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“Charlottesville changed the whole dynamic,” said Mayor Arreguin at last week’s special City Council meeting to consider how Berkeley will respond to another right-wing rally on Sunday. 

What happened in Charlottesville, Virginia? A car ran over pedestrians, killing one and injuring 19, five critically. In some respects, such slaughter is nothing new. Cars hit pedestrians every hour of every day in America. It’s an epidemic, and it’s getting worse every year because of drink and distraction. Two years ago, 5,376 pedestrians were killed in traffic crashes in the United States; that number rose to 5,997 in 2016. This averages to one crash-related pedestrian death every 1.6 hours. Additionally, almost 129,000 pedestrians were treated in emergency departments for non-fatal crash-related injuries that year. Pedestrians are 1.5 times more likely than passengers to be killed in a car crash. 

Auto related fatalities are the real American carnage, and the trend is worrisome. Last year, more than 40,000 were killed in traffic accidents, a 6% increase over the year before. More Americans have been killed on the roads in the last two years than during the entire Vietnam War, a total of 58,220. 

So the casualties in Charlottesville, Virginia are a drop in the bucket, statistically speaking. The big difference is that this crash was no accident, but a deliberate act of domestic terrorism, politically motivated, in the vein of vehicle ramming attacks such as the Bastille Day 2016 massacre in Nice, where a truck mowed down celebrants, killing 86 and injuring over 400, many of them children. ISIS claimed responsibility for that attack as well as Berlin and Barcelona. The militant jihadists have broadcast a call for such lone-wolf assaults by cars and trucks, instructing their followers to rent heavier vehicles, drive faster, and target pedestrian areas to maximize the damage. We know that the Charlottesville driver James Alex Fields, Jr. was influenced by homespun propaganda, but a foreign enemy inspired his homicidal MO. 

Protecting pedestrians and protestors from this and other potential danger was the Council’s motivation for passing the urgent ordinance last week, giving added power to the City Manager to take preventive actions, including closing streets to traffic during un-permitted gatherings and confiscating weapons. Whether it was legally necessary is a question that I’m not qualified to answer. 

However, the threat is palpable. We feel the risk of being hit by a car whenever we cross a busy street on our daily forays, even when assuming that the drivers are rational and responsible. Most pedestrians are hyper-alert at such moments, and when we converge at the corners, dark jokes about the crossing are likely to pass among us. I approach any busy artery the way we have been instructed to deal with a mountain lion on a trail. I try to appear bigger, wave my arms around, make eye contact with the driver, and shout inanities like Hey you at the wheel of that SUV, notice me, a little old lady pedestrian, please don’t run me over. 

The human body is a complicated and frail assemblage of liquids, fibers, and soft tissues. Our hardest elements, the bones, are easily broken. In a smashup with a two-ton mass of metal traveling at even relatively low speed, we might as well be jellyfish with teeth. It’s a wonder that anybody survives. 

In November of 1962, when I was a college sophomore, my parents were in a collision on route 209 near Kingston, New York. My mother survived her injuries; my father did not. Seeing our parents’ battered bodies after the accident was traumatic for my brother and me. Only years later did I understand that the long-lasting effects of depression required counseling. Thanks to the psychiatric unit at Oakland Kaiser and support from Mothers Against Drunk Driving, I got better. 

Considering the vast numbers of auto related wounds and deaths inflicted on a regular basis, it’s amazing that our society functions. Add to that trauma, the stress of the daily commute, the shortage of affordable housing, dread and despair imparted by institutional and incidental racism, an increase in gun violence, the fear of deportation, a resurgence of anti-Semitism, growing income inequality, the insecurity of climate change, and we’ve got a toxic soup that’s poisoning the body politic. We know that it’s getting worse under Trump, but we have no exact way of measuring the harm. Years ago, in a conversational French class in Paris, we were discussing life in America, and several Europeans said that they or friends had returned home because living here was just too harsh, and that was before 9/11. We exist in a political pressure cooker with the heat being turned up bit by bit. 

And now we have to endure the anxieties produced by living under a mad king - the public face of a soft military coup – and we are in danger of succumbing to some kind of communal mental disease. Mass psychology happens. On Sunday I’m going to a lunch and meeting of the League of Women Voters at the botanical gardens. Plants are grounding. There are several other positive, non-violent gatherings scheduled. May the healing force be with us all. 

How to feel better in bad times 

Last week, we visited the Rosie the Riveter museum on Marina Bay in Richmond, a national park that’s free of charge and full of exhibits that emphasize the sacrifice, social advances, and unity of the World War II home front. Very few of the great generation are still alive, but you can hear their stories in the films and docent talks. 95-year old Betty Reid Soskin is still going strong on Tuesdays, and other survivors of that era appear on Fridays. You can get a Rosie the Riveter red cotton scarf with white polka dots for $6 at the museum. After visiting the museum, lunch waits at Assembly restaurant next door or you can walk around Marina Bay to Anh Vietnamese Kitchen, which is open for lunch until 3, serving some very fine fresh rolls and pho. 

It’s important to carve out special times for healing. I strongly recommend La Cage Aux Folles at the SF Playhouse, which runs through September 16. With a brilliant book by Harvey Fierstein and sing-along tunes by Jerry Herman, this musical is a flagrant advertisement for self-acceptance and love. Ryan Drummond and John Treacy Egan are knockouts in the lead roles of Georges and Albin, but the entire ensemble meshes beautifully under the direction of Bill English. I like their Saturday matinees at 3, which gives you a great excuse to eat dinner in downtown San Francisco with its numerous ethnic restaurants. Our favorite is Kim Thanh at 607 Geary near Jones, a Chinese restaurant specializing in fish and seafood, served family style at a moderate price. 

Another soul satisfying treat can be had at the Cal Shakespeare Theater with the current run of Black Odyssey by local playwright Marcus Gardley, on the boards until September 3. It’s a play with music, not a musical, but it rocks. Not that many tickets are left, not cheap either but worth every penny. You can get food and a blanket there, or bring your own, which holds down the cost of the outing. Dress in layers and a sun hat for the matinees. I like Sunday late afternoons; the light on the hills beyond the stage adds to the glow. 

The film Hidden Figures appeared in my mailbox, the best movie on my Netflix queue in many months. Based on the true story of a team of African-American women working as “calculators” at NASA during the space race with the USSR, this untold chapter in the history of the 1960’s is an eye-opener as well as a heart-warmer. Who knew such brilliant mathematical minds were hiding in segregated Virginia? The lingering question at the end of the film: are we making progress toward an integrated society or sliding backwards? 

On Monday, we enjoyed a free show: the partial eclipse of the sun. On the way to Moss Beach, we stopped at Treasure Island and met a family of four who had an extra pair of glasses that allowed us to see an orange sun partially eaten by the moon shadow. Then off to the Fitzgerald Marine Reserve on the San Mateo Coast, where we walked through a mysterious cypress grove to the Moss Beach Distillery, a haunted former speakeasy overlooking the Pacific Ocean. On the way back, we descended a wooden staircase to the beach, and back on the cliffs, watched the harbor seals take a nap at low tide at Seal Cove. Why go abroad for an expensive vacation when there are so many adventures right here at home? 

Sign our Move-on Petition 

Friends of R-1A are sponsoring the “Keep West Berkeley Affordable” petition at MoveOn.org. We’ve been attending Planning Commission meetings on reform of West Berkeley residential zoning for the past year and have developed a proposal that would preserve more open space and lower heights to ensure a scale more consistent with existing neighborhoods. The staff/ developer proposal is three stories for a front house and two stories for a rear, which gobbles up open space, sun, and privacy. We recommend two stories in the front, and a one story rear cottage, more open space, and sun access. Neither proposal changes the current density of two units per parcel, but we prefer a compact one building duplex to achieve that density or an added ADU. Two large condo houses is an allowance that has raised the land values and threatens to displace low-income families, including our 30% Hispanic population. 

Please sign the petition and post a message as well. If you want more information, we would be happy to attend a living room meeting with our scale model that visually explains the situation and our proposal on how to fix it. Contact us at tkcn43@gmail.com. Also, put October 18 on your calendar, when the Planning Commission will probably vote on their recommendation to the City Council.