Behind the artistry of stone walls and elegant privacy gate in one of Ojai’s coveted historical neighborhoods, a canopy of mature oaks, pines and palms gives presence to a completely renovated luxurious estate property consisting of 5 structures, sparkling pool and spa amongst a lush terraced landscape designed for elaborate entertaining.
Retaining the heart of its 1940’s cottage origin and infusing the expansion with uncompromised quality and vision; the marriage of old-world aesthetic and luxury level resort-style living has evolved into an extraordinary one-of-a-kind compound where all the work has been done. And truly…. no detail has been spared.
3 + 3 Main Residence • Newly constructed 2 + 2.5 ADU
• Renovated 1930’s Cottage
Writers Studio
• Detached Gym or Office •
• Terraced Entertainment Patios • Bocce Court
•Oversized Pool • Separate Spa.
Price Upon Request
At the heart of Ojai’s ‘Funk Zone’ Active $889,000
Charming Arbolada Farmhouse with attached guest quarters. Sold for $2,200,000
Renovate and celebrate! Premium Arbolada location.
Sold for $2,258,000
Los Arboles Townhome in the Heart of Downtown.
Sold for $1,420,000
5 Bdrm, Farmhouse with pool & guest quarters on 1.5 acres. Sold for $1,830,00
DRE 00878649 | DRE 01708004 | DRE 01414001
Turn-key cottage,
blocks to town. Sold for $1,450,000
Updated, sophisticated & modern view home!
Sold for $1,285,000
Arbolada Mid-Century with pool on 1.5 acres. Sold for $2,080,000
RD. ‘F’
Enjoy easy living! Renovated two story end unit with loft
Sold for $728,000
Opportunity awaits! Welcome to a truly exceptional Oak Tree studded gated Mini-Compound in the picturesque Ojai Valley. This gorgeous residence is a testament to artistic, contemporary living, boasting a spacious blissful, full-of-character 2-br, 1-bt well-appointed main house with a legal 1-br ADU, offering 1426 sqft of inspiring living. Fully gated, you are instantly greeted by the beauty of the majestic, ancient Oak Trees that adorn the landscape. Lush greenery, lovely courtyards, an inspiring entertainer’s backyard, and a jacuzzi create an enchanting ambiance. Step inside and be captivated by the artistic charm that permeates every room. Thoughtfully designed living spaces w/open and airy layout allows for abundant natural light, creating an inviting atmosphere that instantly feels like home. The living room, w/its open-beamed ceiling, makes a sense of casual grandeur and openness while showcasing the craftsmanship and architectural charm of the home. Both bedrooms, generously sized, offer comfort and privacy. You’ll love the remodeled kitchen & tastefully designed, cozy bathroom. The Oh-So-Hip ADU provides limitless possibilities. This property could serve as a primary residence, a get-away home, or an investment property generating vast income opportunities. Sellers are open to selling the property fully furnished.
This stylish, luxurious Townvilla, located conveniently in the highly sought-after Los Arboles enclave, offers an exceptional lifestyle just a few steps from the best of everything Ojai has to offer. Pride in ownership is exquisitely showcased, thoughtfully designed by award-winning architect Marc Whitman, offering a warm, classy, inviting atmosphere & superb construction with quality appointments & finishes. You’ll love the gourmet kitchen, two fireplaces & various enchanting indoor & outdoor green living spaces. Two inviting main level-floor bedrooms, one a cozy ensuite with fireplace & private patio; the other could also serve as an office. A stunning staircase with a custom iron handrail overlooks the spacious living room with its soaring cathedral ceiling, leading to a delightful private bedroom ensuite with balcony. Enjoy this Ojai downtown Charmer ~ It does not get any better!
Unwavering commitment to my clients’ satisfaction
Driven by passion for the work I do
CA DRE #01983530 Top
257 S. MONTGOMERY STREET | LOS ARBOLES VILLA | ZONED VILLAGE MIXED USE | JUST SOLD $1,435,000 870 S. LA LUNA AVENUE | MID CENTURY MODERN GATED MINI COMPOUND | $1,450,000
This centrally located commercial property features main street frontage, a welcoming façade, and a private parking lot making it an ideal setting for a small business, wellness services, boutique, studio, or live-work space. Features include a large meeting or group office space, three separate offices, kitchen, two bathrooms, and large windows for natural light.
$1,395,000
Three-bedroom, two-bathroom main house with wood-burning stove, see-through fireplace, laundry room, deck, two-car garage, RV parking, mountain views, and two-bedroom guest house
$1,299,000
Enjoy resort-style living at this luxurious, private, 10-acre estate in Upper Ojai boasting gated entries, seven-bedroom main house with two guest wings and three fireplaces, pool house, swimming pool with beach entrance and wading pool, spa, gym, artist’s loft, lighted tennis court, horse facilities, outdoor kitchen with pizza oven, patio fireplace, family orchard, three-car garage + two-car garage, and spectacular mountain views.
$5,795,000 | RocaVistaRanchOjai.com
907 Bryant Place, 1205 Fierro Drive, three separate properties on Spring Street in Oak View, and homes on Saddle Lane, Rice Road, Burnham Road, and Patricia Court.
Call Nora for more information on these homes that will soon be on the market.
Create an off-grid, country retreat on 40 acres with mountain views, trails, and a natural spring in Rose Valley in the Los Padres National Forest.
$1,200,000
THE DAVIS GROUP
Nora Davis
805.207.6177
nora@ojaivalleyestates.com
www.ojaivalleyestates.com
727 Ojai Avenue, Ojai CA 93023
DRE 01046067
Cradled between beautiful mountains, with trailheads never more than 15 minutes away, Ojai o ers the promise of an uncomplicated life, as nature itself seems to set the tone for our interactions. There is physical space for the mind to wander its own path as one walks through a preserve in peaceful heat; the quiet nearly forces serenity. Just inhaling sun-baked sage, lavender, rosemary, and the entire fragrant basket of the chaparral as one enters the Ojai Valley, brings a calm relief to a busy mind.
The riches Ojai brings are rarely monetary. Ojai provides a special shelter for the soul — a cocoon — and a springboard for creativity and innovation. Never far from another climb to take in the valley’s view, so too our thoughts have an opportunity to change perspective with every step outside. In this more simple-life framework, we can both experience the close proximity of times past while formulating the next creative solution. We just have to allow it. By way of illustration, meet our then-and-now community in our Fall issue. Johnny Cash was one who called this valley home — a refuge from the trappings of a big life. Read the story of the renovation of The House Cash Built (pg. 24). Our story of Constable Harry Hunt (pg. 108), Ojai’s one-armed lawman who died in service, protecting the valley he loved, brings our local past up close and personal.
Unconventional expression blossoms from Chumash heritage in native-born Ojaian Paula Pugh, Ojai Valley News cartoonist, who expresses her inner world in drawing (pg. 40). Collaboration and experimentation are the building blocks behind Echo Magic Collective (pg. 58), with a core of four who build their music on the rhythm of nature.
Hope and healing comes in warm water through Aquãtez Ojai (pg. 100) and equine therapy; as Samantha Balcezak, founder of Reins of Hope (pg. 92), o ered Ojai Valley News reporter Kimberly Rivers, “Maybe it isn’t about catching, but connecting.”
Ojai’s farm foodie John Fonteyn will get you laughing until you again make sense, as he deconstructs old paradigms surrounding elite eating in The Future is Primitive (pg. 66).
Read and get to know the community for yourself through local independent news and Ojai Magazine. A visitor shared an observation this summer that Ojai is a “world unto itself.” This valley has a spirit; it brings solace, gives comfort, and has a natural life force that won’t be controlled. One day — the first day you arrive, or 25 years on — you realize you have been caught in the cocoon, you’re hooked … you love this place. Then perhaps you realize something — you don’t own Ojai, Ojai owns you.
With a ection,
EDITOR / PUBLISHER
Laura Rearwin Ward
ASSISTANT EDITOR
Karen Lindell
ART DIRECTOR
Paul Stanton
WRITERS
Karen Lindell
Perry Van Houten
Gregg Stewart
Mimi Walker
Barbara Burke
Kimberly Rivers
John Fonteyn
Nigel Chisholm
PRODUCTION SUPPORT
Tori Behar, Mimi Walker
Georgia Schreiner
ADVERTISING
Linda Snider, director of sales
Catherine Miller, account executive Ally Mills, advertising assistant
CONTACT
team@ojaivalleynews.com
advertising@ojaivalleynews.com www.ojaivalleynews.com/magazine @ojaimag
Cover art: Johnny Cash’s Ojai Valley home gets a makeover
We just want to fill this house with music,” says Lisa Kenton, who last summer with her husband, Jerry, purchased for around $2 million the Casitas Springs home built by music legend Johnny Cash.
For the past year, the couple, former owners of the Deer Lodge, have been renovating and restoring the 5,000-square-foot, five-bedroom, singlestory ranch-style home that sits on nearly 6 acres high above Nye Road, in the town Lisa calls “a hidden gem.”
Lisa grew up adoring the Man in Black’s music, and the Kentons even named their son Cash. “He’s just part of the fabric of who I am and where I’ve been,” she said.
Johnny and his first wife, Vivian, built the home in 1961 as a rustic retreat from his busy life of constant touring and recording.
While the home was in escrow, Lisa did extensive research and uncovered the love story that goes with it. “There was a lot of magic that came into this house through that relationship,” she said.
And though it was built to Johnny’s exact standards, Lisa discovered the home is a reflection of both Vivian and her husband. “I bought this house thinking I was buying Johnny Cash’s house, but when I deepdived, before I even owned it, I discovered Vivian,” she said.
Helping the Kentons with the home’s renovation is Cindy Cash, the secondyoungest of Johnny and Vivian’s four daughters, whom Jerry and Lisa met in 2007 at the Deer Lodge. “Yeah, this was his house. He built it, he picked the spot, but Mom was here 24 hours a day, seven days a week, raising little girls,” Cindy said.
When the property hit the market in 2022, Cindy, who lives in Nashville, got calls from friends telling her the house was for sale. “I was terrified. I thought somebody is going to buy that property and tear the house down, or do something really stupid with it,” she recalled, even telling her sisters she didn’t want to know when the house sold or who bought it. “I was in tears,” she said.
After the sale, Cindy got a call from the Kentons saying they were the home’s new owners and inviting her to come out for
an extended stay. She was 17 the last time she was in the house. “As soon as I walked in that front door it was like this house hugged me. It embraced me and I just lost it. Just bawling like a baby,” she said.
According to Cindy, the vision the Kentons have for the home is exactly the same as hers. “If I could handpick anyone in the whole world to buy this house, it would be them,” she said.
Though not a lot of changes were made to the home after the Cashes divorced in 1967 and Vivian sold the place in the early 1970s, the Kentons want to bring it back to something Johnny and Vivian would have loved, “taking the original purpose of the house, the original love, the original idea of what it was supposed to be, and bringing that energy into it now,” Lisa said.
The first step in the process was “discovering what was original, what was changed, what we can bring back, and what we can’t,” said Lisa. “We’re working with a funny animal here, because we’ve got midcentury, we’ve got Western, and we’ve got rock ’n’ roll.”
“There’s a place in my heart That I still call my own Although out of my grasp It will always be home.”
(From “Home,” by Cindy Cash, age 20)
The Cash family outside their new Casitas Springs home in 1961. In Johnny’s lap is Cindy Cash. Behind Vivian are Kathy, far left, and Rosanne. Tara would be born later that year.
Throughout the house, the Kentons brought back the silver and gold glitter acoustic ceilings Johnny had installed. It’s said he told his girls he wanted them to see the stars, even when they were in bed at night.
Lisa and Jerry uncovered more sparkles in a room adjoining the living room, where a previous owner had covered and hidden with boards the room’s original gold glitter flooring. The floor in a back o ce had also been covered. “And so we pull it up and there it is. Beautiful tiny squares of 1960s multicolored tiles,” Lisa said.
In the kitchen, the Kentons have kept all the original cabinets and installed black slate flooring, which Johnny would have liked, according to Lisa. There’s even a record player that pulls out of the wall.
In the living room, the wagon wheel light fixtures Vivian made for Johnny are staying, along with the curved brick fireplace and knotty wood paneling.
One of the few things Johnny took when he left after the divorce was a wagon wheel table where he kept his belt buckle and pocketknife collections under glass. A family member took the table after Johnny Cash’s death in 2003, and Cindy has tried to get it back, but with no luck so far.
Though eldest daughter Rosanne has said all her memories of the house are dark — “she remembers Mom crying all the time” — Cindy said most of her memories are good ones.
“The memories I have are so vivid,” she said. One Christmas, Johnny put his boots in the fireplace and walked them out the front door with his hands so the girls were certain that Santa had been there.
Cindy remembered her father taking away tarantulas she had caught in the yard. “He would come outside and he would lie on the ground next to me and he would say, ‘You
know what, baby? I saw that tarantula’s mother over there, and I know she was looking for him. I know she’s probably got dinner ready for him.’”
Of the four sisters, Cindy was the rebel of the group, she said. “I think that’s why my dad and I were so close.” Her mother would often say, “You’re just like your father.”
Life was tough for the Cash family as Johnny’s star was on the rise. When he finally returned from the road he would sleep for days, so the girls were told to keep quiet and not wake him up.
Johnny Cash built this doll house for daughters Rosanne, Kathy, Cindy and Tara. Photo courtesy Cash family collection Lisa Kenton, left, and Cindy Cash in November 2022, on the doorstep of the home Cindy had not set foot in since 1966. Photo by Perry Van Houten The Cash home under construction in 1961. Johnny wanted to move his family to the secluded mountain above Casitas Springs to get away from big city life in Los Angeles.The long waits for Dad to come home were the worst, according to Cindy: “sitting in the window waiting for that long, black Cadillac to come up the driveway, and it not coming when he was supposed to be here that day,” she said, “and us going to bed crying because he didn’t come home.”
Cindy approved when the Kentons decided to turn the girls’ whimsically shaped, poolside dollhouse into a bar, using recycled teak wood and knotty pine. The exterior of the dollhouse looks just like the original, Jerry said.
At the bottom of the swimming pool, the Kentons installed a mosaic made of tile in the shape of a black guitar, complete with Johnny Cash’s signature.
To help with renovating the property, the Kentons assembled a “dream team” of designers, craftspeople, and carpenters. Their goal was always restoration, not removal of what was there before. “That was our rule: Don’t take Johnny out of the house,” said Lisa.
The couple brought in Alicia Beaty from Style Choice Interiors of Ojai to oversee the interior design of the home, which she described as mid-century modern and Western with a little bit of glam. “It’s like a time capsule,” Alicia said. “We kept as much as we could original, and the colors that they used. It was a fun job because there’s a lot of history.”
Carpenter Tom Antous helped with everything from design, to sourcing of
wood, to delivering the finished products, “finding the most authentic fit for what we had to replace or had to fix, and really trying to keep the original look, and amplify it to somewhat of today’s technology,” he said.
For the barbecue area, Josh Mariani of Ojai Oaks Fallen Wood Studio sourced the local cedar to match the original bar, which may be the longest bar in the Ojai Valley at more than 70 feet.
“We only work with fallen or reclaimed
wood. We find it has more value to the community and more value to the environment,” Mariani said. “I’m really flattered to be part of this project. I did nothing but handle a chainsaw. I’m pretty decent with a sander and I know some great carpenters, so we were able to get it together.”
The Kentons also called on Serena Overho from nonprofit Go Sustainable Now. “We’re part of this amazing dream team to restore and preserve this American, iconic property. Our purpose in Ojai is
Using local, recycled wood, Jerry and Lisa Kenton turned the doll house into a bar. Photo: Upmarket Media In the “pink” bedroom and throughout the home, Jerry and Lisa Kenton restored Johnny Cash’s original glitter ceilings. Photo: Upmarket Media The swimming pool, with the new tile guitar at the bottom. Photo: Sespe Moon Mediato bring back and restore these beautiful properties,” Serena said.
Working with Chris Amendt of Native Monarchs, the team plans to create a natural organic garden using milkweed and other native plants that attract pollinators.
The Kentons are also planting another native that attracts a California butterfly symbolic of Johnny Cash: “We’re hoping to have a sanctuary for black butterflies,” Lisa said. “It’s going to be so complementary to what Jerry has accomplished, which is building out the landscape to attract the deer and the foxes and the hawks. It’s what Johnny Cash
had originally designed himself,” Overho said. As for filling the house with music, the pool room is filled with musical instruments, including a piano, drums, and guitars. Visitors are told to grab an instrument and play. “And then the vibes just start happening. Music is what drove this whole thing, from the time Johnny found this property to where we’re at now,” Lisa said. The couple began moving in on Aug. 24, 2022 and will make the home their permanent residence. They’ve been looking into ways to provide public tours of the property, according to Lisa.
The Kentons are also building a recording studio on the property. “We’re just hoping for a hit song here,” said Jerry, “from somebody.”
It’s the music and the magic, created by a young couple who built a home for their girls high on a hill above Casitas Springs, that the Kentons want to revive. “The story of this house is not all roses,” said Lisa, “but my goal was always to bring back the original intention of how this house became a home and the love between the couple that built it from the bottom up.”
“YET EVEN TODAY, TO LOOK AT A TREE AND ASK THE STORY, WHO ARE YOU? IS TO BE TRANSFORMED…”
— JANE HIRSHFIELD, FROM HER POEM “METEMPSYCHOSIS”
OH, THE STORIES THE TEACHING TREE COULD TELL. TENACIOUS AND TENDER, SHE HAS FENDED OFF FIRE, SURVIVING TO CRADLE THE HUMANS WHO GATHER BENEATH HER LIMBS, SEEKING TO TRANSFORM THEIR LIVES.
Now, the centuries-old live oak is a thoughtful observer, too, watching as the landscape she rests on undergoes a transformation from The Ojai Foundation, founded in 1975, to the Topa Institute. The transition is both physical and philosophical. After the 2017 Thomas Fire destroyed nearly all the structures on The Ojai Foundation’s 36 acres, a tranquil retreat set on a ridge in the Topatopa Mountains, the nonprofit organization had to rethink how — or whether — it would rebuild, and if so, how its identity might change.
After five years of anguished but heartfelt dialogue and debate, the foundation decided to let go of its lease. When the Happy Valley Foundation, which owns the property, put out a call for another entity to take its place, the Topa Institute was formed, a merger of sorts from the remains of The Ojai Foundation and the L.A. arts and cultural organization Yiddishkayt. The institute will continue the holistic training and community-building work of The Ojai Foundation, but with a new, expanded vision that includes an artistic and cultural dimension influenced by Yiddishkayt, and a renewed commitment to respect for the land.
The person overseeing this metamorphosis is Executive Director Rob Adler Peckerar, who took up his post in spring 2022. Rob, a writer and translator with a Ph.D. in comparative literature, was a college professor and worked at other nonprofits before taking the helm at Yiddishkayt in 2011. He became aware of The Ojai Foundation when he trained in the organization’s “Council” practice — an ancient form of group listening and sharing — and brought it to the artist communities he worked with.
story by KAREN LINDELL
photos by DOUG ELLIS
During an interview from his Topa Institute o ce in one of the few structures that survived the fire, Rob explained how the past is connected to the new institute’s purpose and vision.
People keep asking him if the Topa Institute is “the new Ojai Foundation,” he says. The answer is no, but it’s complicated. “This nonprofit in many ways bears the legacy of its predecessors,” Rob says, “but is also a new entity.”
That legacy reaches back to the 1920s. The Topa Institute sits on land that was part of about 450 acres purchased by noted
theosophist Annie Besant in 1927, who developed an innovative community seeking a new way of life focused on spirituality, the arts, education, and agriculture. (Besant is also known for adopting famed spiritual philosopher Krishnamurti as a boy and bringing him and his brother to Ojai in the 1920s.)
“Theosophy at the beginning of the 20th century was probably one of the most important leading spiritualist movements in the world,” Rob says. “There’s a really deep, interesting history tied to this place related to California as a source of global ideas about spirituality and wisdom.”
Besant created the Happy Valley Foundation to implement her vision, and the nonprofit opened its first institution, the Happy Valley School (now Besant Hill School of Happy Valley), in 1946.
The Ojai Foundation was founded on a portion of the land in 1975 as the Human Dimensions Institute West, a nonprofit that would explore the intersection of science and spirituality. In 1979, Joan Halifax, a Buddhist teacher, anthropologist, writer, and activist, took the helm of the newly named Ojai Foundation, which experimented with community living, holistic education, and spiritual training.
Leaders, scholars, artists and activists from many backgrounds and faith traditions who taught at the foundation over the years include Joseph Campbell, Thich Nhat Hanh, Jean Houston, Andrew Weil, José Argüelles, Francis Huxley, Joanna Macy, Deena Metzger and Mary Catherine Bateson. After Halifax moved to New Mexico in 1990 to start the Upaya Zen Center, Jack Zimmerman and Virginia Coyle, authors of The Way of Council, led the foundation and helped spread the Council practice to other organizations.
Previously Fringe Festival Los Angeles, Yiddishkayt (whose name is translated variously as “Jewish character or quality,” “Jewish way of life,” or “Jewishness”), expanded into the Topa Institute in October 2022. Programs specific to Yiddishkayt, including its artist residency program, focus on Yiddish culture and history, and e orts to create “intercultural links between historically marginalized communities, will continue to operate under the umbrella of the arts and culture programs at Topa,” Rob says.
Council — held under the Teaching Tree and other sacred spaces on the grounds — is a core part of the institute’s history and ethos.
O’Kawai Kin, the Topa Institute’s education program director and a Council facilitator, describes Council as “an ancient communication practice where people sit in a circle and tell stories while speaking and listening from the heart. This is an opportunity for everyone to feel equal because there’s no hierarchy in Council … There’s no beginning and there’s no end. There’s only oneness. This is a great opportunity for people to connect with themselves, with the group, and with the natural world.”
Council is not simply a retreat activity done under a sprawling tree. It’s also used throughout the world by groups in schools, prisons, corporations, and nonprofits as a community-building tool.
“The essence of Council remains so central to what we’re doing, but we’re doing it in new ways,” Rob says. “It’s being presented as part of a reckoning with a history of exclusion, gender exclusion, and heterosexism.” The institute is forming Council programs, for example, for the LGBTQIA+ and BIPOC communities.
The institute will continue to present the retreats, workshops, and classes previously o ered by The Ojai Foundation, ranging from “rites of passage” programs for middle and high school students, to Council training and social-emotional learning for all ages.
The four- or five-day rites of passage program, says Anita “Ani” Samaha, director of outreach and facilitation, “is an opportunity for students to step out of their daily lives to view the transition they’re going into, the threshold they’re crossing,” and
“has been monumental in shifting lives and getting people to connect to themselves and each other.”
The institute is also planning a new slate of cultural programming, Rob says, that “ties all these threads together: the holistic education piece, connected to a deep awareness of the Earth and the environment, all through the lens of the arts.”
Many of the arts and culture programs will center on historically underrepresented cultures, and are still in the planning stages.
Some programs already held this year include a Family and Ancestral Constellations Workshop; a Moving with Grace Through Changes dance class; and a Cosmic Compass Festival.
During an upcoming five-day “Run Write Read Repeat” retreat in October with poet and novelist Moriel Rothman-Zecher, participants are invited to explore how running and writing “inform … correspond with … and transform each other.”
The Topa Institute also hopes to o er live music and other performances at a new amphitheater.
Rob says awareness of Indigenous rights and land justice is “a crucial part of everything we do. We recognize we’re on land that was never ceded, taken from Indigenous people who lived and thrived here for 10,000 years prior to colonization. We are very much connected to what it means to promote, talk about, and celebrate cultures that have been victimized by genocide and oppression.”
That includes “language justice,” he says. “It was important for us to find a name for the new organization that was not referenced in a tokenizing way, but in a deep, engaged way with the landscape and the history.” So they chose the name “Topa,” the Chumash word for the reeds or rushes that used to be in this area and were at one point nearly extinct.
All the residential buildings on the grounds, from yurts to domed structures, were destroyed in the fire. Groups that visit for multiple days will eventually be o ered a range of “camping, glamping, and luxury”
“... An ancient communication practice where people sit in a circle and tell stories while speaking and listening from the heart.”residential options, Rob says. “So we’ll have on-site camping where you can bring your own tents, and a glamping facility with yurts for sleeping.” Plans are also underway for a kitchen and dining facility.
Eventually, Rob says, the institute hopes to create a retreat center that will include more accommodations, and serve as a home for artistic programming as well as up to 15 artists-in-residence.
One such artist is already at work at the institute, eco-artist Skip Schuckmann, who among other projects has created sacred areas inspired by kivas — circular ceremonial spaces used by the Pueblo people. Usually they are built underground; Schuckmann has carved the institute’s kiva-style spaces out of the rocks and landscape.
Another sacred structure on the grounds is the Council House, which survived the Thomas Fire with minimal damage. The sustainable structure, built in the 1990s
with locally sourced materials and designed by local architect Jane Carroll, is circular, with a “living” roof — plants grow on it — and a mesquite floor.
The institute plans to launch a capital campaign within the next few years to fund new buildings, designed with fire safety and sustainability in mind.
Meanwhile, the Teaching Tree watches and listens. Visitors are invited to rest beneath her branches, as Ojai Foundation leader Joan Halifax once wrote, like the Buddha, who “sat down under a tree for a long time, and vowed not to leave that spot till he found the truth.”
Visitors are welcome to visit the grounds of the Topa Institute for free from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays. For more information, visit www.topa.institute or call 805-646-8343.
The printed comic strip is a long-adored art form dating back to the 1820s with The Glasgow Looking Glass. Two centuries later, the Ojai Valley News keeps the comic strip tradition alive, entrusting local artist Paula Pugh with all things satirical around Ojai, from local politics to... well, mostly local politics.
I sat down with Paula to talk about her love of comics and animation, how to turn your childhood trauma into art, the importance of living in a society that remembers how to laugh at itself, and the evergreen slogan “Keep Ojai Weird.”
In keeping with the weird theme, Paula asked that I conduct her interview at the Ojai Jail behind Libbey Park. Call it her “other art studio.” In her youth, Paula and her grandmother walked the bike path often, and to this day, the defunct jail remains one of her favorite places in town. Raised in the Ojai Valley and surrounding areas, Paula has Chumash heritage, which led to a lot of bullying as a child. It’s partly what drove her to art.
“Some of those bullies are still here,” she says. “They’ve mellowed out, but that stu still sticks. I don’t know if they remember it the same way I do. With a few of them, there’s a bit of redemption. Once you realize why they were being bullies, you have more sympathy. It’s like, ‘Oh, you were going through your own drama.’ When I moved to Meiners Oaks, it changed. I had lots of wonderful friends and teachers who were helpful and supportive. But I’d been so tormented that I was still in fight mode. When boys would make remarks, I was like, ‘You wanna look at me? All right, let’s go.’ I established a reputation of ‘don’t mess with her,’ but it settled over time. Anyway, a little childhood trauma builds character. You know, the right type. Not too much, but it can kind of help.”
by GREGG STEWART
Far left: Mindful Citizen. “Don’t worry your little head about it. I will do the thinking for you, because only I know how to make Ojai great again!”
Left: Summer heat is back in the classroom.
Above: Local democracy terrifies a member of status quo.
She gives a warm, beaming smile, and I ask how she worked through the pain from those early years. Paula says she took the angst from her youth and channeled it into art. “I started as soon as I could pick up a pencil. My mom’s thing was ‘color in the lines.’ If you’re going to do it, learn how to keep it clean and polished. So many kids get a coloring book, and their parents say, ‘Oh, they’re being free.’ I’m like, ‘No, get some structure.’
“Art is another world away, and sometimes my brain feels like it’s its own universe. I see things in my head that I need to put on paper. I used to wonder, ‘Okay, well, how do I do that?’ And the more I practiced and saw how other characters were drawn, I thought, ‘Okay, I’m gonna do my best to draw what they look like and what I see on screen.’”
Those skills helped her to develop the characters her imagination was conjuring, she says. “I’ve had nightmares about many of the characters I create. I feel compelled to draw those characters in a form I could understand, and then I would torture them because
they tortured me,” she says with a laugh. “Art is what I need to do to rationalize what I’m going through”. As with any creative outlet, she sees art as escapism, but also healing.
Paula shares the term “vent art,” which I’d never heard before. She describes it as feeling bad and needing to draw something intense to let it out. I have the sudden recollection of an incident in third grade when I drew my teacher with planes flying overhead, dropping bombs on her. I didn’t know it was “vent art,” and I got into a lot of trouble, but I like that Paula’s taught me it’s okay to grant myself (and kids especially) the space to let that angst out.
“I used to draw a lot more vent art,” she says, “but my body is telling me I sit and draw a lot. I need to get up and walk more. So now I’ve figured out other ways to deal with that stu . I talk about it, go outside, get sunshine, see what’s going on. I need to do those things to recover, not just draw.”
In a world where more and more printed magazines, comics, and newspapers are going away, Paula is aware of her unique position and is grateful for the opportunity to see her work in print.
She admits that a lot of talented artists are out there, and many more people might be quicker than her, but she’s not concerned. “If they decide to get somebody faster and cheaper, what can I do?” she says. “There’s always self-doubt, but with the newspaper, I threw my work in there, and they liked it. It’s a challenge. It’s a weekly thing that keeps me thinking on my toes to do something di erent each time. I’m just thankful they’re cool with the things I show them. They give a lot of suggestions, and I’ve tried to add more contemporary jokes. The readers don’t always get my references, but I have to throw my sense of humor in there somehow.”
The obscure humor is what makes Paula’s work special— She adds a unique spin to the topics that a ect us.
I ask about her inspiration and the characters she uses. “Animals tend to represent certain personality types sometimes better than the people themselves,” she says. “And I feel like more people have that suspension of disbelief and empathy if you draw an elephant talking at a waitress instead of a person.”
She doesn’t like drawing specific people, especially political figures around town. “My philosophy is let’s not disparage anyone directly because it’s not about the specific person. They could be dealing with circumstances out of their control. And they’re in a tough position. There’s pressure. So it feels better to go after the position, and not the person.”
Paula explains that you can poke fun at a policy or a decision while showing compassion for the person behind those policies. You don’t want to assault someone’s character, she says.
“These are local people, and unless they’re doing something criminal, you don’t know what they’re going through. Everyone’s doing their best. Especially on a smaller scale.”
I ask Paula to cite a few of her comic strips she is proud of. “I like the donut comic I recently did,” she replies. “I had no idea it was National Donut Day when it was released. I just like donuts. I thought, ‘Oh, that works even better.’ Ojai is like a donut. The donut hole, but not the whole donut.”
Paula mentions Gary Larson’s The Far Side, one of the game-changing comic strips from the 1980s, including one called “Cow Tools: “There’s a cow sitting in front of a workbench with a barn in the background, and in front are a crude saw and a few other objects. And it just says: ‘Cow Tools.’ It’s so obtuse, like, ‘Okay, these are cow tools.’ You either accept it or drive yourself mad thinking about it. I don’t know if I could ever do a ‘Cow Tools’ for the Ojai Valley News.”
After “Cow Tools” was published in October 1982, people wrote and called demanding an explanation. It might be the most o -the-wall and weirdest comic strip ever, and we encourage Paula to keep striving for that level of absurdity in her work. She agrees it takes a daring newspaper to publish obtuse comics for the sake of obtusity, and she appreciates the opportunity to share her art each week as she works to “Keep Ojai Weird.”
For more of Paula Pugh’s artistry, find her on Instagram, @anniemae04, or pick up a copy of the Ojai Valley News.
www.ojaivalleynews.com/opinion/editorial_cartoon
It isn’t the skin-slicing, finger-ripping, strength-sapping dead weight. It isn’t the heavy, thick green body bags with a window that is impossible to ignore no matter how hard you try NOT to look inside. And it isn’t the endless flood of bodies, or the inevitable paperwork. No, what stays with you is the sound a human head makes when it smacks against the inside wall of a refrigerated van. That’s the sound the head of a
dead body makes after you’ve heaved that fallen soldier 3 feet up in the air and slung their broken corpse 6 feet down the van on top of the four layers of other fallen Ukrainian soldiers that you loaded in over the previous hour — or, hours.
Back in February I happened to catch a piece on CNN by Clarissa Ward. What seeped into my consciousness was a tangle of “Ukraine,” “volunteers,”
words and photos by NIGEL CHISHOLM
Nigel Chisholm is the owner of Feros Ferio Winery in Ojai, www.ferosferiowine.com
“fallen soldiers,” “A job few would have the stamina to do,” and “It’s very hard … not everyone has the psyche for it.” That was enough for me to rewind the piece and pay full attention.
Clarissa’s piece on “Bulldozer” hit me like a ton of bricks. I had been to Ukraine previously where I worked for the fabulous organization Siobhan’s Trust. I had learned about them from CNN, too.
After processing for a few days and
trying to understand my motivation (and failing), I shared a plan with my wife. We found a hole in my schedule and after an exhaustive search, I tracked down and contacted Bulldozer — a collection of 15 people and 14 refrigerated vans with no formal status or funding source. I then planned my 50+ hour journey from Ojai to Dnipro. Bulldozer collects the bodies of Ukrainian soldiers and returns them home to their families. In the early period of the war there was no formal process for this. Now, sadly, there is a process in place and most collections and returns are morgue-to-morgue transfers. As a necessity of war, there are now makeshift morgues everywhere. As you might imagine, they aren’t pretty.
OFAs Bulldozer also retrieves the fallen from the front lines, their work is fraught with danger. With this in mind, I called both of my daughters in London and Sydney to tell them what dad was up to now and that I loved them. Like my wife, neither was happy but neither attempted to change my mind. I asked not for their understanding but their acceptance and explained that they would always know that if I was to go out in this manner, then at least I’d be going down trying to do something for others.
It certainly wouldn’t be the worst way to be remembered.
Ukraine looks and feels like a normal country for the most part. It’s like someone imagined a huge, beautiful, incredibly productive farm and decided it should be a country. The west is very di erent from the east in both “feel” and infrastructure. The north and west speak Ukrainian while the south and east speak Russian. This is why the actual fighting of the war is now restricted to the south and east.
Everybody I met had family on
both sides of the border. None could understand exactly what was happening. But they all realized that they didn’t need to understand it, they just needed to accept it. They accepted that they may never speak with their mother, father, brother, or sister again. Nor their children. Not because they may be killed in the war, but because, even though everyone lived, or grew up, in Ukraine, some supported Russia.
The focus of Clarissa Ward’s CNN piece was Oleg Repnoy. Oleg used to be a millionaire. He is an architect whose work graces downtown Dnipro. He lost his fortune in the crash of 2007 but made much of it back again before the war. He now lives in a hovel. I know this because I’ve been in it. He has given his life and fortune to Bulldozer since the 2014 invasion and annexation of Crimea.
Ukrainians mark this war from 2014, not from Feb. 24, 2022, when Russian tanks crossed the Ukrainian/Belarusian border.
OLEG’S FATHER WAS A SOVIET OFFICER. HIS MOTHER WAS BORN IN RUSSIA AND HIS SON LIVES IN MOSCOW. THEY ALL SUPPORT RUSSIA. OLEG’S WEALTHY BROTHER, WITH WHOM HE GREW UP IN DNIPRO, AND WHO FLIES AROUND THE WORLD ON HIS UKRAINIAN PASSPORT, SUPPORTS RUSSIA, TOO. HIS DAUGHTER, WHO LIVES IN FRANCE, AND HIS OTHER SON IN KYIV, SUPPORT UKRAINE.
While his family has been torn asunder and, for the most part, don’t speak, his mother and father worry constantly about his work with Bulldozer.
Yet, they refuse to accept that the Russians are the ones bombing their own city and firing RPGs at their son. When asked “Why?” Oleg shrugs and with a wry smile says that they only watch Russian TV.
thought but one I could never shake.
My first visit to a morgue was to collect Volodimir. That first fallen soldier proved to be emblematic of nearly every collection thereafter. Hurry up and wait. Sometimes we waited for paperwork, sometimes for the body, other times for clearance. Rarely were we in and out in less than an hour.
In fact, in the previous 12 months she had aged by 125,000 miles. Emblazoned on the vans is the number 200. That is the code for the transportation of fallen soldiers. It originated during the Russian invasion of Afghanistan and was the number of the form used when a soldier was killed.
It was an uncomfortable first meeting. For them, I was the first foreigner they had permitted to work with them, and while I was welcomed warmly, they didn’t have the time, energy, need, or desire to coddle me. My presence confused them. For me, I just didn’t want to cause extra work for them. I wanted to dive right in but not overstep any unknown boundaries.
Bulldozer drivers average 3,000 to 4,000 miles every week. I had recently driven to New Orleans and back in a week, which was about 4,000 miles from and to Ventura. That was on well-paved roads stretching out to lovely horizons.
While the main roads in Ukraine are decent, many people still don’t live in towns with main approach routes. Often, getting up to 10 mph was an achievement, and after four straight hours of that, it could get a bit uncomfortable.
I often thought about the fallen soldiers we were carrying home during those hours, hoping they were okay back there. It was a strange
If you can imagine that an average day included at least five morgues to collect multiple fallen soldiers, you can also imagine that getting the bodies home didn’t always happen on the same day. Driving through the night and catching a bit of sleep in the van was a regular occurrence.
As an obvious outsider, not wearing military garb, I kept as low a profile as I could. We always walked straight past the waiting families and into whatever passed as an o ce. Our arrival wasn’t always expected, but we were always taken care of immediately. I felt uncomfortable “jumping the line,” but our job was to take our fallen home — which was usually a long way away.
Walking through throngs of family members whose fallen soldier had arrived in the place they once lived was a sobering experience. The tears they shed were accompanied by a steely acceptance that this was the price to be paid.
Plans and directions changed incredibly regularly, and we would suddenly find ourselves going in the opposite direction to the hometown of some of the bodies in our van. On those occasions we would meet up with another Bulldozer driver who had a similar issue and trade bodies. Later in the day those same bodies may be traded o to yet another Bulldozer driver as necessary.
The most startling of these occasions was the first one, not because it was
the first one but because we met in the middle of Kyiv during morning rush hour, pulled over to the side of the road, and transferred bodies right there. That nobody blinked an eye is tragically indicative of the situation in Ukraine and how the war has inculcated its way into the life of its citizens.
There are roadblocks all over Ukraine, and we were always treated reverentially when passing through one, especially when we were close to the front lines. I felt honored to be working with Bulldozer and returning the fallen. It is physically hard and psychologically fraught work in general. But, especially so when the Millennium Falcon is escorted through the town of a fallen soldier and every single person on the street drops down to one knee and bows their head to pay homage to whomever the Falcon is carrying.
Most would not know the name of the fallen soldier inside. But it doesn’t matter. They know one of their own has sacrificed their life for them and their country. Words cannot convey the devastating emotional impact of witnessing even once such a display, let alone being the focus of such displays regularly.
I WAS GREETED AT THE MORGUE IN DNIPRO THE MORNING AFTER I ARRIVED BY ALEX, OLEG AND THE MILLENIUM FALCON, MY HOME FOR THE NEXT 10 DAYS. SHE WAS 500,000+ MILES OLD AND NOT GETTING ANY YOUNGER.Above: Families awaiting the arrival of their fallen relative.
One such incredibly di cult moment occurred when we were carrying a beloved commander away from the front lines of Zaporizhzhia. He was killed by a vacuum bomb. Essentially, a vacuum bomb sucks all of the oxygen from the air to generate its explosive force. The commander’s body was in one piece, but inside he was destroyed.
As we slowly approached in the Millennium Falcon, his rugged soldiers, with tears streaming down their cheeks, dropped onto one knee and bowed their heads.
In a show of solidarity, determination, and defiance, with head still bowed, each raised an arm high toward the heavens and clenched their fists.
Three days after arriving in Ukraine, I realized from the information on the body bag tags that we were collecting soldiers who were alive when I arrived and had fallen after. That was a sobering moment and one that made me stop and consider the fragility of life, mine included.
We drove down roads 5 km from the Russian border that were lined with minefields as far as the eye could see, miles of tank-traps, and other impediments to another Russian attack. Woods had been cleared so there was nowhere for the enemy to hide.
We were close enough to the border and on the same road where Oleg had previously been shelled and shot at as he was relieving himself. Needless to say, we didn’t stop there again. We drove down roads with buildings and houses that had been destroyed by missiles and tanks, devastated countryside, and shattered trees.
To drive on the roads and see how far the Russians penetrated into Ukraine and how close they got to Kyiv was astounding. What was more remarkable was to see the hundreds of miles the Ukrainians had pushed them back with what was then a ragtag, under-resourced army. The road signs to Kyiv are painted out, originally to buy the Ukrainian defenders time. Apparently, that was enough to confuse the Russian military as to which direction they were going.
WE WERE CLOSE ENOUGH TO THE BORDER AND ON THE SAME ROAD WHERE OLEG HAD PREVIOUSLY BEEN SHELLED AND SHOT AT AS HE WAS RELIEVING HIMSELF.
Sometimes it’s the little things!
We returned a couple of soldiers to Sumy, a city in northeastern Ukraine that literally turned the might of the Russian army back with minimal weaponry, WWII rifles, and hastily erected roadblocks. On the way to Sumy we had a choice of two roads, both awful beyond belief. On the advice of another Bulldozer driver, we went right instead of left. As it turned out, if we had turned left, we may not have made it to Sumy that night, or any other night. A town on the other road was heavily bombed at about the same time we would have been passing through it, leveling 42 houses. That represents the randomness of this war. While, as I mentioned earlier, most of Ukraine looks and acts normally, it is anything but. In Lviv I could go out to bars, clubs, and pubs, eat any type of food I wanted (I chose Thai), stay in wonderful hotels, and take a stroll through
throughout Ukraine. Whilst combat is primarily restricted to the Donetsk, Luhansk, Kharkiv, and Zaporizhzhia oblasts, the terroristic tactics of the Russian military encompass the entirety of Ukraine, as our Sumy run proves. No one is safe. Seeing multiple destroyed apartment buildings and houses where many hundreds died without waking up brought to mind the children’s nighttime prayer “Now I lay me down to sleep … .” Even as an atheist, I can’t think of more fitting words to share with children as they are tucked in for what is the most challenging part of every day.
Many people can’t rest at night, yet when the air raid sirens woke me, I just turned over and went back to sleep. I can’t say that I was being either brave or stupid. In such a short time, I had seen the horror and randomness of this war exhibited in such a stark manner. I had come to believe that nowhere was more safe than anywhere else and that moving around increased my chances of being hit or buried in the basement or underground carpark of a collapsed
I made a point of knowing the names of each of the hundred or so soldiers whom we took home during my time with Bulldozer. One of them was named Vitali. I remember Vitali for the single reason that he had no surviving family at all. When we dropped his body o , I realized there would be no one to remember his life, his milestones, his successes or his struggles. No one would visit his grave and no one would tell stories about him. He was just — gone. As we drove away from Vitali the silence in the van was deafening.
I have found a way to remember Vitali and for his life to have meaning beyond his death. If you’d like to know what that is, go to www.vitaliwine.com.
break open, displaying the shattered remains of the fallen soldier inside. I got used to it. What I never got used to was how ashamed I felt when the handle of a body bag would rip away, sending the fallen soldier to the floor. It happened regularly and, every time, I truly believed that I had failed in the single job I had: to respect and honor the sacrifice of that soldier. It didn’t just happen to me but, as the only outsider, it felt like it did.
THE BODY FROM THE FLOOR BY SCOOPING UP THE HALF I WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR IN ANY WAY THAT I COULD, ONLY TO BE GENTLY
After a final 28-hour run all over Ukraine, taking 15 fallen soldiers home, Oleg dropped me o in Lviv for my bus ride to Warsaw and flight home. There is a Belgian beer bar in Old Town Warsaw that, over my four visits, I have adopted and has adopted me. I went there and called my wife.
“Do you want to stay?” she said.
“Yes,” I replied. “I haven’t done enough. I helped. I know that. But, I feel like I’m abandoning them. I can do more.” I still feel that way.
Nigel is now referred to by Bulldozer as their own Foreign Legion. He returned to Ukraine, and Bulldozer, on Aug. 1, 2023.
its beautiful and historic center. Yet, throughout Ukraine, there is a 10 p.m. curfew because late at night is when the terror begins. Nary a night passes when the air raid sirens don’t cry. This is true for most cities and large towns
So, it was. Every day filled with dead bodies and nights filled with wailing air raid sirens, sleeping upright, or not sleeping at all. All Bulldozer drivers preferred the white body bags, which never broke. Black body bags would
DIRECTED, BY OLEG, TO GET ANOTHER BODY BAG AND PLACE THE SOLDIER IN THAT.Part of the Bulldozer family in Dnipro. https://youtu.be/_ylzD0_40B0
4:30am in Lviv. War’s beaurocracy. The whiteboard records the number of the bodies we’d had in the van.
SO, IT WAS. EVERY DAY FILLED WITH DEAD BODIES AND NIGHTS FILLED WITH WAILING AIR RAID SIRENS, SLEEPING UPRIGHT, OR NOT SLEEPING AT ALL.
ADA, Medicare Card Holders, and Seniors 65-74 are 1/2 price. Seniors 75 and over, children under 45” tall and all students are FREE riders on the Trolley
e Ojai Trolley Service, established in 1989, is owned and operated by the City of Ojai. e Trolley provides daily xed-route transportation to approximately 9,000 riders per month throughout Ojai, Meiners Oaks and Mira Monte.
408 South Signal Street, Ojai, CA 93024 Phone (805) 272 3883 • E-mail: transit@ojai.ca.gov • www.ojaitrolley.com
by GREGG STEWART
photos by RENEE FAIA
Not long after completing that album, Brendan joined the band Grizfolk for a world tour, and Syd went on tour with label-mate Mia Dyson, so the record never got its due. Years later, when Brendan moved back to Ojai, he met Syd at “The Artist Formerly Known as Beacon Co ee” and asked him to produce his second solo album. This record would become the first sessions the Echo Magic crew collaborated on. That was pre-pandemic, and Brendan is finally releasing his record In The Colors this year. How the album came to be in its current form is the stu of musical lore.
Daniel tells us: “Syd and I were on the way to a Radio Skies show in Venice, and we listened to Brendan’s demos. Syd invited me to work on the record and I was like, ‘Yeah, this guy’s a great songwriter.’”
Syd had also invited Brendan to the Radio Skies show in Venice. Brendan describes it as a pivotal moment in life — not only seeing Daniel and Syd play, but Scott was in the audience as well, along with Brendan’s future wife.
Syd says with a laugh, “Literally, Brendan met the woman that he is now married to — that night!”
Brendan deems it one of those life-altering decisions. “I’m sure it was preordained. It’s one of those things, you know?”
For the In The Colors album, the band consisted of Brendan, Daniel, Syd, and Scott, with Mikael Jorgensen (from the band Wilco) on keys. The guys recorded the album live in the studio, and that’s when everything started to click.
After this studio experience, the guys were soon collaborating on one another’s solo projects and records for other artists such as Greg Loiacono, Mia Dyson, and Bayard Hollins.
The Echo Magic label now boasts dozens of albums in its discography, all with a diverse sound, though there is a clear aesthetic at work. While spinning some of the labels’ latest vinyl, my wife, Renee, and I called it “majestic electric folk.” It’s woodsy, breezy, and kinda chill, but with a cinematic feel that embraces and accentuates the surrounding mountains, star-filled night sky, and natural beauty of the Ojai Valley.
Daniel tells us: “There is a magnetism in this town. You could go to a similar-sized town and not have all those amazing connections that we had here.”
Syd adds: “It’s not to say that we are the creators of an Ojai sound. We’re one documentary crew that’s inside Ojai taking a picture of what we see. And that keeps expressing itself on the records in a way where we listen back and I’m like, ‘Wow, that’s our sound.’”
“That’s the hope,” Scott says. “I definitely remember saying, ‘I don’t want a record label.’ Then Syd put the seed in my brain, and I realized — although all the artists and music profiles are a little di erent — there’s something here. I don’t know what it is, but my hope is that in a few more records from now it will be identifiable. Like, this is the Echo Magic sound and Ojai is the petri dish that it all grows in.”
Listening to the albums on the Echo Magic record label, it’s clear the guys are building something special with global appeal, but based in their little corner of the world.
It’s an unspoken mandate all artists are tasked with — you take in the world around you, metabolize and process it, try to make some sense of it, and it comes out as art.
Daniel says, “At the end of the day it’s about echoing the magic of our collaborators.”
“That’s been a constant theme,” Syd agrees. “Echo the magic. We all have a di erent way of approaching production, but we’re always looking at what’s in front of us and asking, ‘What makes this special?’ You try to
New releases on the Echo Magic label: Brendan Willing James In The Colors, Scott Hirsch Ghost of Windless Day, and Song Preservation Society Everyothersomewhere.echo what you’re seeing and hold up a mirror for the artist, and be like, ‘This is what makes you special, and this is how we can elevate that.’ In some cases it means sitting down and working on the songs together, or sometimes you show up, get handed a chart, and intuitively know whether it’s right to say, ‘Hey, I think we should do the chorus here instead of here,’ or just zip it and play.”
The guys agree it’s all about reading the vibe in the room. “One of the things I love about this group and about what we’ve been building is that we’re becoming men and women and adults who don’t have to have their way all the time like you did in your 20s, or fight it out over that chord or whatever,” Syd says. “I feel like a lot of times we’re parenting these records into the world rather than forcing it.”
Our conversation shifts to what’s next for the Echo Magic crew, and they mention two records on the near horizon. The first is a new album by Mia Dyson. They recorded at Lucy’s Meat Market in Los Angeles and finished in Ojai. The second is the long-anticipated new album from Radio Skies, Floats Away.
“Post-pandemic, it’s like we’re restarting the machinery,” Syd tells us. It began last summer with the Sunday Rambles, where the band played extended brunch sets at Farmer and The Cook.
“It was a very grounding experience for us,” Syd says. “To come here on Sundays and play, to honor this music that we love, and to get the wheels starting again.”
We ask if they intentionally collaborate on every project. They admit it’s just what organically happens. They say it’s often more emotional support, checking in and sharing their work.
There is a tremendous amount of mutual respect and work and
their willingness to play to each other’s strengths. The guys refer to their work ethic as keeping a “curious humility.” They respect the relief that comes with trusting their bandmates and collaborators. They’ve found that balance, knowing when to say, “This is your ship and I’m grateful to be on this ride,” and when to say, “This is my baby and I’m so thankful you have my back.” We appreciate that they’re all making music, but they could just as easily be coaching a few Fortune 500 companies on how to lead with trust and love.
“It comes down to deep listening,” Daniel says.
Brendan agrees with this sentiment. “Eventually you make something, and all these interactions infuse into the music, and it feels like Ojai, it feels like this community, and a place for collaboration and experimentation.”
Scott says: “There’s the four of us on all the calls, but it’s really a 10-person operation. There’s musicians and people that we bring in for every project. And our families are always involved, so it’s a communal e ort.”
Daniel adds: “This last year has been intense, but with trust, there’s these new levels that make me excited about our future. There’s a ‘let’s get better at life together’ element. We push each other, and hit each other up for a run, or go to a yoga class, we help each other with all kinds of stu and show up for each other when it counts.”
For more information on Echo Magic music, live shows, and record release dates, visit echo-magic.com or dive into the Echo Magic Work playlist on Spotify.
For years, the unpaid interns of chef René Redzepi’s house of Nordic gastronomy in Copenhagen have been slavishly tweezing three stars from the Michelin galaxy and carefully placing them on tiny little plates for $500 a dollop. According to an article in The New York Times by Julia Moskins on Jan. 9, chef René has hit a breaking point: Fine dining at Noma and fine dining in general are no longer sustainable. The cost of labor, price of ingredients, and pressure to create were Redzepi’s primary complaints leading to the decision to change Noma from a culinary destination to a test kitchen.
Noma’s menu has been lauded for its inventiveness; one doesn’t think of cuisine in Northern Europe any longer without imagining the blond birch modernist long halls, tables lined with arctic hare, and a sous chef wandering the forest nearby making use of hyperlocal ingredients for the restaurant’s Game and Forest menus. Dishes like reindeer brain custards topped with pheasant broth and braised seaweed served inside a reindeer skull have inspired countless chefs and called people to Norway since Noma opened its doors on Nov. 23, 2003. Certainly, chef René deserves all the praise he’s received for pushing fine dining beyond Pommes Purée or caviar starter with 72 evenly placed cauliflower dots that earned Michelin heavyweight chef Joël Robuchon enough stars (32) to keep his name permanently lit.
What made Noma special was chef
René’s ability to carry the ingredients and techniques beyond the white tablecloth into a realm both ancient and new. How else would you serve reindeer penis ragout but nestled in a leaf? (Yes, this is a real dish.) Or how can you truly enjoy a spoonable duck brain without eating it directly from the skull with the bill still attached? (Google it.) Anyone who’s had sa ron ice cream and Mexican chocolate served in anything but a beeswax bowl can tell you it’s garbage. Surely, only a modern mind and palate that evolved over 2 million years could possibly invent and appreciate these kinds of culinary o erings.
I sent an email to Ojai’s own culinary rising star, Andrew Foskey, chef de cuisine and culinary director of restaurants at the Ojai Valley Inn, to get his thoughts on Noma’s closing. Here is some of what he said:
“I see cuisine moving in the direction of simplicity, and as an unintentional result, provoking our most primal of emotions, nourishment.
“Among the fine dining world, the emotional response of the diner is being driven by more ‘non-food’ touches in order to provoke a sense of place and feelings. … I personally feel that Noma closing is a good thing for the industry (... and I feel chef Redzepi would agree). And just like our distant ancestors evolved, fine dining will do the same, reshaping itself to something that works within the restraints of modern-day obstacles (i.e., labor, food costs, and supply chain). ... I cook from my heart, primal emotion with the sole purpose of nourishing people, feeding
them all while paying respect to the people that grow the food. … Fine dining or casual, it doesn’t matter to me, I just want to evoke a sensation of nourishment and warmth. … I feel this falls in line with how (all) the generations before us have looked at cooking and food, even as they evolved over centuries.”
Speaking of evolution, I never put much thought into what Neanderthals ate. In my mind, they were always huddled over some poor animal they’d just chased o a cli , ripping
If you were heading to Norway to catch the Northern Lights and a quick bite of moss garnished with wild sea cucumber blubber, don’t bother— the world’s most celebrated restaurant, Noma, is closing its doors by the end of 2024.Inside the kitchen of Noma, René Redzepi’s house of Nordic gastronomy. Photo: City Foodsters, Wikimedia CC
and tearing at the raw meat and occasionally furtively looking to see if there was a saber-toothed tiger or lion nearby. I imagined their process of eating to be a violent, dangerous act both for them and whatever they were consuming. In my mind, meat was always the only thing on the menu.
Naked, bloody, hairy, and angry, mealtime for the Neanderthal was a joyless and hurried a air; it was less of a dinner and more of a gang fight. I pictured something close to a starving hyena pack feasting on an impala like Quentin Tarantino directing a scene out of The Clan of the Cave Bear. I also just assumed that food was eaten where it was killed and that nothing was prepared, cooked, seasoned, savored, or saved. As soon as the clan was done with the meal, they collapsed unconscious on their distended bellies until they woke up and began looking for the next one, and so on and so forth from 70,000 years ago until about 10,000 to 15,000 years ago when humans finally woke up to culture in the agrarian age, started saving some seeds, and began wearing Blundstones, shorn beards, and plaid at the local farmers markets.
In November of 2022, a number of fascinating articles came out about the Neanderthal diet. Most of them centered on research conducted at Shanidar Cave in modern-day Iraq. Neanderthals and other early humans had continuously inhabited the cave from 80,000 years ago until about 3,000 years ago, and already had some fame. They are often referred to as the “Flower People’’ because of the
amount of edible herbs and flowers found there. This is where the scripts around Neanderthals flipped. The new idea unearthed in research in the early ’70s rewrote the old story that Neanderthals were stationary and unceremonious into a blossoming concept where a reverence of the dead led to decorating their loved ones’ memories and supposed burial sites. It suggested that these early Neanderthal people were evolved enough to have developed burial rituals and send their loved ones o to the other side with a bouquet of cerulean blue bachelor buttons and some sweetsmelling chamomile to help them sleep better.
Now, scratch that. Researchers currently hypothesize that this plant and herbal material was probably brought in years after these burials by reverent Persian jird and other rodents who also called Shanidar home. Initially the attention was on the flowers and herbs in death instead of on how the plants were a part of everyday life. What emerged from this cave was a broader understanding of what and how early humans ate. It wasn’t just a bunch of charred meat seasoned with dirt, but a fairly wide array of pulses, grasses, herbs, and protein.
Chef Foskey’s words, Julia Moskins’ New York Times article and the host of other articles I read from the British Academy, Smithsonian Magazine, and Cambridge University Press got me daydreaming about what a visiting Neanderthal guest’s review of eating in the schmancy resort’s Stonehouse at Shanidar Cave might have been like on Tripadvisor:
“Ihave never written a review before, but my partner and I just had a magical weekend at the Shanidar Spa and Resort in the Zagros Mountains and I feel like telling everyone about it. The same group of people are always down by the river, and over the last two years, every time I go to gather some water they are raving about ‘The Shani.’ Now, I’ve never been one who just blindly goes along with the herd, so I admit that I was a little bit skeptical.
“My partner never complains about the meals I make or the way I keep the cave, so how great could this place really be? Also, though I wouldn’t call us cheap, we’ve always been careful what we’re willing to trade for. A lot of those people down at the watering hole have been born under a good moon. Some of their parents lived to 35 years and even 40, so they had plenty of time to spend gathering things and expanding their clan. My partner and I have had to work hard for everything we’ve got, so we almost never leave the home. But after months of subtly hinting that our 100 moon anniversary date was coming up, I wanted to do something special.
“How to describe it? Well, first of all, there’s the location. It’s high in the Zagros Mountains about 1,320 steps from the Great Zab River. It takes about a week of walking from down river, but if you do it three moons after the shortest day of the year, the weather is nice and the predator threat is pretty low. You can see the grand entrance from at least 2,600 steps away as you make the final bend. And oh, my gods, it’s huge. And once you get inside, the great room is 110 leg-bones wide and 86 leg-bones deep. If it wasn’t for the aurochs tallow lamps you could totally get lost in there.
“Every guest is assigned a spot in the great room upon arrival. The full-time dwellers are super friendly and most of them speak grunt or hand language. Every spot on the ground comes with two goat pelts and a personal fire pit, in case it gets drafty. There are day hikes to a waterfall, and spa treatments from the three on-sta shamans. I got a mud bath and some dental work. My partner got an adjustment for his bum leg that never healed right after last year’s rockfall.
“But, the biggest surprise was the food!! The chef at ‘The Shani’ is amazing!!! You start out every morning with something called … pancakes?! I never thought to soak pulses in animal bladders, grind them up with herbs and grain, then bake them. The presentation was beautiful. Each pancake came with a side of freshly harvested berries and garnished with wild herbs from the Zagros Mountians hunter/gatherers market. Lunch was river snails and spiny heeled tortoise soup. It was also perfectly seasoned and served in a tortoise shell! And for dinner, we had the house-made goat (who would have thought that pounding and slow-smoking it would make such a di erence?). I’ve never had anything that tender. It came with a side salad of wild harvested grasses.
“It was so good that my partner didn’t even grumble when it came time to trade points for the bill. Oh, and don’t miss the gift shop; this place is full of crystals, very soft hides, points, real burin chisels, the latest in denticulate kitchen gadgets, cave bear flutes, ornaments, and some really nice engravings made by local artists. I treated myself to a Mousterian woven throw blanket that really ties the cave together. My partner and I couldn’t stop raving about it on our walk home. I hope I don’t have to wait another 100 moons to go back.”
After reading the articles about Shanidar Cave, and deep diving on Neanderthal cuisine taking me on a tour of cave eateries from Amud to Misliya to Apidima and eventually to the Neolithic settlement of Jiahu in China, I started thinking about another hidden player in the “Big Brain” game: The real key to unlocking the mind is the palate. Food and the flavor of di erent foods have unequivocally changed me most profoundly. Herbs and spices weren’t just used to make things tastier; they were practical. Salt was our first refrigerator — who can eat an entire deer in one sitting? Peppers and spices were our first to-go box — what are we gonna do with all this pig? Maybe “magic” mushrooms paved new neural pathways, but they would just be frightening neon
freeways without the umami that grows in the medians.
I submit that food and all its flavors are the ingredients we use to make sense of the soup of our lives and the pot from which we ladle its broth into bowls labeled necessity, excess, nourishment, and love. Alcohol and “plant medicines” merely crack the door on reality, but food blows the door o its hinges and deposits you into the timeless hallway of the world.
Almost all religions include food in their belief system, sometimes with the deliberate denial of food. Christ turned his body into bread. Kosher and Halal rules around eating and how food must be prepared and subsequently consumed aren’t arbitrary; they’re timehonored traditions designed to ensure
that the fuel for prayer is clean and the soul stream unpolluted.
If food is the coal that drives the train, then spice is its time machine. Go back to the first time you tasted honey or fruit; can you see your family kitchen? Can you hear your ancestors’ voices? Is there a better way to reunite with those who are in a di erent realm than following their recipes or making altars of flowers and their favorite foods to call them back through the senses?
Reach across the continent and follow your way back home, to our ancestors’ home, and ultimately to our collective home — that ancient cave we all crawled out of in search of something even beyond nourishment and warmth with which to season our roots.
Would you like fries with your reindeer brains, sir? Photo: John Fonteyn
“Caroliné is a wonderful spark of life,” Ojai restaurateur Lorenzo Nicola says, discussing the vivacious, energetic spirit of Caroliné Gustafson, local queen of jams, marmalades, quiches, tarts, and other baked items. “She’s one of the great food people of Ojai. We use her delicious products in our restaurant and we sell her jam in our cafe, and look forward to seeing her at the Farmers’ Market.”
Originally from Normandy, France, Caroliné first became enamored with picking lovely yellow mirabelles, shiny red cherries, and beautiful strawberries on her grandfather’s farm, then participating in jam “cooking day,” when she was entranced by her grandmother’s preparation of the fruits, and, of course, by tasting the first bite of jam after every new harvest.
“My dad was a gentleman farmer in Normandy and my parents had a lovely apple orchard, while my grandfather’s farm had all the berries in the world,” Caroliné says as she arranges jam jars with little spoons for tasting samples in her bright, cheery, e cient commercial kitchen. “Here, try this savory one! It’s my Rosemary Bell Pepper Jam with sa ron sugar and multicolored peppers, made with rosemary from my
backyard, which supplies the herbs for several jams.”
Then, Ojai Magazine was treated to a flavorful, intriguing bite of the Spicy Heirloom Tomato Basil Red Hot Peppers
Jam — it’s perfect with manchego cheese. Caroliné explains that in Normandy, most families have several jams open in their refrigerators.
“For the French, jams are not merely for toast and breakfast,” she says. “Rather, we often use them for charcuteries to accompany all our wonderful European cheeses such as manchego cheese from Spain, the Basque cheeses, bries, and Camembert, as well as with omelets, sandwiches, meats, and as a tapenade.”
Caroliné also makes wonderful tarts, such as Goat Cheese and Leek Tart using her grandmother’s crust recipe and, for
the filling, her Rosemary Bell Pepper Jam, which adds complexity to the dish and brilliantly melds with the goat cheese and a dabble of honey, rendering intriguing, savory flavors. On the sweet side of things, her Almond Pear Tart is a perfect choice for warm summer days.
“This is the Chocolate Pixie Tart,” Caroliné says, adding: “It’s like a flan. The French have two ways to make chocolate tarts — they either layer the chocolate on the bottom, or they place the chocolate on the top.” Try Caroliné’s Quiche Lorraine, a tantalizing concoction of the usual ngredients: unbleached flour, organic butter, eggs, and cream, augmented by prosciutto, Swiss cheese, crème fraîche, parsley, salt, and pepper. Each bite excites one’s palate with its textures and tastes.
There’s more to Caroliné’s repertoire than jams, marmalades, quiches, and tarts. During the holidays, customers excitedly queue for her pies. Loyal customers also order her delightful cakes, including her le fraisier (strawberry) cake, covered with delicious strawberries.
Her journey to Ojai followed a life pursuing varied endeavors, including a career as a ski instructor in Val d’Isère in the French Alps, serving as a flight attendant for Lufthansa, working in real estate and in boutiques, and raising her son as a single mom in Ojai.
Her journey to creating Caroliné’s Jams and Marmalades began when, on a whim, she gave a jar of her scrumptious jam to a friend, the proprietor of Carolïna Gramm’s Extra Virgin Olive Oil products on Ojai Avenue. “One day, Caroliné brought me one of her fig marmalades,” Gramm says. “Now, I’m Italian and I’m very critical. But, when I tasted it, I knew it was very good! I told her she should sell in the Farmers’ Market and she ran with that, with great success. Now, I sell Caroliné’s products in my shop.”
Soon, Caroliné was selling her jams locally, starting with 25 varieties. Today, she sells 45 flavors of jam and marmalade at the Sunday Ojai Farmers’ Market and the Saturday Ventura Farmers’ Market. Guests staying at the Ojai Valley Inn also enjoy her products.
Jams. Jams. Jams. There are so many wonderful flavors to choose from! “My jams have very little sugar, so they are very healthy,” Caroliné says. “I always use local fruits,
beginning with my very first jam, Ojai Pixies Jam, for which I use a Corsican recipe. My jams are also seasonal, and during the holidays, I make Nutty Plum Christmas Jam and I o er colorful holiday gift boxes. I also make little special gift jams for Valentine’s Day.”
As with all things cuisine, locals di er regarding which jam is “the best.” For Gramm, it’s the Fig. For Nicola, it’s “a rose petal jam that is out of this world. As a Lebanese who is from the part of the world where we have such di erent tastes, I find her recipe to be at an admirably high level.”
(He’s referring to Caroliné Rose Peach Jam.) When faced with varieties from the delicate Hibiscus Flower Jelly, to the romantic Fruits De La Passion, to the celebratory Strawberry Champagne, many cannot choose just a single jar.
A proud Ojai resident, Caroliné says being in Ojai has made her “the happiest woman in the world, with my little business that brings me and my customers a lot of joy and love!” In Ojai, she says, she has realized her version of the American dream — to nurture her passion for making jams and baking.
“For me, Ojai is a place filled with love and spirituality,” Caroliné says. “There’s a great vibe here.”
Smiling broadly amid the plethora of jams, quiches, tarts, and pots and pans, Caroliné bids adieu and says, “Please tell all your readers to come see me at the Farmers’ Market — I’m always there, rain or shine! I love my customers and they love their French jam girl!”
For more information: www.ojaijam.com
story by BARBARA BURKE photos by STEPHANIE PROUTHEAUAt Mama Tree, we love our trees and we like to think they love us back.
We o er farm tours, workshops, olive oil, walnut butter, marmalade and other tasty delights. Find us at Ojai Community Farmers Market, Rainbow Bridge, and Farmer & the Cook.
mamatreeojai.com & @mamatreeojai
Admiring crowds at a Las Vegas Barrett-Jackson auction gathered around a 1956 Whale Tail Flying Cloud Airstream trailer masterfully restored by Loren Crawford of Ojai’s Matilija Vintage Trailer Restorations.
Onlookers admired the trailer’s interior showcasing Crawford’s meticulous attention to detail and masterful handiwork, including a custom walnut interior, a reclaimed solid redwood ceiling, Pendleton curtains, and a custom leather interior bench and bed seats, augmented by a commissioned, custom-made, 103-piece leaded stained-glass window bursting with color and celebrating Ojai’s bright Matilija poppies. The window was impeccably designed by the renowned Mark Tuna of Glass Visions Studio. They were also impressed by the trailer’s many modern amenities, such as a composting toilet, low-profile Dometic air conditioning and heat, a fully o -grid solar 12-volt system, a seamless shower, and all new water lines, flooring, and subflooring, among many other features. Remarkably, one need not plug the trailer in. Merely park it, immerse in nature, and enjoy.
“I grew up in a family of builders, and I’ve worked a lot in fashion helping to build sets and in construction,” Crawford says, standing in his Ojai store on Baldwin Road in the space where Leo
Gabriel operated a Volvo repair shop for 43 years. “I’m a carpenter at heart, and building and designing homes was a huge part of why I am a builder.” To restore the repair shop, “we had to remove 70 yards of concrete and install all-new electricity and tile,” Crawford says as he relaxes in his store, surrounded by a pool table, relaxing chairs, vintage Hawaiian shirts, sterling silver jewelry, chain beaded danglers by Malibu’s Beaded Wonders, a panoply of other intriguing tchotchkes and ephemera, and, of course, his two faithful dogs.
Soon, an old African grey parrot — or two — will also bless the space. “I wanted the business interior to be campy and for the store to grow organically,” Crawford says. “We will have community gatherings sometimes as well.” Crawford is both craftsman and creative, hailing from a family of actors. “My mom was a dancer in Kissin’ Cousins, once danced a solo with Elvis, and choreographed dances with Dean Martin,” Crawford says. “My dad, John Crawford, was an actor, and Gene Roddenberry was my godfather.”
Crawford regenerates the innate energy in each Airstream he re-creates. “I see each of these trailers as its own work, and I have to live with each of them for a while in order for me to have their restoration grow organically,” he says.
1956 Whale Tail Flying Cloud Airstream trailer
A graduate of the Academy of Art in San Francisco, Crawford revives trailers and horse trailers of all varieties. However, he has a penchant for restoring Airstreams manufactured in the 1940s, ’50s, and ’60s because, in his view, “they were built without a focus on planned obsolescence, and they had 13 handmade panels on their top instead of the more modern models that only have pressed, molded tops.”
His passion centers on respecting old designs and the energy inherent in handmade things. He explains that he restores the old Airstreams to honor their place within America’s legacy from more gentler times, and to preserve their past by restoring them for the next generation to enjoy. To accomplish that, each trailer is torn down to its frame and totally rebuilt with new electrical, plumbing, heating, and energy units.
“For me, the Barrett-Jackson sale was a game changer,” he says, “and now, in addition to taking down old redwood barns in Northern California and repurposing the wood, I focus on fully restoring old Airstreams and horse trailers.
“People will call me and say I can have an old trailer if I come to haul it away.” Grinning broadly, he adds: “It took four guys to remove a trailer in Texas, which was a beautiful trailer manufactured by Spartan Aircraft with the best quality of riveting. It was surrounded by 30 years of weeds and had been on the property for 60 years — we discovered that a bear had been living in it!”
Every trailer Crawford restores features custom Pendleton curtains, hemmed and seamed with chain stitches and some embroidery done by Ti any Baker. Friends help with carpentry and finishing, but otherwise, Crawford is a one-man operation.
Nicole Al-Rashid, the lucky bidder from Spicewood, Texas, who
took home the masterpiece at the auction, sings Crawford’s praises.
“Loren’s a maestro,” she says. “I love all things vintage. So, when I saw the exterior of the trailer, I was immediately drawn to it, and when I walked inside and saw the beautiful stained glass, I felt there was magic in there.”
Al-Rashid describes Crawford as a gifted craftsman who is very mindful of keeping the original integrity of a vintage trailer intact, while reinvigorating it for a glorious encore. “The best thing about our trailer is that it feels so good — it just has great energy,” Al-Rashid says. “I think that’s what Loren does with his projects. He puts his heart and soul into it.”
Sophia Miles, who owns the Deer Lodge Wild Cocktail Cart fashioned by Crawford, heartily
agrees. “Loren is so wonderful — he’s a genius!” she exclaims. “He restored our trailer, adding a beautiful, rustic, live edge redwood interior from barn wood that he has collected over the years.” Miles rents the cart for barbecues, birthdays, weddings, and other events. It is equipped with a tap system for one draft beer, chilled wine, cans of beer, and a full bar to serve custom cocktails and mixed drinks, all fashioned by Crawford to maximize every bit of the small space. “The trailer has Matilija and California poppies on its exterior and an old-fashioned style and trimming,” Miles adds.
“My initial inspiration for the trailer Loren made for me was a ’ 70s West Texas rumpus room,” Katherine Hartley says, referring to her Show Pony Mobile Bar, which operates out of a restored horse trailer.
“Customers love the Western retro bar trailer,” Hartley says. “My favorite thing about the trailer is that it’s beautiful and whimsical and it brings the community together so that everybody can have a good time.”
The Muxlow family uses their restored trailer as a co ee bar, 7 Oaks Co ee. “When I stand inside our restored trailer, I am in awe,” Andy Muxlow says. “It’s a masterpiece!” The interior of the trailer is decorated in copper and brings forth many compliments from customers. “Loren’s done a phenomenal job and we are amazed at his craftsmanship and attention to detail,” Muxlow says.
So the next time you see an old trailer — with or without a bear living in it — don’t have it hauled away to the dump. Instead, reach out to Crawford and he’ll work his magic and put it to good use. For more information, visit ojaiairstreams.com.
Left: A 1956 Airstream Flying Cloud with custom interior, including oldgrowth reclaimed redwood
Below: A 1956 Airstream Flying Cloud and a custom Mantilija Poppy stained glass window.
canvas and paper
Paintings: Frederick Hammersley
Through Oct. 15, Thurs. – Sun.
Noon – 5 p.m.
311 North Montgomery St. Free admission canvasandpaper.org
A nonprofit exhibition space showing paintings and drawings from the 20th century and earlier in thematic and single artist exhibits.
Dionne Warwick
Sept. 1, Doors: 5 p.m.;
Headliner: 7 p.m.
Libbey Bowl
210 S. Signal St., Ojai
Tickets: www.axs.com or call 888-645-5006
Gino Vannelli
Sept. 2, Doors: 5 p.m.;
Headliner: 7 p.m.
Libbey Bowl
210 S. Signal St., Ojai
Tickets: www.axs.com or call 888-645-5006
The Monkees
Celebrated by Micky Dolenz
Sept. 15, Doors: 5 p.m.;
Headliner: 7 p.m.
Libbey Bowl
210 S. Signal St., Ojai
Tickets: www.axs.com or call 888-645-5006
Don McLean: American Pie
50th Anniversary Tour
Sept. 16, Doors: 5 p.m.;
Headliner: 7 p.m.
Libbey Bowl
210 S. Signal St., Ojai
Tickets: www.axs.com or call 888-645-5006
Daughtry: Bare Bones Tour
Sept. 17, Doors: 5 p.m.;
Headliner: 7 p.m.
Libbey Bowl
210 S. Signal St., Ojai
Tickets: www.axs.com or call 888-645-5006
Gregg Karukas
Grammy-Winning Keyboardist/ Composer/Producer
Sept. 24, 3 p.m.
Beatrice Wood Center For the Arts
8585 Ojai-Santa Paula Rd. 805-646-3381 beatricewood.com
Gypsy Meets Choro
Guitarists Olli Soikkeli and Cesar
Garabini
Sept. 29, 7 p.m.
Beatrice Wood Center For the Arts
8585 Ojai-Santa Paula Rd. 805-646-3381 beatricewood.com
Led Zeppelin Tribute by Led Zepagain
Sept. 30 Doors: 5 p.m.;
Headliner: 7 p.m.
Libbey Bowl
210 S. Signal St., Ojai Tickets: www.axs.com or call 888-645-5006
Ojai Studio Artists Fall Tour
Oct. 7-9, 10 a.m. - 5 p.m. Register at ojaistudioartists.org for free registration and tour map of over 70 artist studios in the Ojai Valley.
Chamber On The Mountain Presents Project: CSQ California String Quartet Oct. 15, 3 p.m. 8585 Ojai-Santa Paula Rd. 805-646-3381 www.beatricewood.com
Exploring Ojai’s Mystique: Landscape Paintings by Nationally Notable Artists
Oct. 20 – Feb. 4, 2024
Ojai Valley Museum
130 W. Ojai Ave.
Hours: Fri. - Sun., 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. 3rd Fridays 10 a.m. - 7 p.m. ojaivalleymuseum.org
Ojai Day - Free Festival
Oct. 21, 10 a.m. Libbey Park 210 S. Signal St. Ojaiday.com
Ojai Storytelling Festival
Oct. 26-29 Various showtimes and venues. Visit ojaistoryfest.org for tickets and schedule
Ojai Film Festival
Nov. 2-6 In-person, Nov. 7-19
Virtual Ojai Art Center & other venues 805- 640-1947
info@ojaifilmfestival ojaifilmfestival.com
This will be the 24th Annual Ojai Film Festival, featuring independent films from around the world, workshops, filmmaking seminars and more.
BeatoFest
Nov. 12, 11 a.m – 4 p.m. Beatrice Wood Center For the Arts
8585 Ojai-Santa Paula Rd. Art Exhibits, Demonstrations, Live Music
Free Admission
805-646-3381 beatricewood.com
Dionne Warwick Sept. 1 Photo courtesy Raph_PH/Wikimedia CC Don McLean Sept.16 Photo courtesy SolarScott/ Wikimedia CC
It was a last-ditch e ort to save their marriage. Steve (not his real name) came back from active combat with anger issues that were so serious his wife was scared of him. They loved each other, but she had felt fear one too many times and was at the point of filing for divorce. Steve stood in a large paddock with a horse at liberty. He made it very clear he didn’t want to be there, but said he loved his wife and didn’t want to lose her.
He’d been asked to halter the horse, but
when he approached it, the palomino Quarter Horse gelding named Scooter would walk away. Just as his wife felt unsafe around his anger, Scooter also sensed that energy. Horses are prey animals and stay alive by sensing the intentions of animals around them and moving away when they feel a threat.
Steve was participating in an equineassisted therapy session at Reins of H.O.P.E. in Ojai. With him were a licensed family therapist certified in equine-assisted therapy and an equine specialist.
KIMBERLY RIVERS
Photos courtesy Reins of H.O.P.E.
by
The role of the equine specialist is to monitor the horse, sometimes determining when the horse is finished with the session. He tried a few times to walk up to the horse, but Scooter evaded him.
“How do I catch the horse?” he asked.
“Maybe it isn’t about catching, but connecting with the horse,” said Samantha Balcezak, executive director of Reins of H.O.P.E., a nonprofit organization in Ojai.
“OK,” said Steve, as he took a big deep breath, then a few more.
“And the horse immediately came to him. When we chase things, we aren’t connecting with them,” said Balcezak. “Needless to say, he and his wife are still married.” She shared “Steve’s” story with permission and said there are many more like it. She explained that by breathing, Steve connected with his own body; his focus was not on catching Scooter, and Scooter felt it.
“In life we are always chasing a dream, so we forget to connect with ourselves,” said Balcezak. With Steve, “It was about connecting with himself again, remembering he could be vulnerable and ask for support and get it.”
Balcezak said it’s common for veterans to carry a lot of anger, and “the horses will move away from that really strong energy. The veterans will say in response, ‘They don’t like me, they can’t deal with me.’ But as soon as they start sharing, the horses immediately come in.”
Top: Scooter, one of the Reins of H.O.P.E. horses, enjoys being loved on by young visitors.
Above: Scooter and his friend, the miniature horse, Blue.
Left: Lucy, a blue roan mustang mare.
“Horses are a prey animal. We present as a predator.” Feeling that anger, the horses move away. But when we “get vulnerable, that is a di erent energy, they move towards you. It is instant biofeedback. The horses don’t care what clothes you’re wearing. They can’t lie; it’s not safe for them to lie.”
The horse is just seeking safety. “If you show up safe with a horse, the horse is going to want to be with you.”
Balcezak said an initial hurdle in working with veterans is getting them into a session. They rarely seek out this type of help, so a big part of her work is networking. She takes one of the ROH miniature horses to events around the county and talks with people about the organization’s work. Someone might have a former combat veteran client who will share their experience and encourage others to try this approach to healing.
“This is not your traditional talk therapy,” said Balcezak. While the baseline is the same as going into the o ce of a licensed family therapist, it’s a di erent method. “It is experiential. You don’t have to keep retelling your story.”
The sessions can include any number of approaches, depending on what the client is presenting with on a particular day. One approach is obstacle-building.
We all deal di erently with obstacles in life. People su ering from post-traumatic stress disorder, or mental illnesses like anxiety or depression, can find it harder than others to take on these obstacles each day — or they react with anger. One approach used by ROH encourages seeking solutions rather than reacting with anger.
“We ask a client to create an obstacle from various props” that are provided, like ropes, swim noodles, cones, dolls, toy cars, and buckets, Balcezak said. “The obstacle represents something the client is coming
up against. The props act as metaphors. Sometimes the clients don’t even have the language, and the symbols of the props tell their story.”
Once the obstacle is built, the client is asked to bring the horse through the obstacle, which forces the person to stop focusing on the obstacle, and to consider their actions and how to work with the horse.
“In these scenarios the horse can come to represent the client, or a part of the client,” Balcezak said. “But the horse can also represent their mother, husband, a child, their addiction. A client may say, ‘This is me as a child.’”
The client has to consider the obstacle in a di erent way.
“Sometimes it can seem so daunting,” Balcezak said. “What do you do when the horse won’t go through it?” The equine therapist specialist supports the client in seeking a solution. “We talk about all the di erent ways. It can seem basic, but what about just moving the object out of the way? Asking somebody for support? Using the horse to move the object. You don’t have to get over it; you can go around it.”
Balcezak explained that for many, the “experience of setting up something in front of you so you can deal with it in the real world” can help shift something. “There are so few places in the real world to practice that.”
ROH facilities were wiped out by the recent heavy rains in January 2023.Therapists with Reins of H.O.P.E. are certified through Eagala (Equine Assisted Growth and Learning Association), which has worked globally since 1999 to set certification standards for equine assisted therapy. Reins of H.O.P.E. is one of the organization’s chapters. In addition to veterans, Reins of H.O.P.E. works with juvenile o enders and individuals on probation, and anyone who might benefit.
Prior to the COVID pandemic, Reins of H.O.P.E. worked with nearly 800 clients a year, providing multiple sessions for each person. The organization took another hit in the January 2023 storms when flooding wiped out its facility on Creek Road. Today the organization serves about 500 people a year and is working to build back up to full capacity. The herd of six horses is now split between two locations in Meiners Oaks. The full-size horses, Scooter and two Arabian mares, Sister and SiSi, are together with Lucy, a blue roan mustang mare. Two miniature horses, Hope and Blue, are at another location. The minis require special fencing that isn’t available yet at the main location.
“Scooter and Blue are best friends,” Balcezak said, and miss each other. “The flood took out everything but our horses. We almost lost our horses.” But one local volunteer had a “gut” feeling and they got the horses out just in time.
“She went to our property on Jan. 9 and
saw that there was water back there. She said her gut is telling me to move them. I said ‘get them out.’ The water was already starting to flood, but we were able to get them out.” The volunteers were up to their knees in water. “Then the water hit 45 minutes later.”
A community member heard they needed a place to land, and that is where the horses are now.
“We wouldn’t be here without community,” Balcezak said.
The therapists also pay attention to the behaviors the horse is displaying when working with a client. One time, “a horse was doing the same particular behavior three times,” Balcezak said. “It was kind of unique. Three times the horse went over to the water bucket, but did not drink. It either resonates or it doesn’t.” Balcezak had no idea what it might mean to the client, but when she pointed out the behavior to the client, they said they were “in sobriety and trying really hard not to drink right now.”
“It doesn’t matter what we think. It matters what it means to the client. The horses show up that way.”
Two heartbeats
A 14-year old female client was in the probation program with Reins of H.O.P.E.
“She was coming out once a week for eight
weeks. At the third session Scooter kept going to the girl and putting his muzzle on her stomach,” Balcezak said, and she asked the girl, “Is everything OK? Is your tummy bothering you?’ The girl said, ‘No, no.’” The behavior was out of character for Scooter, who is not typically cuddly with people. When the girl came back for a fourth session, they learned she was pregnant. “We had no clue,” Balcezak said. “The girl thought I knew. But the horse knew. It isn’t magic. It’s because there are two heartbeats and he was curious. That is one of hundreds and hundreds of stories of that kind of thing.”
The organization also puts on a weekend retreat for veterans in the fall, this year slated for September.
“It’s another way for them to come together as peers,” said Balcezak. There is equine therapy and journaling, hiking, yoga, painting, and community meals. She said one veteran who attended a past retreat and experienced equine therapy along with other veteran peers told her: “The best thing that came out of the horse work is that I have a friend I can call and knows what I’m going through.”
For more information about Reins of H.O.P.E., visit www.rohvc.org.
Getting a horse through an obstacle can lead to creative problem-solving.
Warm water that envelops the body like an elemental hug is Mimi Camarillo’s elixir of choice in her line of bodywork, Aquãtez, named for a combined play on the words “aqua” and “trapeze.” The aquatic massage therapy is its own kind of intuitive choreography.
The water is so warm, in fact, that after some time, one may forget they’re in water at all. The water is heated to precisely 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit — the average body temperature. This is the key ingredient for total relaxation. Gentle weighted floats are placed around the calves to anchor one’s core above the surrounding blanket of water. The ears remain under, to stay cocooned in the pool. One becomes pliable in a state of homeostasis as pressure points are pressed upon to release tension and stagnant qi (circulation of life force), all while being waltzed through the water.
“When I’m stretching your body in the water, I might be putting my thumb in the center of your foot, and pulling your foot back and pushing your low spine, so that you just have a complete stretch and surrender, having the
story by MIMI WALKER photos by KCRUTS PHOTOGRAPHYwater (be) the resistance, and the water flow over your body,” Mimi says.
“It’s so great to stretch the low back; we hold a lot of energy in our hips; I open up a lot of people’s hips and massage into the shoulders, the wings.
“I’ve seen so much in the water … incredible healings, deep crying, deep releasing, and a lot of it has to do with the breath work” that arises from the buoyancy. Sometimes, Mimi incorporates brass and crystal sound bowls, which release sound frequency vibrations that the client absorbs directly.
Mimi became certified in Water Release Therapy (WRT) in 2016. WRT is an o shoot of Watsu, a combination of water and shiatsu — “a Zen principle and practice of hitting pressure points to open up flow and
qi in the body,” Mimi shares — that was created by Harold Dull in Harbin Hot Springs, California, in the 1980s, based on philosophies of the Swiss aquatic-movement practice called WaterDance.
Diane Feingold of Santa Barbara, Mimi’s teacher, was a student of Dull’s, and she created the WRT model based on core Watsu guidelines, but adding into the mix “the feelings of what your hands are feeling on your client’s body,” Mimi says. The steps are essentially the same as in Watsu, just practiced intuitively and not necessarily in the same order each time.
Mimi practices in three pools at di erent private residences in Meiners Oaks.
“I have a huge love of water innately myself,” she says. “My horoscope is the crab — I’m a Cancerian — and I grew up in Newport Beach, Costa Mesa, Santa Ana. I was going to the beach constantly. I don’t remember ever being taught to swim; it’s something that I just always knew that I could do.” A favorite pastime is diving into the ocean and “going down super deep and holding my breath.”
As the youngest daughter of a firstgeneration Mexican American, Mimi got her name from “going Mimis,” a diminutive form of the Spanish term
for “going to sleep” (dormir). The name fits her line of work, because she guides her clients through a highly rested state in the water — one that, ironically, often leads them to a higher state of personal awakening.
“The before and after is so huge in what I notice. … Everyone’s really concerned about things that, to them, are so important,” Mimi says. “During the session, we get reminded of what really matters. Returning back to stillness and being able to hear our higher self talk to us, and for us to go, ‘Oh, yeah, that’s right.’ On a cellular level, we already know.” All transformative experiences witnessed in the water, she says, are the result of the water itself:
“That’s a moment where they’re downloading or they’re receiving their guides’ information. A lot of my clients will be in such a state of bliss and relaxation that they’re conscious — they know they’re in a pool, they know that I’m there — but then at this other level they’re really connected to the spirit realm, and their eyes start to REM (rapid eye movement).”
As she holds their head and lets the water hold their body, with floats on their legs, “that’s when I just hand them over to their angels,” she says. “I
get real low in the water, so I can see from where I’m holding their head, I can see what I call ‘the butterfly face.’ It’s their real face and it’s pointed up to the heavens … it’s a reflection, and I see their water face. I can’t quite scientifically describe it, but I can tell you that that is a very profound moment.”
She adds: “Everyone looks like angels; they all have this beautiful look on their face. They talk about what they saw, the colors they saw, what they heard, what they’re reminded of. And it’s just an angelic, pure moment.”
Though Mimi always was called to the water, her own awakening and Aquãtez’s inception in Ojai came about through a series of heartbreaking family hardships.
In 1996, Mimi’s older brother, Brian, who worked as a helicopter pilot for the Alameda Sheri ’s Department, died unexpectedly at the age of 26. “Our world fell apart,” Mimi remembers. Brian passed away just a week after a sun-soaked family weekend at the Ojai Valley Inn, where Mimi’s parents celebrated a milestone anniversary. While golfing, Brian suggested to their father that he and their mother look into retiring in Ojai, rather than in Mexico. After Brian’s
passing, Mimi’s parents came back to Ojai to “catch a breath” and found that it was calling them back, echoing Brian’s idea.
“Magical Ojai, how it is, it just really started to open up to them,” Mimi muses. Over the next few years, they built a magnificent home in Oak View from the ground up. “Everything was done in the intention of healing, keeping the family together, knowing that nothing could possibly bring Brian back, but that we could honor his life with hard work and commitment and diligence. It was a huge lesson for my sister (Ti any) and myself,” Mimi emotionally recalls. Brian’s energy permeates the property, and his name is bestowed on Brian’s Tree and Brian’s Path. Mimi relocated to Ojai in 2002 from Greece at nearly nine months pregnant. While in Greece, she had a vision of where she wanted her life to end up.
“You have these snapshots in life where you just know it’s a special moment,” Mimi says. Hers was when the sun melted into the waves of the Grecian beaches, creating the glow on the sand. “I could hold my breath and exhale, and feel my body sink to the bottom of the sand” in 3 or 4 feet of water, she says, the exhalation causing a ring of
light to shoot through the water. “That’s the moment … I’m in when I am still and submerged in warm water. I put myself in that position almost every day, as much as I possibly can.”
When Mimi’s daughter, Jasey May, was born, she faced early health problems, and su ered a stroke before the age of 2. She was thrust into a world of occupational, speech, and physical therapies, but the exercises on land proved to be very frustrating for her little body. “She had to learn how to eat again, talk again, walk again,” Mimi says. “That was a huge part of my life where I put away everything that was conventional — getting married, buying a house, doing everything that society puts on you — none of that matters, the only thing that matters is the health and the well-being of my daughter.” It was warm water therapy through Easterseals that did the trick. “Because she had partial paralysis, she was really sti on land, but in the water … her little right hand, it was clenched so tight, and it never, ever opened on land, and then the second she would be with her therapist in the warm pool, her little arm and hand would just grow in the water. And I remember looking at it … and I was like, ‘that looks like a rose or lotus
blooming.’ …That second that she was put in that warm water, it was ease and grace, lovely spirit and openness.” Mimi then thought to herself, “That’s the quickest and most e cient way, and most gentle way full of grace, to be held in the water and to be healed.”
Mimi was inspired to go back to school at Cal State Northridge and became a recreation therapist on a hospital rehab floor, working with those who had strokes and/or su ered from traumatic brain injuries, but noted the “glaring dichotomy” of living in Ojai, which was “so open, with such good spirit and good energy,” then feeling herself “shrinking” and “wilting” in her scrubs on the ride to work in the mornings. “I love the work; I didn’t like the setting.” On a hot night, she took her laptop outside and Googled “water healing therapy” and other keywords, and “up came Watsu,” which was a revelation to her. She then connected with Feingold, working as a mentee and eventually becoming her assistant.
Today, Jasey, now 21, is “awesome, she’s great, she’s independent,” Mimi beams. Jasey has inherited her mother’s devotion to the water; she’s even given her mother sessions. “You can feel her energy. …It’s so wonderful to be held by someone that you held
in your own stomach, to feel her nurture you and love you.”
Just as Mimi hands others to their angels in the water, she feels she’s been handed the water by her angels. She prays to her “two big guides” — her brother, Brian, and her paternal grandmother, Ma Felisa — at the beginning of each session to assist her in “being completely present and completely there for the client that I have in front of me.”
Mimi embraces everyone who comes to her to open their energy field.
“The beautiful thing is that whatever they’re releasing, I don’t take in my own body,” she a rms. “The water protects me. Once I figured that out, I was like, ‘Oh, this is awesome. There’s no holding us back.’ What has changed my life immensely is what I call ‘return to stillness.’ Everything is about your body, your breath, your moment. I’m not thinking of anything else. It’s a complete vacation for me because I am so in the present moment. Because of the practice and giving sessions, I now know how important it is to be in the present moment for everything.”
Aquãtez Ojai: slick.id/watsu
The small, nondescript concrete building in Libbey Park below the bike path is often mistaken for an always-closed restroom. Built in 1929 by Ventura County, it’s actually a former Ojai jail, and open only once a year on Ojai Day. A plaque outside the structure marks it as Ojai’s “Historic Landmark Number 12,” and inside, the formerly incarcerated etched their names as gra ti into the cell walls.
The story of the man who held its keys from 1933 to 1943 will be etched into Ojai history as well.
Ojai Constable Harry Hunt Sr. earned a Purple Heart for service to his country during World War I, and later lost his arm during a work accident in the Ventura oil fields, and ultimately lost his life in service to Ojai as the town’s top lawman. Hunt, after being shot by an escapee from a mental hospital, returned fire and killed the man, then died himself about six weeks later.
His wife, Lena, lost her husband, and his three children, Harry Jr., Jim, and Barbara, all younger than 10, lost their dad.
He is one of two law enforcement o cers serving in Ojai to lose their life in the line of duty.
Now, 80 years after Hunt’s death, the former constable’s oldest and only living child, Ojai resident Harry Hunt Jr., and granddaughter, Kimberly Hunt of San Diego, are grateful that the Ojai
Historic Preservation Commission and City Council honor him with a plaque to be placed on or near the Libbey Park jail.
Harry Jr., who later became a law enforcement o cer himself as a member of the California Highway Patrol, is filled with pride for stories about his dad.
“He was a firm dad, and a hardworking man, but also just a good buddy to me,” Harry Jr. says. “And he gave his life for the citizens of this valley.”
Kimberly Hunt, a news anchor with ABC 10 News in San Diego, says her grandfather was a “compassionate law enforcement o cer,” and “a man dedicated to his family and the community — a man of integrity and character, trying to teach his children to be the same.”
Recognition of her grandfather in some
way by the city, she says, would mean “his story isn’t lost in time.” War hero to constable
Harry Hunt Sr. was born in Colorado, went to military school, then served in the Army during the Mexican Border War and World War I. In 1918, at the Second Battle of the Marne in France, he was wounded by gas shelling and received the Purple Heart, as well as the Bronze Star, for bravery.
After the war, Harry Sr. ended up in Ventura working for the Shell Oil Co. as part of its transportation department. When he was moving a load of pipes, “somehow the pipe got away,” Harry Jr. says. “While trying to stop it all, he lost his right arm.”
He made a remarkable comeback from the accident, even though he’d previously been right-handed. “He was quite capable with his left arm doing anything,” Harry Jr. says. In
Ojai’s one-armed constable lost his life in service to his communityPhotos courtesy Hunt family
Harry Hunt Sr. lost his right arm while working as a driver for Shell Oil Co. in the oil fields of Ventura.
particular, he was skilled with a weapon and became known for his marksmanship. “I never felt he was handicapped,” Harry Jr. says. “Because he didn’t think he was.”
Harry Sr.’s military service and shooting skills, and six-year record as deputy sheri , led him to be appointed, and eventually elected, constable of the Ojai Valley, long before Ojai had its own police department or was under the jurisdiction of the Ventura County Sheri ’s Department.
Harry Jr. says he rode around town with his dad on law enforcement calls, many involving pilfered cattle. He and his brother also spent short stints in the (vacant) jail to “keep them out of trouble” while their dad was on patrol.
The family went on vacations nearby, staying in a cabin in Wheeler Gorge so the constable would still be able to work. “As the only law enforcement o cer in the area,” Harry Jr. says, “he felt he was needed all the time.”
Law enforcement in the Ojai Valley was very di erent in the 1930s. The area had a constable elected by the people of the Ojai Valley to keep the peace, and a City Council-appointed marshal oversaw more mundane but essential matters like business licenses, sewers, and trash disposal.
“My father would occasionally get deputies if he needed them, but he was basically a one-man law operation,” Harry Jr. says. “He sometimes had radio communication with the county, but it was very sporadic, so he was much more independent.”
Harry Sr. drove a stick-shift police car, operating the vehicle with a knob on the steering wheel using his remaining arm.
The jail, Harry Jr. says, was really
“more of a holding tank,” often a place to just keep perpetrators for the night. If someone had been drunk or committed any other minor o ense, his dad would “go down in the morning and simply get them out, and sometimes take them out to breakfast.”
A final brave act Cattle theft, overimbibing, and tra c violations, along with “domestic situations,” were common o enses, Harry Jr. says, “but sometimes my dad got involved in a much larger deal where people were more dangerous.” That was the case in 1943, when a man who had escaped from a mental hospital in Northern California and lived in the mountains for many years somehow ended up in Ojai with a pistol.
At first, he frightened townspeople, but didn’t commit any crimes, Harry Jr. says, then disappeared into the hills. “Later on, my father received a call that he had attacked multiple
women in Upper Ojai, and ranchers up there were very concerned about it.”
In March 1943 the worried ranchers became part of a posse (legal at the time) that Constable Hunt brought together to search for the man.
On March 11 they finally located the escapee near Steckel Park in Santa Paula, but he fled down into the river bottom. When Harry Sr. went after him, sliding down a 13-foot embankment, the man fired at him with a .22-caliber pistol, hitting the constable in the groin area. Harry Sr. drew his revolver in return, then shot and killed the man. The constable was later commended for his actions by a coroner’s jury.
Harry Sr. ended up at Foster Memorial Hospital in Ventura, but was released early. It’s not clear why, but Harry Jr. says he thinks his dad felt responsible for going back to work and asked to go home before the medical sta thought he was ready.
Around a month later, while at home, he got a blood clot from the gun wound that led to a stroke, then died at the hospital on April 22, 1943.
Harry Jr., 9; his brother Jim, 7; and sister Barbara, 5, were not with their dad when he passed away.
“The last time I saw him was at home before he was taken away,” Harry Jr. says. “He was just asking us to take care of Mom. I think maybe he knew he was going to die.”
Harry Sr. was buried at Ivy Lawn Memorial Park in Ventura.
Harry Jr. took his dad’s words to heart after his death and mostly thought about “responsibilities and figuring out how we were going to earn a living.”
His mother worked at an Ojai market, and Harry Jr. and his siblings delivered newspapers for the Ventura County
Star-Free Press while attending school. They also helped out at an Ojai ranch where their uncle was a foreman.
“In those days there weren’t any agencies that stepped in and helped when you lost the provider,” Harry Jr. says.
Harry Jr. graduated early from high school, enlisted in the Marine Corps during the Korean War, then got a job with the California Highway Patrol when he returned home, and earned a master’s degree in criminal justice. “I just knew I had a propensity for that career field,” says Harry Sr., who retired in 1988 after 30 years with the CHP and has lived in Ojai since then with his wife, Vesta.
Throughout his life he’s gathered as much information as he can about his father’s life and history. Harry Hunt Sr.’s name was added to the National Law Enforcement O cers Memorial in Washington, D.C., which honors o cers who have died in the line of duty. His name is also on the Peace O cers Memorial at the Ventura County Government Center in Ventura.
But he has yet to be honored in his hometown of Ojai. Ojai historian and Historic Preservation Committee member Craig Walker, speaking at a meeting in April 2023 to discuss the possibility of honoring the former constable, said: “I definitely feel that Harry Hunt …deserves all the recognition that we can give him. … In our small valley, Harry Hunt really stood out as a giant. It’s amazing what he accomplished with his one arm.”
Harry Jr. tears up when asked what he’d say to his father if he had the chance.
“I’d just tell him how much we missed him. It’s a loss you never get over. That’s all.”
Soon the story of his loss will be one that no one — or at least anyone in Ojai who wanders past a small concrete building in Libbey Park — will ever forget.
Ringed by mountains laced with many miles of trails, the Ojai Valley area has much to o er two-wheeled adventurers. Fattire fans can ride zigzagging singletracks to ridgetops with sweeping vistas, wide fire roads that traverse long, deep canyons, and a few flat, easy trails for more contemplative riding. There’s a trail for every age and ability.
Preparation is key to happy riding. Always wear a helmet, bring plenty of water and snacks, carry a first-aid kit, know where you’re going, and tell someone where you’ve gone and when to expect you back. Don’t rely on a lot of shade on most of these rides, so apply plenty of sunscreen.
This graded 9-mile dirt road begins just o Highway 33 between Oak View and Casitas Springs. The road climbs moderately through oak woodlands and grassy hillsides, and provides outstanding views spanning the Ojai Valley and out to the ocean.
with two vehicles, and ride it from top to bottom, for a roughly 13-mile downhill run. Hazards to watch for are messy oil seeps along the lower portion of the road, cattle guards in a few places, and large cows that wander the road and can take fast-moving downhillers by surprise. In fall and winter, the road is open for recreation from 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m.
For a challenging ride with lots of elevation gain, point your front wheel up these mostly single-track trails. Both trails climb to Nordho Ridge at roughly 5,000 feet elevation.
networks of short trails, with varying degrees of di culty. The western portion of easy Shelf Road starts in the Valley View Preserve and continues 2 miles to Gridley Road.
Running north of Shelf for about 1 mile are the Fox Canyon Trail and Luci’s Trail. Both are steep and narrow, and connect to the historic Foothill Trail. As the preserve’s name suggests, the views from these trails can’t be beat.
Across town and straddling the Ventura River, the 1,600-acre Ventura River Preserve o ers about a dozen wellmaintained trails and three trailheads. Most rides require crossing the river, usually an easy task, except after heavy rains.
For a pleasant ride beneath a canopy of oaks, take the Wills Canyon Trail to El Nido Meadow. For a much more challenging ride, take the Rice Canyon Trail to the Kennedy Ridge Trail, which climbs 3 miles to the old El Camino Cielo Trail.
Mileages
After approximately 2,000 feet of elevation gain, you arrive at a paved section of road beside a large, gated ranch. This is a good place to turn around and head for home, though the road continues for another 4 miles to the upper trailhead. Or do Sulphur Mountain as a shuttle trip,
Starting at the north end of Gridley Road, the first mile of the 6-mile Gridley Trail is rocky with some hike-a-biking required. The middle 3 miles take you from avocado groves to spectacular canyon vistas, on a very ridable grade. At about Mile 4, the trail gets steeper and narrower, before leveling o at the top.
A few miles west of Gridley Canyon, the 5-mile-long Pratt Trail begins from a signed parking area near the top of Signal Street. The trail is rocky but ridable for the first mile, on an easement through private property. Past the last house, the trail, now a road, climbs steeply at times and becomes singletrack again. This section of trail has been a bit sketchy in the past, but it’s received plenty of TLC recently from volunteers, many of them mountain bikers. Both trails are a thrilling downhill ride, but watch those drop-o s!
Two preserves administered by the Ojai Valley Land Conservancy o er separate
You’re bound to encounter horses on most of the Ventura River Preserve trails, so be tolerant and give equestrians the right-of-way. Restricted hours of 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. go into e ect starting Nov. 1 on the Ventura River Preserve.
There’s nothing unusually di cult about this 8-mile, 3,000-foot elevation gain climb up a wide, graded fire road. Be aware that access to the trailhead has recently changed, due to a locked gate just
south of the former parking area. Very limited parking is available along the gravel road, or you’ll need to park along Highway 150 near the school, and ride an extra mile up the paved residential road.
are marked by signposts along the road.Two creek crossings are usually easy a airs, before the road gets noticeably steeper and makes a sharp left-hand turn out of the oak-shaded canyon. As you pedal out of the canyon, you get impressive views of the Topatopa Blu s, looming hundreds of feet above you. Vistas to the south as you leave the canyon are equally breathtaking, including Upper Ojai, Sulphur Mountain and all the way out to the Santa Barbara Channel.
If you tire of the fire road, there’s a challenging single-track option roughly two miles up, the White Ledge-Red Reef Trail. One mile up this narrow, brushy trail is shady White Ledge Camp, situated beside a stream and beneath fragrant bay laurel trees.
For a truly epic ride, ascend Sisar Canyon Road to Nordho Ridge, head west and descend the Gridley or Pratt trails.
Any way you go, the downhill run is a blast.
Story and photos by PERRY VAN HOUTEN
Ride those wild Ojai trails
Perhaps some readers can recall a specific time or event that had a decisive e ect on the rest of their lives. In my case it is easy. It was December of 1956, and I had come down to New York City from Cornell, where I was in my second year of law school. The purpose of the trip was to call on several law firms, seeking to be hired as a summer associate. I had no appointments, but in those days you were supposed to appear unannounced, present a resume and, if the resume was su ciently impressive, proceed to an interview.
Well, on a blustery day that month, I ran into a classmate at the corner of Broad and Wall streets. We hurriedly exchanged notes, and my friend mentioned one particular firm. That chance meeting and his suggestion would shape the rest of my life, both personally and professionally. The firm he mentioned was Mudge, Stern, Baldwin & Todd, which would later become Nixon, Mudge, Rose, Guthrie, Alexander & Mitchell and, eventually, Mudge Rose.
On a personal note, it was an associate from the Mudge firm who, a few years later, arranged the blind date with a charming young woman who became my wife, and is still putting up with me.
Professionally, the Mudge firm was my home for most of my career and also led me to some interesting experiences serving in the government. As an associate, I worked closely with the head of the litigation department, Len Garment. And when Richard Nixon joined the firm, it was Garment who persuaded Nixon to argue in the Supreme Court a case against Life magazine, Time Inc. v. Hill (1967), that Garment had won in the New York courts.
One day when we were working on the case, Nixon remarked that Justice Abe Fortas would likely vote against him because Fortas was a partisan Democrat. As it happened, we lost the case in the Supreme Court, but Fortas voted for us, and his dissent was highly critical of Life magazine. Years later, I met Fortas after he had been forced to resign from the court, and mentioned the case. Fortas responded that he would always remember the case and that Life had never forgotten it, either. He was alluding to the fact that Life had broken the story of Fortas’
association with a financier, Louis Wolfson, that led to Fortas’ resignation. (For a present-day comparison, that association was considerably more modest than the recently revealed relationship between Justice Clarence Thomas and Harlan Crow.)
After Nixon prevailed against the incumbent vice president, Democrat Hubert Humphrey, in the 1968 presidential election, I left the Mudge firm and joined the practice of a well-known lawyer in Washington, D.C. But in 1973, I was reunited with Garment, in the early days of the Watergate investigations, when he became counsel to the president.
One of my earliest responsibilities came on the night in 1973 when Nixon spoke to the nation to announce the firing of White House counsel John Dean (later convicted of obstruction of justice), and the resignations of Attorney General Richard Kleindienst and of Nixon’s aides Bob Haldeman and John Ehrlichman. Soon after Garment had replaced Dean as White House counsel, he and I noticed press photos of Haldeman and Ehrlichman with bulging briefcases and decided we needed to do something to secure critical documents. Garment arranged for the FBI to assume that responsibility, and I had the task of seeing that they were deployed in the various locations where files were kept. As it happened, the FBI arrived during Nixon’s speech but were initially denied entry — because they carried guns. In a somewhat surreal scene, this issue was debated as Nixon was speaking from a nearby television set. Eventually, we worked out a compromise that the FBI would be allowed in with their guns, but only after the president had finished the speech and retired to the residence. But the next morning, when Nixon discovered a burly fellow guarding the files a few steps down from the Oval O ce, he was — to put it mildly — not pleased.
On another memorable occasion, Garment and I joined Attorney General Elliot
Richardson and acting FBI Director William Ruckelshaus in a meeting with Secretary of State William Rogers. The purpose of the meeting was to suggest to Rogers that, as Nixon’s colleague from the Eisenhower Administration (when Rogers had been attorney general), he might encourage Nixon to be more forthcoming. Rogers quickly made it clear that he had no interest in taking on that assignment, and the conversation drifted into a discussion of what might be covered by executive privilege. In hindsight, of course, the näiveté of our mission seems rather stunning.
The summer of 1973 was dominated by hearings before the Senate Watergate Committee chaired by Sen. Sam Ervin of North Carolina. But by the end of the summer, Special Prosecutor Archibald Cox had taken a more prominent role. On July 27, 1973, my picture appeared on the front page of The New York Times alongside Cox and Judge John Sirica. While they looked jut-jawed and determined, I was captured leaving the courthouse in an ill-fitting suit looking like someone who had just been indicted on several counts of something.
In November, I participated in hearings before Sirica concerning White House tapes that appeared to be missing and a notorious 18.5-minute gap on one of them (a mystery that was never resolved). On Nov. 29, 1973, Garment and I were depicted on CBS News in a courtroom sketch made during those hearings. Broadcaster Fred Graham introduced the sketch by observing that the president’s lawyers were sitting glumly by. Well, we had a fair amount to be glum about.
In fact, by the end of November, I concluded that I was no longer comfortable serving in that capacity, and decided to leave the White House. I wished, however, to remain in the government, and I spoke with Jim Lynn, secretary of the Department of Housing and Urban Development. The country was then in the midst of an energy crisis, and I became Lynn’s assistant for energy a airs. As such, I quickly found myself at the annual
convention of homebuilders and serving on a panel with the energy czar, William Simon, and the president of Exxon USA. I could not tell you what any of us said, but my general recollection is that I made as much sense as they did. I continued to work on energy matters for several months until, later in 1974, I became deputy general counsel of HUD.
At the end of the Ford administration in 1977, I returned to the Mudge firm, and was involved in corporate litigation until my retirement. During that time, I had the opportunity to handle numerous complex and challenging cases, but none would be quite as challenging as Watergate. Watergate was more than the break-in at the headquarters of the Democratic National Committee and the attempt to cover it up. The ensuing investigations revealed a variety of criminal o enses for which a number of individuals were successfully prosecuted. Altogether, Watergate represented a serious stain on our nation’s history. Nevertheless, I believe that, even at its worst, Watergate posed a far less serious threat to American democracy than the forces behind the events of Jan. 6, 2021 — forces we are still attempting to corral. As we do so, we are forced to keep in mind the alleged admonition of Benjamin Franklin that we have “a republic,” but only “if you can keep it.”
Follow Douglas Parker’s blog at rinocracy.com This article was adapted from a talk Doug Parker gave to the Ojai Rotary May 8, 2023.
Retired attorney and Ojai resident Douglas M. Parker reflects on and shares his perspective and personal account from inside the eye of the storm: Watergate 50 years on.
This 2022 build was designed for indoor-outdoor living with a blend of modern and contemporary architectural styles and is set among heritage oaks on a private, gated, approximately .79-acre lot in the popular Foothill Road area. Just a short drive from the boutiques and cafes of downtown Ojai and only steps from Pratt Trail, this 3-bedroom, 3.5-bathroom, 2,890-square-foot home features impeccable design and upscale nishes with incredible attention to detail. Features include an integrated-solar Tesla roof, limestone and sandstone countertops, rift-sawn cabinetry, 12- and 18-foot ceilings, Wolfe and Sub-Zero appliances, re clay sink, Newport xtures, whole-house water ltration, Acu-Craft gas replace, glass garage door, and white oak, marble, and limestone oors. Each bedroom features an en suite bathroom, blackout shades, and a sliding door leading to the outdoor living areas. This is one that you really must see to appreciate the abundant features that make it an ideal primary or second home where you can entertain guests and enjoy the coveted Ojai lifestyle.
Co-listed with Dave & Kellye Lynn of Ojai Property Group
NORA DAVIS
Ojai Realtor®
Cal DRE 01046067
Nora@OjaiValleyEstates.com
805.207.6177
