latimes--2020-11-19--Weary but determined, California's small, family-owned farms fight through the pandemic

Vince Bernard loves his trees .
He ’ ll tell you as much .
They are what have sustained him and his family for decades at Bernard Ranches .
Bernard grows mostly citrus with his wife , Vicki , in Riverside , where a pair of navel orange trees planted in 1871 marked the beginning of the area ’ s storied citrus industry .
Now , Vince Bernard is being forced to make some heart-wrenching choices .
What if he can ’ t , because of declining sales due to the COVID-19 pandemic , afford the water to keep all @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like “ cutting your arm off , ” Bernard said , but the financial reality of COVID-19 has forced his hand .
“ I can ’ t turn the water off from the trees and watch them suffer , ” he said , gazing out at housing developments in the distance .
“ But I can call someone up and say , ‘ Bulldoze this 5 acres.
’ ” Bernard ’ s voice shook .
“ I come out and say a prayer .
They ’ re gone.
” The novel coronavirus has @ @ @ @ @ @ @ food industry .
It ’ s been particularly taxing on California ’ s smaller farms , some of which have seen their restaurant orders all but vanish and their farmers markets sales decline because of decreased foot traffic .
Surviving this crisis has meant being nimble , making difficult choices , and having to guess what the demand will be like six months or a year in the future .
I spoke with four farmers who are fighting through the pandemic and doing what they can to make ends meet .
That can @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , like farm boxes , or rethinking what they ’ ve traditionally planted .
It can mean working longer shifts or making the difficult choice to shed assets and fixed costs .
It means depending even more on farmers markets , where growers forge personal and professional connections and which remain , despite the chaos of 2020 , a dependable and much-needed lifeline .
But for most , it means more work for less money .
And the farmers share a dogged hope that sooner rather than later , this country can turn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thing that becomes immediately clear upon meeting Bernard is how much he enjoys his work .
“ We harvest all year , ” he said .
“ The citrus is some of the best in the world — the climate is just perfect for it.
” Bernard Ranches grows navel oranges , varieties of Valencias , limes , lemons and avocados over approximately 50 acres .
Bernard , who grew up on a dairy and has been farming citrus in Riverside since 1984 , spends most of the hot summer months thinking about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ You usually get enough rain in January , February , March .
April is dicey , maybe you ’ ll get a thunderstorm , ” he said .
“ But June , that ’ s the end of that .
No more water comes from Mother Nature .
Water that comes is going to be from you.
” Sometimes , the water bill leaps from $ 2,000 per month into the tens of thousands in the blink of an eye .
“ Last year , we had one month where the bill was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ The king couldn ’ t afford this.
” Compounding the water woes is the loss of business because of the pandemic .
“ It hit us really hard , ” Bernard said .
“ All of our restaurant sales , hotel sales , small store sales , individual people , boom , it went to zero .
We didn ’ t sell a box of lemons for March or April.
” The lack of revenue has forced Bernard to do the unthinkable : cull some of his beloved trees .
The trees @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he said , and they don ’ t stop requiring maintenance simply because fewer people are buying fruit .
“ They ’ re living things , ” Bernard said .
“ They respond to care , they respond to lack of care .
I look to these trees for inspiration a lot of the time.
” Bernard said that he ’ s had about 500 trees removed and that he will likely take out several hundred more .
Despite the heartbreak of losing trees , Bernard said he ’ s determined to survive @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ defiant.
” “ Anybody can do this when it ’ s easy , ” he said .
“ I choose to do it now just to prove myself that I can.
” Debby Takikawa and her husband , Shu , farm 66 acres for The Garden Of ... , their business in the Santa Ynez Valley , and also have a small home farm .
When the coronavirus hit , the toll was harsh and immediate .
“ Restaurant wholesale is about two-thirds of our business , and we lost about 75 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ It was an unimaginable hit.
” To make up for the lost revenue , the Takikawas began producing farm boxes for consumers , but that ’ s required substantially more work and virtually eliminated their profit .
For a 24-piece box of exclusively Little Gem lettuce , she said , “ we cut and pack in the field ; it takes about three minutes to make a box.
” The farm box , by contrast , “ contains one of every single thing that we grow .
The profit margin was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ But it kept us going.
” Filling a farm box means growing nearly twice the variety of products they normally do , Takikawa said .
That ’ s about 18 different things instead of the normal 10 .
“ We had to completely change our planting schedule , ” she said .
“ Little Asian greens and turnips and things that we could get out of the ground quickly.
” The farm also received a $ 250,000 loan from the government ’ s Paycheck Protection Program , which she used for payroll .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ per the program ’ s terms , which is something Takikawa is counting on ( “ If they don ’ t forgive the loan , we ’ ll go belly up .
We ’ ll go bankrupt .
I can ’ t pay it back.
” ) .
She emphasized how grateful she is for the money , but she is concerned about the possible financial burden that will come following an that ordinarily deductible business expenses won ’ t be deductible if paid with PPP funds .
Takikawa is socking away money @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ That ’ s a lot of money .
That ’ s like my total annual income.
” Right now , the 200 or so farm boxes per week that The Garden Of… sells are keeping the business afloat .
Restaurant wholesale numbers are recovering , but Takikawa is bracing for a dip this winter .
“ The real concern is , ‘ Oh my God .
What are we going to do if we have a big spike [ in infections ] again ?
, ’ she said .
“ Just @ @ @ @ @ @ @ life and stop thinking about the day when you can take it off.
” To get through the pandemic , “ it ’ s going to take everybody playing the game , ” she added .
In spite of the difficulty , Takikawa said she ’ s noticed the farming and food community banding together to make it through .
( “ There are people who will buy that extra box of lettuce.
” ) “ Anybody who has any kind of resiliency or resource has shared it , ” she said .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ you see that and you can ’ t fix it .
But I think people hold together in this kind of crisis.
” “ If we all don ’ t survive , none of us will , ” she said .
Kong Thao of estimates his income is split roughly 60/40 between restaurant sales and table sales at the farmers market , respectively .
Breaking that down further , he estimates that he ’ s lost about 70 % of his restaurant sales because of COVID-19 , and he ’ s doing half @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from the markets because of decreased foot traffic .
And making less than half your usual money doesn ’ t work as a business model .
“ You can ’ t cut half your costs , ” he said .
He started doing farm boxes , but he recently stopped , deciding it just wasn ’ t worth it .
“ My whole family , we ’ re already overworked , ” he said .
“ You ’ re working more and you ’ re really making less.
” As a result of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , who work a 25-acre farm in Fresno , have taken a step back .
They ’ re reducing late winter plantings — the cabbage , broccoli and cauliflower that you ’ d usually see .
Instead of seven staggered plantings of a crop , they ’ ll do only four , and they ’ ll pick only what they can sell .
Thao doesn ’ t rent land or equipment , so he can take this time to be at home more — and think about what he and his family want @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ I ask myself , ‘ Is it really worth it ?
’ ” he said .
“ Yeah , we can make it through .
But how long do you want to do this for ?
” Farming is in Romeo Coleman ’ s blood .
His father started Coleman Family Farms in Carpinteria in 1963 , and Romeo began working full-time on the farm in 1996 .
Even during this difficult time , he is thankful for the work he does .
“ I ’ m in the right business @ @ @ @ @ @ @ just have to work a little harder to find a way to get it to them , ” he said .
I asked Coleman what the biggest help is as far as keeping people like him going .
“ Just make sure the farmers markets stay open , ” he said .
Coleman attends the Wednesday and Saturday markets in Santa Monica and has nothing but praise for how they ’ ve handled the pandemic .
“ The management team there really worked their butts off to make sure it stayed open , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ business model has made pivoting during the pandemic a challenge .
He grows relatively small quantities of a large number of items , some of which are specialized : things like shiso , epazote , papalo and edible garnishes .
“ Borage flowers , that ’ s not something you ’ d usually see in a farm box , ” he said .
Changing to be “ a farm box farm , ” as he puts it , takes time .
“ You can ’ t just go , ‘ Oh , yeah @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for you here in my back pocket.
’ ” While his restaurant sales have recovered slightly , he said , he ’ s nervous about the recent tightening of restrictions in Europe .
( “ I don ’ t think that bodes well for us.
” ) The farmers markets , he said , are the real lifeline for him , his seven full-time employees and four part-time employees .
His table sales are “ the same or better ” as they used to be .
Without that business , “ we ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ basically.
” But if the markets can stay open , regardless of whatever shutdown may or may not occur in the future , that will give Coleman a better shot at making it through this time .
“ That would help me out a lot , ” he said .
“ I ’ m not afraid of working.
” Bernard Ranches sells at local farmers markets , including Wednesdays in Santa Monica , Saturdays in Pasadena and Sundays in Long Beach and Beverly Hills , and online at www.fruitguys.com .
On Instagram .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ markets , including Saturdays in Santa Monica and Torrance , Sundays in Hollywood and Tuesdays in Torrance .
On Instagram at .
The Garden Of… sells at local farmers markets , including Sundays in Hollywood , Saturdays in Santa Barbara and on Wednesdays in Santa Monica .
On Instagram .
Coleman Family Farms sells at local farmers markets , including Wednesdays and Saturdays in Santa Monica .
On Instagram .

Vince Bernard inspects star ruby grapefruit at Bernard Ranches in Riverside. He and other small family-owned farms have taken a big financial hit due to the pandemic.
Vince Bernard loves his trees. He’ll tell you as much. They are what have sustained him and his family for decades at Bernard Ranches. Bernard grows mostly citrus with his wife, Vicki, in Riverside, where a pair of navel orange trees planted in 1871 marked the beginning of the area’s storied citrus industry.
Now, Vince Bernard is being forced to make some heart-wrenching choices. What if he can’t, because of declining sales due to the COVID-19 pandemic, afford the water to keep all his trees alive?
Sacrificing trees is like “cutting your arm off,” Bernard said, but the financial reality of COVID-19 has forced his hand.
“I can’t turn the water off from the trees and watch them suffer,” he said, gazing out at housing developments in the distance. “But I can call someone up and say, ‘Bulldoze this 5 acres.’” Bernard’s voice shook. “I come out and say a prayer. They’re gone.”
Advertisement
The novel coronavirus has wreaked havoc on every aspect of the food industry. It’s been particularly taxing on California’s smaller farms, some of which have seen their restaurant orders all but vanish and their farmers markets sales decline because of decreased foot traffic.
Surviving this crisis has meant being nimble, making difficult choices, and having to guess what the demand will be like six months or a year in the future. I spoke with four farmers who are fighting through the pandemic and doing what they can to make ends meet.
That can mean pivoting to other forms of business, like farm boxes, or rethinking what they’ve traditionally planted. It can mean working longer shifts or making the difficult choice to shed assets and fixed costs. It means depending even more on farmers markets, where growers forge personal and professional connections and which remain, despite the chaos of 2020, a dependable and much-needed lifeline.
But for most, it means more work for less money. And the farmers share a dogged hope that sooner rather than later, this country can turn a corner regarding the pandemic.
Kishu tangerines growing at Bernard Ranches in Riverside. (Allen J. Schaben/Los Angeles Times)
The thing that becomes immediately clear upon meeting Bernard is how much he enjoys his work. “We harvest all year,” he said. “The citrus is some of the best in the world — the climate is just perfect for it.” Bernard Ranches grows navel oranges, varieties of Valencias, limes, lemons and avocados over approximately 50 acres.
Bernard, who grew up on a dairy and has been farming citrus in Riverside since 1984, spends most of the hot summer months thinking about water and its increasing cost. “You usually get enough rain in January, February, March. April is dicey, maybe you’ll get a thunderstorm,” he said. “But June, that’s the end of that. No more water comes from Mother Nature. Water that comes is going to be from you.”
Sometimes, the water bill leaps from $2,000 per month into the tens of thousands in the blink of an eye. “Last year, we had one month where the bill was $32,000,” Bernard said. “The king couldn’t afford this.”
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Compounding the water woes is the loss of business because of the pandemic. “It hit us really hard,” Bernard said. “All of our restaurant sales, hotel sales, small store sales, individual people, boom, it went to zero. We didn’t sell a box of lemons for March or April.”
The lack of revenue has forced Bernard to do the unthinkable: cull some of his beloved trees.
The trees, like people, have needs, he said, and they don’t stop requiring maintenance simply because fewer people are buying fruit. “They’re living things,” Bernard said. “They respond to care, they respond to lack of care. I look to these trees for inspiration a lot of the time.”
Bernard said that he’s had about 500 trees removed and that he will likely take out several hundred more. Despite the heartbreak of losing trees, Bernard said he’s determined to survive the pandemic, describing his attitude as “defiant.”
“Anybody can do this when it’s easy,” he said. “I choose to do it now just to prove myself that I can.”
Ky Takikawa organizes produce at The Garden Of... stand at the Santa Monica Farmers Market. The produce is from his parents Debby and Shu Takikawa’s farm. (Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)
Debby Takikawa and her husband, Shu, farm 66 acres for The Garden Of..., their business in the Santa Ynez Valley, and also have a small home farm. When the coronavirus hit, the toll was harsh and immediate. “Restaurant wholesale is about two-thirds of our business, and we lost about 75% of that,” she said. “It was an unimaginable hit.”
To make up for the lost revenue, the Takikawas began producing farm boxes for consumers, but that’s required substantially more work and virtually eliminated their profit. For a 24-piece box of exclusively Little Gem lettuce, she said, “we cut and pack in the field; it takes about three minutes to make a box.” The farm box, by contrast, “contains one of every single thing that we grow. The profit margin was nonexistent,” she said. “But it kept us going.”
Filling a farm box means growing nearly twice the variety of products they normally do, Takikawa said. That’s about 18 different things instead of the normal 10. “We had to completely change our planting schedule,” she said. “Little Asian greens and turnips and things that we could get out of the ground quickly.”
The farm also received a $250,000 loan from the government’s Paycheck Protection Program, which she used for payroll. The loan will likely be forgiven, per the program’s terms, which is something Takikawa is counting on (“If they don’t forgive the loan, we’ll go belly up. We’ll go bankrupt. I can’t pay it back.”). She emphasized how grateful she is for the money, but she is concerned about the possible financial burden that will come following an IRS announcement that ordinarily deductible business expenses won’t be deductible if paid with PPP funds.
Takikawa is socking away money and bracing for a possible tax bill. “That’s a lot of money. That’s like my total annual income.”
Right now, the 200 or so farm boxes per week that The Garden Of… sells are keeping the business afloat. Restaurant wholesale numbers are recovering, but Takikawa is bracing for a dip this winter. “The real concern is, ‘Oh my God. What are we going to do if we have a big spike [in infections] again?,’ she said.
“Just let that mask be a way of life and stop thinking about the day when you can take it off.” To get through the pandemic, “it’s going to take everybody playing the game,” she added.
In spite of the difficulty, Takikawa said she’s noticed the farming and food community banding together to make it through. (“There are people who will buy that extra box of lettuce.”)
“Anybody who has any kind of resiliency or resource has shared it,” she said. “Some people go under, and you see that and you can’t fix it. But I think people hold together in this kind of crisis.”
“If we all don’t survive, none of us will,” she said.
Kong Thao in a cucumber hothouse at Thao Family Farm in Fresno in 2017. (Noah Galuten)
Kong Thao of Thao Family Farm estimates his income is split roughly 60/40 between restaurant sales and table sales at the farmers market, respectively. Breaking that down further, he estimates that he’s lost about 70% of his restaurant sales because of COVID-19, and he’s doing half of the table sales he used to from the markets because of decreased foot traffic.
And making less than half your usual money doesn’t work as a business model. “You can’t cut half your costs,” he said.
He started doing farm boxes, but he recently stopped, deciding it just wasn’t worth it.
“My whole family, we’re already overworked,” he said. “You’re working more and you’re really making less.”
As a result of the uncertainty, Thao and his family, who work a 25-acre farm in Fresno, have taken a step back. They’re reducing late winter plantings — the cabbage, broccoli and cauliflower that you’d usually see. Instead of seven staggered plantings of a crop, they’ll do only four, and they’ll pick only what they can sell.
Thao doesn’t rent land or equipment, so he can take this time to be at home more — and think about what he and his family want, and what the future could hold.
“I ask myself, ‘Is it really worth it?’” he said. “Yeah, we can make it through. But how long do you want to do this for?”
Romeo Coleman, of Coleman Family Farms, waits for customers at the Santa Monica Farmers Market. (Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)
Farming is in Romeo Coleman’s blood. His father started Coleman Family Farms in Carpinteria in 1963, and Romeo began working full-time on the farm in 1996. Even during this difficult time, he is thankful for the work he does. “I’m in the right business — people have to eat — I just have to work a little harder to find a way to get it to them,” he said.
I asked Coleman what the biggest help is as far as keeping people like him going.
“Just make sure the farmers markets stay open,” he said. Coleman attends the Wednesday and Saturday markets in Santa Monica and has nothing but praise for how they’ve handled the pandemic. “The management team there really worked their butts off to make sure it stayed open,” he said.
Coleman’s business model has made pivoting during the pandemic a challenge. He grows relatively small quantities of a large number of items, some of which are specialized: things like shiso, epazote, papalo and edible garnishes. “Borage flowers, that’s not something you’d usually see in a farm box,” he said.
Changing to be “a farm box farm,” as he puts it, takes time. “You can’t just go, ‘Oh, yeah, carrots. Let me get them for you here in my back pocket.’”
While his restaurant sales have recovered slightly, he said, he’s nervous about the recent tightening of restrictions in Europe. (“I don’t think that bodes well for us.”)
The farmers markets, he said, are the real lifeline for him, his seven full-time employees and four part-time employees. His table sales are “the same or better” as they used to be. Without that business, “we’re thrown out to the wolves, basically.”
But if the markets can stay open, regardless of whatever shutdown may or may not occur in the future, that will give Coleman a better shot at making it through this time.
“That would help me out a lot,” he said. “I’m not afraid of working.”
Bernard Ranches sells at local farmers markets, including Wednesdays in Santa Monica, Saturdays in Pasadena and Sundays in Long Beach and Beverly Hills, and online at www.fruitguys.com. On Instagram @bernardranches .
Thao Family Farm sells at local farmers markets, including Saturdays in Santa Monica and Torrance, Sundays in Hollywood and Tuesdays in Torrance. On Instagram at @kongthao03 .
The Garden Of… sells at local farmers markets, including Sundays in Hollywood, Saturdays in Santa Barbara and on Wednesdays in Santa Monica. On Instagram @the_garden_of_ .


latimes--2020-11-21--San Diego County reports record number of new COVID-19 cases

San Diego County health officials on Friday reported 1,091 new coronavirus cases , a single-day record , with county hospitals hitting 76 % of total capacity .
The surge puts hospitals near the 80 % level that could require reductions in the number of elective procedures they can perform , according to Friday ’ s report .
County officials have said that 20 % of capacity should be preserved to provide a buffer for treating any sudden surge in COVID-19 cases .
Dr. Wilma Wooten , the county ’ s public health officer , plans to meet with hospital representatives @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for additional action , ” according to a county spokesperson .
In addition , 73 % of the county ’ s intensive care beds were filled , according to the report .
Some hospitals are already nearing capacity .
At Sharp Chula Vista Medical Center , 90 % of staffed beds are now occupied , about half of those by COVID-19 patients , officials said .
Scripps Mercy Hospital Chula Vista reported an 83 % occupancy rate in its ICU , with nine of 20 beds occupied by COVID-19 patients .
Dr. Andres @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Vista , said his team had readied an overflow tent in the hospital ’ s parking lot on Wednesday .
“ We didn ’ t end up needing to use it that night , but it came close , ” Smith said .
Dr. Kristi Koenig , medical director of the San Diego County Emergency Medical System , said Friday evening that she has also started to see signs of additional stress on local emergency rooms .
“ I am definitely concerned with what we see right now , because we know that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have seen , it is only a matter of time before we see that translate to more hospital impact , ” Koenig said .
Her office , she said , keeps a close eye on the equipment and materials , staff and facilities needed to treat a surge of patients .
At the moment , she said , staffing is the biggest concern .
“ Some people are sick , and some people are just burnt out and exhausted , ” she said , noting that surging hospital admissions across the nation have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ who might otherwise be available in the local workforce .
Occupancy has a very real effect not only on those patients with COVID-19 but on those who have severe illnesses unrelated to the coronavirus , officials said .
In the spring , Wooten ordered all local hospitals to reduce non-emergency care as much as possible to make sure there was enough capacity to treat an expected wave of hospital admissions .

Vivianna Hernandez monitors a COVID-19 test at Cal State San Marcos, one of the busiest testing centers in San Diego County
San Diego County health officials on Friday reported 1,091 new coronavirus cases, a single-day record, with county hospitals hitting 76% of total capacity.
The surge puts hospitals near the 80% level that could require reductions in the number of elective procedures they can perform, according to Friday’s report. County officials have said that 20% of capacity should be preserved to provide a buffer for treating any sudden surge in COVID-19 cases.
Dr. Wilma Wooten, the county’s public health officer, plans to meet with hospital representatives on Monday to “discuss the potential for additional action,” according to a county spokesperson.
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In addition, 73% of the county’s intensive care beds were filled, according to the report.
Some hospitals are already nearing capacity. At Sharp Chula Vista Medical Center, 90% of staffed beds are now occupied, about half of those by COVID-19 patients, officials said. Scripps Mercy Hospital Chula Vista reported an 83% occupancy rate in its ICU, with nine of 20 beds occupied by COVID-19 patients.
Dr. Andres Smith, emergency director at Sharp Chula Vista, said his team had readied an overflow tent in the hospital’s parking lot on Wednesday.
“We didn’t end up needing to use it that night, but it came close,” Smith said.
Dr. Kristi Koenig, medical director of the San Diego County Emergency Medical System, said Friday evening that she has also started to see signs of additional stress on local emergency rooms.
“I am definitely concerned with what we see right now, because we know that, with the increases in cases we have seen, it is only a matter of time before we see that translate to more hospital impact,” Koenig said.
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Her office, she said, keeps a close eye on the equipment and materials, staff and facilities needed to treat a surge of patients. At the moment, she said, staffing is the biggest concern.
“Some people are sick, and some people are just burnt out and exhausted,” she said, noting that surging hospital admissions across the nation have also drawn experts to the East Coast who might otherwise be available in the local workforce.
Occupancy has a very real effect not only on those patients with COVID-19 but on those who have severe illnesses unrelated to the coronavirus, officials said.
In the spring, Wooten ordered all local hospitals to reduce non-emergency care as much as possible to make sure there was enough capacity to treat an expected wave of hospital admissions.


latimes--2020-11-21--Video visits rolling out at five California state prisons

Five California state prisons are rolling out video visitation programs as in-person visits remain suspended due to the COVID-19 pandemic .
The prisons — San Quentin State Prison , California Institution for Men , Mule Creek State Prison , Valley State Prison and Central California Women ’ s Facility — will start offering video visits Nov. 28 , the state Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation said in a news release .
Each eligible inmate will receive a free 30-minute video visit every 30 days , the department said .
The video visits will take place on weekends and holidays .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ necessary equipment and internet access .
The corrections department hopes to expand video visits to all state prisons by the end of the year , Secretary Kathleen Allison said in a statement .
“ Since families can not connect in person yet , I want them to be able to connect in real-time , and see and talk to one another remotely until in-person visiting can safely reopen , ” she said .
The move comes as coronavirus cases have been steadily rising at state prisons , mirroring a trend seen in the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ cases among people incarcerated in state prisons as of Saturday , compared with a systemwide low of 283 active cases among inmates last month , according to the corrections department .
More than 18,000 cases have been reported among inmates in state prisons since the start of the coronavirus crisis , and 83 people have died , according to The Times ’ tracker .
In-person visiting has been suspended at state prisons since March 11 .

A correctional officer stands at the main gate of San Quentin State Prison in July in San Quentin, Calif.
Five California state prisons are rolling out video visitation programs as in-person visits remain suspended due to the COVID-19 pandemic.
The prisons — San Quentin State Prison, California Institution for Men, Mule Creek State Prison, Valley State Prison and Central California Women’s Facility — will start offering video visits Nov. 28, the state Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation said in a news release. Each eligible inmate will receive a free 30-minute video visit every 30 days, the department said.
The video visits will take place on weekends and holidays. Visitors must make reservations and have the necessary equipment and internet access.
The corrections department hopes to expand video visits to all state prisons by the end of the year, Secretary Kathleen Allison said in a statement.
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“Since families cannot connect in person yet, I want them to be able to connect in real-time, and see and talk to one another remotely until in-person visiting can safely reopen,” she said.
The move comes as coronavirus cases have been steadily rising at state prisons, mirroring a trend seen in the general population. There were 2,240 active cases among people incarcerated in state prisons as of Saturday, compared with a systemwide low of 283 active cases among inmates last month, according to the corrections department.
More than 18,000 cases have been reported among inmates in state prisons since the start of the coronavirus crisis, and 83 people have died, according to The Times’ tracker.
In-person visiting has been suspended at state prisons since March 11.


latimes--2020-11-21--Lopez: Want to be a civil service millionaire? Apply today to the L.A. Fire Department

It turns out that at the Los Angeles Fire Department , coronavirus testing duty isn ’ t the only way to make a small fortune in overtime pay .
Last month , when I wrote about firefighters who had raked in as much as $ 200,000 in overtime pay at testing sites , story leads began trickling into my mailbox .
And one tipster told me about the jackpot available to those who work in the division that inspects fire safety systems in buildings under construction .
That was an understatement .
I checked payroll records on two inspectors , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with the massive amounts of overtime pay they hauled in , their total compensation since January of 2018 was roughly $ 1 million each .
Not bad , right ?
On average , California doctors don ’ t earn that much .
But in the Los Angeles Fire Department , there ’ s a long tradition of overtime pay being there for the taking .
In a citywide overtime audit by City Controller Ron Galperin , LAFD topped all departments in the 2018-19 fiscal year , with 3 million hours of overtime and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ To quickly review last month ’ s column , it described how some firefighters working at coronavirus test sites make “ more in a month than a teacher makes in a year , ” as one critic inside the department put it .
Fire department officials and a deputy in Mayor Eric Garcetti ’ s office defended the overtime payouts , even though firefighters aren ’ t even doing the testing .
City leaders argued that the testing is vital , public health is paramount and much of the payout will be reimbursed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , it ’ s taxpayer money .
And in a single month , one fire captain made more than $ 70,000 in overtime pay , much of it on COVID detail .
I checked the records of 25 firefighters who split $ 2.7 million in overtime pay between them between March and October , an average of more than $ 100,000 apiece .
As I reported , a civilian whistleblower wrote a letter challenging the legitimacy of some overtime claims .
When my column ran , both Galperin and LAFD Chief Ralph Terrazas @ @ @ @ @ @ @ On Friday , a spokesperson for Galperin and another for the Fire Department told me those reviews are ongoing .
So now let ’ s move on to overtime pay for building inspections .
When a commercial building or large apartment or condo project is under construction in Los Angeles , contractors and developers have to satisfy a long list of safety codes , so inspectors from LAFD make frequent visits to examine various fire safety systems .
But with dozens and sometimes hundreds of buildings going up , there can be a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is where the overtime comes in .
A contractor can request what ’ s referred to as an “ emergency , ” or “ off-hours ” inspection , and an inspector will come out before or after a regular shift or on weekends .
This speedier service comes at a premium price .
Instead of the normal $ 254 hourly cost to the contractor , the off-hours fee is $ 362 an hour , with a minimum payment of $ 940 , according to documents provided by the department .
One developer who @ @ @ @ @ @ @ me this cost of doing business in the city of Los Angeles can add up .
I asked how much he shells out in off-hours inspection fees .
“ Maybe $ 20,000 or $ 30,000 a year , ” he told me .
Thanks to a generous provision agreed to by city officials , an inspector who does an off-hours inspection is guaranteed a minimum of four hours of pay , according to a memorandum of understanding between the firefighters ’ union and the city , at time-and-a-half , even if the inspection @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The last few I ’ ve had have taken 20 minutes , ” one contractor told me .
“ They ’ re in and out.
” And yet each time , the contractor has to fork over the $ 940 minimum .
A review of LAFD overtime records reveals multiple cases of inspectors doing one or more off-hours inspections on the same day they work their regular 10-hour shifts .
This overtime work , along with other types of overtime , make it fairly common for firefighters to earn more in overtime than @ @ @ @ @ @ @ currently has 13 inspectors , and I ’ ve just begun digging in while waiting to hear back from LAFD officials on the total amount of off-hours overtime payouts .
In the meantime , I ’ ve looked at payroll records for the two inspectors I mentioned , and I ’ m withholding their names for now as I await a return call from them .
One of them has made $ 606,775.99 in overtime alone since January of 2018 , much of it from off-hours inspections .
Over that period , he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ two-week period , which doesn ’ t seem to leave much time for eating or sleeping .
Strike up the band , because his take-home grand total is just above $ 1 million .
The other inspector has made $ 578,028 in overtime alone over that same period and averaged 89.5 hours of overtime every pay period .
Add regular pay and his grand total , for just under three years of work , is $ 985,150 .
I ’ m not saying either of them , or anyone else , is doing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ comes from private developers rather than taxpayers .
But the four-hour minimum pay requirement is outrageous , and if you ’ re wondering how something like that gets approved , it ’ s pretty simple .
The firefighters ’ union is one of the most powerful political forces in Los Angeles .
In a quick review of campaign donations , you ’ ll see that United Firefighters of Los Angeles City , or UFLAC , as its known , has been extremely kind to city officials , many of whom have eagerly waved @ @ @ @ @ @ @ them .
An interview request to the union was answered with an email comment .
“ The United Firefighters of Los Angeles City supports hiring more fire inspectors — just as we support hiring more firefighters.
” And you can ’ t blame the union for getting everything it can .
The blame lies with city officials who don ’ t push back , and who apparently don ’ t question an inspection system that seems full of opportunities for abuse , and seems unfair to firefighters not on the gravy train as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ t afford to pay the overtime and have to wait longer for inspections .
In effect , the contractor who can afford off-hours fees is making an indirect payment to an inspector , above and beyond what that inspector ’ s salary is .
And that raises all sorts of integrity issues .
“ It is really a very corruptible system , ” one LAFD official told me .
“ It ’ s almost like hiring them as a consultant , so they come out and they sign you off because they @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sites and don ’ t care if you show up for only 10 minutes.
” LAFD Fire Marshal Kristin Crowley told me she is unaware of anything improper going on , and if anyone knows otherwise , she ’ d like to hear about it .
She defended the off-hours process , saying that sometimes inspections must be done quickly before a building is occupied to check power supplies , elevators , emergency lighting systems and other safety features .
Crowley told me the construction inspection unit tries to avoid giving preferential treatment @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
She also said that the target turnaround time for any inspection is within three days of the request , and her staff hits that goal 85 % of the time .
Even so , I told Crowley , if inspectors are logging 40 or more hours of overtime a week , they ’ ve got to be exhausted .
If they can barely keep their eyes open , is it safe to have them signing off on fire safety systems in high-rises and other buildings , where hundreds of people could be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ said that ’ s a valid concern , but she tries to make sure her staffers can handle the load and stay healthy at work and at home .
Not all cities offer “ emergency ” inspections , one contractor told me .
And although he doesn ’ t like having to fork over the inflated off-hours inspection fee , he prefers L.A. ’ s system because construction can be delayed while waiting for an inspection approval , and delays cost him money .
But there ’ s an obvious and less corruptible @ @ @ @ @ @ @ can stagger starting times for inspectors and schedule some of them on weekends , so inspectors would be available before and after regular working hours .
Or the department could simply add enough inspectors to cover the demand .
Crowley said she can “ honestly say we ’ re understaffed , ” especially with so much construction under way in Los Angeles .
She told me she has asked for additional personnel , but budget constraints seem to have gotten in the way .
Sure enough , city officials have presided over a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s a far greater chance of layoffs than of hiring .
But in the Fire Department , current staffing levels offer one great advantage .
There ’ s plenty of overtime to go around .

It turns out that at the Los Angeles Fire Department, coronavirus testing duty isn’t the only way to make a small fortune in overtime pay.
Last month, when I wrote about firefighters who had raked in as much as $200,000 in overtime pay at testing sites, story leads began trickling into my mailbox. And one tipster told me about the jackpot available to those who work in the division that inspects fire safety systems in buildings under construction.
That was an understatement.
I checked payroll records on two inspectors, and when you combine their regular salaries with the massive amounts of overtime pay they hauled in, their total compensation since January of 2018 was roughly $1 million each.
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Not bad, right? On average, California doctors don’t earn that much.
But in the Los Angeles Fire Department, there’s a long tradition of overtime pay being there for the taking. In a citywide overtime audit by City Controller Ron Galperin, LAFD topped all departments in the 2018-19 fiscal year, with 3 million hours of overtime and $192 million in overtime pay.
To quickly review last month’s column, it described how some firefighters working at coronavirus test sites make “more in a month than a teacher makes in a year,” as one critic inside the department put it.
Fire Department officials and a deputy in Mayor Eric Garcetti’s office defended the overtime payouts, even though firefighters aren’t even doing the testing. City leaders argued that the testing is vital, public health is paramount and much of the payout will be reimbursed by federal emergency funding.
Either way, it’s taxpayer money. And in a single month, one fire captain made more than $70,000 in overtime pay, much of it on COVID detail. I checked the records of 25 firefighters who split $2.7 million in overtime pay between them between March and October, an average of more than $100,000 apiece.
As I reported, a civilian whistleblower wrote a letter challenging the legitimacy of some overtime claims. When my column ran, both Galperin and LAFD Chief Ralph Terrazas told me they would conduct reviews. On Friday, a spokesperson for Galperin and another for the Fire Department told me those reviews are ongoing.
So now let’s move on to overtime pay for building inspections.
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When a commercial building or large apartment or condo project is under construction in Los Angeles, contractors and developers have to satisfy a long list of safety codes, so inspectors from LAFD make frequent visits to examine various fire safety systems.
But with dozens and sometimes hundreds of buildings going up, there can be a backlog of inspection requests, and this is where the overtime comes in. A contractor can request what’s referred to as an “emergency,” or “off-hours” inspection, and an inspector will come out before or after a regular shift or on weekends.
This speedier service comes at a premium price. Instead of the normal $254 hourly cost to the contractor, the off-hours fee is $362 an hour, with a minimum payment of $940, according to documents provided by the department.
One developer who has multiple projects in the works told me this cost of doing business in the city of Los Angeles can add up. I asked how much he shells out in off-hours inspection fees.
“Maybe $20,000 or $30,000 a year,” he told me.
Thanks to a generous provision agreed to by city officials, an inspector who does an off-hours inspection is guaranteed a minimum of four hours of pay, according to a memorandum of understanding between the firefighters’ union and the city, at time-and-a-half, even if the inspection takes only a few minutes.
“The last few I’ve had have taken 20 minutes,” one contractor told me. “They’re in and out.”
And yet each time, the contractor has to fork over the $940 minimum.
A review of LAFD overtime records reveals multiple cases of inspectors doing one or more off-hours inspections on the same day they work their regular 10-hour shifts. This overtime work, along with other types of overtime, make it fairly common for firefighters to earn more in overtime than in regular pay.
The inspections unit currently has 13 inspectors, and I’ve just begun digging in while waiting to hear back from LAFD officials on the total amount of off-hours overtime payouts. In the meantime, I’ve looked at payroll records for the two inspectors I mentioned, and I’m withholding their names for now as I await a return call from them.
One of them has made $606,775.99 in overtime alone since January of 2018, much of it from off-hours inspections. Over that period, he has averaged 148.8 hours of overtime every two-week period, which doesn’t seem to leave much time for eating or sleeping. Strike up the band, because his take-home grand total is just above $1 million.
The other inspector has made $578,028 in overtime alone over that same period and averaged 89.5 hours of overtime every pay period. Add regular pay and his grand total, for just under three years of work, is $985,150.
I’m not saying either of them, or anyone else, is doing anything improper. And the overtime pay comes from private developers rather than taxpayers.
But the four-hour minimum pay requirement is outrageous, and if you’re wondering how something like that gets approved, it’s pretty simple.
The firefighters’ union is one of the most powerful political forces in Los Angeles. In a quick review of campaign donations, you’ll see that United Firefighters of Los Angeles City, or UFLAC, as its known, has been extremely kind to city officials, many of whom have eagerly waved around the union’s endorsement of them. An interview request to the union was answered with an email comment. “The United Firefighters of Los Angeles City supports hiring more fire inspectors — just as we support hiring more firefighters.”
And you can’t blame the union for getting everything it can. The blame lies with city officials who don’t push back, and who apparently don’t question an inspection system that seems full of opportunities for abuse, and seems unfair to firefighters not on the gravy train as well as to smalltime developers who can’t afford to pay the overtime and have to wait longer for inspections.
In effect, the contractor who can afford off-hours fees is making an indirect payment to an inspector, above and beyond what that inspector’s salary is. And that raises all sorts of integrity issues.
“It is really a very corruptible system,” one LAFD official told me. “It’s almost like hiring them as a consultant, so they come out and they sign you off because they know you have so many other job sites and don’t care if you show up for only 10 minutes.”
LAFD Fire Marshal Kristin Crowley told me she is unaware of anything improper going on, and if anyone knows otherwise, she’d like to hear about it. She defended the off-hours process, saying that sometimes inspections must be done quickly before a building is occupied to check power supplies, elevators, emergency lighting systems and other safety features.
Crowley told me the construction inspection unit tries to avoid giving preferential treatment to any contractor, large or small. She also said that the target turnaround time for any inspection is within three days of the request, and her staff hits that goal 85% of the time.
Even so, I told Crowley, if inspectors are logging 40 or more hours of overtime a week, they’ve got to be exhausted. If they can barely keep their eyes open, is it safe to have them signing off on fire safety systems in high-rises and other buildings, where hundreds of people could be at risk in an emergency?
Crowley said that’s a valid concern, but she tries to make sure her staffers can handle the load and stay healthy at work and at home.
Not all cities offer “emergency” inspections, one contractor told me. And although he doesn’t like having to fork over the inflated off-hours inspection fee, he prefers L.A.’s system because construction can be delayed while waiting for an inspection approval, and delays cost him money.
But there’s an obvious and less corruptible way to go. The Fire Department can stagger starting times for inspectors and schedule some of them on weekends, so inspectors would be available before and after regular working hours. Or the department could simply add enough inspectors to cover the demand.
Crowley said she can “honestly say we’re understaffed,” especially with so much construction under way in Los Angeles. She told me she has asked for additional personnel, but budget constraints seem to have gotten in the way.
Sure enough, city officials have presided over a deepening financial crisis, and there’s a far greater chance of layoffs than of hiring.
But in the Fire Department, current staffing levels offer one great advantage.
There’s plenty of overtime to go around.
Steve.lopez@latimes.com


latimes--2020-11-21--California's new stay-at-home order now in effect: What you need to know

A modified stay-at-home order goes into effect for much of California as of Saturday morning , part of a new effort to slow the rapid spread of the coronavirus .
Here are the details of the order : • Prohibits most nonessential activity outside the home from 10 p.m. to 5 a.m. in .
Activities banned include all gatherings with members of other households and all activities conducted outside one ’ s residence , lodging or temporary accommodation with members of other households .
• Allows people to leave home to walk their dog or take walks with people they @ @ @ @ @ @ @ up drugs at the pharmacy late at night , pick up or receive takeout food , travel to the emergency room or urgent care or for other essential purposes ; • Lasts through Dec. 21 , though it could be extended .
• Does not apply to people experiencing homelessness .
Nothing in the order prevents any number of people from the same household from leaving their residence , lodging or temporary accommodation , as long as they do not engage in any interaction with ( or otherwise gather with ) any number @ @ @ @ @ @ @ except as specifically permitted by .
• The restrictions are different from the statewide stay-at-home order Gov .
Gavin Newsom issued in mid-March , in that they focus more on curbing late-night drinking and group gatherings .
• Californians in the affected counties will still be allowed in the overnight hours to buy groceries , walk the dog , pick up restaurant takeout orders , visit doctors or other healthcare providers and other providers of essential services .
• The order covers roughly 94 % of Californians — 37 million people — who @ @ @ @ @ @ @ purple tier , the most restrictive in the state ’ s reopening plan .
In purple tier counties , the restrictions have forced many businesses to suspend or severely restrict the number of customers allowed indoors .
On Friday , L.A. County imposed its own new rules .
They include , from the order : • For nonessential businesses permitted to operate indoors — including retail stores , offices , personal care services — occupancy will be limited to 25 % maximum capacity .
• The number of patrons at outdoor restaurants , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 50 % of the maximum outdoor capacity .
• The number of customers at outdoor cardrooms , mini-golf , go-karts and batting cages will be limited to 50 % maximum outdoor capacity .
• Services at personal care establishments may be provided only by appointment to customers wearing face coverings by staff wearing face coverings .
Those that require either the customer or the staff to remove their face covering , such as facials and shaves , are not permitted .
Food and drinks can not be served at these establishments to customers @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and all other retail establishments deemed nonessential must close their doors to the public from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m .
But they can continue to offer takeout and delivery service during those hours .
With COVID-19 spreading at a rapid rate , officials have warned that other public health interventions may become necessary to stem transmission .
For the seven-day period that ended Friday , an average of 10,981 people in California were reported to be infected daily — a number that has more than doubled in just the last two weeks @ @ @ @ @ @ @ peak in the summer , which until now had been California ’ s worst spike of COVID-19 , according to a Times data analysis .
For the first time , California has recorded three days in the last week when more than 13,000 new infections a day have been recorded .

Luke Money, Rong-Gong Lin II, Alejandra Reyes-Velarde

A shopper reaches for a roll of toilet paper on a partially empty shelf at Ralph’s market in Calabasas.
A modified stay-at-home order goes into effect for much of California as of Saturday morning, part of a new effort to slow the rapid spread of the coronavirus.
Here are the details of the order:
Prohibits most nonessential activity outside the home from 10 p.m. to 5 a.m. in purple tier counties . Activities banned include all gatherings with members of other households and all activities conducted outside one’s residence, lodging or temporary accommodation with members of other households.
. Activities banned include all gatherings with members of other households and all activities conducted outside one’s residence, lodging or temporary accommodation with members of other households. Allows people to leave home to walk their dog or take walks with people they live with, buy groceries or pick up drugs at the pharmacy late at night, pick up or receive takeout food, travel to the emergency room or urgent care or for other essential purposes;
Lasts through Dec. 21, though it could be extended.
Does not apply to people experiencing homelessness. Nothing in the order prevents any number of people from the same household from leaving their residence, lodging or temporary accommodation, as long as they do not engage in any interaction with (or otherwise gather with) any number of people from any other household, except as specifically permitted by the order .
. The restrictions are different from the statewide stay-at-home order Gov. Gavin Newsom issued in mid-March, in that they focus more on curbing late-night drinking and group gatherings.
Californians in the affected counties will still be allowed in the overnight hours to buy groceries, walk the dog, pick up restaurant takeout orders, visit doctors or other healthcare providers and other providers of essential services.
to buy groceries, walk the dog, pick up restaurant takeout orders, visit doctors or other healthcare providers and other providers of essential services. The order covers roughly 94% of Californians — 37 million people — who live in counties that are in the purple tier, the most restrictive in the state’s reopening plan. In purple tier counties, the restrictions have forced many businesses to suspend or severely restrict the number of customers allowed indoors.
On Friday, L.A. County imposed its own new rules. They include, from the order:
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For nonessential businesses permitted to operate indoors — including retail stores and personal care services — occupancy will be limited to 25% maximum capacity.
The number of patrons at outdoor restaurants, breweries and wineries will be limited to 50% of the maximum outdoor capacity.
The number of customers at outdoor cardrooms, mini-golf, go-karts and batting cages will be limited to 50% maximum outdoor capacity.
Services at personal care establishments may be provided only by appointment to customers wearing face coverings by staff wearing face coverings. Those that require either the customer or the staff to remove their face covering, such as facials and shaves, are not permitted. Food and drinks cannot be served at these establishments to customers.
Restaurants, breweries, wineries and all other retail establishments deemed nonessential must close their doors to the public from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. But they can continue to offer takeout and delivery service during those hours.
With COVID-19 spreading at a rapid rate, officials have warned that other public health interventions may become necessary to stem transmission.
For the seven-day period that ended Friday, an average of 10,981 people in California were reported to be infected daily — a number that has more than doubled in just the last two weeks. That is even worse than the peak in the summer, which until now had been California’s worst spike of COVID-19, according to a Times data analysis.
For the first time, California has recorded three days in the last week when more than 13,000 new infections a day have been recorded.


latimes--2020-11-21--Coronavirus curfew: Here's how law enforcement agencies will — or won't — enforce it

Despite a major surge in coronavirus cases , many Southern California policing agencies say they ’ re taking an education-first approach to the new curfew that takes effect for much of the state Saturday rather than aggressive enforcement .
The limited stay-at-home order , which officials hope will help stem an unprecedented surge in new coronavirus cases , will prohibit most nonessential activity outside the home from 10 p.m. to 5 a.m. in counties in the strictest purple tier of the state ’ s four-phase color-coded reopening plan .
Roughly 94 % of Californians live in these counties , including @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Riverside and San Diego .
L.A. County also has a separate business curfew that requires restaurants and nonessential stores to close their doors to the public at 10 p.m. , although takeout and delivery services can continue after that time .
The L.A. County Sheriff ’ s Department is hoping people will comply with the new rules voluntarily and will turn to criminal enforcement measures only as “ an extreme last resort , ” a policy it has observed since the first stay-at-home orders were issued in March , Sheriff Alex Villanueva @ @ @ @ @ @ @ We trust in the community and rely on people to assess risk and take precautions as appropriate , ” he said .
Villanueva told KTTV-TV Channel 11 that the department will focus its efforts on nonessential businesses that don ’ t close at 10 p.m. as required .
“ If we get a complaint , we will obviously investigate , we ’ ll respond to the location , we ’ ll contact the owner and ask them to comply and then , if they don ’ t , we have the option then @ @ @ @ @ @ @ said .
“ We can also prepare a criminal report for violating a health order , and we ’ ll turn it over to the Department of Public Health and let them decide what to do with it.
” Similarly , Los Angeles Police Department officers will help check whether businesses are complying with public health rules , including the curfew , the department said .
The city attorney ’ s and mayor ’ s offices will work to identify businesses that aren ’ t following regulations , and disaster service workers will @ @ @ @ @ @ @ open complaints if necessary , Capt .
Stacy Spell , an LAPD spokesman , said in a statement .
“ During off-hours , that list of locations will be provided to the department , and a call for service will be generated by [ the ] communications division directing a patrol unit and a supervisor to respond and determine if there is compliance , ” Spell said .
“ If the business is found to be noncompliant , a complaint application will be created.
” As of Friday morning , LAPD was still @ @ @ @ @ @ @ how to enforce the broader curfew .
Spell said the department would provide guidance to officers before the curfew takes effect .
“ However , it is our shared responsibility to slow the spread of COVID , and we encourage all Angelenos to follow public health guidelines , which include wearing masks in public , social distancing , washing hands and adhering to commercial business guidelines , ” he said .
Law enforcement agencies in neighboring counties also emphasized that message of personal culpability .
Some went a step further and said they @ @ @ @ @ @ @ service alleging people aren ’ t complying with public health rules , including the new curfew .
“ Let me be clear — this is a matter of personal responsibility and not a matter of law enforcement , ” Orange County Sheriff Don Barnes said in a statement .
“ Orange County sheriff ’ s deputies will not be dispatched to , or respond to , calls for service to enforce compliance with face coverings , social gatherings or stay-at-home orders only.
” Deputies will still respond to calls alleging criminal behavior or @ @ @ @ @ @ @ said .
The San Bernardino County Sheriff ’ s Department said it would continue to refer people who report violations of public health orders to the county ’ s joint information center so complaints can be triaged and assigned to the appropriate department .
“ It is not our intent to utilize patrol personnel to respond to these allegations , ” the department said in a statement .
“ We trust that members of the communities we serve will act responsibly and demonstrate good judgment to do their part to slow the spread @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Chad Bianco , an outspoken opponent of stay-at-home restrictions since early on in the crisis , also said it has been his department ’ s policy to encourage personal responsibility .
“ To ensure constitutional rights are not violated and to limit potential negative interactions and exposure to our deputies , we will not be responding to calls for service based solely on noncompliance with the new order or social distancing and mask guidelines , ” Bianco said in a statement .
By contrast , San Diego County Sheriff Bill Gore said he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ investigate health order complaints and quickly issue citations in cases where residents refuse to comply .
“ When we can ’ t mitigate the situation that we ’ re dealing with , that ’ s when the deputy sheriffs are there to take enforcement action , either through citations or writing case reports to go to the district attorney or in the city of San Diego , the city attorney there , ” Gore said Thursday .
The sheriff said his department has already obtained cooperation with police departments in cities that do @ @ @ @ @ @ @ enforcement services .
Oceanside , Carlsbad , San Diego , Chula Vista and Coronado have , he said , signaled their willingness to cooperate with the county enforcing health rules within their jurisdictions .

People play cards at MacArthur Park in Los Angeles on Thursday. The state is imposing a 10 p.m. to 5 a.m. curfew in counties in the strictest purple tier starting Saturday.
Despite a major surge in coronavirus cases, many Southern California policing agencies say they’re taking an education-first approach to the new curfew that takes effect for much of the state Saturday rather than aggressive enforcement.
The limited stay-at-home order, which officials hope will help stem an unprecedented surge in new coronavirus cases, will prohibit most nonessential activity outside the home from 10 p.m. to 5 a.m. in counties in the strictest, purple tier of the state’s four-phase color-coded reopening plan. Roughly 94% of Californians live in these counties, including Los Angeles, Orange, San Bernardino, Riverside and San Diego.
L.A. County also has a separate restriction that requires restaurants and nonessential stores to close their doors to the public at 10 p.m., although takeout and delivery services can continue after that time.
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The L.A. County Sheriff’s Department, hoping people will comply with the new rules voluntarily, will turn to criminal enforcement measures only as “an extreme last resort,” a policy it has observed since the first stay-at-home orders were issued in March, Sheriff Alex Villanueva said Thursday in a statement.
“We trust in the community and rely on people to assess risk and take precautions as appropriate,” he said.
Villanueva told KTTV-TV Channel 11 that the department will focus its efforts on nonessential businesses that don’t close at 10 p.m. as required.
“If we get a complaint, we will obviously investigate, we’ll respond to the location, we’ll contact the owner and ask them to comply and then, if they don’t, we have the option then of doing a citation,” Villanueva said. “We can also prepare a criminal report for violating a health order, and we’ll turn it over to the Department of Public Health and let them decide what to do with it.”
Similarly, Los Angeles Police Department officers will help check whether businesses are complying with public health rules, including the curfew, the department said.
The city attorney’s and mayor’s offices will work to identify businesses that aren’t following regulations, and disaster service workers will observe the establishments during business hours and open complaints if necessary, Capt. Stacy Spell, an LAPD spokesman, said in a statement.
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“During off-hours, that list of locations will be provided to the department, and a call for service will be generated by [the] communications division directing a patrol unit and a supervisor to respond and determine if there is compliance,” Spell said. “If the business is found to be noncompliant, a complaint application will be created.”
As of Friday morning, LAPD was still awaiting directions from command staff on exactly how to enforce the broader curfew. Spell said the department would provide guidance to officers before the curfew takes effect.
“However, it is our shared responsibility to slow the spread of COVID, and we encourage all Angelenos to follow public health guidelines, which include wearing masks in public, social distancing, washing hands and adhering to commercial business guidelines,” he said.
Law enforcement agencies in neighboring counties also emphasized that message of personal culpability. Some went a step further and said they wouldn’t respond to calls for service alleging people aren’t complying with public health rules, including the new curfew.
“Let me be clear — this is a matter of personal responsibility and not a matter of law enforcement,” Orange County Sheriff Don Barnes said in a statement. “Orange County sheriff’s deputies will not be dispatched to, or respond to, calls for service to enforce compliance with face coverings, social gatherings or stay-at-home orders only.”
Deputies will still respond to calls alleging criminal behavior or threats to life or property, he said.
The San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department said it would continue to refer people who report violations of public health orders to the county’s joint information center so complaints can be triaged and assigned to the appropriate department.
“It is not our intent to utilize patrol personnel to respond to these allegations,” the department said in a statement. “We trust that members of the communities we serve will act responsibly and demonstrate good judgment to do their part to slow the spread of the virus.”
Riverside County Sheriff Chad Bianco, an outspoken opponent of stay-at-home restrictions since early on in the crisis, also said it has been his department’s policy to encourage personal responsibility.
“To ensure constitutional rights are not violated and to limit potential negative interactions and exposure to our deputies, we will not be responding to calls for service based solely on noncompliance with the new order or social distancing and mask guidelines,” Bianco said in a statement.
By contrast, San Diego County Sheriff Bill Gore said he would assign eight full-time deputies to help investigate health order complaints and quickly issue citations when residents refuse to comply.
“When we can’t mitigate the situation that we’re dealing with, that’s when the deputy sheriffs are there to take enforcement action, either through citations or writing case reports to go to the district attorney or, in the city of San Diego, the city attorney there,” Gore said Thursday.
The sheriff said his department has already obtained cooperation with police departments in cities that do not contract with the county for law enforcement services. Oceanside, Carlsbad, San Diego, Chula Vista and Coronado have, he said, signaled their willingness to cooperate with the county enforcing health rules within their jurisdictions.
San Diego Union-Tribune staff writer Paul Sisson contributed to this report.


latimes--2020-11-22--Column One: Armenian Americans marvel at an elder's generosity, as they grieve over an ancestral hom

Column One: Armenian Americans marvel at an elder's generosity, as they grieve over an ancestral home

Persimmons were drying in the kitchen and a bowl of cracked walnuts sat on the table on this November day .
Clara Margossian , 102 , wore her favorite scarf tied around her head , knotted beneath her chin .
The one she saves for company .
In the house she had built on old fig orchard land 40 years ago , she asked her caretakers , Nunufar Khalatian and Margo Ellison , to fetch a box of the See ’ s candy kept on hand for all occasions .
But then she noticed the women , both Armenian immigrants @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hide tears .
“ What happened ?
” Margossian asked , going suddenly still .
“ Is it the war ?
” Six weeks earlier , as fighting escalated between Azerbaijan and Armenia over Nagorno-Karabakh , an enclave of antiquity and beauty in the Caucasus Mountains , Khalatian and Ellison had been too shocked to hide their emotions .
They cried .
They discussed how much money they were going to send to the Armenia Fund , a Los Angeles-based humanitarian relief organization .
Khalatian sent $ 1,000 .
Ellison came up with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a sacrifice .
Margossian said she wanted to help too .
No one in her family had ever been known for giving away money .
But Margossian , the last of her clan and with no living relatives , told the church deacon in charge of her affairs to arrange a $ 1-million donation .
Quickly it spread throughout the diaspora that such a gift came to Armenia from a Fresno woman more than a century old — a daughter of the Armenian genocide of 1915 .
Ellison ’ s cousin in Armenia @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a bullet in his knee , called to ask if she knew who the woman could be .
She told him it was her Clara , the woman she worked for .
She held up her tablet so he could speak to Margossian over video .
He tearfully thanked her for helping a homeland she had never seen .
He said that the money brought a special hope coming from a survivor of Armenia ’ s greatest tragedy .
Knarik Clara Margossian ’ s life spans the sweeps of history that define the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the shadow of the genocide and now , in old age , nightly watched YouTube updates of a war over lands her family fled .
Her mother was pregnant with Clara ’ s older brother when an estimated 1.5 million Armenians were killed and expelled by Ottoman Turk soldiers and police .
Turkey continues to deny it was genocide .
Margossian ’ s older brother was born April 25 , the day after the date recognized each year as the anniversary of the massacre .
Her parents ’ Turkish neighbors hid them .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ Turkish families protecting Armenians would be killed , her parents began walking to Russia with a 3-day-old baby .
Clara and her younger sister were born in Russia .
One by one , their surviving relatives joined them .
The family of watchmakers prospered but remained cloistered and wary of outsiders .
Neither Clara nor her siblings ever married .
In the 1940s , like many Armenian families before them , they moved to Fresno , the first center of the Armenian diaspora in California .
A family friend told them that if @ @ @ @ @ @ @ month for investing , they would be rich in their old age .
Margossian still includes that man ’ s memory in her prayers .
The Armenian connection is written on the landscape of the Central Valley .
The winter-gold grapevines on the outskirts of town , trays of raisins recently harvested , were first planted by Armenian settlers in the late 1800s .
Holy Trinity Armenian Apostolic Church is still the jewel of downtown , even now , flanked by a flashy car dealership .
Across the street , Valley Lahvosh bakery @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Many of the city ’ s family names end in “ i-a-n , ” the ancient suffix meaning “ son of ” .
It is the setting of “ The Human Comedy ” by native son William Saroyan .
His novel of ordinary people on the home front during World War II is considered an American antiwar classic .
Fresno became a de facto home front to the 2020 Azerbaijani-Armenian war .
At the Armenian school , the eyes of a mother dropping her children off were red and swollen from crying @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was a “ Pastries for Peace ” or a kebab sale to raise money for Armenia .
As in larger cities , people protested on street corners , fruitlessly demanding the United States intercede .
In a country grappling with a momentous election , pandemic and civil unrest , their voices gained little traction .
When Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan backed oil-rich Azerbaijan with advanced weapons , Armenians in Fresno and elsewhere quaked , fearing the end goal was destroying Armenia itself .
In the evenings , Margossian usually liked to watch @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” a PBS saga tracing generations of a family through wars .
But now she watched real-time Armenian war coverage .
They always reported that Armenia was winning , despite the odds and even though Khalatian and Ellison received messages from home telling of terrible losses .
On Nov. 9 , the reality was announced .
Armenia ’ s forces were broken and facing certain defeat .
The Armenian government accepted a Russia-brokered peace deal returning much of Nagorno-Karabakh to Azerbaijan .
Russian soldiers will patrol the area and enforce new borders .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ was when they first saw photos of the Azerbaijani flag flying over Shusha , the hilltop city Armenians call Shushi , and which both Armenians and Azeris treasure .
Khalatian didn ’ t directly answer when Margossian asked : “ Is it the war ?
” “ Clara-jan , ” she said , adding an endearment often used by Armenians .
“ Your money will help people who need medicine and places to live , even more now.
” Margossian seemed to understand what that meant .
Her eyes filled with tears .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ to the Armenian people , ” said Margossian , who is deeply religious .
“ Tell them to keep faith in God and each other.
” Grief spread through the community as Armenians realized the region they call Artsakh , home to their oldest churches and monasteries , was lost .
Ellison got word that family members , two young brothers on her father ’ s side , had been killed 25 minutes before the truce was announced .
Varoujan Der Simonian , director of the Armenian Museum of Fresno , grew up @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for 41 years .
He asked himself why the loss of this blood-soaked land devastated him and others even more generations removed from Armenia .
“ I realized it ’ s because it ’ s inside me .
It ’ s part of me , ” he said .
In the courtyard of the church downtown , he knelt in front of the eternity circle , an Armenian symbol of infinity that is also carved in countless crosses throughout Nagorno-Karabakh , a place he ’ s visited many times on agricultural missions .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” he said , looking at the symbol ’ s looping , unbroken lines .
“ This circle holds the love and creativity of the Armenian people .
We will endure and continue to contribute to humanity.
” During the Soviet era , Turkish Azerbaijan and Armenia lived peacefully side by side .
But Josef Stalin tried to erase religious and cultural identities by making Nagorno-Karabakh , an Armenian cultural touchstone , part of Azerbaijan .
When the Soviet Union broke up , both countries became independent .
Nagorno-Karabakh , with its @ @ @ @ @ @ @ away from Azerbaijan .
Armenia invaded the disputed territory it considers a homeland but is internationally recognized as Azerbaijan , and drove 600,000 ethnic Turks from their homes .
The war ended in 1994 , with 20,000 dead and Azerbaijanis vowing to someday reclaim what they consider their land .
The Armenian commander in that war was Monte Melkonian , an Armenian American who grew up playing Little League baseball in the Central Valley .
According to Russian President Vladimir Putin , 5,000 were killed in this war .
Many of the dead @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Yerevan , the capital of Armenia , even as a pandemic continues to kill .
The power in a volatile region has tilted to Turkey and Russia .
At Margossian ’ s house , she watched on video as people in Armenia rioted over their country ’ s surrender and Armenians fled Nagorno-Karabakh , some of them burning their houses behind them .
Margossian asked if people were glad the war had ended .
Khalatian reached for Margossian ’ s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze .
“ I think the people @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , on both sides , ” she said , “ are happy that it ’ s over .
”

Persimmons were drying in the kitchen and a bowl of cracked walnuts sat on the table on this November day. Clara Margossian, 102, wore her favorite scarf tied around her head, knotted beneath her chin. The one she saves for company.
In the house she had built on old fig orchard land 40 years ago, she asked her caretakers, Nunufar Khalatian and Margo Ellison, to fetch a box of the See’s candy kept on hand for all occasions. But then she noticed the women, both Armenian immigrants, checking their phones, trying to hide tears.
“What happened?” Margossian asked, going suddenly still. “Is it the war?”
Six weeks earlier, as fighting escalated between Azerbaijan and Armenia over Nagorno-Karabakh, an enclave of antiquity and beauty in the Caucasus Mountains, Khalatian and Ellison had been too shocked to hide their emotions. They cried. They discussed how much money they were going to send to the Armenia Fund, a Los Angeles-based humanitarian relief organization. Khalatian sent $1,000. Ellison came up with $700. For both it was a sacrifice.
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Margossian said she wanted to help too. No one in her family had ever been known for giving away money. But Margossian, the last of her clan and with no living relatives, told the church deacon in charge of her affairs to arrange a $1-million donation.
Quickly it spread throughout the diaspora that such a gift came to Armenia from a Fresno woman more than a century old — a daughter of the Armenian genocide of 1915.
Malia Urdahl, 4, sits with 102-year-old Clara Margossian in her Fresno home. Malia is the granddaughter of Nunufar Khalatian, one of Margossian’s caretakers. (Nunufar Khalatian)
Ellison’s cousin in Armenia, home from the front lines, a bullet in his knee, called to ask if she knew who the woman could be.
She told him it was her Clara, the woman she worked for. She held up her tablet so he could speak to Margossian over video. He tearfully thanked her for helping a homeland she had never seen. He said that the money brought a special hope coming from a survivor of Armenia’s greatest tragedy.
Knarik Clara Margossian’s life spans the sweeps of history that define the Armenian experience. She was born in the shadow of the genocide and now, in old age, nightly watched YouTube updates of a war over lands her family fled.
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Her mother was pregnant with Clara’s older brother when an estimated 1.5 million Armenians were killed and expelled by Ottoman Turk soldiers and police. Turkey continues to deny it was genocide.
Margossian’s older brother was born April 25, the day after the date recognized each year as the anniversary of the massacre. Her parents’ Turkish neighbors hid them. When the order went out that any Turkish families protecting Armenians would be killed, her parents began walking to Russia with a 3-day-old baby. Clara and her younger sister were born in Russia. One by one, their surviving relatives joined them.
The family of watchmakers prospered but remained cloistered and wary of outsiders. Neither Clara nor her siblings ever married. In the 1940s, like many Armenian families before them, they moved to Fresno, the first center of the Armenian diaspora in California. A family friend told them that if they set aside a little money each month for investing, they would be rich in their old age. Margossian still includes that man’s memory in her prayers.
Armenian immigrant Nunufar Khalatian, 59, holds an old photo that features the family of 102-year-old Fresno resident Clara Margossian, a daughter of the Armenian genocide of 1915. Margossian is at far right. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
The Armenian connection is written on the landscape of the Central Valley. The winter-gold grapevines on the outskirts of town, trays of raisins recently harvested, were first planted by Armenian settlers in the late 1800s. Holy Trinity Armenian Apostolic Church is still the jewel of downtown, even now, flanked by a flashy car dealership. Across the street, Valley Lahvosh bakery makes Armenian cracker bread shaped like hearts.
Many of the city’s family names end in “i-a-n,” the ancient suffix meaning “son of”. It is the setting of “The Human Comedy” by native son William Saroyan. His novel of ordinary people on the home front during World War II is considered an American antiwar classic.
Advertisement
Fresno became a de facto home front to the 2020 Azerbaijani-Armenian war. At the Armenian school, the eyes of a mother dropping her children off were red and swollen from crying all night. Almost every day there was a “Pastries for Peace” or a kebab sale to raise money for Armenia. As in larger cities, people protested on street corners, fruitlessly demanding the United States intercede. In a country grappling with a momentous election, pandemic and civil unrest, their voices gained little traction.
When Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan backed oil-rich Azerbaijan with advanced weapons, Armenians in Fresno and elsewhere quaked, fearing the end goal was destroying Armenia itself.
A monument to William Saroyan stands in Courthouse Park in downtown Fresno. The Armenian American author of “The Human Comedy” is a native son of Fresno. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
In the evenings, Margossian usually liked to watch her favorite show, “Poldark,” a PBS saga tracing generations of a family through wars. But now she watched real-time Armenian war coverage. They always reported that Armenia was winning, despite the odds and even though Khalatian and Ellison received messages from home telling of terrible losses.
On Nov. 9, the reality was announced. Armenia’s forces were broken and facing certain defeat. The Armenian government accepted a Russia-brokered peace deal returning much of Nagorno-Karabakh to Azerbaijan. Russian soldiers will patrol the area and enforce new borders.
The day Margossian noticed her caregivers crying was when they first saw photos of the Azerbaijani flag flying over Shusha, the hilltop city Armenians call Shushi, and which both Armenians and Azeris treasure.
Khalatian didn’t directly answer when Margossian asked: “Is it the war?”
Advertisement
“Clara-jan,” she said, adding an endearment often used by Armenians. “Your money will help people who need medicine and places to live, even more now.”
Margossian seemed to understand what that meant. Her eyes filled with tears.
“I want to give a message to the Armenian people,” said Margossian, who is deeply religious. “Tell them to keep faith in God and each other.”
Grief spread through the community as Armenians realized the region they call Artsakh, home to their oldest churches and monasteries, was lost. Ellison got word that family members, two young brothers on her father’s side, had been killed 25 minutes before the truce was announced.
A shadow moves across the Armenian Genocide Centennial Memorial on the campus of Cal State Fresno. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
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Varoujan Der Simonian, director of the Armenian Museum of Fresno, grew up in Lebanon and has lived in Fresno for 41 years. He asked himself why the loss of this blood-soaked land devastated him and others even more generations removed from Armenia.
“I realized it’s because it’s inside me. It’s part of me,” he said.
In the courtyard of the church downtown, he knelt in front of the eternity circle, an Armenian symbol of infinity that is also carved in countless crosses throughout Nagorno-Karabakh, a place he’s visited many times on agricultural missions.
COLUMN ONE A showcase for compelling storytelling from the Los Angeles Times. More Stories
“I had trouble coming here today,” he said, looking at the symbol’s looping, unbroken lines. “This circle holds the love and creativity of the Armenian people. We will endure and continue to contribute to humanity.”
During the Soviet era, Turkish Azerbaijan and Armenia lived peacefully side by side. But Josef Stalin tried to erase religious and cultural identities by making Nagorno-Karabakh, an Armenian cultural touchstone, part of Azerbaijan.
When the Soviet Union broke up, both countries became independent. Nagorno-Karabakh, with its large Armenian population, tried to break away from Azerbaijan. Armenia invaded the disputed territory it considers a homeland but is internationally recognized as Azerbaijan, and drove 600,000 ethnic Turks from their homes.
Varoujan Der Simonian stands at the Grave of the Unknown Martyr in Ararat Cemetery in Fresno. The grave symbolizes the lives lost in the Armenian genocide whose names are not remembered and bodies went unburied. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
The war ended in 1994, with 20,000 dead and Azerbaijanis vowing to someday reclaim what they consider their land. The Armenian commander in that war was Monte Melkonian, an Armenian American who grew up playing Little League baseball in the Central Valley.
According to Russian President Vladimir Putin, 5,000 were killed in this war. Many of the dead were civilians. Refugees are flooding into Yerevan, the capital of Armenia, even as a pandemic continues to kill. The power in a volatile region has tilted to Turkey and Russia.
At Margossian’s house, she watched on video as people in Armenia rioted over their country’s surrender and Armenians fled Nagorno-Karabakh, some of them burning their houses behind them.
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Margossian asked if people were glad the war had ended. Khalatian reached for Margossian’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.
“I think the people whose children will make it home alive, on both sides,” she said, “are happy that it’s over.”