by Laszlo Bartus, Amerikai Népszava | Posted July 1, 2025
A photo posted on the official X page of the US Department of Homeland Security depicting ‘Alligator Alcatraz,’ a new immigrant detention facility located in Florida’s Everglades National Park. photo courtesy of American Community Media.
It is no secret that Donald Trump has a reputation for cruelty. In that vein, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis could not have come up with a more pleasing gift than a prison for undocumented immigrants located in the Everglades National Park.
Let’s be clear, Alligator Alcatraz—as the prison has been dubbed—is set to become the most inhumane prison in the world.
The Everglades National Park is a vast swamp stretching between Florida’s east and west coasts. It is teeming with massive pythons, alligators, swarms of mosquitos, and panthers. Summer temperatures regularly top the triple digits.
The idea is that, like San Francisco’s notorious Alcatraz, escape from this new dungeon in the swamp will be impossible, and that anyone who tries to leave will be immediately devoured by wild animals or otherwise succumb to the elements.read more
Collier, Chico's first hardware store, to close at end of month
by Karen Laslo | Posted March 8, 2025
photo by Karen Laslo
Matt Lucena, one of the brother owners, behind the Collier Hardware counter.
As I crossed the street to park my bike in its usual spot in front of the store on a recent afternoon, I saw the big sign in the window: “Store Closing Sale.”
From our house in the Avenues, Collier Hardware was just a short bike ride downtown. I looked forward to my jaunt to the venerable 154-year-old store. My routine was I’d park my bike conveniently in front of the store, go in and look around to see what was new, find the item I needed, make my purchase and ride home. I confess that I felt a little smug knowing that I hadn’t contributed to the climate crisis by driving my car downtown.
Over the past 28 years, since we’ve lived in Chico, Collier has been the store I’d go to for such items as light bulbs, dish towels, nails, screws, work gloves, flashlight batteries or one of their big, red leaf rakes.
Collier Hardware has been owned and operated by the Lucena family since 1971. When I learned that the store was going to close, I asked Matt Lucena, one of the three brothers who owns the store, why they were closing. He replied, “The store is losing money.”
I felt sad knowing that Chico was going to lose, like so many other towns across our country, one of its iconic, charming old downtown stores. I resented the fact that people are shopping more and more on-line or driving way across town to one of the big box stores to make their purchases.
Before I left, I made one final Collier Hardware purchase, and, even though I didn’t need it, I bought their last big red rake.
Karen Laslo is a freelance contributor to ChicoSol.
Understanding better the Chinese tradition that was part of my childhood
by Yucheng Tang | Posted November 13, 2024
photo by Yucheng Tang
Folkloric dancers recently celebrated a lively and colorful Day of the Dead at Meriam Park.
How can a day that’s about death feel like a huge party?
When I joined the crowd at The Barn at Meriam Park for a Nov. 2 celebration of Day of the Dead — a Mexican tradition called Día de los Muertos in Spanish — I didn’t expect it to lead me to reconsideration of a Chinese festival, Tomb Sweeping Day, that was part of my own childhood.
Latin music played loudly in the background. On stage, children whose faces were painted like skeletons danced and sang joyfully. Next to the stage stood a community altar, adorned with photos of deceased loved ones, candles, and marigolds — the flower that is believed to guide spirits back home.
Nearby, a table offered marigold-shaped stickers where attendees could write the names of their departed loved ones as well as messages for them.
I wrote down my grandfathers’ names and the words, “I miss you.” They have both passed away, one in 2016, the other in 2022.
My paternal grandpa’s name is Yongchao, meaning “permanent wave” in Mandarin. When I was in primary school, I liked to pretend that I was a teacher and I was teaching Yongchao how to write journals and recite poems. Yongchao always cooperated with me, spending hours listening to my class attentively and finishing the homework I assigned.
My maternal grandpa’s name is Huanhua, which means “brighten China.” He was a dancer, and people always said I inherited his artistic talent. Years of dance training gave him perfect posture — he always stood upright and couldn’t resist dancing whenever music played.
Thinking of them brought tears to my eyes, but my sadness was soon interrupted by the lively music, performances, and the beautifully decorated skulls surrounding me. Skulls, often considered terrifying in China, had become a symbol of death and rebirth here. I even bought a sugar skull that can be painted with edible paint and a small brush.
I could not help but think about a similar festival back in my hometown across the Pacific: Tomb Sweeping Day.
In China, everyone returns to their hometown in early April to honor their deceased relatives and ancestors. Family members visit the graves in the springtime, clean the tombs, make food offerings and remember the deceased.
After learning about Day of the Dead, I was surprised by how similar the two festivals are. Just as people celebrating Day of the Dead will leave the favorite dishes of their late loved ones out, we place chopsticks, plates and bowls filled with food and alcohol in front of the tombs. The belief is that our loved ones will return to enjoy the offerings.
My grandmother would mutter a series of prayers, asking them to bless our family with luck and fortune. The atmosphere was always serious and solemn. Sometimes, a mischievous child, unaware of the rules, would sneak food from the plate while my grandmother was still praying. This was considered a disrespect to ancestors, and the child would be sternly scolded, withdrawing their small, guilty hands.
We would keep refilling the plates and cups, assuming our ancestors were consuming the offerings. To avoid overflowing the cups, we would pour only a little alcohol at first, saving room for more. As a child, I always found this scene funny and even ridiculous, not understanding the spiritual significance.
My memories of Tomb Sweeping Day are mostly shrouded in sadness, under dark skies and constant rain. Chinese poetry often captures this melancholy. One famous poem, recited by nearly every Chinese person, goes: “A drizzling rain falls on Tomb Sweeping Day; the travelers on the road look like lost souls.” The poem sounds even more depressing in Mandarin.
We burned “paper money” – the beige papers that represent the currency our ancestors need in the afterlife – and hoped our departed relatives would have enough money to spend there. I didn’t like this part; the black smoke smelled bad, stung my eyes, and caused them to water. The world around me felt like it was caught in a vast, dark whirlpool.
Justina Sotelo, a vendor I met at the event, painted an orange monarch butterfly – the “butterfly of immigration” – on her face, and wore wings on her back.
“There is sadness about Day of the Dead,” she said. “But that’s not the focal point. The idea is that there is a celebration, there’s this acknowledgment of death, there’s this recognition of death.”
Celebration? I never thought of Tomb Sweeping Day in those terms. I never thought it could be as joyful as Day of the Dead. But as I reflected and pushed myself to ponder on it after hearing what Sotelo said, I recalled moments of laughter and joy from our festivities.
As an only child, I often felt lonely while growing up, but during the festival, I looked forward to spending time with my cousins. My great-grandparents’ tombs were on a small mountain near a creek. After paying our respects, the whole family would gather by the creek, set up a grill, and barbecue. Adults prepared food, children splashed in the cool water. The adults would gossip and share stories, some of them about the deceased and some about the living. The air was filled with chatter, laughter, and the aroma of delicious food.
The dishes we brought were always special. Qingtuan, a jade-colored Chinese dumpling made of glutinous rice mixed with Chinese mugwort, was a must-have. It usually has two flavors, sweet and savory. I was a big fan of sweet Qingtuan, whose filling is made of red beans, but gradually became more into the savory version as I grew up.
Stir-fried snails were another staple. Family members would often debate whose recipe was best, and the winner would be tasked with cooking them the following year. My youngest aunt was always the winner, and apparently, she was proud of that.
I wondered: Isn’t cherishing time with loved ones and enjoying delicious food a form of celebration? I think one of my grandfather’s wishes would have been to see his family happy, even after his passing.
“There’s a normalcy in recognizing they’re gone but still with us,” Sotelo had told me. “It helps us understand death and how loved ones live on through our practices, stories, and memories.”
Her words resonated with me. After our loved ones pass away, we must move forward, but we also need to carry them with us in our heart or memories; it’s a journey of internalization. It’s a process, with the tension between forgetting and remembering.
I would not say the Day of the Dead changed my attitude toward death, but its seemingly exaggerated forms of celebration provided me with an opportunity to rediscover Tomb Sweeping Day, a tradition that I belong to and is deeply rooted in my heritage.
For example, adding alcohol to a cup no one drinks from isn’t ridiculous anymore — it’s a tradition, practice and story that helps us feel connected to those we’ve lost. For example, Tomb Sweeping Day wasn’t all about heavy sadness; there was joy and celebration, too.
Perhaps I never truly understood the essence of the festival as a child. Perhaps I’m only recently beginning to grasp what it means to grieve and honor the past.
Before leaving the Barn, another vendor, Justin Stier, said that when he came to Chico 20 years ago, there were not many people outside the Spanish-speaking community celebrating Day of the Dead, but it has become more and more popular. I guess it might take more time and a larger community to make Tomb Sweeping Day more popular and well-known on this continent.
The marigold-shaped sticker I wrote on during the event now sits in the corner of my work desk. As I gaze at the gray sky outside my apartment window, I wonder: Does that other world also have national borders and cultural divisions? Guided by the marigold, could my Chinese grandfathers, Yongchao and Huanhua, find their way to my new home in California — a place they never could have imagined — to visit me?
I miss them.
Yucheng Tang is a California Local News Fellow reporting for ChicoSol. Growing up, Yucheng spent much of his time with his grandparents in China and says Chico reminds him of his hometown.
I would give myself an A plus.
Nobody has done what I’ve been able to do.
–Donald Trump
Grade school mornings
we faced the flag,
hands over hearts,
pride of a nation pulsing inside us.
We compared report cards,
took cuts in line at recess,
played dodgeball in the thin Oakland fog.
Across town and on TV,
dark people got dragged away in handcuffs.
If we saw a drunk collapsed on the street,
we were told not to stare.
People dreamed of getting rich.
Years later, we heard about other countries.
Epidemics, famine, hospitals bombed.
Our kids pleaded for Happy Meals
while foreign children covered with flies
slumped in the dirt.
Thank God we lived in America.
Now, upset by massacres
where we learn, dance, shop and pray,
we face our flat screens,
flip through channels,
and recall a man with jutted chin
shouting to the cheering crowd.
I could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue
and shoot somebody
and I wouldn’t lose voters.
Flags wave in the hot wind.
Our doors are locked.
Junkies crouch on streets
like a row of dark question marks.
One nation,
indivisible.
Danielle Alexich is a retired educator who loves family, dogs, culture and the outdoors. She hopes the experiences she shares in her writing speak to others.
Testimony from ‘cottage industry of exoneration’ aided Chico police
by Dave Waddell | Posted October 29, 2024
Matt Stroud’s book
The pain of the taser was “searing … like a baseball bat swung hard and squarely into the small of your back. That sensation, which is actually two sharp steel barbs piercing your skin and shooting electricity into your central nervous system, is followed by the harshest, most violent spasm you can imagine coursing through your entire body.” – Journalist Matt Stroud in his book “Thin Blue Lie.”
SACRAMENTO — Three years ago, the New York Times published a deeply reported story on how paid experts help exonerate police in killing cases. This month, that “cottage industry of exoneration,” including one expert who has made a fortune minimizing the dangers of tasers, operated at full gear on the 15th floor of the Robert T. Matsui Federal Courthouse.
Several experts with long and lucrative ties to that exoneration industry testified in support of Chico police in a civil suit brought by the parents of Tyler Rushing. After an eight-day trial in the U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of California, an eight-person jury decided Oct. 17 that officer Alex Fliehr did not use excessive force when he tased the thrice-shot, motionless Rushing in 2017.
Chico Police Chief Billy Aldridge declined to comment on the verdict. The City recently released — under pressure of a court order — this PowerPoint analysis of Rushing’s killing.
The N.Y. Times story reported that critics of the exoneration consultants accuse them of “slanting science, ignoring inconvenient facts and dangerously emboldening police officers to act aggressively.”
Multiple experts testifying at the Rushing trial have deep ties to Force Science Institute, which has promoted some dubious research conclusions, according to Seth Stoughton, an ex-cop, professor of law at the University of South Carolina, and one of the nation’s foremost experts on police uses of force.
“Force Science research is not very highly regarded by most traditional academic researchers,” Stoughton said in 2021 while discussing the Chico police killing of Stephen Vest. “It is very well regarded with police … because it almost always works to the benefit of the officers.”
Even though Chico PD policy describes the pain from a taser stun gun as “intense,” a softer phrase was oft repeated by police at the Rushing trial: “momentary discomfort.” Chico officer Jeremy Gagnebin, who observed Rushing’s tasing, testified to being tased before he became a cop, claiming the pain was not that big of a deal.
“It essentially immobilizes you,” Gagnebin told the court. “Will lock up all of your muscles. … I would not say that it’s a pain. I will just say it’s uncomfortable. … Five seconds of just being uncomfortable and not being able to move.”
Stoughton, the police practices expert, said Gagnebin is wrong — as a matter of law.
“(Tasers) are quite painful,” Stoughton said. “The electrical discharge is intensely painful and typically causes burn-like pain and swelling at the point of contact, in addition to the puncture injuries from the barbed darts.”
The U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit has determined that a taser “inflicts a painful and frightening blow” and causes “excruciating pain,” said Stoughton, adding that other circuit courts have made similar statements.
In his 2019 book “Thin Blue Lie: The Failure of High-Tech Policing,” journalist Matt Stroud described his tasing as a sensation of “Needles everywhere, overwhelming you. … You lose control of almost everything and the only place you can go is down, face first to the floor. The whole thing lasted five seconds – but it felt like an eternity.”
“Taking a ride”
But jurors at the Rushing trial got a very different story from officers Gagnebin, Fliehr and Cedric Schwyzer, as well as from expert defense witness Mark Kroll. In his testimony, Kroll, who has a Ph.D. in electrical engineering but is not a medical doctor, continually minimized the pain of a taser.
In 2021, Stoughton testified as an expert witness for the prosecution at the trial of Derek Chauvin, George Floyd’s murderer. Kroll did not testify at the Chauvin trial, but Kroll’s research was cited by a defense witness “as proof that putting body weight on someone facedown does not cause asphyxia,” according to the N.Y. Times story.
Kroll testifies frequently. In fact, in his Rushing case testimony, he blurted out that Tyler had been under the influence of methamphetamine when tased. The falsehood brought his testimony briefly to a halt, with the judge telling the jury Kroll was “totally mistaken.” Kroll apologized, saying he mixed up his cases.
Clad in bow tie, Kroll turned chatty with the jury at times, claiming that muscle stimulators “to get your six-pack going” deliver more electrical current than tasers.
“You really feel that,” Kroll said of the stimulators. “I’ve tried them. I don’t like them at all.”
One of the Rushings’ attorneys, Robert Chalfant, pressed Kroll on his ties to Axon Enterprise Inc., the company that provides ever-evolving models of tasers and body-worn cameras to law enforcement agencies. Kroll previously headed up Axon’s scientific and medical advisory board.
Chalfant: And am I correct that for that job you were paid approximately $267,000 per year from Axon?
Kroll: I’ll take your word for it. I’m sure you’re reading off the printout.
Chalfant: Is it true you currently own $1 million worth of Axon stock?
Kroll: It’s probably more than that. … When I first started advising them … they paid me in stock, and since then it’s become extremely valuable … It was a windfall, but I don’t think I need to apologize for it …
It wasn’t Kroll’s first such windfall, according to Stroud’s book.
In 2004, after “elbowing” his way to becoming Axon’s top science adviser, Kroll made about $2.8 million from the company’s stock, Stroud reported. Indeed, it was Kroll’s credentials and research that Axon has used for decades to downplay taser dangers, his critics contend.
When interviewed by investigators after the Rushing tasing, Fliehr described his taser shot as giving Rushing “a ride.” In his closing argument to the jury, plaintiff’s attorney Mark Merin said Fliehr’s “jargon is repulsive.”
It’s also common language promoted at Axon headquarters, where Stroud said he was encouraged “to take a ride,” resulting in the description of his painful experience quoted above.
When tased, Rushing was jolted noticeably from his semi-prone position. That Tyler might have been dead or near-death and not felt the taser’s pain did not lessen the “cruelty” of Fliehr’s act, argued attorney Merin.
Desmond Phillips, who was shot dead by Chico police four months before Rushing’s killing, could first be heard on a 911 call moaning from the lash of a taser. Seconds later, Fliehr and Gagnebin unleashed a barrage of bullets from their Glocks, killing Phillips, a 25-year-old Black man in mental crisis.
Dave Waddell is a contributing writer to ChicoSol who is working on a book about Butte County law enforcement killings.
Legislation likely to produce "dangerous overreach"
by Emily Alma | Posted June 18, 2024
Emily Alma
Israel’s cruel and disproportionate response to the Oct. 7 Hamas attacks has elicited world-wide outcry, public horror at their actions, eclipsing our horror at the cruel Hamas actions against Israelis.
On the home front, popular uprisings continue unabated, spreading from action in the streets to union halls to university campuses to government employees resigning, to elected representatives in Congress – all demanding an end to hostilities, demanding an end to Israel’s use of starvation as a weapon of war, demanding an end to the flow of U.S. arms to Israel, demanding divestment from companies profiting from Israel’s war, demanding a permanent ceasefire and justice for Palestine.
The popular uprisings underway came after Israel’s immediate response to the Hamas attack: A brutal assault on all Palestinians in Gaza, immediately cutting off food, water and power to millions, bombing apartment buildings, on and on – unrelenting and escalating day by day, month by month.
But in response to the uprising, a dangerous precedent is being set: Accusations of antisemitism abound against those who oppose Israel’s war on Palestinians, resulting in severe restrictions to freedom of speech and freedom of assembly, our First Amendment rights, the foundation of our democracy.
From the beginning of the uprising, those in power – law enforcement, boards of directors, university presidents, academic senates – have accused the protestors of antisemitism because of their nonviolent demonstrations against Israel’s brutal war. Nonviolent protestors, in the name of stopping antisemitism, have been summarily stopped, arrested, beaten, denied graduation, fired from their jobs, vilified, refused their right to freedom of speech and freedom of assembly.
I am Jewish; my grandparents immigrated to this country escaping pogroms. Aware of antisemitism as a child who was taunted for being Jewish, my parents assured me and my siblings that “we are as good as anyone else” and to believe in justice and fair treatment to all. I am among the Jews who feel a deep comradeship with my Palestinian brothers and sisters. The hateful chant, “Jews will not replace us” from the Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville, August 2017, still rings inside me with horror.
True antisemitism must be stopped in every way possible; it is filled with hatred and leads to terrible violence against innocent people. I fear that the accusation of antisemitism for any criticism of Israeli actions has the effect of increasing sentiments of true antisemitism, which endangers the lives of Jews. I am frightened that a majority of our elected officials in Congress, including many Democrats who are Jews, have embraced this cruel distortion, and particularly that they justify Israel’s violence against innocent Palestinians on the basis of that distortion.
In the halls of Congress, two bills are working their way toward approval with bipartisan support. If passed, the bills could silence and censor the thousands of students and many others who actively oppose Israel’s actions, construing these nonviolent protests for peace and justice as antisemitic.
On their face these appear to be bills designed to protect Jewish people from the cruel discrimination we have experienced over centuries of history. However, with the current accusations of antisemitism being so distorted, these bills are likely to be employed as dangerous overreach.
H.R. 6090 – the Antisemitism Awareness Act This legislation would direct the Department of Education to apply the working definition of antisemitism as established by the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA). This bill was approved on May 1 by the House with bi-partisan support. Many Democrats as well as our congressman Doug LaMalfa (R-Richvale) voted in its favor.
S. 4091 – the Countering Antisemitism Act
Introduced on April 9, S.4091 is described as “a bill to strengthen Federal efforts to counter antisemitism in the United States.” It has bi-partisan co-sponsorship.
Defining Antisemitism:
In 2010, the U.S. State Department adopted the IHRA’s definition of antisemitism, which states: “Antisemitism is a certain perception of Jews, which may be expressed as hatred toward Jews. … … Manifestations might include the targeting of the state of Israel, conceived as a Jewish collectivity. However, criticism of Israel similar to that leveled against any other country cannot be regarded as antisemitic. …”
This definition has now been adopted broadly by U.S. government entities. However, note the italicized portion of the IHRA definition (italics mine). With the claim of antisemitism in the current crackdown on peaceful demonstrations supporting Palestinians, it seems that in practice the second sentence is being ignored, and the first widened to include criticism of Israel in any form.
Israel is a political entity, a nation; criticizing actions of the state of Israel is no different than criticizing the actions of China, Iran, Russia, or the USA. The myth that opposition to any action of Israel is antisemitic is a political lightning rod designed to silence dissent and frighten politicians and citizens who stand up for human rights.
Labeling opposition to Israeli actions as antisemitism cheapens the real antisemitism that is a dangerous, and sadly, a growing reality in our world today.
It is of utmost importance that our president, senators and congressional representatives hear from us. If you feel as I do, I urge you to communicate with them that you abhor true antisemitism, and absolutely reject this dangerous distortion of the meaning of antisemitism as a threat to our democracy.
Emily Alma of Chico has been a human rights activist since joining the civil rights movement in 1961.
