This is the third and final installment of a three-part series on the efforts of two far East County towns to retain their heritage and remain rural and small in the face of regional growth and changing local politics. Part One: Coming of age in far East County Part Two: Emotion, commotion and the metamorphosis of two local MACs

The meetings could not have been much more different. In Byron, the new Municipal Advisory Council (MAC) members – Linnea Juarez, Al Beltran, Don Della Nina, Ron Schmit and Dennis Lopez – quickly appointed Juarez chair and Beltran vice chair. They got a rundown on county business from District III Supervisor Mary Nejedly Piepho, reports from police and the East Contra Costa Fire Protection District, and stopped the meeting briefly to file outside and inspect a new fire engine. In front of an attentive but mostly silent audience, the MAC talked briefly about meeting space, park dedication fees, code enforcement and the Brown Act, and was done.

Six days later and a few miles away, the new Knightsen Town Advisory Council (KTAC) members – Linda Weeks, Jack Burge, Chantel Tieman and Mike Walko (one seat remains unfilled) – picked Weeks as chair and Walko as vice chair. The agency reports and updates from Piepho ran about the same, but the crowd of about 100 was anything but sedentary. Before the evening ended, there were arguments, complaints, loud voices and an impromptu, near-unanimous show-of-hands vote to return things to the way they had been. Occasionally, shouts ricocheted around the room like shrapnel, but in the end, Roberts Rules of Order – and Weeks’ rubber mallet gavel – contained the passion, and business got done.

Battle of the boundaries

It was one particular piece of business that had packed both meetings – highly unusual for the two bodies, which typically meet in an otherwise empty room. Over the last two and a half years under the direction of Piepho and District V Supervisor Federal Glover, new policies and boundaries had been created for all the county’s advisory councils. The goal had been to standardize procedures and develop consistent boundary guidelines using roads, other established boundaries and geographic features.

The guidelines also called for “uninhabited or sparsely populated” areas to be excluded (unless development was expected) and for the boundaries to contain only “the community of interest for each MAC area.” The criteria, which had been the subject of a number of public and county staff meetings, resulted in both the Byron MAC and KTAC losing more than half of their area of representation. (The areas are still the largest physically of the 11 MACs, and have the lowest populations.)

Knightsen’s John Gonzales believes that the new guidelines are unfair. Knightsen, by its very nature, is sparsely populated, and a handful of families mean more to the 1,000 residents of his community than they do, for example, to the 21,000 people in Bay Point’s MAC. What’s more, the newly excluded wide-open spaces and marinas are at the very essence of their “community of interest.”

“That’s part of what Knightsen is: hunting, fishing, boating,” Gonzales said. “That’s been taken from us.”

Byron’s Kathy Leighton believes that by removing areas long identified with Byron from the MAC referral area, the town of Discovery Bay will find it that much easier some day – maybe 20 years from now – to annex the land and develop it. She believes it is a design pursued deliberately by Discovery Bay resident Piepho, and her husband David, who is a member of the Discovery Bay CSD Board of Directors.

Underlying cause

But while boundaries might have been the immediate reason for a sudden shortage of folding chairs in the two town halls, the underlying cause of the commotion stretches back for years. Residents of far East County had never seen their county representative elected from their area, and had endured decades of relative neglect before Piepho was elected in 2004 and re-elected in 2008.

Piepho’s first term had been fraught with challenges and learning experiences from the outset. In addition to a term on the Byron Union School District board, Piepho could draw on her experience on a cemetery district board and as a staff member for assemblypersons Lynne Leach and Guy Houston, as well as the tutelage and example of her late father, the iconic State Senator John Nejedly.

But she took her county seat without having put together an administration before, and the challenges of putting this one together were substantial. She received minimal transition help from her predecessor, was creating a far East County representation on the Board of Supervisors (BOS) that had never before existed, and had frequent turnover on her five-person staff at the outset. She hailed from Discovery Bay, a town that saw its first resident move in during the early 1970s and that had since ballooned to more than 16,000, thereby assuming the face of the suburban wolf at the doors of the tiny towns of Byron and Knightsen.

As Piepho worked to get her office up and running amid high expectations and shadows of suspicion, detractors began to find each other. A few dozen in number, they used blogs, e-mails and letters to newspapers to voice their criticism, and they laid it on heavily.

Liz Van Sandwyck is among the most virulent of Piepho’s opponents. With a resolute manner and a stern voice, she has found fault with virtually every move Piepho has made, or not made. Her conversation is peppered with comments such as “Show me one thing (Piepho) has done for Byron,” but one could argue that the examples are many. Piepho has initiated or helped secure new laws allowing wineries in Contra Costa, safety improvements on Vasco Road, traffic studies to improve traffic flow and pedestrian safety, roadway improvements on J4, and money for a study on building Highway 239, to list a few.

Facing forward

The key to that list, however, is the word “argue,” which opponents are wont to do. They downplay Piepho’s role in some of those accomplishments, and can quickly draw up a list of their own outlining her perceived shortcomings. For the past two years, the back-and-forth has grown in volume and ferocity, building into a communication-stifling cacophony of claims and counterclaims.

Linnea Juarez, the new chair of the Byron MAC, is dealing with a cacophony of a different kind. She sits at a small wooden table in the most remote part of the Wild Idol Saloon, but there’s no escaping the karaoke. It’s her first time visiting the tavern, which is located on Byron’s Main Street, next to the Library Club where a MAC meeting has just ended.

“I find it exciting” to represent her community, she yells over the din. “Everyone (on the MAC) has their own area of expertise, their own list of contacts. And the more people you have in your Rolodex, the more successful you’re going to be.”

The historic watering hole isn’t the only thing with which she’s unfamiliar. Most of the political histrionics have occurred while she was otherwise occupied with her career, and now that a schedule change has enabled her to contribute to her community, she’s not sure she’s interested in hearing it all.

“I don’t care about the fights that have gone before,” she said. Describing herself as “hard-nosed, stubborn and outspoken,” she scoffs at the suggestion that she might have been hand-picked by Piepho to do her bidding (all MAC terms expired when the new policies were enacted in December). “I’m not the right person to pick as a puppet, by any means,” she said.

Pose the same suggestion to Weeks and you’ll get a similar reaction. You’ll also hear a similar lack of interest in waging old wars: “I’ve got enough to do just handling right now.” The tasks include completing the current review of Knightsen’s boundaries, securing a historical designation for the Garden Club and enlisting the aid of other residents and former MAC members in moving the town into the future.

“We all have the same thing, an undying loyalty to Knightsen,” she said. “We have to take that, bind it all together and face forward.”

Guarded optimism

And there is much to look forward to. For despite the criticism and the clamor over Piepho’s experience, processes, treatment of people and alleged ulterior motives, the two towns find themselves with clear, consistent policies and boundaries for the first time, an energized populace attending MAC meetings, a cadre of new, enthusiastic representatives (who, despite earlier concerns about their loyalty, are now seen as independent community advocates), and an “old guard” that, although perhaps wary, continues to contribute the historical context the new panel’s need.

Leighton is one of those looking forward, albeit from a somewhat fatalist perspective. She sees that regional pressures and the demands of development already in place will continue to impact Byron, and that the will of the many will always outweigh that of the few. She knows that change will come to her home town, but she’ll continue to fight to save as much as possible for as long as possible. She’s not sure if her trust in Piepho can be restored, but with signs of improved communication already in place (for example, regular meetings involving all the MACs have been restored), she’s hopeful of an improved working relationship.

Gonzales remains suspicious as well, although the fact that it’s of Piepho is of less importance. Whether its the BOS, the City of Oakley or any other agency, he’ll mount the same energetic defense he mounts any time he believes his home town is being threatened. He’ll spend even more energy proactively, be it putting together town calendars, organizing the annual Knightsen Days event or helping man the bins on community trash day. As for his admittedly “rocky relationship” with Piepho, that can be fixed.

“I want to see something tangible that we can see is the direct result of her leadership,” he said. The fact that funding had been identified to repair the town’s sidewalks isn’t enough. “I want to see some concrete. I want to actually be able to put my hands on something. And I will help all I can to get things done.”

Beyond the horizon

Piepho, too, is looking to the future, and her perspective is that of a pragmatist. She does not expect the attacks of a few constituents to stop, and vows to continue doing her job regardless. In addition to her duties in far East County, there’s a financial crisis and other critical county issues to deal with, as well as her responsibilities to constituents in Walnut Creek, Alamo, Danville, San Ramon, Diablo, Brentwood, Blackhawk and the Tassajara Valley. She has recently been named the representative of the five-county Delta region in talks about the newly resurfaced Peripheral Canal, a plan to increase water exports to Southern California that her father helped defeat in the 1980s.

Overlaying the many practical matters are numerous intangibles that have helped lead to the current situation: Piepho’s initial inexperience, her methodology that left some feeling ignored, and the consideration of regional needs that conflict with local desires. For the residents of Byron and Knightsen, there’s an entrenched defensive posture, their use of tactics sometimes seen as personal and destructive, and a measure of stubbornness and impatience. And impacting both are the area’s tremendous needs, a lack of money to address them, and frustration with the other side.

Perhaps it will be in overcoming the obstacle of the past that will mark a coming of age in far East County. For the towns, there is the possibility that their legacy will one day be that of the communities that stood battling on the front lines when the sprawl of development was arrested, and the world went green, like they are. For Piepho, there is the prospect that she could one day be seen as a rookie administrator beset with challenges who became an adept leader seasoned by experience and withering fire from her critics.

Whether either scenario will ultimately play out is yet to be seen, but at least one thing is certain: The high expectations that helped lead to the present situation have not diminished, and will grow only higher as the future unfolds.