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Home is where the health is

Before Amanda Schmitt knocks on an apartment door at Hope House in Charlottesville, she rearranges the cloth bags draped around her shoulder to find a free hand. A girl named Alita (whose last name is being withheld to protect her identity) answers the door; the teenager isn’t the daughter of the house, however. She’s the mother.

From behind Alita’s legs, 1-year-old Tyquese sizes up the visitors. To him, Schmitt is a familiar face whose appearance means playtime. For Alita, Schmitt may be the only adult conversation she has all day.

Schmitt is one of four family support workers for Children, Youth and Family Services. The program is just one of many Virginia social services that may disappear because of mangled finances in Richmond.

On a recent morning, Alita’s was the first of three homes Schmitt visited that day, helping new parents––especially single mothers––cope with the tribulations of child-rearing. To Tyquese’s delight, one of Schmitt’s bags contains a plastic bucket full of toys. Displaying primal human desires to both create and destroy, one of Tyquese’s favorite games becomes stacking multi-colored plastic donuts in a tower, then toppling them with a swoop of his tiny hand.

Schmitt unloads her other bag, full of binders and notebooks, and Alita joins her on the couch to compare Tyquese’s emotional and physical development to scientific standards. The Healthy Families program in which Alita participates is designed to prevent child abuse and neglect. Clients are referred to CYFS by the Health Department, clinics, other agencies or family members. Sometimes the clients seek help themselves. In Alita’s case, a caseworker knew her mother and referred Alita to the program when she became pregnant.

Schmitt says the goal is to help families before there are signs of violence. Indeed, there’s no evidence of dysfunction in Alita’s apartment––the place is as neat as can be expected for the domain of a 1-year-old, and the fearlessly curious and affectionate Tyquese seems equally at ease in the lap of his mother or an unfamiliar reporter.

Nevertheless, as a single teenage mother with an unplanned baby, Alita’s situation is, in social services jargon, "at risk." She had just started her senior year at Charlottesville High School when Tyquese was born.

"All my friends have kids," Alita says.

Asked about her son’s father, Alita gives an it’s-a-long-story look, making it obvious the man hasn’t changed many diapers. She says the family support worker who began visiting her when she became pregnant was vital.

"When they started helping me, they were the only people I saw," says Alita.

Tyquese suffered a stroke at birth, which hampered his physical and mental development. His right arm and leg, for example, do not function as well as those on his left side. Schmitt’s job is simply to check in with Alita once a week, to help her find answers to the myriad questions and anxieties that come with new motherhood, and to make sure Alita remembers all Tyquese’s appointments with doctors and therapists.

There are many good signs, says Schmitt. She says initially Alita reacted the way most teenage mothers do––by clinging to her adolescence.

"At first I thought it would be all fun," says Alita. "We have fun days, but it’s not really that fun."

Since then, Schmitt says Alita has embraced the realities of motherhood. She dutifully puts Tyquese through the exercise regimen a therapist prescribed to develop his motor skills. Tyquese shows a healthy attachment to his mother, says Schmitt, and she is encouraged to hear that the boy is imitating her––he holds a book upside down, pretending to read and helps clean the house, although Alita says occasionally she has to rescue her keys from the trash can.

Like many other Virginia social services, the Healthy Families program that helps Alita and about 60 other local families is now threatened by a State budget deficit and a tax-shy General Assembly.

Just before Republican Governor Jim Gilmore left office last year, he cut the State Healthy Families program entirely, says Jacqueline Bryant, director of parent education and support for CYFS. Last spring, Bryant and Schmitt joined other Healthy Families workers and clients from across Virginia to advocate for the program, flooding legislators with calls and letters and directly lobbying members of the General Assembly’s Finance Committee.

As a result, last year’s General Assembly passed a bill restoring funding for the Healthy Families program, but with an important change. Where it used to come from the State’s General Fund, the money is now comprised of unspent dollars from a Federal program, Temporary Assistance to Needy Families.

The change means, first of all, that Healthy Families, with a 2001 budget of about $114,000, will lose some $25,000 in Federal matching money. Also, Bryant says, by 2004 the State’s excess TANF dollars will run out. She says Healthy Families, like many other social services, is scrambling to find money from public or private sources. Healthy Families has a proven record of success, says Bryant, but the competition for dollars will be fierce.

"The program is definitely in jeopardy," says Bryant. "Finding any money will be hard given the State budget and the economic climate."–– John Borgmeyer

 

Liquid gold

City, County and UVA negotiate the cost of water

As it has for months, water topped the agenda during City Council’s regular meeting on Monday, November 4. Rain has eased fears of impending doomsday, but public officials still face days of reckoning ahead when it comes to protecting the region’s water supply.

On Monday, Council approved an ordinance to raise water rates to $55.47 per 1,000 cubic feet (or 4,500 gallons), set to take effect on November 18. The rate had been $37.16, a special drought rate levied to encourage conservation.

In the local water market, the Rivanna Water and Sewer Authority acts as wholesalers to Charlottesville and Albemarle, which then sells the water to residents and businesses. The water system is designed to be self-sufficient, with customers paying for the costs of service. As conservation measures kicked in during late summer and early fall, water consumption has dropped by about 40 percent since August. That means that with less water being sold, officials must charge more to keep up the revenue stream.

"It’s the ultimate Catch-22," said City Manager Gary O’Connell. "The more water we conserve, the more it costs."

The new rates will also help pay for infrastructure improvements to the water supply. The Rivanna Water and Sewer Authority has estimated that meeting water demand over the next 30 years will cost more than $13 million in improvements. On November 4, Council heard about ongoing negotiations between Judith Mueller, director of the City’s public works department, and Bill Brent, head of the Albemarle County Service Authority. The two are trying to hash out a formula for the jurisdictions to share responsibility for improvements to the water system.

On Monday, Councilor Kevin Lynch hinted that Albemarle County should bear most of the burden, since County growth has caused, and will continue to cause, rising demand. "It seems unfair if existing clients will have to pay for future growth," Lynch said.

The formula will not be simple, however. The RWSA is planning to dredge out some of the 40 years’ worth of sediment filling the South Fork Rivanna reservoir, so water officials say it’s apt to ask current customers to pay for that.

Another variable is UVA. Councilor Rob Schilling pointed out that although the City has not grown, UVA certainly has. Because UVA plans more capital improvements and enrollment hikes, Schilling said, UVA should pay for some of the water costs.

UVA is a City water customer. The University maintains its own water and sewer infrastructure on Central Grounds, so in the 1930s UVA negotiated a deal with the City for cheap water. That contract is supposed to last 100 years. Mueller says the City "comes out about even" in its deal with UVA. The research parks at Fontaine and North Fork are owned by UVA’s Real Estate Foundation, not the school itself, and therefore pay the normal water and sewer rates.

Mueller says UVA "understands" that paying more for water is a part of its growth. She says she will negotiate UVA’s share of the cost after she reaches a deal with Brent. The question of who pays what "is a big issue here," O’Connell said Monday.–– John Borgmeyer

 

Home on the price range

Supes tackle affordable-housing shortfalls

In the midst of a depressing third-quarter report detailing a $2.8 million budget deficit in Albemarle County, which was presented to the Board of County Supervisors by Assistant County Executive Roxanne W. White on Wednesday, November 6, there was talk of more than just financial deficits. Affordable housing ranks up there with the best of the County’s shortfalls.

Voting unanimously to approve the Amendment to the Comprehensive Plan regarding the Policy on Affordable Housing, the Board handed the Planning Commission and Planning Department some guidelines for future rezoning and special-use permit applications.

"The goal of this request," says Ron White, Albemarle County’s Chief of Housing, "is to assure we are offering a variety of housing types so people can afford to live in this community."

These housing types will take into account the County demographics and neighborhood models, which include everything from nice apartments to townhouses to single family free-standing homes. The amendment will also cap the costs of these housing types at $170,000.

Although much attention is given to the housing demands of the City of Charlottesville, those who need assistance and wish to live in the County can be overlooked, too. But with this amendment, the County can now work with both the development and financing communities to increase the supply of affordable housing—especially for those earning below 80 percent of the area’s medium income of $50,000.

Proposing to mix incentives for the private developer with non-profit driven financing structures (such as those offered by the Piedmont Housing Alliance), the County should be able to offer extremely competitive mortgage rates to low-income families.

"With just the developer and the County in the picture," says Supervisor David Bowerman, "I didn’t know how you were going to pull this off. But non-profits are really a great answer."

For most area residents, housing costs exceed 30 percent of gross household income. And for a family of four earning $50,000 annually or less, that 30 percent is simply too much. "This is the point in which low-income families turn into renters instead of buyers," says White.

Yet, the answer to the question of how to ensure affordable housing remains affordable is unclear. "How about some assistance from employers to employees?" suggests Chairman Sally Thomas. The idea would be to encourage County employers to set aside money to assist employees with down-payments for homes.

And it seems that the County might be a good place to start. For not only does no employer-assistance plan exist in Central Virginia, there is no such program in place in Albemarle—the County’s second largest employer.— Kathryn E. Goodson

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On thick ice

Full-body Spandex suits, skates with weapon-like blades, Bonnie Blair and maybe Dan Jansen – this is what "speedskating" means to most of us. To some 15 members of the Blue Ridge Speedskating Club who show up at the Charlottesville Ice Park every Sunday morning, however, it means much more.

It was not an easy task for BRSC founder and president Suzanne Coffey to launch the club last April, yet she and other members have put together a group that serves people who want to master things like basic body position or "stroke recovery," as well as those more experienced skaters who want to perfect their "forward power slide" technique.

The idea came to Chicago native Coffey during the Salt Lake City winter games. As the craze of short-track speedskating, headlined by American speedskater Apollo Ohno, took glancing hold nationally, Coffey decided Charlottesville could support it, too.

"We’ve got some kids who want to go to the Olympics, and I have come to view this as sort of a ministry," says Coffey, a chiropractor at Community Chiropractic Health Care. "I am here to help and mentor these kids."

A national speedskating organization got her lined up with David Kennedy, the president of a regional speedskating association. Kennedy and American Olympic speedskater Nathaniel Mills taught a coaching clinic for Coffey and new BRSC members in June.

Now entering their seventh month as a club, 15 or more BRSC members meet on the ice every Sunday. While preparing for their first competition (October 26 at the Richmond Ice Zone), the group was " just looking to get [its] feet wet…or cold," says Coffey.

Bill Randolph is a self-employed consulting engineer by week and and a BRSC skater by weekend, but he’s had an addicting taste of what professional training in these parts can mean in the sport. "Young speedskaters have so much access to world-class athletes," he says. "It’s as if youngsters went to a football clinic taught by NFL all-stars. You don’t get that kind of access everyday."

Merely a decade ago, of course, Charlottesville barely had access to ice everyday. The ice park, which was born of the tempestuous partnership between developers Colin Rolph and Lee Danielson, opened in May 1996. Speedskating – and some of its Northern cousins like hockey and figure skating – are all in their infancy here. Yet speedskating may have been launched with the highest early profile.

Coffey has skaters in the place now ranging in age between 12 and 50, and even that doesn’t satisfy her ambition to have broadcast networks one day run a story about the small Olympic skating village of Charlottesville.

Next on her list: at least 30 crash pads for the walls of the Ice Park. (Are you listening, Mr. Rolph?)

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News

Ballot Stuffing

In case it escaped your notice, there’s an election scheduled for November 5. We don’t blame you if you’ve been out of touch on this subject. Even dedicated pols might find themselves bored by a campaign season that features empty platforms, absent candidates and geeky legislative reforms.

For instance, who is there to care about in the current U.S. Senate race? Virginia Democrats couldn’t even field a challenger for the 24-year incumbent, Republican John Warner. His independent challengers, lacking the financial backing of a major party, have had a tough time competing with the Senator, a longtime GOP darling.

Incumbency has also given 5th District Congressman Virgil Goode (R-Rocky Mount) extra traction against his Democratic challenger, Charlottesville City Councilor Meredith Richards. Goode enjoys closer relationships with deep-pocketed political action committees [see EXTRA page 9], and his "Aw, shucks" demeanor plays well in the predominately rural 5th District. So far, Richards’ campaign strategy has been to use Goode’s conservatism against him, criticizing his stance on abortion rights and environmental issues.

It could be a good strategy in liberal enclaves like Charlottesville. "I’ll be voting against Virgil Goode," says 41-year-old Pete Manno, flipping through a newspaper at the Blue Moon Diner a couple of weeks before the election. "I’m definitely anti-Goode."

Manno says he will also vote in favor of the two bond amendments on the ballot, which would permit the General Assembly to borrow money for parks and for capital projects on college and university campuses. UVA officials have gone to a lot of trouble to promote the bond referendum, saying that although there’s no real opposition to it, they fear the bond won’t pass simply because voters are unaware of it.

Manno says he’s "a little irritated" by what he calls UVA’s panhandling. "They own half the town, and they’re crying for money?" he says. But the school’s fears may be well-founded. While many of the diner’s Monday-night patrons said they will vote, they also professed unfamiliarity with the candidates or issues on the November 5 ballot.

One patron named Jessi says she’ll vote next Tuesday for "whoever’s strongest on the environment."

"But I don’t know the candidates," the 18-year old says. "Who are they? Tell us about them."

You asked for it. Here is the C-VILLE voter’s guide – all the information you need about what’s at stake on November 5. While we can help you make an informed choice, only you can get your booty off the couch. Stand up, Charlottesville, and cast your ballot. The guide begins on page 12 of this weeks’ C-Ville Weekly.

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Arts

Eat to the beats

About 12 years ago, I had a twinkling of an inkling of what "Beatnik glory" might mean, of what it might mean to be singingly silly. I belonged to a jazz-and-poetry group started by Gregory Foster – formerly a cowboy, carnival worker, journalist, roadie for a famous jazzman, Miles Davis’ cab driver, Thelonius Monk’s chess partner, a high-school dropout, the best-read human being I have ever met, and just old enough to have been, authentically, a Beat poet and a bona fide member of the Beat generation. It was Foster who, having known the real thing in San Francisco and New York City, brought the jazz/poetry scene to Charlottesville. His way of reciting was the true Beat way.

Goaded by Foster, a group of us chanted and half-danced our poetry and jazz in night spots, prisons, coffee houses, in the street and the occasional ante-bellum mansion, culminating our "career" at the University’s Old Cabell Hall. Leroi Moore (eventually of Dave Mathews Band) and John D’earth were part of our group that glorious evening for which each of us received $17 in pure profit. Until recently, I preserved a huge cardboard prop we wielded onstage, a gigantic bottle of "poetry pills" that we pretended to pop as an anti-drug, pro-poetry message. ("Pop poetry, not pills!")

There were other healthy highs, sometimes touched with a bit of fear. Performing at a local prison once, I noticed that there was one among the inmates who was rigidly unsmiling, unlike the other men, who had welcoming smiles on their faces. He glared throughout our gig. I was terrified when he marched straight up toward me. Instead of attacking, he shook my hand and said earnestly, "If I could have learned to express myself like you people, I would not be here now!"

The high point of our benevolent bad taste was probably the somewhat problematic "marriage" ceremony we performed at the Eastern Standard nightclub Downtown. Well, we married two American myths, convinced that aspects of American culture desperately needed togetherness. I confess it: we married Elvis Presley to Emily Dickinson! We paraded their icons around, recited their words to music, extemporized a wedding ritual – and, now they are married in Heaven. If they have since got divorced or separated, I have not heard about it.

Of course, all this was but the shadow of Beatnik glory in its prime, but we did have the beatific guidance of our own Whitman, Foster. We pretty much avoided the flipside of Beatnik glory – Beatnik sordidness. We got sore occasionally, but not too sordid. We did belong for a brief while to "the family of friends" the Beats advocated. And perhaps we felt a little of Allen Ginsberg’s "supernatural extra brilliant intelligent kindness of the soul."

And then, in 1998, two Beat American myths entered unto Charlottesville to be part of our vertiginous Virginia Film Festival, which that year explored the concept of "Cool." Ed Sanders, poet and leader of the hilarious Beat rock group The Fugs and priestly Diane di Prima were both the essence of cool and very, very hot. Once Queen of Poverty in Greenwich Village, famously loyal to love and poetry, di Prima now looked regal. She read her poetry magnificently, accompanied on the piano by the great Beat composer David Amram. We shared some amiably alchemic chats under a mural of a supernatural fish at a local Japanese restaurant. She gave me a Tibetan Buddhist blessing and I was presumptuous enough to give her the blessing of Bastet, the Egyptian cat goddess (although for the most part I am a follower of the Shekinah). What moved me enormously was when she dropped her cool before two photographs in a display of Beat Generation photography I had mounted at the then Bayly Art Museum. The first photograph showed Jack Kerouac literally inundated with excited groupies, a sea or wave of flesh. Hesitantly, I asked her if, indeed, as she related somewhat pornographically in Memoirs of a Beatnik, she had simultaneously taken to bed one strenuous but gleeful evening Jack Kerouac, Ginsberg , two ballet dancers and a number of other Beat writers.

In a priestly manner, she assured me that that part of her memoir was accurate, but then we came to an image of real love and pain. I was shocked to see her weep before a photograph of herself and poet LeRoi Jones (now again-controversial Amiri Baraka) sitting together in a well-known tavern.

She had had a child by Baraka, then married to the poet Hettie Jones. Baraka hated white people, women, Jews, Christians, non-Marxists, middleclass Blacks, Americans. To say the least, their love could not last. Di Prima, strong and inspired, wept before that photograph. Beatnik glory, Beatnik sorrow.

In her intoxicatingly beautiful recent memoir, Recollections of My Life as a Woman, the violence-hating di Prima mentions casually appalling things about her relationship with Baraka – things even more frightening to think about nowadays. But she merrily and courageously bore many children to many people and sustained many eccentric friends and lovers. Moreover, nobly wrote her own work and printed the work of her friends with the highest and loveliest of Romantic ideals. In the midst of Beatnik poverty, she constantly upheld the Platonic and Keatsian identity of beauty, truth, and goodness.

Di Prima says: "Beauty is Truth…we took refuge in that place…To be an artist: outcast…and explorer…Pushing the bounds of …the humanly possible, the shape of a human life. Continual allegory."

Of a woman’s life, pushing the limits.

Opening endlessly to the image, words. The rhythm or pattern, sound – the vector swiftly drawn in the dark. And fleeting as lightning….

It wasn’t just the work, though the work was clearly blessed. Nor was it the rewards, which were none, as far as we knew. It was the life itself: a calling to the holiest life that was offered in our world. An artist.

Continual offering of our minds and hearts. Offering impersonally our most personal passion…What comfort we could give, and give each other. This beauty. Compassion disguised as aesthetics."

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Stars and bars

Thursday, October 24, was opening night for the Virginia Film Festival. Who among those attending the start of the "Wet"-themed, four-day cine-palooza didn’t have at least a few butterflies?

Certainly not Mike Kennedy, who took the seat next to me at the Culbreth Theatre. Unlike most of the attendees, Kennedy, a social worker from Salem, was dressed down, in jeans and a plaid shirt, but he looked excited. He’d been to the festival each of its 15 years, and had dozens of memories, the highlight being "standing next to Robert Mitchum while he was being interviewed."

Kennedy makes a short holiday of the event, book-ending the festival days with "a day to prepare and a day to recover." Unlike past years, however, he was going it alone last week. I was about to ask him his favorite festival moment, but the lights dimmed and we quieted quickly.

The screenings, by any measure, were a rousing success. Jeff Wadlow, son of late State Senator Emily Couric and the winner of the Chrysler Million Dollar Film Festival, spoke before and after his short films, Tower of Babble and Manual Labor, and the preview of his upcoming feature, Living a Lie, were screened for the audience. His films were kinetic and clever, remarkably assured and Wadlow himself was charismatic and effusive. He kept the crowd laughing.

There was a sober moment, however, when Wadlow offered a tribute to his mother. He detailed her unflagging support of his lifelong ambition to direct films, and compared the exhilaration he feels on a movie set to similar feelings his mom derived from her work in Charlottesville.

Like her son the director, "she was high on a rush day and night, working with people to achieve one common goal," he said.

Director Ron Maxwell, there to present and discuss a specially prepared preview of his soon-to-be released Civil War epic Gods and Generals, also got a positive response. The excerpts from the film revealed a lavish, detailed production and hinted at great performances by Robert Duvall as Robert E. Lee and Stephen Lang as Stonewall Jackson.

Maxwell said his study of history had led him to believe in the power of the individual. It seemed a topical message.

Like our forefathers in the Civil War, "we too are swept up in events, but we too can have an effect on events in large and small ways," he said.

After the screening, those lucky enough to have landed a ticket strolled down Rugby Road to the party at the UVA Art Museum, which turned out to be quite a spectacle. Cylindrical tables with sky-blue tablecloths dotted the gallery floor, and soon became crowded with empty wine gasses. Tuxedoed sponsors watched the doorway for arriving notables. A group of glamorous-looking young people, one with a long green tattoo snaking down her arm, gathered in the corner, while behind them the Philistines dutifully captured Samson on a giant canvas. In the center of it all, Albemarle resident Sissy Spacek, petite and graceful as ever, shook hands and had a smile for everybody while the photographers snapped in the background.

By 11:15pm, the crowd was beginning to disperse. A caterer broke a bottle of wine, which caused a momentary hush as it splattered less on the guests than on the base of the marble statue five feet away.

"Is that stain coming out?" a woman wondered. It was time to go. –

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News

The C-ville drought survival guide

Daily we have waitedby the fax machine for a dousing of the region’s bad news, expressed in terms of percents and millions of gallons: 54.2, 7.091; 53.2, 6.905. These are, of course, the terms of the drought (reservoir level and regional usage), which, even after a healing, gentle rain, have not fundamentally changed since August. Charts, graphs, Wet Ones and paper plates…Will this disposable reality never end?

You’ve heard of chronic fatigue syndrome? We’re all in danger of contracting crisis fatigue syndrome.

Let it never be said, however, that C-VILLE shirks its public duty. (We might redefine it once in a while, but that is another matter.) To that end, we present this week a partial guide to getting through the water shortage with, we hope, your good humor intact. We have put together some of the region’s finest minds to celebrate our arid condition, be it through a liberating session of shrub-hydrating outdoor urination or a new stick of floral-scented underarm deodorant. Also in our guide: the truth about bottled water. We taste-tested two dozen varieties so you won’t have to.

And then there are the hearty artists behind the newly mounted Fringe Festival, who, like desert cactuses, have kept the concept of "wet" (this year’s curatorial theme) tucked deep inside while they deal with dry conditions on the outside.

Rounding out our survival guide on page 63, Natalie Estrellita wrestles with many of the crisis’ imponderables: If we’re running low on water, she slyly inquires, is it still possible to tap dance?


Liquid Diet

C-VILLE’s experts put the bottled water regime to the test

Drought conditions may be plaguing the area’s aquifers,but inside local supermarkets there’s a flood of bottled choices. To do your part you know you should be drinking water from a plastic jug, but which one? Bottled water ranges in price from 50 cents to $1.60 per gallon, but you can’t choose simply on the basis of that because your taste buds don’t care about the cost.

Still, between rushing to the waterless car wash and striding the length of the Downtown Mall to find the one restaurant that will still let the public use its lavatories, not to mention collecting soapy dishwater to feed your scrawny houseplants, who has time to try the many varieties of pre-packaged potables?

Never fear: C-VILLE Weekly has assembled a crack team of highly trained aqua-logists to test 28 varieties of non-flavored, non-carbonated bottled water under strict laboratory conditions. Each of our eight panel members tasted the samples blindly. Between tastes, they were offered a palate cleanser of the most pristine variety: Molson’s. The water experts were not permitted to leave the room until the entire assortment was sampled, which, in time, gave a second meaning to the notion that they were holding water.

Kroger Drinking Water

Isn’t it all "drinking" water, you wonder? In a manner of speaking, yes, but what distinguishes Kroger’s variety is that it’s, and we quote, "from a municipal source." Our judges’ comments included "It tastes kind of thick;" "It has a bad bottom note to it;" and "It tastes like a fleece sweater."

Triton Purified Drinking Water

"Tested daily, exceeds all standards" proclaims the label. While it didn’t earn the resounding thumbs-down of the Kroger variety, it wasn’t exactly a runaway hit, either: "This tastes like something that would hang around in my cat’s bowl for days;" "It has flavor;" and "I have a hair in mine" were among the comments.

Food Lion Drinking Water

Also bottled at a municipal source (from Abington, according to the label), this water prompted some of the judges to break into the theme song from Caddyshack . One declared it was "better than Evian." Another said it was "pungent."

Giant Filtered Drinking Water

Here’s your source, Charlottesville: The "Washington Suburban Sanitary Commission Water Supply." And here is the comment from your panel of taste-testers: "It tastes like it should." Go figure.

Harris Teeter Purified Drinking Water

North Carolina drinking water at its finest, this stuff was a certified loser: "Absolutely horrible;" "bitter;" and "rancid," were representative comments. Finally, one judge broke her silence: "Can I have a palate cleanser?" she asked.

Dasani Purified Water

This Coke product is "enhanced with minerals for a pure, fresh taste." And while one analyst declared its aftertaste to be "clingy," everybody else gave it a 10.

Aquafina Purified Drinking Water

And, in this corner, the Pepsi entry into the water field. Also highly appreciated by the panel of experts, this one was said to have "the least foreign flavor."

Charlottesville Municipal Water

It seemed only fitting that we should add City water to the mix, but we sure couldn’t slip it past our experts. "It’s chlorinated," they exclaimed, "it tastes like pool water." "This is definitely City water," said one, "and I’m going to need a lot of palate cleansing after this."

Amelia Springs Water

Drawn from an underground source in Amelia, this stuff was a hit in the office, er, lab. Among the judges’ remarks: "No aftertaste;" "I like this one;" and "Throw it in the back of your mouth, swish it around and you’ll taste the snow."

Deer Park Natural Spring Water

The source is Hoffman Spring in New Tripoli, Pennsylvania, and the positive comments were unanimous. "It’s simple and clean," said one taste-tester.

Shenandoah Spring Water

Straight from the Valley, it was one judge’s favorite because it "had the least taste of all." To which another connoisseur added, "It tastes like light beer."

Dannon Natural Spring Water

Funny, not one person suggested it tasted like yogurt.

Iceland Spring Natural Spring Water

Ranking dead last among the international contingent, this spring water, which proclaims itself "from the virtually untouched land of the Midnight Sun and the Northern Lights," was deemed to "taste like paint." The general consensus: "Yuck." 

Canadian Naturelle Spring Water

Everybody now: "Blame Canada, blame Canada." Really, it’s not Canadians’ fault if they cannot defend their own national borders. But what explains the taste of this water? "It’s funky," said one analyst. "It’s moldy," said another. One person declared it "halfway decent," and another began to complain of bloating.

Evian Natural Mineral Water

It may be "from the Alps," but our team thought it was more like Alpo. "Nasty, nasty, nasty!" "It has a bad back taste." "It tastes like YMCA showers."

Volvic Natural Spring Water

Also from France, the name of this product, when revealed, provoked a lot of gynecological puns that would be inappropriate for a family newspaper. Not quite as reviled as its Gallic compatriot, this water earned a couple of murmurs of "It’s OK," along with the question, "Did you pee in this?"

365 Spring Water

365 is the store brand for Whole Foods Market and its spring water is from Harpersfield, New York. There was nothing special to report about what most agreed was a neutral water. One person labeled it "flat." Another said "I can taste the corporate mind-control devices in this one," but we think maybe a peek at the label prompted that remark.

Poland Springs Natural Spring Water

It’s actually from Maine, not Poland, but one smarty-pants (we really think this guy was peeking) announced, "This one tastes Polish." We have no idea what that means, but another very finicky expert called it her favorite. "It tastes how water should taste," she said.

Laure Pristine Spring Water

We think the palate cleanser must have been getting to the judges by the time they tasted this product of the Great Smoky Mountains, because one said it was "a little oakey, a little buttery."

Kroger Spring Water

The spring in question is located in Richmond and the taste, according to the experts, was simultaneously "very neutral," "better than swamp water" and "kind of metallic."

Giant Natural Mountain Spring Water

Three separate Pennsylvania springs supply the water that was disliked by all and described by one as "hot tub water."

Pocono Springs Pure Mountain Spring Water

Another entry from Pennsylvania, this one fared no better with our judges. "Tastes like chemicals," said one.

Harris Teeter Natural Spring Water

North Carolina is the source, which one taste-tester declared superior in principle to France. "It tastes better than Evian," she said.

Food Lion Pure Spring Water

The label does not reveal the source of the lion’s fluid, but one person opined that it "tastes like water at the beach."

Triton Spring Water

What is it about North Carolina and water? Sometimes we love it, sometimes we don’t. The taste was described as "sweet," "organic" and "earthy."

Crystal Springs Spring Water with Fluoride

The water comes from Georgia, but there’s no word on the source of the fluoride. It was described as "tart" and tasting like "tap water." Duh!

Trinity Natural Mineral Dietary Supplement

The water is "collected" in Idaho, according to the label, and it should remain out west, according to our folks. Summing up, one person slyly declared it was "WNRN water." Ha ha.

Fiji Natural Artesian Water

Packaged in a lovely floral bottle and hailing from Viti Levu, this exotic libation inspired divergent remarks. "It has a bitter aftertaste," one expert said. "I feel like I’m getting the most nutrition from this one," said another.


Bathe less – smell better!

How to disguise the drought’s personal effects on a budget

My friend "Lynn" showers twice a day. She keeps a stock of Victoria’s Secret body lotions, Bumble & Bumble fragrant conditioners, Bath & Body Works moisturizing sprays, designer colognes and various deodorants cluttered around her bathroom for any time she deems necessary to "freshen up." It takes her most of the day before she’s ready to leave. My other friend "Ryan" bathes as infrequently as possible. He proudly sports the scent of "ew, de Ryan," and people generally know he’s coming before they hear or see him. Most of those who share his philosophy prefer to live free and wild and "how nature intended us to be."

Considering the current drought conditions, I admire the restraint Ryan shows in water usage. He always seems happy and comfortable. At the same time, I notice the way Lynn draws people to her – how nostrils seem to dilate in her presence. My budget constraints prevent me from emulating her spending habits on toiletries, but my social desires stymie me from accepting Ryan’s routine. I have $20.02 for products that will simultaneously reduce water consumption and still let me feel as sanitary as a cotton ball dipped in alcohol.

I’m on a mission. My first stop is a local grocery store. Apparently, somebody had the bright idea of enlarging those fun travel wipes into portable antibacterial washcloths for the entire body. A pack of 32 costs $2.59, so I can stock up on an eight-month supply. I can hardly wait to bust one open and swash myself from head to toe like I’m waxing a finely tuned vehicle. Vroom!

Speaking of smooth operators, depilatories may be the best alternative to running a faucet over a razor. Three or four of one popular brand can be mine for $5.39 each, and I might get Ryan to sing "Legs! She knows how to use them," whenever I walk into a room. Fortunately for my wallet, I happen to be blessed with a naturally hairless body, like a bald eagle I tell you, so I can save for other items.

These handy facial cleansing, make-up removing towelettes , for example, are on sale at $1.99. I do indeed have sensitive skin, and all those lifestyle magazines discourage using soap on our kissers. Yes!

Stridex offers face wipes "to go" for $5.29. No more blemishes while I’m on the run. Lynn will be so jealous when she sees my new radiant complexion.

You know, sometimes you are what you wear, and I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m a compost heap or, on a good day, a food disposal. Perhaps I should invest in these dry cleaning sheets to throw in with my soiled, yet stain-treated, apparel. They seem reasonably priced at $9.99 for enough to wash 24 garments.

Oh! Waterless hand sanitizers kill something like 99.99 percent of germs (but hey, who’s counting?), and an 8-ounce bottle sells for $3.49. I could buy five of them and zap any critter who so much as looks at me funny.

Well, I’m out of time, kids. If only I could stand on this soapbox (wink) a little longer to teach all the Ryans and Lynns of this world how to compromise. Smell you later.

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Wet around the edges

Plink, plink, plunk:

The previous night’s rain convenes in small pools on the dusty wood floor. It’s a Sunday morning at the former Frank Ix Building, an old silk factory turned exhibition space on the corner of Monticello Avenue and Second Street S.E., and three UVA art students – Liz Pisciotta, Margaret Gabriela Vest and Erin Crowe – survey the bare surroundings.

Surprisingly alert (considering they have been up all night, running on Three Musketeers bars and working on art projects), the three women stand amidst the emptiness, envisioning just how the upcoming Fringe Festival, with its "Wet" theme, will come to life between October 18 and November 9. They are its organizers.

Previously a one-man show headed by UVA’s director of studio arts, Bill Bennett, the UVA all-arts Fringe Festival – complement to the annual Virginia Film Festival – will be entirely student-run this year. Curatorial duties such as mapping out the exhibition space, trying to get diverse classes and teachers involved, publicizing the event, delegating tasks to peers and tending the logistics that accompany event-planning are a few of the responsibilities that this trio have taken on.

Responsibility, however, comes at a price. "My social life right now is the art department," says Pisciotta, a fifth-year student at UVA who graduated last year with a double major in medical anthropology and art. Pisciotta, now a fellow in the art department’s post-baccalaureate Aunspaugh Program, serves as an important link in passing on the knowledge from previous Fringe Festivals. The theme for last year’s festival (and film festival) was "Masquerade;" and this fit well with Pisciotta, whose art is usually "body related," she says. One of her installations included prints, taken over the course of a month, of her eyelashes as she removed mascara. They hung as a calendar, fluttering in an empty doorway and quickly became a "turning point" in Pisciotta’s evolution as an artist. Since then, Pisciotta’s self-image as an artist has grown to encompass more than art creation.

"A lot of art is actually getting it out there and doing curation, publicizing events and event planning," she says.

Crowe, the other Fringe co-chair, is a distinguished arts major in her senior year. "It’s unbelievable to have to plan this and get our art work done for it," Crowe says. "Technically, we’re trying to organize the whole art department and about five or six other departments, as well as other student groups we’ve gotten involved with this year."

With a minor in government and a focus on American politics, Crowe finds that she prefers to produce art that serves a political function.

"Erin has causes," says Pisciotta, and Crowe’s recent project of painting dog portraits at Fluvanna’s SPCA says it all.

"I have a fascination with having a specific message," says Crowe. "I don’t want to paint something that’s just pretty, I want to help the world. To have something that you have a reaction to."

For this year’s festival, one of Crowe’s installations will feature a wall of Latex, milk-filled breasts. Not only does this particular work of hers explore a wetness that is not of water, but it also honors October as national breast cancer awareness month, Crowe says.

Equally important to pulling off this shindig is Vest, president of UVA’s Art Student Society with a double major in art and cognitive science, who is intrigued by the link between water conservation and art. One of her fringe pieces grew from the story of a man who was locked in a car in the desert, living off the water he collected from a folded piece of Saran Wrap that he placed on his dashboard each day. With this as inspiration, Vest has been playing with the idea of creating moisture just from breath, she says, and doing so through the media of plastic gloves and her own breath.

Ultimately, these three women have been given a rare opportunity: They have learned as much about life as they have about art in organizing an arts festival, Crowe says. In surveying the deserted, and still rather dirty, Ix building, Crowe, Pisciotta and Vest look at one another and sigh, thinking of all that needs to come together before the Festival takes off. Yet the sound of falling raindrops reverberates, suggesting, perhaps, that their course is positive.

"We’re going to be up late tonight," Pisciotta says with a laugh.

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News

Holding Out

This isn’t Mayberry.

Slipping away are the days when store owners know you by name, you can pay on a tab and deals are made with a handshake. For one Charlottesville Mom-and-Pop shop, holding on to that ideal is more than a nostalgic whim: it’s a matter of principle and necessity.Look while you can. On the corner of Emmet Street and Barracks Road, across the way from the chain of multinational stores, you’ll see a remnant of yesterday – the humble, folksy Meadowbrook Shopping Centre.

"When we first moved in, Mrs. Mary Wheeler wanted to keep the shopping center like it was: an old-fashioned hardware store, an old-fashioned drug store and an old-fashioned grocery store that makes local deliveries," recalls Jean Anderson of Anderson’s Carriage Food House, one of a dozen stores in the Meadowbrook center. "After we moved in, she had a stroke and, shortly afterward, passed away." Suddenly, the old-fashioned hardware store was gone. Things started changing. People started moving.

"Meadowbrook was probably the first shopping center I can recall in Charlottesville," says Ronnie Kite, owner of Meadowbrook Hardware. In 1954 it was built by Harry Wheeler on a field behind Carol’s Tearoom and a filling station. In came a drive-up restaurant called Gus’ (now The Tavern), Meadowbrook Pharmacy, the hardware store, a car wash and a laundromat.

According to those who worked there, it was more than business, it was community. To this day, for instance, Meadowbrook Pharmacy still delivers within a three-mile radius. The Andersons let patrons pay on a tab and make home deliveries to the elderly. Meadowbrook Hardware, which relocated to Preston Avenue in 1998, keeps up the tradition of knowing its customers. "If we don’t know the names, we recognize the faces," says Kite.

When Harry Wheeler passed away in 1981, his wife, Mary, took over the running of Meadowbrook. "Everybody loved Mrs. Mary," says Jean Anderson.

"Tough lady, but a good landlord," adds Tavern owner Shelly Gordon.

Mary Wheeler was famous for her page-and-a-half leases. "It basically said if you didn’t pay by the 10th, she had the right to evict you," recalls Gordon. She also demanded the lessees use their own names, not their business’ names on the contract. "Made it personal," says Gordon.

All of which makes the recent suits in Charlottesville circuit courts truly hit home. The court docket speaks for itself: Meadowbrook Shopping Centre, LLC v. Ronald Kite, Meadowbrook Shopping Centre, LLC v. Fred Lundmark, Meadowbrook Shopping Centre, LLC v. Edwin and Jean Anderson.

"It’s been a nightmare," says Jean Anderson, sitting among piles of legal papers in the back of her family’s store. In 1999, Meadowbrook, under the new stewardship of Mary’s daughter Clarabell and William S. Rice Real Estate, attempted to terminate their lease. The Andersons fought to stay – a right they maintain is theirs by law.

"We’re good tenants," Jean Anderson says. "We try to keep it clean. My husband goes around the parking lot and sweeps up the cigarette butts…We try to do exactly what old Mrs. Wheeler asked us to do." Nonetheless, Meadowbrook insists they must go.

 

The case hinges on a conflict of clauses. Paragraph four of their boilerplate lease states that either Meadowbrook or the Andersons may terminate the lease by serving the other with written notice. But addendum nine of their lease states that, after their first five years, the Andersons have three consecutive five-year options to continue the lease – last September, they exercised that option.

The Andersons’ lawyer, Garrett Smith, says the addendum supercedes the old clause. Meadowbrook lawyer Robert Blodinger sees no conflict in meaning, contending that the options are only viable if the landlord doesn’t terminate the lease first – which it attempted to do last August. During the preliminary hearing, Judge Edward Hogshire commented, "Isn’t that a little bit of a stretch?"

Property manager Rice agrees that the Andersons have a long-term lease. When asked about the Anderson’s future, he said that they are entitled to that spot. Moreover, he said that there is no plan for a new tenant at Andersons. When the discussion moved to the recent litigation, however, he appeared to change his tune. "Talking about the case is off limits," he insisted. Clarabell Wheeler and her legal counsel declined to comment, surprised that local media is even interested in tracking the case.

For some, though, this court battle is about more than words on a document. It’s about livelihoods – and tactics.

"They have done everything in their power to make us leave," says Jean Anderson. "Mean, mean things." These allegations are laid out in the Andersons’ 25-item Breach of Contract countersuit, which charges, among other things, that Meadowbrook agent Bill Rice has repeatedly harassed, disrupted and damaged the Andersons’ business by falsely reporting unfounded violations of health and safety laws to state and local officials.

It also alleges that Meadowbrook was aware of roof leaks and negligently failed to fix them. One example is a large chunk of ceiling that swelled and caved in over a food case and stayed unrepaired for five weeks (and remains so at the printing of this article). Rice claims, "When we find a problem, we react to it promptly," but, when asked specifically about the hole in the ceiling, Rice replied, "condensation."

"I’m not going to tell you what I really think of Clarabell Wheeler or Bill Rice," says Mrs. Anderson. The Andersons apparently are not alone: One anonymous Meadowbrook tenant said something unprintable about Rice – another hint of the underlying dislike some feel for recent upheavals at Meadowbrook.

Corky Pace, of Pace Painting, who left after Meadowbrook doubled his rent in 1998, says he couldn’t get along with the new corporate management. Pace says money wasn’t really the problem. "I left Meadowbrook because I didn’t like what was going on and I didn’t like Bill."

Other former tenants apparently felt likewise. Pace recalls speaking to Dave Cooke, who owned Cooke’s Laundromat: "I saw Mr. Cooke out there and Bill’s name comes up with a few adjectives next to it."

Last August, one Meadowbrook business prevailed against its lessor’s contentions. Meadowbrook attempted to evict Pet Barn for an alleged code-violation. They took it to court and lost. Now, Meadowbrook is appealing the case. Plus, they have demanded that Pet Barn get rid of Ally, its pet alligator. A line in the lease prohibits pets on the premises. Of course, the store is called "Pet Barn," which would make one doubt the aptitude of whoever drafted the lease. Fred Lundmark, the store’s manager, declined to comment.

Pet Barn, too, has an option to renew its lease – as do most of the proprietors in Meadowbrook – but not all of them share the Andersons’ travails.

"We’re happy as a clam" says Mary Humphrey, owner of Cottonwood, one of Charlottesville’s premier quilting stores, where the Quilters Guild meets every other Tuesday.

"They’ve always treated me fairly," says Willie Lamar, owner of Meadowbrook Pharmacy. "My lease is solid," he adds. Although, it, too, will be up in three years, with an option to renew for five more years.

John Cassell of Great Graphics discount framemakers is more than generous in his praise. "[Meadowbrook] did a great job: new electrical work, redid the front, asphalted the drive – made a major improvement in the space." Meadowbrook is, indeed, shaping up.

 

Currently, Meadowbrook is in the midst of a quarter-million dollar facelift including new facades and, it seems, new businesses. The most recent addition is Spring Street, a hip women’s clothing boutique, slated to open October 15.

Ostensibly, the revamped Meadowbrook would have no place for shops like Meadowbrook Hardware, which left in 1998. When the hardware store’s lease expired, a new lease was drawn up in less-favorable terms. The rent was increased and, more importantly, Meadowbrook would no longer allow tractor trailers in the parking lot…without which the hardware store could not operate.

"If [the new lease] had been anywhere reasonable, we still would have been there," says owner Kite. The store almost disappeared completely. "Could have just closed down and sold out," says Kite. "Had a lot of people working for me for a number of years…I thought we could move and reopen and keep on. So we did."

Meadowbrook pursued Kite with a suit in 2001, alleging he owed money for repairs to the property. The case was ultimately declared a non-suit and stricken from the docket.

Kite doesn’t see much future for mom-and-pops like his. "Small businesses like this, if you were starting out today, here, you’d have a hard time. Having been at it going on 41 years now, that’s helping us continue on."

Shelly Gordon’s Tavern, too, hangs on such tenuous threads. Under Mary Wheeler, he could get by. "Now [Meadowbrook] is nothing but a damn business. My lease goes up compounded 5 percent every year. It gets to the point of no return. Nobody’s going to be able to afford it."

Gordon attributes the change to Rice, who, after an elderly Mary Wheeler transferred ownership of her 4.5 acres to Meadowbrook Shopping Centre, LLC, instituted six-page leases and escalation policies. "A little heavy handed," says Gordon, "trying to sue people to kick them out of here." It’s nothing like the old days. "Mary used to come in here and be very gracious. We’d hug and all that stuff. Since Mary died, Clarabell hasn’t been in here once."

The Tavern has three years before it faces its option to renew for five more. Gordon is not optimistic. "I don’t think the Tavern will be around for another eight years," he says. "Mom-and-pops, I think they’re a thing of the past."

What may fill their absence? Rumors abound. Rite Aid, CVS and Walgreen’s allegedly bid on Meadowbrook property. Rice contends, however, that no sound offers were made. Moreover, he says that Charlottesville’s mom-and-pop institutions are not in danger of vanishing. "There are no plans whatsoever for the Tavern and Andersons," says Rice. Although, he "wouldn’t turn down a CVS or Walgreen’s."

"If the offer’s big enough, [Clarabell Wheeler]’s going to sell out," predicts Gordon. "If so, everything is going to be changed around, an office building put up and a CVS or a Rite Aid."

What then happens to the Andersons? Cassel from Great Graphics sees a simple resolution: "They have to buy Andersons out. Andersons has a lease. They’re going to be hard pressed to get rid of them. Obviously, if you’re willing to write a big enough check, it’s a done deal."

 

One of the key pieces remaining in this puzzle is the parcel directly on the corner, occupied by another definitive mom-and-pop, ALC (A Local Choice) Copies. Their property is owned by Dave Matthews Band manager Coran Capshaw and therefore must be negotiated separately if a large buyer wants the entire corner. ALC owner John Chmil is glad to not be in the Andersons’ shoes. "Coran has been great," he says.

Jim Morris, who manages Capshaw’s Meadowbrook property, says not to expect anything to happen in the space. "ALC should be there for a while." He was not at liberty to discuss the matter further.

Ultimately, Chmil acknowledges the inevitability of a larger business replacing his. "We’ll be here until the wrecking ball comes." He adds, "But I don’t know why Charlottesville needs another CVS."

The Andersons, too, see the writing on the wall. "A year ago, we were so tired of all of this we would have taken a little bit of money and left," says Jean Anderson – $250,000 to be exact. "We’d like our moneyback that we put into this. At one point, that’s all we were asking for." Now, it’s gone too far. "It has cost us a lot of money, legal fees every month for the past three years."

"We’re exhausted," adds Jean’s son Ted, who helps run the store. "If we didn’t have the stress and financial burden through the last four or five years we could have taken all that energy and finances and put it back into the business."

Jean Anderson elaborates, "I’m not going to let somebody kick me out on the street when it took 23 years to get here. Ed and I are close to retirement age. I’ve got three children that work here, there’s no way I’m going to let them go on the street." She puts her fist down. "We’ll fight this. If it takes every penny I’ve got, I will fight on, because I’m not wrong. I’m right."

Shelly Gordon hopes it won’t come to that for the Andersons or for the Tavern. "I don’t know if Clarabell is really sincere about holding onto her father’s treasured memories or whether she’s going to see the light." Only the upcoming months will tell.

But Ted Anderson paints a picture all-too-common for today’s mom-and-pop shops: "I am almost 40-years old. I have three kids. And I don’t know where I am going to be next year…If everything falls through, I guess I’ll get a job in corporate America." If worst comes to worst, perhaps CVS, Rite-Aid or Walgreen’s will have an opening. And then this won’t be Mayberry at all.

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Testing the Waters

Wherever waters gather, be it bay or brook, monitors will soon don their hip boots to mark the 30th anniversary of the Clean Water Act. Charlottesville resident John Murphy hasn’t yet picked his site, but knows he’ll be somewhere in a "riffle" – the bubbly part of a stream – counting bugs.

Between October 18 and 24, Murphy, an environmental writer and certified volunteer water monitor, will be sampling in the Rivanna watershed as part of a nationwide survey. Virginia’s non-profit Save our Streams and other conservation groups here are also poised to count the catch. When the splash of festivities is over, the resulting "snapshot" of our nation’s waters will be posted on the Year of Clean Water website, www.yearofcleanwater.org.

By and large, the celebration will be catered by the grassroots – volunteers like Murphy who will pitch tables set with utensils such as ice cube trays, magnifiers and tweezers. The untrained will use kits to measure parameters like temperature and pH, or the Secchi disk, a lake science tool that’s been kicking around since 1866, while trained participants are more likely to dip nets and count aquatic bugs. Sensitive to pollutants, their numbers indicate water condition.

Murphy says volunteers are crucial to the quest for clean water. "Public resource management agencies are underfunded," he says. "They can’t possibly do the job." An interest in stream ecology led the 45-year old to train for certification five months ago. In Virginia, some 300 certified monitors draw attention to challenged streams by providing data to the Department of Environmental Quality.

While 40 percent of Virginia’s stream miles are impaired, the damage is concentrated in the heavily urbanized, Northern region. The Rivanna watershed remains relatively healthy. "We’ve got a good thing here," says Murphy, "but we’re concerned about the trend." Accordingto the DEQ, this region’s impaired stream miles doubled between 1998 and 2002.

Since the birth of the Clean Water Act in 1972, says Murphy, "The nation has pursued cleanup of point-source pollution, particularly through wastewater treatment." Today the task is aimed at a more insidious ill: non-point source pollution, that is, a glut of nameless pollutants of anonymous origin. Such damage accounts for most of the state’s impaired waters. Whatever its sources, one response to pollution, suggests Murphy, is the local implementation of buffer zones, or forested strips abutting streams to protect against human impact. The Thomas Jefferson Soil and Water Conservation District, which facilitates buffer zone installation, is supportive of citizen monitoring, he says. "Monitoring data can help them with site selection, and can also help confirm the effectiveness of the buffer."

Next on Murphy’s calendar is the formation of a new, sustained citizen monitoring program. The effort will involve local conservation and resource agencies, and began with the 1997-1998 Rivanna Roundtable, coordinated by the Thomas Jefferson Planning District Commission. A monitoring project was initiated then, but soon encountered funding difficulties.

While the Clean Water Act anniversary is a cause to celebrate, the widespread activities might suggest that every stream has its guardian. The truth is, the ratio of monitors to streams leaves most waters unsupervised. Scientists estimate that 75 percent of Virginia’s surface water is of "unknown quality."

Like most volunteers, John Murphy enjoys conducting the outdoor surveys, which he says require "about 6-8 hours a year." Waiting for the picture of a stream’s health to develop, an entire ecosystem comes into focus; its plants and animals, slopes and depths, the rocks and casings housing bug-life.

It’s worth it, Murphy knows, to keep "a good thing" going. The goal: no stone unturned, no organism uncounted, no stream left behind.

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Uncategorized

Pairing down PVCC

Straying from the usual despairing discussion of water, the subject of Wednesday’s October 2 meeting among the Board of County Supervisors brought to light an entirely different kind of drought–the State budget.

Piedmont Virginia Community College prides itself on making higher education accessible to everyone, but while its enrollment keeps rising (June 30 marked the highest in history–7,000), its funding keeps decreasing. And with the dark cloud of budgetary cuts forecasting a 7 percent, 11 percent or 15 percent decrease in spending for 2002-2004, PVCC finds little humor in the irony that, instead of adding new programs to feed new demand, it will be discussing instead what can and cannot be eliminated.

Anticipating that State boards will also announce another tuition increase, PVCC may find it hard to fulfill its promise of "higher education accessibility." "These budget cuts could be a serious blow," says Supervisor Dennis Rooker, "especially considering all that PVCC provides to area residents."

Of the 7,000 students currently enrolled in courses for credit, one-quarter are Albemarle County residents, hence the discussion among County Supervisors. PVCC already struggles to fit its enrolled students into night course programs; 500 students now attend PVCC classes at Albemarle High School and 90 are driving themselves to Monticello High. The worry over night class enrollment isn’t the only thing causing President Frank Friedman to lose sleep; PVCC has more than 400 high school students earning college credit with PVCC’s dual enrollment program. It also boasts 600 students enrolled in classes provided over the Internet and 125 enrolled via video conferencing classes.

"We are using technology to make it happen," says Friedman, "giving students valuable information they might not get otherwise."

Two of PVCC’s major funding requests will support a new fire-suppression system in the 30-year-old main building and a new science and technology building, which will include science labs, more classrooms and new programs–especially in the growing healthcare arena. The college wants $5 million for that project. It also hopes to raise a scholarship fund and ramp up guidance services.

"We have far too many students just wandering through our program," says Friedman, "and we need some solid advisors to direct these students."

Even with the State budgetary shortfall clocking in at $2 billion, PVCC figures that if its neighbors at UVA can put $128 million into building a new basketball arena, certainly the community college could round up a measly $5 million.

Within the next 24 months, Friedman and his board will be gearing up to launch a massive fundraising campaign. Knowing PVCC doesn’t have nearly the alumni support and spirit UVA might, Friedman retains his positive outlook. "In the future, we would love to go as far as bringing the Monticello Visitors Center back into PVCC," he says.

But for now, Friedman’s primary goals focus on the future of his students, and his community.

"We cannot turn any of these students away," says Friedman, "be it night courses, dual enrollment, video conferencing classes. Our entire purpose is to bring people of all ages from all areas into higher education, not turn them away."