A trip to Fresno's Heart - A photo essay with words.

The Coyle Fderal Court House, a towering presence in downtown Fresno

This missive was written in a three hour period, on the same day that many CVTP members had hand carried letters of protest to our representatives offices. What I saw through the lens of the camera moved and disturbed me, and I had to write my feelings out so I could find rest. I hope that my words can convey my feelings, and that all who see the pictures will see the irony of what downtown Fresno has become, and the glory of what it once was and could be again. And yes, my tears ran down my face as I wrote ...

I remember Downtown Fresno during the glory days of the 1960's, the decline of the '70s & '80's, and the decades of neglect and Governmental "studies" that have followed. It is with memory of a proud Downtown and hope that a truly sane policy to attract new life to Downtown as a whole, that prompts my words. And yes, the new Federal Court House is a plush building, but why build a Peoples Palace when there are already so many empty buildings Downtown?

For those who aren't native Fresnans, and never saw the glory days of the Fulton Mall, The "Old" Courthouse, and the "All American City" that Fresno was, I offer a few links:

Pop Laval - American Heritage Magazine - Fresno's Great Historical Photographer

The Pop Laval Foundation Collection - Central Valley History, Historic Photographs
Just coming online, but there's a neat slide show on the splash page.

KMPH Fox 26 - Elizabeth Laval, Pop's Grandaughter, with photos from the Pop Laval Collection

The Cultural Landscape Foundation - Fulton Mall

The Downtown Association of Fresno - Fulton Mall Public Art Tour
A great look at Downtown, the Fulton Mall, and one of the best Fresno sites

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I couldn't make it downtown before 3 pm, but I really must say, I was quite impressed by the "Peoples Palace" that our 'Representative Republic's' bureaucrats had built for "us."
I was impressed by the sheer size of the building I now think of as "Edifice Rex." The Coyle District Courthouse simply oozes "massive." It's so massive that it could easily be mistaken for a County Jail, were it not for the luxury materials used in its construction, and the enormous atrium entrance. Just looking up into the hardwood architectural feature 60 feet above my head made me feel appropriately small, being a mere Citizen.

The Boxer Memorial Fountains, across from Edifice Rex

The Boxer Memorial Fountains, side view.

The security fellows were polite & gregarious. They even laughed politely when I made my usual comment about how "change was all I had left" in my pockets, as they ran me through the metal detector. They also smiled wryly as I said I had letters to deliver to our Senators. I'm sure that they'd seen many Tea Party folk come through their doors this day.

Politically incorrect?

The hush was palpable as I proceeded to the corner offices that are occupied by our Senators ... or would be, if they actually came to Fresno for more than "whistle-stop" campaign appearances. They won't be scheduling any "Town Halls" here anytime soon, I'm sure.

Looking out the panoramic windows, the view of the Valley beyond was lovely, and I knew that from the northwest corner offices their staffs occupy, if the Senators did visit their "offices" in Fresno, they'd have a lovely view. I sincerely wished that I'd had my camera, but that's forbidden for mere Citizens in the Peoples Palace, "Edifice Rex."

Approaching Sen. Feinstein's office, I could see that it was well lit and appeared to be open. I suppose that the nice lady within (the sole occupant of the time) must have had a dentist appointment that morning, for her wry smile (there's lots of that on the few faces that I saw around the "Edifice") was perfect. Her cordial yet hurried attitude seemed as practiced as the "salesman's smile" I returned to her.
"Just a constituent with a letter for the Senator," I boomed out, and she seemed relieved. "Have a nice weekend" I said as I handed her the letters from myself & my sweetheart. "You too," she said, and truly seemed to mean it.

Senators enjoy these corner offices ... IF they ever come here, that is.

Senator "Ma'am" Boxer's office was one floor up, with the same "prime real estate" view, but was less friendly from the very start. Rather than a cheery windowed door, invitingly lit, it was solid oak with a prominent lock. Upon opening that formidable door, a nice lady with a "thin" smile seemed to know why I was there, and spared me the luxury of her voice. My niceties were not returned.

In my short time in this building which, had it been less fortress-like in construction, would have qualified as echoingly empty, I saw a grand total of 9 persons. That included the nice security men.

As I exited the premises and proceeded back to the car for my camera, I noticed the friendly door of the IRS office, in the very shadow of "Edifice Rex." Quite convenient for the collection agents and lawyers, I suppose. Upon collecting my camera from the trunk of the car, I proceeded to take advantage of the rare opportunity to walk around and take photos of buildings.

One of downtown Fresno's livelier denizens ...

Downtown seemed far too quiet this Friday afternoon, as if it had become tired. The Employment Development office, while still featuring the lovely mural with the 'doves of peace,' was silent. "Furlough day?", I mused.

Just a hope from the past?

Embracing, or wrestling?

Passing northward, I took several shots of the '60s vintage statuary, then approached the Water Tower, across from the Memorial Auditorium / Legion of Valor.

Standing in the shadow of the past, contemplating the future.

The Memorial Auditorium & Legion of Valor Museum

The Water Tower & Visitor Center

Time for more than photos wasn't in the cards for today and I quickly circled the Tower, and sadly saw that the Visitors Center was closed.

Look closely and you'll see how history is honored today.

And, above the sign announcing the Center, someone had taken the time to break the "porthole" window in the Tower. It wasn't the only one broken.

Is there no respect for history?

Looking closely, the bricks in the cistern of the Tower could be seen where glass once had been. The Tower, though painted in recent years, bore weather streaks. Its flanks seemed dirtied and forlorn.

In memory of valiant service.

Walking away, I looked down and saw, to my dismay, that someone had, in idle maliciousness, taken the time and effort to unscrew a sprinkler head and carefully place it beside a now growing hole. I'm sure that the resulting fountain was quite majestic, and perhaps a convenient shower for (and hopefully, only for) birds & squirrels.

"Recycling" at its best?

I passed what used to be the Federal Building, now relegated to becoming the "new" Superior Court Annex. Too small, plain and old, it had been superseded by "Edifice Rex." I thought this building had a friendlier character, fittingly so, for a more hopeful time.

The past becoming the future?

Outside in the courtyard to the south, the significant sculpture (by Miro, if I remember correctly) of multi-colored humans embracing (or wrestling?) sat in a disturbingly empty fountain, with only the merest of puddles at the bottom of the pool.

Reminders of a more hopeful past, standing seemingly alone ...

Around the base of the concrete pool perimeter were the collected belongings of several "street personnel." Rather than the confrontational attitudes that so many of the "homeless" (sic) of northern Fresno display as they cadge & cudgel the guilty for donations, these few folk seemed simply hot, quiet & tired.
The calm and slightly cooler than normal August weather combined with the uncharacteristically sleepy mall to make us comfortable with each other. My camera seemed to bring them closer, rather than drive them away. I nodded to one gentleman standing in the shade, and said "How are you, sir?"

"Fine, and you?" he replied. I smiled and said I was well.
"What's up today?" He asked.
"Just taking pictures of the dry fountains," I replied. "I'm with the Tea Party, and the Water Coalition."
The gentleman gave me a small smile, and stuck out his hand. "Good!" he said. "We need water, don't we?"
"That we do, sir ... That we do," was my reply, "may I include you in my picture?"

A proud Fresnan stands next to his 'mobile home' ...

He readily acceded to my request, standing in the shadow beside his grocery carts and belongings. As I lowered my camera, a lady quietly approached and asked him for water. As I gave him my heartfelt thanks, he reached for his canteen and gave it to his friend. She drank deeply, as we smiled and parted.

I nearly cried as I walked away, for the dried up fountain seemed as forlorn as those quiet street folk. What would happen to our city, if we did not win our fight for water? Was their fate to be ours, too?

Fresno City Hall, the "Klingon Deathship."

Turning to the east, I continued through the Mariposa Mall, and to the City Hall. We call it "the Klingon Deathship," an odd structure for our otherwise calm downtown architecture. Blued & brushed steel and glass, it was designed with a majestic fountain, dedicated to the Cobb family. The fountain was also dry, bone dry.
As I took a picture of the Hall, irony struck again. My photo was "ruined" by a passing pickup, which escaped my shutter. However, I did catch the boat it towed, just coming past the dried up fountain.

"Sorry, there's no water in the pond!"

The Cobb Family Memorial Fountain at Fresno City Hall

'WARNING: Dangerous when DRY!"

As I studied the steel & glass, I looked up at the flags that drooped in the August heat. America, California and Fresno were all represented.

"Liberty and Justice for all?"

As the wind suddenly rose, the flags stood taught, and I noticed one I'd not seen before. A flag of black, with silver image and letters, flying below the Stars & Strips. "POW-MIA" the legend read. Would we truly be forgotten too, as our national "leaders" seem to have forgotten those lost souls we still remember out here in 'fly-over country?'

"No," I told myself, "we will not allow that. We will not fall silent, nor will we any longer bargain away our freedoms. We choose to do 'the Hard Thing,' to stand and raise our voices. We choose to fight those who would require more and more tribute to their coffers, to raise our righteous voices against those who claim to 'know' that their paths of destruction are really "all our fault."

Continuing on over the high walkway leading to the Council Chambers, I walked up to the brushed steel of the 'strut' of the Hall. Still and quiet in what should have been a bustling City center, it stood and shone back at me.

And before it, planted as an afterthought in the concrete at its feet, stood a white-painted iron "bumper" pole, rust dripping down its painted surface. A metaphor, so it seemed, for our very Government.

'"Starkly metaphorical," or is it just me?

I looked up at the trees with their seed pods swinging, the sunshine reflecting russet from the husks.
Nature still knew its way, and we will find ours.


As I turned and walked back toward my parking place at the Amtrak station, I noticed another walker approach. As his eyes met mine, we both nodded a silent greeting. Passing me at a less leisurely pace than mine, I noticed his fashion statement.

"Too much information?"

A moment after I captured his style cue, he looked about as if he felt my camera and yanked up his jeans, which immediately gave way once again. Oh well, I mused, one should always leave room for growth!

"One size fits all?"

The train station was relatively busy, having received a load of passengers a few moments prior. I stopped to take a few photos, and to look at the station building which had served for the long years that the historic station was being renovated. Funds had been few and sporadic, and it had taken a long time to complete.

"Your tax dollars at work ... Yeaaaaah ... Riiiiight ... Government pointing the way?

The traffic signs in front seemed a portent for the times in our town and country, and the "Fresno" sign, paint faded and pealing, seemed to ache for better days on the freshly painted wall.

The tracks seemed to lead away from, not toward our quiet downtown, even as people ran for cabs. The hurry was to the baseball stadium for the Dillon, Melencamp, & Willie Nelson concert, "concert of the year" according to the radio announcements.

Bread & Bailiffs!

Looking about, I realized the time and snapped a few more shots. The clues were there, growth still happened, and the city once again became busy to me.

Too busy to remember the past?

"Faded glory?"

Parking in the shadows of history ...

But, do we take the time to notice the past?

And driving home, I knew that we, every one of us who inhabit this "desert gone green," would be the true answer to the questions that had flooded my mind. For it was we Citizens who had elected those who would enslave us, and it would be our own votes and voices which would save us.

And may God bless us with wisdom and responsibility.
Amen.