decisions

By Trudy A. Martinez

Tom Turner, author of “Courting Disaster in the Nation’s Capital”, (Mother Earth News, March-April ’88 p44 (2)) says, “The Supreme Court can go for long periods without rendering decisions in environmental disputes.”  Some recent decisions have ruled in favor of property holders.”

“ . . .  The Firth Amendment prohibits “. . . nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.”  The courts have ruled in favor of the property holder’s right to develop their lands and against environmentalist who wish to prohibit such undertakings.

The Mohave Ground Squirrel has posed some problems for our area residence.  Property holders are being robbed of property, money, and peace of mind in regards to this issue.  Inconsistency, extortion, blackmail, and plain highway robbery appear to be the tactics incorporated by the so-called public agency.

A recent death of a young girl in our area reveals that the Mohave Ground Squirrel’s life is considered of more value than human life.  The most dangerous intersection in Ridgecrest goes without a traffic signal because of the prohibiting of development.

Enough is enough!  Agencies such as The Nature Conservancy should be forced to have their day in court against the people of California and other states in the Union, if applicable.  Joint and/or single court action should be ensued.  True, court action may take years; but with the press, public records, documentation, and foresight, the people can again be victorious.

George Reiger author of “Unnatural Developments” says, “Although TNC uses millions of nonprofit dollars annually, it offers little accountability to the public underwriting its schemes”.

The Nature Conservancy’s record is not lily-white.  They want a monopoly with no competition.  If the people stand in their way, they move them, cheat them, and abridge the people’s rights.

A “Supreme Decision” is not just for the courts but also for the individuals and/or groups of individuals who are affected by mismanaged corrupt governmental concerns.  America is still a government of the people.  It is the responsibility of Americans to remind the agencies that tend to hinder personal rights guaranteed through the Constitution and the “Bill of Rights” to seek restitution.  Not always is the mere joining of special interest groups enough.  The way to pursue action if you want results is to challenge them.  “A squeaky wheel gets attention; a well oiled wheel is left alone.”  The more media coverage there is the better.  The more cases tried, the more examples set.  To question, to challenge, and to fight for the justice and rights that seem to be forever fading is a responsibility of every American.  The oppressive methods of “Special Interest Hip Pocket Agencies” who pursue personal gain by engaging the concerns of corporate, affluent Americans may only be stopped by the judiciary system.  Ignoring the interest of the people is only smart if the people allow their freedom to be abridged.  An agency like the TNC may shine on the outside, but they stink on the inside, polluting the future of America.

The Nature Conservancy needs to be given a copy of the “Fifth Amendment”; better yet perhaps someone needs to read it to them: the blind are sometimes able to see with the aid of words.  (A box of Q-tips may be needed to clear their ears so they can hear what is being said.)  I interpret the Fifth Amendment to say that if we the people are kept from our land through the taking of the land that we the people are supposed to be compensated.

Nowhere in the Fifth Amendment does it say “we the people” must do the compensating!

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Grama’s Birthday

By Trudy A. Martinez

Today is not my birthday: that day passed weeks ago but here stood Elijah and Charity, wishing me happy birthday, handing me a present, asking me to open it, gleaming with joy from anticipation.

The package handed me was a work of art:  personality spilled from its hand painted design; each stroke told a story, filling my heart with joy; each color depicted a mood, an emotion sprang from it, leaping at my heartstrings.

There is a cake waiting to be eaten so I had better get along with my story.

“I painted this.”  Elijah exclaimed, smiling as he pointed to his design.  “Charity painted this,” he continued as his words sprang to life in the ears of his little sister standing next to him, waiting her turn to speak.

“Open it Grama”, her words rang out, sprinkling the air with the soft tones of her voice.

“Do you know what it is?”  Elijah queried.

“No,” I replied, “Can you tell me?”

“Can’t tell Grama, Elijah!”  Charity’s reprimanding voice rang out.

“No-O-O-O-O-O.”  Elijah answered, dragging out the one syllable word, lingering it in the air momentarily before he added, “You have to open it, Grama”.

My fingers had already begun to carefully undue the paper from one of the packages.  The paper was unique as it was homemade; the designs were drawings made by Elijah and Charity.  The pictures would make a perfect addition to my refrigerator door that was adorned with such treasures.

My two-prized possession hang from a looped chain that is attached to a magnet on that door:  pacifiers, one blue one and one pink one.  The blue one was given to me by Elijah a few years back.  The pink one was reluctantly given up on Charity’s second birthday.  She was not forced to give it up; she did it willingly but it was difficult decision for her to make.  I remember.  She stood at a distance from me, covering her eyes.  She knew it was her birthday; she knew she was going to give up her infancy with the passing of her prized possession to my refrigerator door and thereafter, ‘patsy’ was to become my prized possession.  My thoughts were suddenly brought back to the present with the sounds of voices:

“Come on, Grama, hurry up–Open it”, Elijah said.

“Open it,” repeated Charity.

“Here,” Elijah added, reaching for the other end of the package, ripping the paper quickly off.  Charity in the meantime, picked up the other package and quickly opened it for me.

“Here, Grama, here’s your present.”

Thanks honey that is a pretty cup.  Why it even has my name on it:  Grama.  It’s a Grama cup.  Elijah just finishing the unwrapping of the other present, proudly held it up for me to admire.

“Do you know what it is, Grama?”

I looked it over.  It looked like a milk carton, but windows had been cut out of each side.  There were also two small holes in each side.  In addition, it had been painted all over with paint, different colors of paint.  There was a stick that was separate but that went with it.  On the top of the structure, a rope like twine was attached to it on both sides.  “Hm mm,” I thought,” I wonder what this beautiful creation is?”  Elijah and Charity eagerly waited for a reply.  I was taking too long to guess and they were extremely anxious to tell me.

“It’s a bird feeder, Grama!”  Charity exclaimed.

“You put seed in here,” Elijah explained“, and then you put the stick through here,” he continued, “And the birds come and eat the seed”.

“They come and eat the seed.”  Charity echoed, smiling.

“It is beautiful”, I said, “I know just the place to hang it.”  We went to the patio, hung the bird feeder, and then, came back inside to watch and wait, but no birds came.

“They’ll come”, Elijah and Charity assured me.  Nevertheless, the birds did not come and Elijah and Charity went home.

A few days later, Kit, my cat, started jumping, running, and acting real crazy.  She would sit at the patio door, swinging her tail back and forth, faster and faster her tail went back and forth.  She was trying to get my attention so I would let her outside.  I opened the blinds and saw that there was a bunch of little visitors in my backyard:  birds were perched on the bird feeder on the little stick that stuck out from the side.  Birds were walking on the ground, picking up the seed that their friends up above were dropping on the ground from the pretty bird feeder that Elijah and Charity made for me.

I immediately called Elijah and Charity on the telephone to tell them about the little visitors.  They were not home.  I left a message.  Here is what I said:

“That beautiful bird feeder you gave me for my birthday has brought joy.  I have lots of birds in my backyard where before there was none.  The birds have been eating the seed and I keep filling it up with more seed because they are very, very, hungry.  Have to go now–just wanted you to know–love you.

Oh yeah, Kit likes it too.  She jumps, runs, and acts real crazy.  She wants to go outside with the birds.  She wants to catch them, but they fly away when they see she is coming out.  Love you–Bye.”

Love Grama Trudy

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No Where to Run

By Trudy A. Martinez

Reassuringly, little voices whispered dramatically,  “It’s okay, Kit, we’re not going to hurt you.”

Kit was asleep when the two surrounded her with the intent of making friends.  Normally, she ran at the sight of them.  Now she was unknowingly cornered.

When the words, “It’s Okay — we’re not going to hurt you.” were repeated in unison.  Kit’s eyes opened.  Obviously, she was not sure what to make of them:  Her ears moved from their normal stance, when their hands reached out for her, to a stressed slicked back position.

They petted her, gently.  Kit’s ears remained down.  “It’s okay,”  they reassured her.  Their words did nothing to change her countenance.  She was stiff and looking for a way to run.

Perhaps she recalled the day before, being cornered and her tail pulled.  The perpetrator of that incident was now gently running her hand from the top of Kit’s head slowly over her thick winter fur to the tip of her tail without tugging.  The question now was:  Was Kit going to relax and take advantage of this freely given affection?

The children continued to assure her that they meant well with each movement of their hands over her body.  It was a slow process, a persuasive process, a winning process.  Kit’s ears relaxed, relinquishing their stress.

Smiling the children exclaimed, “She likes me!  She’s purring,” They added with excitement.  “She’s pur-r-ring.”

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  • Display picture for litlev6  litlev6Hello and thanks for stopping by.. 🙂  I enjoyed your blog and your wit.  I will be back..have a wonderful week Peace

Abandoned and Home Alone

By Trudy A. Martinez

Why does she leave me here alone?  When she leaves, she’s gone for days at a time.  I’m left alone, locked in, feeling sorry for myself.  I mope around and sleep more than I should.  But what is someone to do when your left alone for days on end.  I can’t leave; I can’t reach the door knob; I can’t open it.  I can only sit and look out the window at everyone outside living life to the fullest. 

 I guess you might say, I’m depressed.  How lonely I get.  I tend to get in mischief when I am left alone.  I think I do it just to get back at her for going off.  After all, turn around is fair play.  Isn’t it?  It’s fun to do things you’re not suppose to do.  I remember once, when I was feeling down and a little possessive too, I went upstairs to sit and look out the window at everyone playing on the green grass. 

But when I got to my favorite chair, I found it occupied with a stack of papers.  “That’s my chair!” I exclaimed.  I quickly threw all the papers on the floor.  But I didn’t stop there.  I was still upset because she left me again.  So, I tore the papers into little bits; I shredded them!  I even made sure if she were able to glue them back together she would not be able to read them because I poked them full of holes.  The ink ran on some of the pieces because I put them in my mouth and got them wet. 

Oh was she mad when she saw what I did.  I sure got her attention.  She yelled, “My papers!”

Well, they were her papers and she can have them now.  I had my fun.  I’ll bet she’ll think twice before she puts anything on my chair again.  She was almost in tears; she stood and glared at me; she didn’t even blink.  “Hasn’t she learned by now I can out stare her?” I thought.  It was as if she were getting ready to attack me.  I wasn’t going to back down–I stared back. 

When she reached for me and grabbed me by the back of my neck, I wasn’t scared.  I didn’t yell out; I didn’t fight back.  I did get my motor running though–you know–I started purring.  That always gets her to smile again.  Then, she started petting me.  She loves me no matter how mischievous I am or what I’ve been into.  I love her too.  But I hate it when she leaves me here alone.

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Comments
  • GramaTrudy  Writing this journal entry helped me to work out the pain I was feeling.  It is a lonely pain.  My cat, Kit, went outside (in my backyard) and never came back.  I’ve been teary eyed ever since.  I haven’t been able to concentrate.  I’ve been too sad.  Sometimes my only  contact with anyone is with my cat.  I call her Kit because even though she is full-grown, she is small like a kitten.  I decided to write as if I were her because in a way the tables are turned.  I usually leave her for a few days by herself — now here I am grieving because she has left me here alone.  The process of writing as if I was her made me feel somewhat better.  But there is still an empty place inside me that will never be filled if she doesn’t come back.  I love her as if she were my child.  How could I be so insensitive?  How could I have left her here alone?