Good old boys and Cesar Chavez farm worker advocates line lunch counter at Keene, Calif., café

Kirk Roper, left, and Jackie Palik stand in front of the Keene cafe.

A peeling, weather-beaten sign that shouts “Keene…Eat…Deli…Gas” looms over what at first glance appears to be a small wooden shack.

If you have ever traveled on Highway 58, between Bakersfield and Tehachapi, you have seen the sign and likely just kept driving.

But mountain residents and travelers adventurous enough to pull off the highway at Woodford-Tehachapi Road have discovered the shack-looking Keene Café is a treasure trove of good food and local lore.

“It’s our country club,” said Margaret Miller, a wiry woman who doesn’t stand still long enough to answer a reporter’s questions. She can’t. She’s too busy taking orders and slinging food onto tables, while cooks Huberto Chavez and Christian Gutierrez are flipping “loop burgers” in the kitchen.

Miller has worked at the restaurant for only a year. But a 20-year resident of the area, she has been a long-time customer.

The Keene café is where everyone comes to eat, talk and just hang out, said Miller, who lives in Hart Flat. “I love it here.”

There’s the “men’s club,” a group of local “guys” who eat together every week at the cafe. A framed, yellowing Tehachapi News story hanging from the café’s wall also calls the group the “Swat Team,” for the men’s commitment to swatting flies at the diner.

And then there is the “women’s club,” a group of local women who call the Keene café their home away from home once a week.

Located next to a Kern County Fire Department station and Helitak pad, the café is the weekly gathering place for area firefighters.

Open seven days a week, from 7 a.m. to 3 p.m., the Keene café is a magnet for just about anyone who passes by. Customers arrive on horses and Hogs, in sedans and pickup trucks. The point is: They just keep coming, with the big attraction being breakfast, which is served until 11 a.m. on weekdays and until noon on weekends.

“Their omelets are awesome,” said customer Jackie Palik, on a recent Saturday, as she and her friend, Kirk Roper, were climbing onto their motorcycles and getting ready to head back to their Tehachapi homes.

With the Union Pacific railroad tracks and famed “Tehachapi Loop” in spittin’ distance from the café, the menu’s trademark hamburger is called a “loop burger.” Customers also can find fancy entrees, like healthy salads, or gourmet dishes, like mushroom burgers, as well as hearty steaks and Mexican food on the menu.

Pies made by Tehachapi baker Charles Lewis using local fruit -- one pie with the intriguing name of Tehachaberry -- are encased in old-fashioned glass displays on the café’s counter. Miller insists that before customers can leave the café, they must cap off their meal with a slice of fresh pie.

Palik and Roper have been eating at the restaurant for around 15 years.

“It’s friendly and old-fashioned,” said Palik.

Roper, who also likes that it is “small and out of the way,” said he looks forward to the barbecues held on the patio out back in the summers.

Miller said she has had customers tell her that they have driven by the café for 20 years without stopping. And when they finally decide to stop, they become “regulars.”

One of the café’s regulars was the late Cesar Chavez. In 1971, Chavez’s farm workers organization bought 187 acres up the road from the café. The land was formerly Kern County’s tuberculosis sanitarium. It is now the National Chavez Center and the headquarters for the United Farm Workers union.

Monica Parra, conference and event manager for the National Chavez Center, recalled that Chavez and the café’s owner, Ruby Wood, would tease each other. She would ask Chavez when he was going to sell his land to her, and he would ask Wood when she was going to sell her café to him.

Chavez died suddenly at the age of 66 in 1993. A few years later, Wood’s health failed. As she planned to move to Oregon to be near family, Parra said she contacted the Chavez family. Remembering Chavez’s interest in buying the restaurant, she gave the UFW the right of first refusal before she put the café up for sale.

The UFW took Wood up on her offer, becoming the owners and operators of a refuge for bikers, good old boys and country folk.

“It’s a wonderful, cozy diner,” said Parra. “There are people who are in there every day. We have tweaked the menu and added some Mexican food, but we have kept it the way it has been for years.”

This article written by Dianne Hardisty was published first in The Bakersfield Californian on July 25, 2010.

U.S. AT WAR: Bakersfield ‘Cooks’ Witness Importance of Navy in Trip to Bahrain

Admirals Bill Gortney, left, and Mark Fox answer reporters' questions.
A news junkie, I consider myself at least moderately informed about international events and the nation’s interests in such “hot spots” as Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran and east Africa. But reading news stories and watching television reports just isn’t the same as putting your boots on the ground.

Next year will be the 10th anniversary of the start of U.S. fighting in Afghanistan. It has become our nation’s most protracted war, now exceeding the duration of the Vietnam War. And June was its most deadly month. No one is predicting when the fight will be “over” and what “over” really means.

Earlier this month, I traveled with the Bakersfield-based Cooks From The Valley to Bahrain, the headquarters of the U.S. Naval Forces Central Command and Fifth Fleet, which oversees Middle East operations.

Headed by attorney Tom Anton, about 60 volunteers, most from Bakersfield, flew to the Persian Gulf to barbecue steaks for the troops on July 4. Since the terrorists’ attacks on Sept. 11, 2001, the “cooks” have barbecued around 130,000 juicy Harris Ranch steaks to show their appreciation for U.S. soldiers and sailors on ships, on domestic and overseas bases, and in hospitals.



This month’s trip sent volunteer cook teams and steaks to four locations – to the Naval Support Activity, Bahrain; Shaikh Isa Air Base, Bahrain; aboard the amphibious assault carrier USS Nassau at sea; and at Camp Lemonier in Djibouti, near the Somalia border.



It was hot – real hot. Temperatures were around 120 degrees, with the humidity pushing the heat index maybe 20 degrees above that.



But that’s not what I will remember most about the trip. Maybe it’s what I whined about the most. The most memorable thing was the realization that we are – really – at war. And our nation’s finest are out there fighting it so we can go about our business at home not giving it much thought.



Anton hits the nail on the head when he observes that our troops are sacrificing every day so that we can live as though it was Sept. 10, 2001 – so that we can forget terrorists attacked New York and the Pentagon, and forget more terrorists want to inflict more harm today. Regardless of Americans’ legitimate disagreements over sending U.S. troops to the Middle East, thousands of our young military men and women are serving in some of the world’s most dangerous places.

To say thanks for that, Anton has enlisted “cooks,” who buy thousands of pounds of fresh steaks and haul them around the world, grilling up a taste of home for those who may sometimes feel forgotten.



In addition to being a U.S. Navy headquarters, Bahrain is a “support activity,” where ships – aircraft carriers, mine sweepers, submarines, etc. – come into port for supplies and other “activities.” A few miles away at Shaikh Isa Air Base, additional multi-national forces, including U.S. units, are stationed.



Both Isa and NSA Bahrain are on the Persian Gulf, east of Saudi Arabia, giving them “strategic locations” to support troops fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq, to keep a watch over Somali pirates who infest the waters off the East African coast and to counter terrorism throughout the region.



America doesn’t flaunt its presence in Bahrain. No big Stars and Stripes fly overhead; military uniforms are not worn into town; and high security is posted at gates, with bomb-sniffing dogs checking vehicles that enter.



Homesick sailors and soldiers are anxious to talk to visitors – especially those grilling 12-ounce steaks. But their talk is general. The “when and where” of their activities are mostly secret.



About 1,000 miles away, on July 4, Gen. David Petraeus took command of the war in Afghanistan. In a roar of controversy, Petraeus replaced Gen. Stanley McCrystal, who resigned after publication of an embarrassing Rolling Stones magazine article.



The next day in Bahrain, less media attention was given to another important change of command. Vice Admiral Mark Fox relieved Vice Admiral William Gortney as commander of the U.S. Naval Forces Central Command. Gortney will become director of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.



In prepared remarks and to reporters after the ceremony, which the Bakersfield cooks attended, Fox stressed the importance of the Navy’s presence in the Gulf. He pointed out that the “amazing growth” of the global economy makes protecting trade routes and stabilizing the region a priority for all nations. He likened the sea lanes to the body’s life-giving circulatory system and Navy forces to “doctors” who must keep the veins from clotting.



Gortney noted in an earlier interview that the U.S. reliance on a global economy requires the free movement of oil, natural gas and goods. “Buying and maintaining a Navy is vital to our interests.”



As evidence that U.S. allies in the Gulf have “come closer together, growing stronger together,” Gortney told reporters after the ceremony, “We are working very closely with the Iraqi Navy and within two years we will be ready to turn over the entire mission of protecting their two offshore oil terminals to them.”



Fox addressed the threat posed by Iran, which is located less than 300 miles away and directly across from Bahrain in the Persian Gulf. Saber-rattling Iran has been sanctioned by the U.N. over its nuclear program.



“I certainly do not expect a clash. We are not in the business of looking for trouble, but if trouble appears, we know how to deal with it,” he told reporters.



After spending a few days with my boots on the ground in Bahrain, there’s no doubt in my mind that the Navy knows how to deal with trouble. I’ve seen some of the might they will bring to the fight.



Dianne Hardisty retired as The Californian’s editorial page editor last year. She and her husband, John Hardisty, traveled with the “Cooks from the Valley” to Bahrain this month. This article written by Dianne Hardisty appeared first in The Bakersfield Californian on July 18, 2010.

TUNNY ORTALI: Shell Beach Restaurateur Takes 'Busman's Holiday' to Bahrain with 'Cooks from the Valley'

McLintocks co-founder Tunny Ortali barbecues with Cmdr. Steven Fuselier in Bahrain.

Talk about taking a “busman’s holiday.” Tunny Ortali, co-founder of the renowned McLintocks restaurant in Shell Beach, Calif., traveled this month with the “Cooks from the Valley,” a group of about 60 volunteer cooks.

Ortali and the other cooks hauled about 16,000 pounds of Harris Ranch steaks to U.S. troops in the Middle East and served a mouth-watering July 4 barbecue feast to homesick soldiers, sailors and marines to show their appreciation for the sacrifices the military is making to keep the U.S. and world safe.

Ortali’s McLintocks and its companion, Steamers of Pismo, are well known to many of the deployed service members and their families. The Central Coast steak and fish food restaurants are favorite destinations for military families stationed at Lemoore Naval Air Station, in California’s San Joaquin Valley. Lemoore is the home base of many Navy aviation squadrons assigned to carriers and flying missions over Iraq, Afghanistan and other combat zones.

Both Vice Adm. Mark Fox, the incoming leader of the Navy’s Central Command and 5th Fleet in Bahrain, and Vice Adm. William Gortney, the man Fox replaced during a change of command on July 5, were stationed at Lemoore Naval Air Station.

“I was incredibly honored to be part of the Cooks from the Valley Middle East tour,” Tunny wrote after his return. “My heart is filled with pride and patriotism when I tell everyone I know what we accomplished and what the mission entailed.”

Ortali, whose restaurants are renowned for their steak dinners, gave special attention to preparing and barbecuing the tri-tip steak for Gortney and Fox at the barbecue in Bahrain. Other locations cooks visited to serve the July 4 feast included Shaikh Isa Air Base, also in Bahrain; aboard the amphibious assault carrier USS Nassau at sea; and at Camp Lemonier in Djibouti, near the Somalia border.

Headed by attorney Tom Anton, the Bakersfield-based volunteer “cooks” have barbecued around 130,000 juicy Harris Ranch steaks since the terrorists’ attacks on Sept. 11, 2001, to show their appreciation for U.S. soldiers and sailors on ships, on domestic and overseas bases, and in hospitals. The cooks buy the steaks and pay for their expenses out of their own pockets.

Author Dianne Hardisty, a freelance writer in Bakersfield, Calif., and her husband, John Hardisty, traveled with the "Cooks from the Valley" to Bahrain.

KATRINA 5 YEARS LATER: Bakersfield's Generosity Still Felt by Victims

Little was left of a Biloxi, Miss., beach front after Hurricane Katrina

August marks the fifth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, the killer storm that buried New Orleans in the water that broke loose from the city’s levees and whose horrific winds ground away entire communities on the Gulf Coast.

The catastrophe touched residents in Bakersfield, Calif., who opened their wallets and hearts to help people in devastated Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama. Many contributed money and time through organized groups. Others went to the region, rolling up their sleeves and lending a hand.

Following on this blog are four stories of Bakersfield people and groups who responded in very personal ways. In no way do they represent a comprehensive picture of all the contributions Bakersfield people made. But they do demonstrate the generous and caring nature of our community.

Last spring I traveled to New Orleans and the Gulf Coast to report on how our efforts turned out.

I found tough, resilient people still coping with the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Profusely grateful for the help and still amazed by Bakersfield’s generosity, they conceded they had not yet fully recovered, but they were making progress. They could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Just a few days after I returned to Bakersfield, British Petroleum’s oil drilling platform Deepwater Horizon exploded, gushing out millions of barrels of oil into the Gulf of Mexico.

As Ray Cox, the Wal-Mart manager in Waveland, Miss., told me: “The light at the end of the tunnel has gone from a bright flashlight to a penlight. But, we’ll be OK. It’s more aggravating than anything. It slows you down.”

Hurricane Katrina blew away Cox’s Wal-Mart five years ago. Like his customers, Cox also was left homeless by Katrina.

But they were persevering. The rubble had been cleared away. Cox’s Wal-Mart was rebuilt. Businesses were returning. Tourism, which depends primarily on fishing, had rekindled.

That was before the BP explosion, before the tar balls and oil-drenched animals started washing ashore, and before fishing prohibitions chased away the tourists.

Ellie Vasilopoulos in Biloxi, Miss., told me that she is so sickened by this latest disaster she and her neighbors have stopped watching television news reports. They are just too darn depressing.

And she noted there are similarities in the BP and Katrina disasters: The responses to both lacked coordination. “No one knows who’s in charge.”

“It’s a mess,” she said recently. “We are counting the days when they cap the well and clean up the oil.”

A version of this July 10, 2010 article written by Dianne Hardisty was one in a series that was printed in The Bakersfield Californian about the results of Bakersfield volunteer projects to help rebuild the Gulf Coast after Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005. Dianne Hardisty and her husband, John Hardisty, traveled to New Orleans and the Gulf Coast in April 2010 to report on progress.

KATRINA 5 YEARS LATER: NPR Show Compelled Bakersfield Retiree to Help New Orleans Family

Carolyn and Michael Mattios in front of their New Orleans home.

Michael and Carolyn Mattios and their teenage sons fought their way through streets clogged with cars and fear to escape the floodwaters filling New Orleans. They made their way to Baton Rouge, leaving behind their modest Deers Street home on the border of the Ninth Ward.

A room in a crime-infested motel became the family's "temporary" home. But the stay they hoped would be for only a few days stretched into months, as New Orleans' recovery efforts were overwhelmed by the devastation.

A dishwasher, whose job was washed away by Hurricane Katrina, Michael would sneak back into the barricaded city, camping out in the wreckage of his house to keep looters away.

Carolyn remained at the motel, struggling to keep her family together and her sons in school. The family's predicament grew desperate until one day she was interviewed by a reporter from "All Things Considered," a National Public Radio show.

Asked how she was doing, Carolyn didn't hold back. Insurance money was slow in coming and meager when it arrived. The contractors they hired to fix their house did shoddy work. She doubted they would ever be able to go home.

Thousands of miles away in Bakersfield, Jack Hendrix, a retired East Bakersfield High School counselor and part-time home repairman, listened to Carolyn's sad story. He decided to help.

Hendrix tracked down the Mattios family through the NPR reporter. He recruited Chris Thomas, a young friend with construction skills, and headed to New Orleans. They camped out in a budget hotel, working for six weeks to repair the Mattios' house. And when they were done, Hendrix rented a truck, drove to Baton Rouge and moved the family back into their home.

"We were so surprised," said Carolyn during a recent interview in New Orleans. "After the show, people started sending money. It wasn't a lot of money -- $20 here and there. But it really helped."

"We got more help from people -- perfect strangers -- than we got from the government. We were touched by God. They didn't know us from the man on the moon, but they opened up their hearts and sent us their hard-earned money. They were the heroes," said Michael.

"But Jack was the only one that showed up to help. He pretty much finished fixing up our house," said Michael, 74, who now is retired. Carolyn just turned 62 and is receiving disability retirement. Their two sons are now attending college. The family keeps in touch with Jack, whom they call their friend.

"They are such sweet people," Hendrix said.

Pulling away from the Mattios' home, I waved to workers from Samaritan Purse Disaster Relief who were repairing a house. But mostly the neighborhood was quiet. The families that once made Deers Street a lively community were gone, likely not to come back. There were no children playing in the streets or behind the fences that lined yards.

On the top step of a porch of a nearby house sat Joan Lewis. Before Katrina, she worked for the telephone company. She's retired now. She returned to the wreckage of her home and fixed it up. It's freshly painted. The lawn that stretches to the street is manicured. But the buildings on both sides are abandoned, boarded up and marked with the all-too-common spray painted warnings of the Katrina rescue crews.

"Does that bother you?" I asked her, getting out of my car to chat.

"Yes, it's forever reminding me," she said. "It reminds me of the power of God. But he didn't do this to be hateful. It also reminds me of the goodness of people; all those people who came to help.

"Now it's time to move forward."

This July 10, 2010 article written by Dianne Hardisty is one in a series that was printed in The Bakersfield Californian about the results of Bakersfield volunteer projects to help rebuild the Gulf Coast after Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005. Dianne Hardisty and her husband, John Hardisty, traveled to New Orleans and the Gulf Coast in April 2010 to report on progress.

KATRINA 5 YEARS LATER: Bakersfield woman's family rebuilding lives

Dawn Lusich stands with Ray Cox

Hurricane Katrina was bearing down on the Gulf Coast when Sandra Boswell in Bakersfield received a telephone call from her family in Mississippi.

“It’s a 5,” she heard.

At first she thought they were talking about the time of day. Then it hit her. They were talking about the strength of the storm. Katrina was a category 5 hurricane.

“Oh, my God. You all have to leave,” she pleaded.

Boswell knew the power of a category 5 hurricane. She rode out category 5 Hurricane Camille in 1969 and vowed “never again. It was terrifying.”

Boswell, a registered nurse who oversees the intensive care units at Catholic Healthcare West’s Bakersfield hospitals, has many brothers and sisters still living along the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Her husband, Bill, also has family around Bay St. Louis.

The couple moved to Bakersfield in the 1980s so Bill could work in the oil industry. Bakersfield “grew on them” and they never moved “back home” to Mississippi.

When Katrina landed, Boswell’s brother and two of her sisters “lost everything.” Her sister Dawn Lusich, whose family had a catfish farm and oyster beds, stubbornly stayed to protect their business.

But as the churning ocean filled Lusich’s neighborhood with water, she and her two young children fled with neighbors into her home’s attic. Rain-filled winds ripped the roof from the house. Flood waters caused it to drift from its foundation.

When Katrina moved on and calm returned to the devastated city, Lusich, her children and neighbors were rescued from the attic rooftop.

“She thought she was going to die,” Sandra said.

Nearly 2,000 miles away, Sandra and Bill Boswell began collecting clothing and supplies for their families and friends in Mississippi. With the help of a Bakersfield television station, a collection point was set up. When the first tractor-trailer rig was filled, it headed east. Just a few days later, a second 18-wheeler was stuffed with supplies and sent to the Gulf.

“Sandra called and said Billie was on his way,” recalled Lusich. “When he arrived, I could not believe the outpouring of help from Bakersfield.”

A few weeks later, Sandra traveled to Mississippi. “We had no Gulf. It was all gone. It was horrible. All I did was cry,” she said.

The Wal-Mart in nearby Waveland, where Lusich worked in the customer service department, also was gone. Manager Ray Cox told his bosses at corporate headquarters in Arkansas that the place “looked like Hiroshima after the bomb was dropped.”

Company trucks began arriving with water, non-perishable food and supplies. For the next 30 days, Wal-Mart gave away — free of charge — life-sustaining medications. Tents housed a temporary Wal-Mart.

Meanwhile, Cox, who also lost his home, dispatched staff to check on employees. Using payroll records, they fanned out to account for everyone. Sadly, Edgar Bane, a worker on the loading dock, and his family of four had died in the storm.

Every employee received a $1,000 check to get them through the early days of the crisis. And when they were able to return to work, jobs were waiting for them. Eleven months after the storm, Waveland’s new Wal-Mart opened for business.

“Like everyone else around here, we pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps,” Cox said. “It’s made us stronger.”

Lusich credits Cox and Wal-Mart for getting her through the hard times.

She and most of her neighbors have rebuilt their homes. Lusich’s house is not as grand as her old one.

“Katrina took a lot from me, but it also gave me a lot,” Lusich said, explaining she is closer to her family and friends today.

I called Cox a few days ago to see how his community was fairing after the BP platform explosion. Many of his customers and neighbors are fishermen. They now work for BP. Instead of pulling shrimp and fish from the nearby waters, they are laying boom and sucking out oil.

“We’re persevering and just waiting to see what happens,” he said.


This July 10, 2010 article written by Dianne Hardisty is one in a series that was printed in The Bakersfield Californian about the results of Bakersfield volunteer projects to help rebuild the Gulf Coast after Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005. Dianne Hardisty and her husband, John Hardisty, traveled to New Orleans and the Gulf Coast in April 2010 to report on progress.

KATRINA 5 YEARS LATER: Biloxi residents still live in trailers from Bakersfield

David Brand, left, stands with David Davis.

Biloxi, Miss., insurance man David Brand was wading through water and rubble when he heard a "goofy" idea coming out of Bakersfield, Calif.

About the same time, Pastor Steve Truitt, contractor Jim Childress and a handful of Calvary Bible Church members were looking across an Arvin farm field cooking up the "goofy" idea.

The field Childress had recently purchased was littered with 50 weather-beaten, dilapidated trailer homes left over from the Bracero farm worker program of the 1940s and 1950s.

Childress' idea was to donate the trailers to his church, have volunteers fix them up, then haul the trailers back to the Gulf Coast to provide temporary housing for people left homeless by Hurricane Katrina.

Truitt recalled thinking: "This is something much bigger than my church."

And the project became just that -- much bigger. Other churches joined in, as did businesses. Rotary Clubs opened their wallets and provided manpower.

A loose-knit chain of church, charity and Rotary connections spread word of the project to Biloxi, where Katrina had ground away historic antebellum mansions, modest cottages, restaurants, businesses and resorts. First Presbyterian Church, where Brand was an elder, was the only church facing the water that was left standing.

"This place was decimated," Brand recalled recently. While the media attention was focused on New Orleans, which was flooded when the city's levees broke, the center of hurricane damage was the Mississippi, Louisiana and Alabama coast.

"Ninety percent of my friends lost everything," said Ellie Vasilopoulos, a retired Kessler Air Force Base civilian employee. "You would ask someone, 'How did you do?'" She choked back tears when she recalled a friend told her, "Not even a teacup was left."

The damage was so widespread along the Gulf Coast that Brand, Vasilopoulos and their neighbors figured they were pretty much on their own.

"We didn't feel abandoned. We just never expected anyone to help," said Brand. "Why in the world would they come?"

But they did come. And "they" who came quickest were not from the government.

"I don't know what we would have done without all the help from all the communities," said Vasilopoulos, praising church and civic groups for their fast response.

Clothing and supplies arrived by the truckload. Quick-witted Brand became the "go-to guy" in Biloxi in the early days. So it's not surprising that he received the idea -- which he admits sounded pretty goofy -- to fix up and haul 50 aging trailer homes from Bakersfield to Biloxi.

Back in Bakersfield, church member Steve Ogden allowed a field behind his company, Concrete Cutting Unlimited on Well Tech Way in Rosedale, to be used as a staging area, where trailers would be repaired by teams of volunteers. It costs about $4,000 to repair and outfit each trailer. Many of the building supplies and furnishings were donated.

"The first month or two, we didn't know how we were going to pay the bills," Truitt recalled. But then money and donated supplies started pouring in. Area Rotary clubs did a lot of the fundraising. In Biloxi, Brand hustled money to transport the trailers.

Over the next eight months, as a handful of trailers would be fixed up, Bakersfield volunteers would hitch them to trucks and caravan them to Biloxi. They were given to families that had fallen through "FEMA's cracks" -- they did not qualify for federal housing or were on long waiting lists.

Families were handed the keys and told to pass the trailers along to another family when they no longer needed them. Today you can still find some of these trailers scattered about Biloxi's modest neighborhoods.

David Davis invited me into his trailer. The unit now rests on a permanent foundation and sports a front porch. It has been passed along by several owners. Like earlier residents, Davis is mighty grateful to folks in Bakersfield for their efforts.

"God gave us wisdom beyond all measure," said Truitt, adding that a lasting benefit of the trailer project was to bring area churches, groups and individuals together. Some of the same people who helped restore the trailers now work on similar missionary projects together.

As Biloxi rounded the corner into its fifth year since Katrina, Vasilopoulos boasted of the community's comeback. Storm wreckage had been cleared away. Homes and businesses were being rebuilt. Work on a museum, which Biloxi leaders hope will become a tourist attraction, neared completion. Things were definitely looking up.

But that was before British Petroleum's Horizon drilling rig exploded. While the oil has not yet hit the city's beaches, residents can smell it. Gloomy media reports and fishing restrictions keep tourists away.

"It's impacting everyone," Vasilopoulos said. "We are all very concerned. That's all we seem to talk about. And we are scared to death that a hurricane is going to come along and push the oil towards us."

This July 10, 2010 article written by Dianne Hardisty is one in a series that was printed in The Bakersfield Californian about the results of Bakersfield volunteer projects to help rebuild the Gulf Coast after Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005. Dianne Hardisty and her husband, John Hardisty, traveled to New Orleans and the Gulf Coast in April 2010 to report on progress.

KATRINA 5 YEARS LATER: Bakersfield woman helps rebuild Lakeshore

Pamala McCarver recalls that she was crying so hard she could barely see through her car's windshield as she drove along the back roads around Bay St. Louis, Miss.

It was six weeks after Hurricane Katrina ripped thousands of homes from their foundations and tossed many into the ocean. A registered nurse at San Joaquin Hospital in Bakersfield, McCarver traveled to the Gulf Coast to visit her Kern County fire captain husband, Randy, who was helping with recovery efforts.

"It was like the entire San Fernando Valley had been wiped out," McCarver recalled recently. "There were spots of hope, but mostly devastation."

McCarver turned down Lakeshore Road and stopped. The steeple of a church rested on the ground, pointing toward the heavens. Next to it was a tarp-like tent where food and clothing was being distributed.

She approached a young couple, telling them how sorry she was that the church was destroyed.

Pastor Don A. Elbourne Jr. and his wife, Courtney, assured her the Lakeshore Baptist Church had not been destroyed. Hurricane Katrina only destroyed its building.

That exchange kindled a friendship between McCarver and the Elbournes that continues today. Over the past five years, McCarver and her friends in Bakersfield have sent supplies and gifts to the Elbournes and their church members. Holidays are remembered. Telephone calls are exchanged. They have become family.

A new church has been built. Behind it is a distribution center where needy area residents still come for help. A food pantry and dormitories have been added. Under construction is another building, where counseling and job training will be offered.

With the help of people like Pamala McCarver, the little country church that dates back to 1911 has become Rebuild Lakeshore (www.rebuildlakeshore.com). It's a place where church groups from throughout the nation come to rebuild homes and help heal lives.

People spend a week or two, or maybe more, sleeping in dormitories at night, cooking their meals in the mess hall and toiling in the heat of the Mississippi sun as house-by-house, street-by-street, this coastal town is put back together.

"We were 'ground zero' when Katrina hit," the pastor explained when I recently visited. Only a mile from the coast, the community was left 30 feet under water. "Every home in the area was gone; more than 4,000 lost."

A poor area, where most family incomes come from the fishing or offshore oil industries, the people of Lakeshore had little to lose, and they lost even that.

The church's stubborn steeple and the tent relief city that sprouted up around initially "became a beacon of hope," Elbourne recalled. But as the weeks and months of recovery dragged on, it also became "a symbol of devastation." The church buildings, themselves, had to be rebuilt.

"We had to make ourselves a hopeful scene if we were going to be in this for the long-term," he said. "What the storm did will affect this community for generations. We are dealing with the community's psychological, as well as physical recovery."

"Some people have lived here for seven generations. Their lives and their incomes are tied to the coast," he said. "They aren't leaving."

And that makes the recent BP oil disaster and the spoiling of the fishing industry such a painful blow to this already fragile community.

When I called a few days ago, church secretary Joell Fricke reported that commercial fishing is at a standstill. The community's shrimpers are idle. The lucky ones have been hired by BP to clean up the oil.

This July 10, 2010 article written by Dianne Hardisty is one of a series that was printed in The Bakersfield Californian about the results of Bakersfield volunteer projects to help rebuild the Gulf Coast after Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005. Dianne Hardisty and her husband, John Hardisty, traveled to New Orleans and the Gulf Coast in April 2010 to report on progress.

Bakersfield to Bahrain: Unusual 'mission' for San Diego-based squadron VR-57

Just hours after a 7.0 magnitude earthquake devastated Haiti in January, Bill Crump and his San Diego-based fleet logistics support squadron were in the air, flying non-stop airlifts of lifesaving supplies and personnel into the region.


It wasn’t the first international emergency Crump, the squadron’s commanding officer, has responded to. But it dramatically demonstrated the readiness and capabilities of his Navy reserve squadron, which has repeatedly won military commendations.

Crump, 44, who grew up in Cleveland, Tenn., said he was “extremely proud of the men and women of VR-57, who stepped up at a moment’s notice to make [the Haiti] mission happen.”

The long list of humanitarian missions the squadron has flown also includes airlifting New Orleans refugees from the flood waters of Hurricane Katrina in 2005, and hauling rescue supplies and crews to the stricken Gulf Coast in its C-40A, which is a variation of a Boeing 737 that can be quickly reconfigured to carry cargo, passengers, or both.

While Crump describes his squadron’s primary mission as “bringing the fighter to the fight,” the crews’ readiness, the long-range reach of its aircraft and the unit’s flexibility provide frequent and unique challenges.

“You call, we’ll be there,” Crump recently told a reporter.

“There” may be airlifting warriors and weapons to hot spots in the Middle East, or “there” may be delivering the Harlem Globetrotters to a show on a military base. Legislators, diplomats and foreign officers have sat in the jump seat behind Crump in the cockpit as he has flown around the world.

But as he prepares to hand over command of VR-57 next month, Crump said one of his most unusual and gratifying missions was airlifting 15,000 pounds of fresh steak and the 58 volunteer cooks, mostly from the Bakersfield,Calif., to barbecues for troops in the Middle East on July 4.

The loosely-knit group that calls itself the “Cooks from the Valley” was airlifted with top-of-the-line Harris Ranch steaks to Bahrain, where teams of “cooks” were dispatched to four locations -- the Naval Support Activity (Bahrain), Shaikh Isa Air Base ( Bahrain), aboard the amphibious assault ship USS Nassau in the Persian Gulf and Camp Lemonier, a remote base in Djibouti, Africa, where troops stand watch over Somali pirates.

In temperatures pushed beyond the recorded 120 degrees by the humidity and heat from barbecue grills, the valley cooks served up a dinner that included a 12-ounce gourmet steak and all the traditional July 4 side dishes to homesick sailors, soldiers and marines. Volunteers paid for the steaks and their expenses out of their own pockets.

The idea behind the barbecues began two decades ago. Bakersfield attorney Tom Anton began boxing up prime grade steaks, hauling them to ships and barbecuing them for sailors as expressions of his appreciation for the military.

But after the terrorists’ attacks on the United States on Sept. 11, 2001, Anton’s barbecues grew into “Cooks from the Valley,” who travel like an invading army, barbecuing steaks by the thousands to weary troops, some deployed to the most dangerous and isolated regions of the world.

“We buy the steak, cook them and clean up,” explained Anton. “Anyone can give money. This is something we can do for the military that is allowing us to live today like it was Sept. 10, 2001. They are keeping us safe.”

Since Sept. 11, 2001, the valley cooks have barbecued more than 130,000 steaks for troops in military hospitals and on bases in combat areas, as well as stateside. On Christmas Day 2007, four cooks, including Anton, traveled to a medical outpost in Iraq to barbecue steaks.

“The need continues,” said Anton. “We are asking enormous sacrifices from these kids. We are creating ‘old young people.’ We have exposed these kids to things no one has seen, as these wars have dragged on and the U.S. has become the 911 responder for the world.”

Lt. Kendra Kaufman, a VR-57 pilot who flew legs of the valley cooks’ airlift, called the mission unique because of the “diplomatic and logistics requirements of bringing civilians into multiple combat zones, as well as the challenge of transporting perishable cargo” into an area in which the temperatures are well above 100 degrees.

Crump said he was honored to participate in the mission because he was “inspired by these ‘patriots’ not only giving of their time and money, but more importantly their genuine sincerity and appreciation of our forward deployed troops.”

The son of Olivia Crump of Cleveland and William Crump Jr. of Huntsville, Ala., the squadron’s commander is a graduate of Cleveland High School and Auburn University. He has been in the Navy for 22 years.

After several years of active duty, Crump transitioned to “reserve” status and began flying as a commercial airline pilot. He became a full-time reserve last year to serve as VR-57’s commanding officer.

Crump will remain in the reserves and resume flying for United Airlines after next month’s change of command. He and his wife, Carol, live in San Diego.

Dianne Hardisty is a freelance writer in Bakersfield, Calif. She and her husband, John Hardisty, traveled with the Cooks from the Valley to Bahrain for the July 4 barbecues. She wrote this story for The Cleveland Daily Banner in Cleveland, Tenn., the home town of the squadron's commanding officer, Bill Crump.

Captions: Top -- Cmdr. Bill Crump (left) and Lt. Kendra Kaufman are shown in the cockpit of their C-40A flying back to the U.S. from Bahrain. Center -- Cooks from the Valley, including Richard Wilson (center) barbecue steaks for the troops in Bahrain on July 4. Bottom -- Cmdr. Crump supervises the unloading of 15,000 pounds of steaks from his squadron's cargo plane in Bahrain.

TOM ANTON: A Call To Serve ... Meat

Tom Anton, left, with Vice Adm. William Gortney in Bahrain.

Tom Anton’s barbecues began simply: A guy from Bakersfield, with a genuine fondness for the military, boxed up a bunch of prime cut steaks, hauled them to a ship and barbecued them for a bunch of sailors.


Anton’s first barbecue about two decades ago was followed by several more – just one man’s personal expressions of appreciation for the military’s sacrifices.

But after the terrorists’ attacks on the United States on Sept. 11, 2001, Anton’s barbecues evolved into a loosely-knit group of about 60 people, called the Cooks from the Valley, traveling like an invading army, barbecuing steaks by the thousands to weary sailors, soldiers and marines, some deployed to the most dangerous and isolated regions of the world.

To understand how a simple barbecue could become such a big deal, you have to go back to their beginnings, which make Anton laugh when he talks about them.

Anton says the closest he came to having a military experience was spending some time in a military school as a kid. The 65-year-old attorney was born and raised in landlocked Bakersfield, Calif. But he developed a fondness for the ocean, an interest in boats and a respect for the U.S. Navy. That led to Anton’s involvement in the local Navy League chapter, as its legal advisor.

“The most complicated issue I dealt with was whether or not we could have beer at an event,” recalled Anton during a recent interview. He admitted he was a bit bored by the assignment and pestered to go out on a ship. His pestering landed him with a ride on a ship bound for Seattle.

A Navy officer he met on that ship later became the executive officer of the USS Chandler, a guided missile destroyer. He invited Anton to ride the Chandler home to California from Hawaii. An avid barbecue chef, Anton decided to arrange a taste of valley cooking for the ship’s crew.

Before he flew to Hawaii to board the Chandler, he called a prestigious restaurant on the island and ordered 400 of its best raw steaks. But he hadn’t quite figured out how to get the steaks from the restaurant to the ship at Pearl Harbor.

“I tried to rent a car, but that wasn’t big enough. I tried to get a van, and that didn’t work out either,” he recalled. The solution was to hire a limousine.

Anton crammed boxes of steaks into every inch of the limousine, as Rocky, the driver, fretted that the steaks would bleed out of the boxes and onto the plush upholstery. “I told them they wouldn’t leak. Hell, I had no idea what would happen.”

The ship’s commander, Robert Natter, cleared Anton through the base gate. When the limousine pulled up next to the ship, a senior chief came down to inspect the meat. He ripped into a box, pulled out a slab of meat, and slammed it back into the box, declaring: “It’s not good Navy steaks; it’s too thick.”

A stunned Anton held back his anger. When he looked up at the ship’s bridge, he saw his friend, the executive officer, and Natter laughing at their joke.

Anton and his steaks set sail in a calm sea and beautiful weather. The barbecue was scheduled for the third day of the journey. By then “the weather had turned snotty,” Anton recalled, describing the strong winds and high waves that rocked the ship.

He thought the crew was kidding when they told him he would have to cook the steaks on steel plates in the galley. Instead, he went onto the deck and began preparing the barbecue coals. It was only after he asked to have the ship turned away from the wind that he was ordered to the galley. Anton’s first attempt at barbecuing at sea turned out to be a disappointing steak fry.

That was in 1980. The amicable, fast-talking Anton would not be discouraged. He finagled his way into staging more barbecues – one-man events, 400 to 500 steaks, on ships and bases, every year or two.

Then the terrorists attacked New York and the Pentagon in 2001.

The Chandler’s young commander had moved up the ranks. He was now an admiral, overseeing Atlantic Fleet operations.

Anton called his old friend and asked to do a really big barbecue on board a Navy aircraft carrier.

The admiral’s initial response: “What the [expletive].”

“I told him that he had no idea about the need for private citizens to do something for the military,” Anton recalled. But the admiral was doubtful about the logistics of hauling more than 5,000 steaks out to a ship and barbecuing them.

After some convincing, Natter and other reluctant Navy brass cleared the way for Anton’s barbecue aboard the USS John C. Stennis, as it sailed from Pearl Harbor to San Diego, just eight months after 9/11.

The 12-ounce steaks served to the Stennis crew came from Fresno County’s Harris Ranch. Most of the 50-plus cooks that Anton recruited to help came from Bakersfield. This eclectic group of lawyers, judges and business people paid for the steaks themselves and sweat over barbecue coals to bring a taste of home to the kids fighting the “war on terror.”

“We buy the steak, cook them and clean up,” explained Anton. “Anyone can give money. This is something we can do for the military that is allowing us to live today like it was Sept. 10, 2001. They are keeping us safe.”

Anton recalled that a young woman on the Stennis came up to the cooks, with tears in her eyes. She asked why they had done such a generous thing.

Anton admits that his response to the woman was a bit lame. But he gets emotional when he recalls what a Bakersfield businessman told her.

Ron Surgener was serving in Vietnam, when he was suddenly given orders to return home. Still in his military uniform, he arrived at the airport in San Francisco to jeers. He was stunned and hurt by the reception.

Surgener told the young woman that he made up his mind that he would never let that happen to any other soldier. Surgener and his son, Lester, have participated in many of the Cooks from the Valley barbecues.

Since Sept. 11, 2001, the Cooks have barbecued more than 70,000 thick, juicy Harris Ranch steaks for soldiers, sailors and marines. The barbecues have been held aboard ships, in military hospitals and on bases in high profile areas, such as the Persian Gulf and Guantanamo Bay Naval Station, as well as stateside. On Christmas Day 2007, four cooks, including Anton, traveled to a medical outpost in Iraq to barbecue steaks.

This month, Anton’s Cooks from the Valley flew to the Persian Gulf with about 16,000 pounds of steaks. Volunteer cooks barbecued on July 4 for U.S. and coalition troops in four locations – at the Naval Support Activity and at Shaikh Isa Air Base, both in Bahrain; aboard the amphibious assault ship USS Nassau in the Persian Gulf, and at Camp Lemonier, a base in Djibouti, in the Horn of Africa, where troops stand watch over Somali pirates.

“The need continues,” said Anton. “We are asking enormous sacrifices from these kids. We are creating ‘old young people.’ We have exposed these kids to things no one has seen, as these wars have dragged on and the U.S. has become the 911 responder for the world.”

Anton explained the barbecues are able to come together because “I just happen to know a lot of guys who won’t hang up on me when I call them and ask for help.”

With her husband, John Hardisty, freelance writer Dianne Hardisty traveled with the Cooks from the Valley to Bahrain. She wrote about Tom Anton's barbecue quests for The Bakersfield Californian.

Bakersfield 'Cooks' Barbecue Harris Ranch Steaks for U.S. Troops

Steaks are unloaded in Bahrain.

An army of 60 volunteers, mostly from Bakersfield, Calif., flew to the Persian Gulf and Africa to celebrate July 4 with U.S. soldiers, sailors and marines.


Cooks From The Valley dispatched teams to barbecue 12-ounce Harris Ranch steaks for U.S. troops at Bahrain Naval Air Station, Shaikh Isa Air Base in Bahrain, aboard the amphibious assault ship USS Nassau in the Persian Gulf and at Camp Lemonier, a  base in Djibouti, in the Horn of Africa, where troops stand watch over Somali pirates.

It was the first time this loosely-knit group of volunteers had barbecued in four different locations, more than 1,000 miles apart, simultaneously on the same day.

The barbecues were staged to show America’s appreciation for the military’s sacrifices, particularly after the terrorists’ attacks on Sept. 11, 2001. They were intended to bring a taste of home to the troops. Volunteer cooks paid for the steaks and their own expenses.

Airlifting thousands of steaks and cooks to often remote locations, or aboard ships is a logistical challenge. But after barbecuing more than 70,000 steaks since the 9/11 attacks, these events are beginning to resemble the maneuvers of a well-trained army.

But even Tom Anton, who organizes the barbecues, admited this latest far-flung trip was more complex than earlier ones.

The cooks left Bakersfield by bus on June 28, traveling to Lemoore Naval Air Station in Kings County, Calif., where they boarded a military cargo plane. Their days-long trip to Bahrain required several fueling and crew-change stops in Europe. They returned to Bakersfield on July 7.

Many of those traveling to Bahrain had volunteered for several past trips.

Catherine Gay, who led the team in Isa, first became a cook in 2005 for a barbecue aboard the USS Ronald Reagan. She has since traveled to Dubai, Guantanamo Bay Naval Station, and to several stateside bases and ships.

“Those kids – and yes they are kids – are over there fighting for us. They deserve the best,” she said during interviews with several of the cooks before they left for Bahrain. “It makes you feel good. A lot of times, they don’t even know we are there until they come through the [food] line. They are so grateful. They are so polite.”

Gay found the experience so rewarding that her husband, David, joined her on later trips.

Like many of the cooks, David Gay is a Vietnam War veteran. He recalls that he “crawled home,” after his discharge from the military in 1970. He and the other cooks are committed to treating those fighting today’s wars differently.

“You meet some great kids out there,” said David Gay, who helped lead the team barbecuing in Bahrain. “They are amazing. You come back feeling very good.”

David Gay, Tom Anton, Rocky Spencer and Jeff Peters are so committed to the cooks project that they gave up their Christmas in 2007 to fly to Iraq to barbecue 600 steaks for an expeditionary medical group.

“I do it because I have a passion for it,” said Spencer, an avid cook, who also barbecues at many Bakersfield area fund raising events. But he said it is the appreciation of the troops and camaraderie of the cooks that keep his suitcase packed and him ready to say “yes” when Anton arranges another trip.

“You get such satisfaction from this. It is a privilege, an honor to serve our finest men and women in uniform,” Spencer said.

“It’s a small thing we can do to help bring a little bit of home to the people who are keeping us safe,” said Peters, who was on the team cooking at Camp Lemonnier.

J.J. Gianquinto, a Navy veteran, whose son is a Navy reservist, is leading the team barbecuing on the USS Nassau.

“Tom [Anton] has taken on a project of immense proportion,” noted Gianquinto. “To have four teams at four locations, all preparing steaks to be served at approximately the same time is, in itself, daunting. To have those locations spread as far apart as they are, with requirements as varied as they are is an amazing feat.

“We will be cooking on the flight deck of a carrier under way. Isa is a remote location that is in a very strict Muslim area. Bahrain base is a U.S. Navy installation. Camp Lemoneir is right next to Somalia … near one of the pirate bases.

“It is clear that the military is at war, but the rest of the nation is not. Those kids must be recognized and made to know they are appreciated.”

This story written by Dianne Hardisty, who traveled with the Cooks from the Valley with her husband, John Hardisty, appeared first in The Bakersfield Californian on July 4, 2010.