Chapter 22 : I am the Lorax; I speak for the Trees

By Steve Ongerth - From the book, Redwood Uprising: Book 1

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And then I got mad,
I got terribly mad,
I yelled at the Lorax, “Now listen here, Dad!”
All you do is yap and say, “Bad! Bad! Bad! Bad!”
Well, I have my rights, sir, and I’m telling you,
I intend to go on doing just what I do!”

--by Dr. Seuss, 1971

In an attempt to put a damper on the escalating conflicts over timber on the North Coast, Doug Bosco finally engineered a “compromise” between the timber industry and some environmentalists over the spotted owl. Under the congressman’s plan, the set asides for spotted owl pairs would be increased from 1,600 to 2,000 acres. However, to many of the more forward thinking environmentalists, this was inadequate, because studies showed that 2,600 acres was the minimum required size of a viable spotted owl habitat. Patricia Schifferle, director for the California and Nevada region of the Wilderness Society declared, “For now, I don’t really see that as a compromise…it’s like business as usual.” Judi Bari chimed in, “This kind of deal is why Earth First! doesn’t make deals…There is no solution there. The only solution would be sustained yield.” [1] Indeed, if Bosco had hoped to quell tensions, he failed miserably.

Meanwhile, back in Laytonville, Bill Bailey found a way to solve his problem, or at least he thought so. Convinced that the Laytonville school teachers were under the influence of “unwashed-out-of-town-jobless-hippies-on-drugs”, and needed stronger guidance from superintendant Brian Buckley, and convinced that Buckley needed tighter control from the Laytonville School Board, Bailey poured his financial resources into securing a majority of seats on that governing body. He started by getting himself elected, running ostensibly to oppose a development of a new high school on a questionable piece of land owned by real estate speculators, a project that was favored by the incumbent board members, but was unpopular among most of the community, including most progressives. He then managed to get his hired yes man, Mike Wilwand, as well as Art Harwood elected as well. Since Laytonville (the town) was unincorporated, but Laytonville Unified (the school district) was not, this was as close to a governing power that the community actually had. Bailey had his majority. [2]

Then, in mid September, Bill Bailey’s wife, Judith Bailey filed an official Request for Reconsideration of Materials form with the Laytonville School District requesting that The Lorax, which had been written eighteen years previously and had been on the required reading list for second graders for two years without comment, be removed. Mrs. Bailey cited California Education Code 60040 which prohibits references that “tend to demean, stereotype or be patronizing toward an occupation, vocation, or livelihood,” as grounds for removal, stating, “I feel when a second grader reads a line that says, ‘Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack,’ as a moral of the story, then he or she will feel that anyone who cuts down trees is bad.” Superintendant Buckley was duty bound to strike a special review committee, which was done composed of seven individuals including himself, two teachers, one librarian, the school library technician, and two district residents. One these two residents turned out to be Becky Harwood, Judith Bailey’s sister, Art Harwood’s wife. [3]

On Wednesday, September 13, 1989, a crowd filled the Laytonville Elementary School library to watch the review committee deliberate the issue. Naturally, Mrs. Harwood argued for the book’s removal, arguing that since it was written before the passage of current forestry legislation, it presented a misleading view of logging and that “Kids don’t have to feel bad about what their parents do.” Willits High School Librarian, Sue Jones, countered by saying, “You could use this book as a place of departure and talk about what you can do right in the forest. Someone from the lumber industry could come in and say how we used to do this, but we don’t do that anymore, and this is what we do now,” but this didn’t satisfy Bailey’s representative on the committee, insisting that people perceived the book as demeaning to the timber industry. [4]

The committee took a vote and decided six-to-one to retain The Lorax on the required reading list for second graders. Becky Harwood cast the lone dissenting vote. Buckley announced that the review committee’s vote would be forwarded to the Laytonville School Board, which was scheduled to meet on October 5, 1989 and would cast the final vote. [5] Considering that Bailey had seized a majority on the school board, the prospects for keeping the book on the required reading list looked dim. To be certain, Bailey’s associates and allies made sure that as many people as they could muster joined in the mob of Corporate Timber apologists sporting yellow ribbons.

Due to the book’s eerily prescient similarities to the real life enormous controversy surrounding the spotted owl, however, what might have seemed like an isolated, small town squabble became national news, and Laytonville became a symbol for the growing timber wars. The corporate press was always eager to exaggerate the differences between “yellows” and “greens”, never once suggesting that the actual source of the problem might be capitalism itself. They seemed most uninterested in the possibility that the real puppet master was neither a chainsaw salesman from Laytonville nor a children’s author somehow under the influence of a band of “unwashed-out-of-town-jobless-hippies-on-drugs” that didn’t even exist until a decade after his most controversial book was published. Corporate Timber, of course caught wind of the story and milked it for all it was worth, through the auspices of WECARE and their ilk. [6] Within less than a week, Laytonville, California, a small hamlet of just ten shy of a thousand at a bend in the road on Highway 101 in northern Mendocino County, which until then was little more than an afterthought except to those living there, became known nationally—and not without justification—as the town that tried to ban The Lorax and censor Dr. Seuss. [7]

Even Theodore Geisel, Dr Seuss himself, weighed in, declaring that the grownups embroiled in the battle were missing the point, further elaborating:

“Trees are used in this book as a symbol—the lousing up of nature. It’s about turning natural resources into crud. The leaves of the trees are used for making some silly commercial articles and the trees are thrown away. It’s purely (symbolic). I certainly am not against harvesting trees. I live in a wooden house and I’m sitting in a wooden chair. (My book is something) the rangers in Yosemite read to people around a campfire. It’s a general commentary about going easy on what we’ve got.” [8]

This prompted a response from Harwood Products owner and family patriarch Arthur “Bud” Harwood, who wrote an open letter to Dr. Seuss that was conciliatory, praising the author “for his wonderful children’s books”, but still lamented the division The Lorax had created within the community (never once accepting that perhaps it was Bill Bailey’s inability to overcome his heavily bruised ego and pride, and Corporate Timber’s exploitation of the outrage it caused, that had done that). [9]

Environmentalists weighed in on the controversy as well. North Coast Earth First!ers understandably saw the controversy as a referendum on them for many reasons, not the least of which included having been labeled “terrorists” by Bill Bailey in more than one of his paid advertisements. Laytonville Earth First!er Kathi Cloninger declared, “(The idea of removing the book from the required reading list), really upsets me…The Lorax is a huge controversy in Laytonville. Every time I go to town I see 10 to 15 yellow ribbons.” Judi Bari likewise stated, “The reason they are so afraid of this book is (because) it shows exactly what they are doing. They are taking the last of the redwood forest, just like the Trufula trees in The Lorax. I could show (the media) clear-cuts that look exactly like the pictures in the book.” [10]

Not all Laytonville wood products industry businessmen were as reactionary as Bailey, however. Bob Burgess, a furniture maker also based in the town, argued against banning the book, expressed appreciation for environmentalism, and pledged to only use wood from sustainable logging sources from that point on. [11]

Longtime resident Meredith A. Bliss wondered how her sleepy little village could have “generated more hullabaloo than cats in mating season” and wondered, “Whatever happened to good old common sense (and) our sense of humor?” [12]

* * * * *

To be fair, Laytonville was hardly an isolated example of rural timber dependent communities on the North Coast under pressure from Corporate Timber. While Laytonville was up in arms about Baily’s anti-Lorax crusade, the Redwood Empire Division of the League of California Cities (LOCC), whose territory covered much of northwestern California, including Humboldt and Mendocino Counties was passing a resolution affirming the “importance” of the timber industry to the region as well as the entire state of California and declaring that “preservation groups have used the court system to slow, and in some cases, halt timber harvesting creating an employment crisis in Northern California, potentially as severe as in the states of Oregon and Washington.” The resolution was introduced by Fortuna City Manager and Clerk Robert Brown, a supporter of TEAM and WECARE, and passed by six cities in favor (including Clearlake, Cloverdale, Eureka, Fortuna, Healdsburg, and Rohnert Park). Of the remainder present, only Arcata and Trinidad opposed the measure, while Willits abstained.[13]

The representatives of the cities that declined to support the measure did so openly chastising what they considered to be an obvious attempt by Corporate Timber to engage in a political witch hunt. Speaking for Trinidad, Bryce Kenny declared:

“I proposed a new ‘whereas clause’ but there was already a motion to consider the resolution on the floor. I wanted the clause to state that automation at the mills and export of raw logs also have an effect on the decline of the timber industry and the loss of jobs. Those are big factors.

All the blame should not be placed on the conservationists, environmentalists, and preservationists—whatever you want to call them. No one can deny the importance of the timber industry in the Northwest. Conservationists are a big factor, but I felt that if we were going to pass a resolution based on fact, then we should recognize all of the factors.” [14]

Speaking for Arcata, City Council member and LOCC representative Thea Gatt expressed similar reservations about the resolution, stating, “We felt we needed to support a balance between environmental and timber concerns.” While these were mildly courageous stands, even within their respective city governments, the representatives didn’t necessarily enjoy universal support. When questioned, Trinidad assistant City Clerk Yvonne Lewis indicated that the city council had not actually voted on the proposal, because it had not been brought before the body, and further suggested that Kenny was acting unilaterally. On the other hand, Willits City Manager Bill Van Orden voted to abstain, declaring that Willits took no position in the resolution, and added, “We felt the resolution as proposed didn’t deal directly with Mendocino County.” [15]

Mendocino County itself also had voted not to take a stand on the issue, in spite of heavy pressure. In this case, the push to pass a resolution against listing the owl as threatened came directly from L-P. Company forester Chris Rowney had appeared before the supervisors at their September 12 meeting and repeated the familiar Corporate Timber talking points that argued that owls had been “detected” in second growth timber stands. He was opposed by several environmentalists, including Betty Ball—who declared that spotted owls and old growth forests were biological issues, not political ones—and Meca Wawona who said that the resolution essentially would require the county to “pledge allegiance to the timber industry,” and industry that was “overeating” the forests. Surprisingly, the supervisors voted four-to-one, with only Marilyn Butcher dissenting against L-P. Nelson Redding’s voting with the majority was somewhat surprising, but not especially earth shattering, since the supervisors were essentially deciding not to make a decision. Evidently even those who found the courage to say “no” to Corporate Timber were compelled to walk on eggshells in doing so. [16]

They had ample reason to fear. If cities, counties, businesses, and publications didn’t go along with the program and toe the industry line, they were prone to being subjected to blacklists. For example, businesses that advertised in EcoNews had found themselves the target of a boycott ostensibly organized by Corporate Timber true believer, Diana Mendes the previous December. Mendes, a member of WECARE, had produced a letter warning local businesses of dire economic consequences should they continue to enable and support the environmentalists by advertising in the offending publication. This was presented as admonishment, but was really akin to a veiled threat. Though there was no hard evidence that she had coconspirators, it was unlikely that Mendes had acted alone. Those that wrote back to respond (angrily or otherwise) found that the post office box listed on the letters was fake. [17]

Although they claimed to have no knowledge of the effort, the boycott letters were widely circulated among numerous timber companies, trucking firms, and allied support businesses, and one company attached copies of the letter to the bonus checks mailed to its employees. WECARE denied connection to the effort, but its September newsletter included a list of the 47 businesses targeted by the effort, all of which were on the boycott list of the Western Wood Products Association. [18] Most businesses were angered by the blacklist, but at least one, the Arcata Co-op, temporarily buckled under to the pressure. [19] A few businesses, on the other hand, increased their contributions to EcoNews. [20]

Indeed, there was no shortage of dirty tricks directed at the NEC by Mendes and her ilk. In July, a bogus form letter, published on what appeared to be Northcoast Environmental Center stationary, apparently signed by director Tim McKay was circulated widely throughout the timber industry all over the North Coast. Although the letter was clearly a forgery, it wasn’t identified as such until November by the real McKay, well after the damage had been done. It was addressed to the “Friends of the Timber Industry,” and repeated all of and relished in the familiar Corporate Timber talking points that blamed the loss of timber jobs on unwashed-out-of-town-jobless-hippies-on-drugs concluding with a final paragraph which read:

“We hope that you are able to help us in our effort to stop logging, ranching, and fishing. PLEASE send a tax deductable donation to the CENTER as soon as possible, as I really need a raise. I look forward to working with you as soon as you are out of a job. Thank you for your ongoing support.” [21]

In all likelihood, this effort was also organized by WECARE, since it was sent to a good many of the members on their membership list, and, the dirty tricks didn’t stop at just threatening letters. Several NEC staffers received abusive and intimidating phone calls, including one whose family members were informed by an anonymous individual that they might want to consider increasing their life insurance premiums. This was not necessarily just an idle threat either, because another staffer’s car had its lug nuts loosened by an unknown perpetrator.[22]

The intimidation extended far beyond Laytonville or Arcata, though. Contributors to a recent fundraising effort by the ONRC received harassing letters saying that the organization was out to destroy that state’s economy by stopping all logging (something the ONRC had no intention of doing). Atlanta’s Turner Network Television (TNT) even felt the heat, because they cancelled the broadcast of a TV special produced by the Audubon Society called “Rage Over Trees,” after all eight of its sponsors, Citicorp, Exxon, Ford, New York Life insurance, Omni, Sears Roebuck, Stroh Brewery, and Time all pulled out after pressure from Corporate Timber, represented by its front group, the Western States Public Lands Coalition. [23] Given these currents, many believed that Laytonville would indeed vote to ban The Lorax. There was little doubt that the controversy over the spotted owl was at least partially related. [24]

* * * * *

The date of the school board meeting, where the decision would be made drew near. National media, including People Magazine and the Philadelphia Inquirer joined local press, television news, and radio broadcasters who gathered to cover the story [25], expecting to find the small rural community full of demagogues like Bill Bailey (or perhaps their caricature of Bill Bailey) or card carrying members of TEAM and WECARE. As it turned out however, the meeting, while interesting and full of fireworks, ultimately turned out to be anticlimactic. [26] Instead of an angry, reactionary mob, the 300 or so residents of Laytonville that showed up were committed to free speech, free expression, and democracy. [27]

For the first hour, speaker after speaker spoke their minds, and almost without exception they spoke against banning The Lorax. Marianne Loeser, president of the Long Valley Teachers’s Association, the union which represented the teachers in the district, read a statement to the board declaring, “Schools should not become a battleground for resolving complex problems that the schools did not create and that the (timber) industry cannot conceivably solve.” She indicated that the statement had been approved unanimously at a recent union meeting, held September 27, which had been attended by more than 82 percent of the entire membership. [28]

The aptly named Bill Haywood, who represented the California Teachers’ Association, the statewide union under which the LVTA participated, argued that the removal of the book would infringe upon the academic freedom of the district’s teachers and such action could not be allowed anywhere in the state of California. [29] He further questioned giving in to the demagoguery of a few wealthy businessmen.[30]

Kathi Cloninger admonished the board to listen to the teachers, saying, “I do not feel that one person (Bailey) has the right to censor what all the children learn. I feel the book is a useful tool to teach the value of conservation.” [31]

A logger pointed to his four children, noting that they “eat and sleep in a house paid for with timber dollars”, but who was nonetheless opposed to Bailey’s and Harwood’s attempts at censorship. [32]

At least one parent, Stu Greenberg, threatened to take his children out of the school if the board voted to ban The Lorax, cautioning the board, “not to be afraid of ideas, but instead to be afraid of taking away the freedom to discuss ideas.” [33]

It wasn’t until after the tenth person had spoken that an audience member spoke in favor of banning the book, claiming that “very many” in Laytonville found The Lorax offensive, though apparently not offensive enough to make their presence felt. [34] Another person in favor of removing the book from the list, high school student Tara Fristo, explained that she didn’t understand why the idea was controversial or the need for national media. [35]

In fact, Bill Bailey himself had not bothered to show, which was a wise decision, because his plan was about to fail miserably. Board President Bill Webster was opposed to removing the book from the required list, arguing that The Lorax expressed “a valid point of view”. [36] He added, “We are manipulating our children if we manipulate books. We are telling our children we don’t trust (them) to make their own decisions.” [37] He further went on to state, “I think the larger issue is who is teaching these kids, the Board or the teachers. The Lorax has been taught here for years without any damage. To tell teachers they can teach this book, but not that one, is like telling teachers to come into the forests and tell timber people they can cut this tree, but not that one.” [38] This statement drew a standing ovation from the crowd. [39]

Although Bailey had a majority on the board, it would fail him. Art Harwood was unfazed by the mostly pro Lorax testimony, at one point arguing that the book might be more appropriate for the Seventh Grade reading level, a suggestion that strained credibility and elicited at least one wag in the audience to sarcastically ponder the notion that Laytonville students were too dumb to read at the second grade level until the seventh—something that no doubt would have brought even more media scrutiny.[40] Harwood attempted to defend his ridiculous notion by arguing that Forestry students at the University of California were required to read The Lorax, as if that had any bearing on the matter at hand. [41]

The other board members were not as confident. Wilwand, conscious of and uncomfortable with the obvious perception that he was “a Bailey toady”, made the unbelievable and halfhearted argument that he was going to vote to ban the book “to support academic freedom rather than oppose it.” Judy Geiger, something of a moderate on most issues, except those dealing with the timber industry, argued that the mandated list should be obliterated altogether—which would have made things worse because, as one teacher later explained, “if we didn’t have a list, every time I assigned a book like The Lorax, I’d have parents (asking), ‘Why that book? Why couldn’t you have picked one of these less controversial books?’” [42]

At this point, Dan K’vaka, who had already spoken in favor of retaining the book suggested tabling the decision while Superintendent Buckley prepared a recommendation on whether or not to abolish the required list and replace it with a “suggested” reading list. [43] Apparently Bailey’s allies on the board didn’t want to be boxed into a corner and forced to admit that the issue was The Lorax itself and not the required list, because within seconds the board took a vote and unanimously agreed to K’vaka’s proposal (with the absent Bailey abstaining by default). [44]

Virtually everyone agreed that the board had made the correct decision. Even the normally conservative, pro-Corporate Timber Ukiah Daily Journal opined favorably, stating:

“The most important point of this entire issue is one which deals with our Constitutional rights and the First Amendment. Every time we hear of another book being attacked by a certain group for whatever reason—religious, moral, or any other—we cringe. Book banning (or burning in some extreme cases) has no place in a democracy. It has no place anywhere…

“We applaud the Laytonville school board and those who spoke at its meeting in support of free speech.”[45]

Bailey had lost, at least for the time being, but the issue just would not go away. Laytonville was irreversibly stuck with the reputation for being an intolerant town that tried to ban a children’s book, and no matter how much the Baileys tried to deny their campaign was about censorship, they had lost their credibility and had caused more damage to the timber industry (even the positive aspects of it). [46]

The champions of free thought and free speech had won, but more importantly, Corporate Timber, which had hoped to take advantage of the Corporate Media’s inaccurate portrayal of the situation as one of divisiveness between idealistic environmentalists and angry timber workers had been dealt a setback. Instead of a town angry at teachers and a principal brainwashed by “unwashed-out-of-town-jobless-hippies-on-drugs”, the public was instead presented with vocal and informed citizenry angry at the overbearing megalomaniacal delusions of a businessman and his attempts to buy control of the government. It was also evident that the Corporate Timber puppet masters were more than willing to exploit Bill Bailey and other Laytonvillians for their own ends, but they had greatly underestimated and miscalculated the rank and file citizenry’s ability to actually pay attention to the men behind the Redwood Curtain.

Still, there were always one or two who could be counted upon to howl about “politically correct fascism”, apparently blind to the fact that such a term most appropriately applied to Bill Bailey rather than those who questioned the hegemony of Eurocentric, laissez faire capitalism. [47] In December, Georgia Pacific spokesman Don Perry complained to the Mendocino County Board of Supervisors that the film On the Edge: Salmon and Steelhead contained “inaccuracies and didn’t represent a balanced view of timber harvest practices” and tried to have the board demand that the schools show a films presenting the local timber industry in a better light; the Supervisors voted against the proposal. [48] That same month, Bailey and Harwood were at it again, raising hell because a teacher actually allowed Darryl Cherney to perform live during one class; one wondered how they would have reacted had Earth First! protested an appearance in the same class by Bailey or Harwood. [49]

Ultimately some good came of all of the controversy. Judi Bari had attended the meeting in Laytonville and knew full well that perhaps Bill Bailey, and certainly Art Harwood, were not any more unapproachable than the Eel River Sawmill representatives with whom she and other Earth First! – IWW members had met earlier that year. Harwood was receptive and agreed to open up a line of dialog with Bari which would yield even bigger results in the upcoming months. [50]