1995: The Summer of Our Discontent

A look back at the July 13, 1995 edition of the Lemon Grove Review.  In that summer, 18 years ago, flag-burning was again an issue, desperate Mexicans jumped the border, political recall was alive and well, drunk driving soared, and trailer park habitués were behind on their rent.

But first, the good news:

Lemon Grove Day at the Del Mar Fair:  The Mobile Lemon, also known as "Elizabeth Lemon," debuted as the cutest fruit at the fair, rolling through the crowds with Pete Smith at the wheel and Chamber of Commerce members Paul McCormick Bill Ware, Ann Lazok and Sylvia Williams serving as guides.

Pete suffered as the temperature inside the Mobile Lemon approached 100 degrees.  But the applause was tremendous as was the luncheon tossed by fair potentates for chamber members.

A Pasadena float company built the Mobile Lemon in 1978 for a Honda TV commercial that advised people not to buy a "lemon."  The City of Lemon Grove bought it to use in Old Time Days parades.  Local volunteers, helmed by Paul McCormick, who nicknamed it for his wife, Elizabeth, motorized, painted and re-lettered the "Little Lemon." 

Today, the Mobile Lemon is stored on Massachusetts Avenue awaiting the day when she can roll again to wild applause in local parades.

Twilight's Last Gleaming:  On June 28, 1995 the House passed an anti flag desecration bill, HJR79, by a vote of 312-120, but the Senate rejected its version SJ 31 by a 63-36 vote.  Almost no flags had been burned in 1995, yet the issue surfaced again as a free speech whipping boy.

We like this plain but stirring assessment of our flag's meaning from a World War II D-Day survivor uttered in 1976 during our nation's bicentennial:

"It's a piece of cloth sewn together in stripes and stars and bars. They've got a meaning.  The Bible is just paper, but it's got a meaning.  When they put you in the ground, there's nothing left but bones.  You're nothing but a piece of cloth like the flag, or a piece of paper like the Bible.  Yet you ask your children to believe in you.  You believe in your parents.  And we believe in each other.  We're real.  So why isn't that flag honored?  It's our country."

Some Came Running:  The Mexican peso was devalued at the end of 1994 and illegal migration soared as desperate Mexicans sought work by any means in El Norte.  Operation Gatekeeper in San Ysidro/Otay Mesa, like Operation Hold the Line in El Paso, sought to stem the tide.  

Supervisor Dianne Jacob cited another fatal accident on Route 94 caused by a van crammed with 36 illegal migrants as further reason to establish checkpoints on the 94 "even though checkpoints are only a Band-Aid solution to our illegal immigration problems."

Jacob called for 66 miles of border fencing, lighting, more armed Border Patrol agents--anything and everything to secure our national border in an age of "politically correct" viewpoints and absence of "collective political will."

In May, 1995 alone, some 10,718 illegals were apprehended in East County.  In July, 1995 the U.S population was 265,330,000 of which 24,340,000 were foreign-born.  The U.S. Census Bureau projected 400,000,000 residents by July 2050 and an ever-escalating number of illegal migrants.

Nasty Recall:  When Grossmont School Board trustees Michael Harrington, June Mott and Ada Reep voted on July 6 to assess property owners within a three-mile radius of a high school $9.98 toward maintenance of school facilities used by the public, the peasants revolted.

Many will recall this ugly campaign launched by 10 people, all of whom immediately denied being part of any formal recall petition.  Evidently, they "accidentally" signed the petition because they happened to be standing next to somebody holding the papers.  In other words, have your cake and choke on it, too.

Whence cometh the dreaded California recall?  Governor Hiram Johnson and his band of third-party reformers ("Progressives") added the recall election and initiative process to the state Constitution between 1911 - 1917.

These measures were designed to give citizens greater power to weed out corrupt public officials and make laws.  Alas, the Constitution doesn't specify what "corruption" or "malfeasance" actually are.  Thus, a single, unpopular vote can trigger a recall.

We've all seen recalls in action and they are rarely helpful (though rooting out rotters like Sen. Bob Packwood and Dan Rostenkowski was very helpful).  Lemon Grove's Mayor Robert Burns, writing in the July 13 edition of the Lemon Grove Review, said he didn't oppose the tax, just the process, noting that it should have gone to a public vote.  But, he went on,

"The hue and cry for 'recall' is what really disturbs me…In these hard economic times, there are many decisions that are not pleasant but must be made…Rainy day monies are being spent for survival; infrastructure maintenance is canceled; services are in jeopardy and progress put on hold.

"I…support the board members who have had to deal with this sticky problem.  While I agree with the 'no' voters on the board, the three who voted for the assessment are sincere, selfless and trying to solve the problem of the shortfall.

"…if there were a list of dedicated, altruistic, sincere and possessed of a life history of public service, June Mott would head that list.  As a teacher, humanitarian, civic activist and tireless worker on behalf of others, she has no equal."

Amen.  We knew Mrs. Mott and she was a jewel.

DUI:  Starting July 1, 1995 California's drunk drivers lost their licenses if they drove with a blood alcohol level of .10 percent or higher.  Courts weren't involved.  Once a police officer tested and found a driver guilty of DUI, his or her license was immediately seized.   When the police report went to the DMV, a temporary 45-day permit was issued to the driver.  Upon review the DMV moved swiftly to suspend an offending driver's license.

Paying the Piper:  Trailers and trailer parks, however rundown, are known as "affordable housing."  But when the Lemon Avenue Windmill Trailer Park faced excessive vacancies and unpaid rent, the park owner, COACH (Corporation of Affordable Communities and Houses) asked the City of Lemon Grove for $20,000 to cover operational costs for the next two months -- the rest of the summer of 1995.

In times of full occupancy, COACH got $398,000 from the county to run the park.  But this grant was denied when COACH fell behind on its mortgage and taxes.  COACH had barely a week to float a loan from the city before the grant period expired.  

The Lemon Grove Redevelopment Agency approved the $20,000 loan at six percent interest to be paid off in 18 months.  Remember, dear readers, our City had to prove to federal Housing and Urban Development and State Project Housing that "affordable housing" units were alive and well in Lemon Grove.  Not like there's no pressure or anything.

COACH put a lease-buy deal in place wherein a renter paid his monthly $250 rent plus an extra $20 toward buying the trailer.  And that county grant?  COACH got its check in October 1995 and continued to pay the piper.

And so it went in mid-summer of 1995 when The Big Lemon and its wheeled counterpart sparked brief chuckles in a populace seeking shelter, safety, solace, security, and maybe a modicum of sanity.

About this column:  Compiled by Helen Ofield, president of the Lemon Grove Historical Society, from newspapers archived at the H. Lee House Cultural Center.  Each week, we take a peek at the past with some news and advertising highlights from a randomly chosen edition of the Lemon Grove Review.  In 2012 Ofield was awarded second place in non-daily reporting and writing from the Society of Professional Journalists for the column.