Previously, we have written about 137 12th Street, Fortuna CA 95540 - the decaying, mold-infested apartments, located only a few hundred feet from Fortuna High School.
After Professional Property Management (PPM) evicted us from the bedbug-infested, mold-infested apartment they were charging us rent for, at 137 12th Street, we were lucky enough to find a two-bedroom apartment - on Smith Lane, still in Fortuna, still within walking distance of our children's schools.
(Many thanks are due to Keath North, of Loleta Realty. Keath is no longer with us, but he is sorely missed. He was a gentleman, a responsible man, and ethical, to boot. I'm sorry I did not know him better.)
The apartment's rear faced upon an vacant lot, that was covered with grass and blackberry bushes and separated from the apartment complex by an old wooden fence. Local cats enjoyed the huge hunting reserve, filled with mice, next door. 
Humans enjoyed the occasional mama deer that wandered into the lot, with her fawns, following the scent of the stream that, rumor had it, had once run through the lot, so that the lot, it was said, was marked as a marsh, and could not be built upon.
All good things come to an end and so it was with the lot next door. One morning we awoke to the sound of vehicles and found the lot was being bulldozed clear of vegetation. Over the next few months, the lot was stripped bare, graded, and gravel was poured, in preparation for cement pads, which were poured - six buildings, in all.
We tried to be philosophical. It was, after all, a free lesson in all of the important points in the construction of a building. We had a ringside seat. But the workers began their work at 7:30 in the morning. That could be somewhat intrusive. And, for some reason, they had selected the second building site - the one that was closest to us - to be first.
We had the privilege of being somewhat above it all, and insulated from the vibration, as a result of being on the second floor. But downstairs it was a different story. The vibration of the steam roller, driving back and forth, back and forth, for eight hours a day, on top of the gravel, compressing it, shook our entire building, from the foundation upwards.
We called the Fortuna Police to ask if something could be done, and the dispatcher was apologetic - she said she had received many other calls about the construction on Smith Lane and its early starting time - but the people setting the hours of work were, apparently within the boundaries set by Fortuna's business-friendly government, and it was hard not to get the sense that the businesses, in Fortuna, were the real citizens ... and the citizens, were just renters.
On the first floor lived our neighbor, Chris, who is a big guy, and somewhat intimidating, but a very nice fellow, on the inside - and the proof is, that when his great-grandmother, Gloria Briceland-Alfred, needed a place to live, she picked Chris, her great big strapping great-grandson, to live with. She obviously felt safe with him. Childless domestic violence harpies, please take note.
Gloria would get up in the morning, and sit outside, in the sun, and enjoy the peace and quiet that comes with living next to a big, empty lot, full of birds. Our guess is that the big, empty lot next door may well have been one of the reasons Gloria picked Chris to live with - because she was old, and she just wanted a quiet place to enjoy her last few years, in peace.
We would step out, onto the deck above her, to greet the new day, and we would occasionally exchange a few words. We had that in common; our morning communion with nature, and our appreciation for the peace and quiet of the vacant lot.
When the construction began, Gloria's ability to sit outside and enjoy the morning was, first, interrupted, 
and then constrained, and, ultimately, eliminated.
The noise made it unbearable to sit outside. It was coming from men operating jack hammers and power tools and steam rollers and earth moving equipment, only a few yards away from Gloria's living room, just on the other side of that wooden fence, the noise insulated by just a sliding glass door.
Even during lunch when the machines and compressors were halted, there was loud music being played, and there was dust, and dirt, everywhere. It was no place for an elderly woman to sit and enjoy the sun - or a forbidden cigarette, for that matter.
Then the construction crew started building. It seemed like a conventional one story building. Everyone breathed a sign of relief - we had been afraid that it would be a two-story building, and that it would block off the sunlight.
But they finished the first floor, and started hammering a second floor onto the first floor. It seemed like a shoddy way to make a building - I'd always seen multi-story buildings assembled with the entire frame built, first, and that, composed of elements that were long enough, and strong enough, to support a continuous line of thrust, from top to bottom.
This building did not seem to adhere to those older construction principles. The second floor was basically bolted onto the ceiling of the first floor, using the same technology used to bolt the first floor to the cement foundation. But it wasn't clear to us how well the second floor would fare, in an earthquake. It seemed like a recipe for future problems.
That reminds us of a story ...
In the 1980s, our father - a hydrologist for the United States Geological Survey - was relocated to the USGS office in Vancouver, across the river from Portland, to assess the ways in which the eruption of Mount Saint Helens had altered the hydrological characteristics of the related watersheds.
Pursuant to this duty, a few years later our father hosted a Japanese seismologist and their partner, who was an architect. Offering them the hospitality of his house, outside Vancouver, so they did not need to drive back to Portland for the night, he was intrigued to learn that his guests did not wish to stay overnight in his house because it did not have a central support pole - a fundamental mechanism used to keep buildings from collapsing after earthquakes - required, by law, in Japan, but regarded as optional, here in the United States.
Our point being, not only do these brand new multi-unit apartments not each have a central support pole ... these buildings don't have any bottom-to-top support, at all, there is nothing that runs continuously from the bottom to the top at any point in the building, center or corners. It seems distinctly possible that these buildings will fold like houses of cards when there is a serious earthquake. Instead of ladders, the rescue personnel will need jacks - and cranes.
Now, back to our story.
... Then, our neighbor, downstairs - Gloria Briceland-Alfred - died.
It didn't happen all at once. She began to fade away. But it began right after they started building the 
second story.
As we read the situation, our neighbor, Gloria, realized that she would never be able to sit in the sun, on her back porch, and listen to the birds, or even smoke a cigarette, again - the property management company building the housing project next door, starting, every morning, at 7:30 (or before), had systematically stripped this poor woman of her morning meditation ... her peace and quiet ... the sounds of birds ... her sleep, in the morning ... and now, the sacred, blessed warmth of sunlight, on her elderly bones.
As we assess the situation, Gloria Briceland-Alfred realized that she had nothing left to live for. The energy was literally being sucked right out of her and there was nowhere that she could go to recharge her batteries. She no longer wanted to live among us - because we clearly do not have any use for the elderly, in Humboldt County ... unless they have money to spend.
And so she left, seeking something better. Hopefully, she found it.
This is the price of poorly planned progress. And we are all paying it. Not just Gloria.
This is how Humboldt County treats its elderly ... and anyone else who does not have money to insulate themselves from the abusive tendencies that large amounts of money, or power, bring forth, in some people.
A few months later, Gloria's neighbor - another elderly lady, right next door, also also on the first floor, who also liked to sit outside and have a cigarette, and watch the birds - also died.
We do not think this is a coincidence. Both women's living quarters were shadowed in the same way by the same building.
There is actually no discernable reason why the buildings needed to be built 
so close to the property line. Our sense is that the architect was trying to maximize their sunlight, at our expense. Not very neighborly.
The new buildings are so close we could toss a bean through our neighbor's window. They are so close that we could set up an acoustic microphone and listen to every word they are saying - and, they could do the same to us.
It is only a matter of time until two neighbors engage in a war of the stereos. The buildings are so close it is like living in a slum, in Hong Kong. One wonders what the planning department at Fortuna City Hall does - because they don't seem to be thinking too much about the future.
It's not even clear why we are building apartments. We don't need more crapshacks.
What we need are houses - real houses, with covered parking for multiple vehicles, so that we can travel to remote locations to do our work when required ... with room for gardens, so we can feed ourselves and not be dependent upon corporate grocery chains ... with room for workshops, so that we can add value to the economy or engage in art and culture, when we are not otherwise employed ... and with extra bedrooms, so that we can host visitors, travelers, and people in need of assistance - priced affordably, so that people are no longer beholden to self-proclaimed "landlords" whose greatest wish is to be in a position to rule over others.
We need to be honest with ourselves. Real estate predators are enemies to democracy. They work to concentrate the nation's wealth into few hands, not to distribute the nation's wealth to everyone so that it can be put to use. We should be criminalizing such behavior - not enabling it. But we digress.
An amusing side note: each apartment building has several kilowatts worth of solar panels installed on the rooftop. But the buildings have no batteries and so when there is a blackout, the buildings are powerless, even when the sun is shining. The solar panels exist purely to generate a second income stream for the property owner and add no value to the occupants' lives whatsoever.
Another amusing side note: each apartment building has enormous structural roof supports that are clearly designed to help the roof support a huge load of snow. They look very impressive - that is, until you walk around the building, and see that the "structural" roof supports are only installed on the three sides facing the public.
Either the fourth side is magically immune to load-bearing issues ... or, the supports on the other three sides are Disneyland-grade fakes. And that is just what they are - props, to make the building look more durable than it is, give it a little "ski lodge" flair. Presumably this is a move to justify raising the apartment complex's monthly rents ... and it could only have been inspired by greed. Let us call it what it is.
We conclude that Hollywood ethics have now penetrated the construction business, too, and, in today's Humboldt County construction industry, it's all about perception, and looks - not function. Caveat emptor, dear friends.
With our excellent view into our new neighbors' bedrooms, despite the blinds, we can see that the second floor apartments appears to be three-bedroom apartments, the largest and most expensive category of apartment on the lot. 
These three-bedroom apartments are intended for families. However, our sense is that they are actually too expensive for families with children.
The current residents of this three-bedroom luxury apartment appear to be from Central America. There seems to be rapid turnover. These new residents do not seem to have much furniture. Our sense is that these people are immigrants. It is not clear who is paying for the apartments - or how.
(Don't get us wrong. North America ... Central America ... South America ... we are all Americans. We have that in common. Our apologies to the native tribes that came before us - but if we go down that road, the Apache owe a big apology to the Anasazi, and we can go back even farther, but why pick at old wounds? Let's move forward here, together. The problem, here, is housing, and a lack of excess inventory. Not the occupants of the housing. Let us not lose our focus.)
Is the rental agency acting as master tenant and subletting each bedroom, separately, like slumlords?
Is some grower up in the hills renting entire three-bedroom apartments for his under-the-table Central American employees so they have a place to stay when they are in town for their free dental and medical care?
Is this some sort of Section 8 thing, run by the government?
Is it all three - the government providing Section 8 housing to immigrants, who are staying in rooms leased to the government by the property management firm, from which they commute to their under-the-counter jobs, in the hills, working for marijuana growers?
And what about those low-income apartments that were supposed to be part of the package, for low-income residents of Humboldt County? Who is occupying those apartments? Inquiring minds would like to know.
We brought some of these concerns to the attention of the Humboldt County Planning Commission, recently, but they professed helplessness, and referred us to the Fortuna planning commission, under whose authority all this is being done. The county is not oblivious to the issues. 
But the professionals are outnumbered by the politicians ... who just want to get re-elected and re-appointed to their well-paid sinecures.
However, whenever we think of the City of Fortuna's Planning Commission ... we are just naturally reminded of 137 12th Street.
We think these new buildings are so close to the property line that maintenance crews needing to remove the inevitable spider webs, or repaint these buildings, in a few years, are going to have problems.
It is a fact that the height-adjustable motorized platform that the construction crews used to work on the outside will no longer fit behind the buildings.
Emergency services are also out of luck, if they ever need to carry any firefighting equipment down that narrow corridor, between the rear of the building, and the fencing ... or carry loaded stretchers, back. There is literally no more than two feet of lateral space at some points. Firemen burdened with breathing apparatus will be unable to pass, even sideways.
We are not sure all this progress justifies the death of two elderly citizens.
It is not at all clear to us why this plot of land could not have been turned into a small park - with a playground, a few swings, a sandbox - shucks, maybe a duck pond - located exactly where it was needed, amongst apartments filled with families, off the beaten path, on a quiet street.
Food for thought.
Next: The apartment complex gets sold, and the new owners jack up the rent
