‘Dear Virginia…’

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Santa Sighting: Mr. Kringle was last seen boarding this chopper for Gitmo. Who will save Christmas?

Holiday Mischief

No Virginia, there is no Santa Claus

By Dean Opperman

In 1898 the New York Sun received a letter from a young reader asking if there was a Santa Claus. Their answer has since become a holiday perennial. Recently, the Bohemian received a similar letter, and we’ve asked Dean Opperman to reply.

Dear Virginia,

The benevolent grandfather figure we call Santa Claus was doing fine until a few years ago. That’s when Enron subsidiary North Pole Energy tripled his electric rates. He was also slammed with a massive increase in his workers’ comp rates, and suddenly Santa’s overhead jumped a whopping 55 percent! Then the SPCA got on his case. Alarmed that Santa was making his reindeer fly to every house in the world in one night, they charged him with cruelty to animals. Hoping to avoid litigation, Santa agreed to spread his deliveries over several weeks, but this meant an increased flight schedule and increased exposure to holes in the ozone layer. As a result, Rudolf got melanoma and had to have his nose removed, which led to Santa being cited by the FAA for flying without warning lights.

Santa was finding it harder to deliver his gifts, too. Most people didn’t have chimneys anymore, so Santa had to figure out ways to get into central heating ducts. Sometimes he couldn’t even get that far. The minute he landed on a roof, motion detectors set off sirens, and in one instance, Santa was zapped by a taser gun, which sent him into cardiac arrest. You might have seen that episode of Cops. But that’s what happens when you walk around in a bright red suit these days–people either think you’re a televangelist or one of the homeless. No wonder the police beat him to within an inch of his life.

When Santa regained consciousness, he was facing unsavory questions about an alleged stocking fetish and his long history of asking children to sit on his lap. Suddenly Santa was the villain du jour on all the talk shows. They blamed him for everything: the Me Generation, expectations of something for nothing . . . They even said he was “Old Europe,” and one pundit implied Santa’s incessant gift-giving sounded suspiciously like welfare.

But hang on to your Ann Coulter doll, Virginia, because it gets worse. It was no secret that the White House had long sought to restructure Santa along “compassionate conservative” lines. The president began talking about “regime change” and secretly advocated a plan to install a new, less personal Santa Claus, one who’d be willing to steal toys from the middle class and give them all to the rich.

The president went before the United Nations to make the case that Santa’s village was really a terrorist camp. He produced documents showing Santa was importing box cutters. He held up rolls of gift wrap he claimed were being used for concealment purposes, and he displayed satellite photos showing white powder all over the village grounds. Then the president claimed it was anthrax and launched a preemptive strike. Poor Santa! He didn’t know his village sat atop the North Sea oil slope.

But the fates were on Santa’s side that night. A massive snowstorm blinded the invaders, providing just enough time for Santa and his helpers to escape. Over 1,000 elves, carefully disguised as members of the bin Laden family, crossed three international borders and made it into Mexico without difficulty. But for Mr. and Mrs. Claus and their eight tiny reindeer, it was a difficult trip. Mustering all his flying skills, Santa evaded Predator missiles by darting through the aurora borealis and down into the ice canyons of Russia, where they hid in a freighter full of suitcase nukes bound for the Americas.

Meanwhile, deep in the jungles of Mexico, Santa was eight days overdue. The leaderless elves had all but given up hope when someone spotted Santa’s battered sleigh on the distant horizon. A great cheer arose when Santa cleared the tops of the coca trees and skidded to a stop on an abandoned CIA airstrip. The elves were so happy, they popped for a trip to Club Med Cancun so Santa could get some rest. In return Santa promised to do what he could to land them 18-cent-per-hour gigs at Wal-Mart’s polo shirt factory in nearby Chiapas.

Back at the White House, political operatives began to see certain advantages to a rehabilitated Santa. They cooked up a scheme to send in a team of paramilitary troopers to rescue him. Along with an embedded press, they stormed Club Med’s aromatherapy center where Santa was undergoing a eucalyptus wrap. Fighting off a cadre of vicious spa workers, the troopers grabbed the old man and brought him back to the states, where he underwent months of brainwashing before being trotted before the cameras on the Fox News channel.

For weeks, the story circulated that Santa had been held against his will by the Cali cartel until rescued by our boys. And now, the whole world watched as Santa was finally allowed to speak. But when he did, he raised a mighty fist and proclaimed the whole thing to be a lie! Yes, Virginia, Santa refused to stick to his script, and in today’s world, that’s bad juju.

The White House had too much invested in the rescue to let the truth emerge. Besides, Santa’s rescue was already the basis of a TV movie depicting the president hacking through jungle underbrush to single-handedly rescue the old man. So the president reached for the hotline to Rupert Murdoch. Immediately, he cut the power to his studios, and Santa was off the air. When the lights came back on a few minutes later, Santa was missing, and now the order went out: Bring back Santa Claus, dead or alive!

Before it was all over, the wily old trickster led federal investigators on a 13-state chase. In the blue states, Santa was an antihero, helped along by grass-roots organizations. In the red states, Santa was vilified by the public, a pariah often forced to choose between food and shelter. Longtime physical maladies like toy-bag elbow and lower GI Joe disturbance returned to plague him. Santa was weak with chest pains from years of free eggnog, and at one point, was almost nabbed in an FBI sting while trying to trade his sleigh for some Lipitor.

The end finally came outside Waco, Texas, when Mrs. Claus gave Santa up for a seven-figure book deal. As federal troops closed in, Santa snapped and drove his sleigh through a mall filled with Christmas shoppers. It was the last time anyone ever saw him alive.

So, Virginia, essentially, there is no Santa Claus, not this year. He’s being held incommunicado in Guantanamo where he’s beyond the help of international law.

And I wouldn’t count too much on Daddy for gifts this year either. He’s strapped with credit-card debt and a second mortgage, so he’s got no money for presents. Your best bet is to start kissing up to your neighborhood right-wing extremist. If you’re nice, he might give you one of those nifty Deck of Fugitives card sets. It has full color pictures of all the evildoers: Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, Tinkerbell, the Great Pumpkin and many others. You’re going to want a set so you can follow all the action as the president mortgages your future to chase down these phantoms wherever they arise.

He hasn’t gotten them all, Virginia, but he’s smoking ’em out of their holes.

From the December 15-21, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

ZodiacKiller.com

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Photograph by R.V. Scheide

Trail Seekers: Angie Avey, Ed Neil and Tom Voigt pose in front of the Redwood Empire Ice Arena, a place that has uncanny resonance with a spate of unsolved murders.

Killers Club

Investigating the North Bay’s most notorious unsolved murders with the cybersleuths at ZodiacKiller.com

By R. V. Scheide

On the Monday before Christmas, Tom Voigt, Ed Neil and Angie Avey will travel to Lake Herman Road on the eastern outskirts of Vallejo to a remote gravel turnout where an unknown assailant shot and killed a high school couple exactly 36 years ago. That attack was just the beginning of a murderous rampage that in the coming months and years would terrify Bay Area residents, capture national and international media attention and defy homicide investigators to this day.

Voigt was just one year old when the murderer who became known as “the Zodiac” first struck. Today, the lanky, bespectacled 37-year-old is the founder of ZodiacKiller.com, a website dedicated to solving the most infamous and longest-running murder mystery in Northern California, one that remains unsolved.

Voigt, a website designer by trade, started the Zodiac site in 1998 after a reenactment of the murders on Unsolved Mysteries piqued his interest. He even relocated from Portland to San Francisco in order to be closer to the Zodiac crime scenes.

Massage therapist Ed Neil, 39, and office manager Angie Avey, 31–from Napa and Calistoga respectively–became fascinated with the Zodiac after absorbing former San Francisco Chronicle political cartoonist Robert Graysmith’s popularized account of the murders, the 1986 true-crime book Zodiac, which for many years was considered the definitive tome on the topic.

Their fascination with the case led them to ZodiacKiller.com, where each separately struck up an e-mail friendship with Voigt.

These days, the threesome spend their spare time pouring over court, police and newspaper records and scouting crime scenes as a hobby along the back roads of the North Bay, where many of the Zodiac’s known and suspected victims were murdered or dumped, seeking clues that might advance movement in a case that has otherwise stalled, if only because of old age. They are on an audacious quest: to discover the identity of a killer whose name has eluded the nation’s sharpest investigative minds for over three decades.

And despite the case’s age, the trio by no means hunt alone. Interest in the Zodiac remains high around the world; Voigt’s website averages as many as 1.5 million hits per month. More than three decades after the killer first struck, his murderous acts continue to exert a tremendous pull on the popular imagination, having been the subject of numerous books, TV series and movies.

Family members of the Zodiac’s victims have e-mailed Voigt to thank him for keeping the investigation going. Amateur sleuths from around the world send him tips and engage in chat-room discussions concerning their favored suspects. Infamous names occasionally crop up: if verified, one tip Voigt received places executed serial killer Ted Bundy in Sonoma County between 1972 and 1973, when the bodies of seven young women were discovered in rural areas just outside of Santa Rosa in a killing spree now known as the Santa Rosa Hitchhiker Murders. At the time, Zodiac hysteria was at its height, and the Sonoma County Sheriff’s Department considered the elusive serial killer a prime suspect.

Most of the young women had been hitchhiking along or near Highway 101. The killer–or killers–preferred strangling the victim and discarding her nude body in rural roadside gullies like so much refuse. The victims ranged from 12 to 22 in age; some were sexually assaulted.

Today, the murderer of those seven young women remains a matter of conjecture, not fact. The case is unsolved.

“It’s all speculation,” explains John Hess, a retired Sonoma County Sheriff’s detective who helped lead the investigation of the Hitchhiker Murders. Hess, now in his 70s, worked dozens of homicide cases during his career, but still recalls the names of each of the seven young women and where they were found. “We could never come up with anything definite,” he says. “It’s hard to say what happened.”

As uncomfortable as that may sound to survivors, it’s the essence of good mystery–the nagging doubt that for Voigt, Neil and Avey is an irresistible force drawing them back to a more innocent time, when couples parked in lovers’ lanes and young women hitchhiked along the Highway 101 corridor without fear, and no one had ever heard of the Zodiac killer or Ted Bundy.

Enigma: Arthur Leigh Allen remained a suspect in the Zodiac case even after his death in 1991.

‘This is the Zodiac speaking’

On July 4, 1969, seven months after slaying the high school couple on Vallejo’s Lake Herman Road, the Zodiac struck a second time, shooting and killing a 22-year-old woman and seriously injuring a 19-year-old man who were romantically parked at the secluded Blue Rock Springs Park outside Vallejo, not far from the scene of the first crime. After the attack, the killer brazenly called the Vallejo Police Department from a payphone just blocks away from the station to inform them of the crime. Less than a month later, the Vallejo Times-Herald, the San Francisco Chronicle and the San Francisco Examiner each received an ominous letter.

“Dear editor,” began the hand-printed missive, replete with numerous misspellings and punctuation errors. “This is the murderer of the 2 teenagers last Christmass at Lake Herman & the girl on the 4th of July near the golf course. To prove I killed them I shall state some facts which only I & the police know.” Indeed, a list of facts known only to the police and the killer was listed, adding veracity to the letter.

On each letter’s back, the killer carefully constructed an intricate cryptogram–each newspaper receiving one-third of the puzzle–that he promised would reveal his true identity if solved. He demanded that the editors of the three papers publish the cryptogram on their front pages the following Friday, or, he promised, he would “cruise around all weekend killing lone people in the night.” After consulting with police, the newspapers decided to publish the cryptogram. A Bay Area couple managed to solve the complex puzzle, and the result was anything but encouraging.

“I like killing people because it is so much fun,” the decoded message read. “It is more fun than killing wild game in the forrest because man is the most dangeroue anamal of all to kill.” The cryptogram offered no clue to the killer’s true identity, as promised. However, in his next letter to the Times-Herald, received Aug. 7, 1969, he used his adopted pseudonym for the first time.

“Dear editor,” the letter began. “This is the Zodiac speaking.” Once again, the writer listed details from the crime scenes that only the killer could know. Explaining how he’d fastened a flashlight to his gun barrel to target his victims at night, he wrote, “When taped to a gun barrel, the bullet will strike exactly in the center of the black dot in the light. All I had to do was spray them.”

In their riveting 2002 study of the Zodiac’s communications with news media and the police, This Is the Zodiac Speaking, authors Michael Kelleher and Sonoma State University psychology professor Dr. David Van Nuys deconstruct the letters in order to construct a profile of the killer.

“What does the use of the article ‘the’ add to the meaning or intent of the message?” writes Van Nuys. “I believe it is an attempt to add importance to the writer. This seems to fit with the writer’s obvious sense of his grandiosity. The writer refers to himself as not merely ‘Zodiac.’ Rather, he is ‘the Zodiac.'”

Kelleher, who spent part of his boyhood in Guernewood Park and once taught criminology courses at SSU, writes that the first letters mark the beginning of the killer’s deadly evolution: “The new element in Zodiac’s evolution into the most enigmatic serial killer in California’s history was simple and inspired: he would confront, embarrass and intimidate the most dangerous prey–his police adversaries.”

The Zodiac indeed was an enigmatic serial killer. Most repeat murderers take great pains to cover their tracks and avoid contact with the authorities. With the Zodiac, police were confronted with a psychopath who openly bragged about his exploits and taunted investigators in the local newspapers. With the first letters, the Zodiac nightmare had truly begun.

On Sept. 27, 1969, the Zodiac struck again, this time in broad daylight. Creeping up on a couple picnicking on a finger of land jutting out into remote Lake Berryessa, roughly a half-hour drive from Vallejo, the killer, brandishing a pistol and dressed in a handmade black executioner’s hood, hogtied his victims with white clothesline and viciously stabbed them. Then, in the same handwriting as the letters, he traced his conquest in the dust on his victims’ car door.

Exactly two weeks later, he struck again, shooting San Francisco cab driver Paul Stine point-blank in the head in the city’s Pacific Heights district and narrowly avoiding police capture by fleeing through the Presidio. To prove he was the culprit, the Zodiac mailed a bloody swatch of Stine’s shirt to the Chronicle three days later along with another letter. This time he threatened to attack a school bus. “Just shoot out the front tire & then pick off the kiddies as they come bouncing out,” he wrote.

Consider now the jagged cultural mosaic the Zodiac quite purposefully inserted himself into, circa 1969: the recent assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy; the Manson Family’s bloody rampage in the Malibu canyons; nationwide student protests against the Vietnam War; and now a murderer without a conscience randomly selecting victims, killing freely at will and taking the time to offer the authorities a critique of their impotence that was published in every major Northern California newspaper. Say you would not be afraid. Or, if you’re old enough to remember the Zodiac killer, say you were afraid.

The school-bus threat, published in local newspapers, sent the Bay Area into a frenzy. Patrol cars escorted school buses on their routes. The Zodiac continued taunting police through letters written to the Chronicle; police responded by lashing out at the killer in newspaper stories about the crimes. In the year that followed the cab driver’s murder, the Chronicle published 16 front-page stories on the Zodiac.

Perhaps the most disturbing letter sent to the Chronicle by the Zodiac came on Nov. 8, 1969. “I have grown rather angry with police for their telling lies about me,” he wrote. “So I shall change the way the collecting of slaves. I shall no longer announce to anyone. They shall look like routine robberies, killings of anger & and a few fake accidents, etc.” The letter was signed with his by now familiar symbol, the circle with crosshairs, the same thing seen when looking through a high-powered rifle’s scope.

“Collecting of slaves” was the concept the Zodiac used to define his grim, murderous project. In letters he would continue to send to newspapers through 1978, he claimed as many as 37 victims. However, it’s not clear that the Zodiac killed anyone after he shot the San Francisco cab driver. In This Is the Zodiac Speaking, Kelleher and Van Nuys fix the number of “known” Zodiac victims at seven–the five people murdered and two people injured in the attacks in Vallejo, Lake Berryessa and San Francisco.

The relatively low body count may come as a surprise to readers of Zodiac Unmasked, Robert Graysmith’s 2002 follow-up to Zodiac. Graysmith makes what initially appears to be a convincing argument that the Zodiac killed far more than five people during the course of his diabolical career, and includes the seven Santa Rosa Hitchhiker Murders in his total.

He even goes so far as to “unmask” Zodiac, claiming him to be Arthur Leigh Allen, a longtime suspect in the case who lived in Vallejo and Santa Rosa, and died of natural causes in 1991.

If Graysmith’s written accounts describing Allen can be trusted, there’s no doubt Allen was an extremely twisted individual with many of the attributes of a textbook serial killer: a history of animal torture; a conviction for child molestation; friends, relatives and therapists who were convinced he was the Zodiac; and a far too detailed knowledge of the case when questioned by police in his Santa Rosa trailer. He even owned an expensive Swiss watch manufactured by Zodiac, whose corporate symbol is a circle with crosshairs. The Zodiac, whoever he was, has been thought to have taken his moniker from this brand of watch. But Allen, who has been dead for 13 years, was never charged with any of the murders, and the mystery remains unresolved.

Interestingly, in Suspect Zero, a novel based on the Santa Rosa Hitchhiker Murders written prior to This Is the Zodiac Speaking, Kelleher creates a fictional killer who very much resembles Arthur Leigh Allen. Yet in Kelleher’s Zodiac Speaking, Allen is dismissed as a suspect in both the Zodiac and the Hitchhiker Murders. When reached by phone at his Washington state home near Mt. St. Helens, Kelleher explained the differences between the two books.

“Never ask a writer to tell you the truth,” he laughs when asked about the resemblance of the fictional villain presented in Suspect Zero to Arthur Leigh Allen. “All writers are nuts, it just comes with the territory.

“The consensus among the Sonoma County Sheriff’s Department is that the Zodiac was not involved in [the Hitchhiker Murders],” he continues, adding that getting information out of the department is difficult, “because they’re super-sensitive to the unsolved nature of the murders and the fact that many of the relatives still live there.”

Allen’s name is mentioned only once in This Is the Zodiac Speaking. “One of the most seriously considered suspects in the case was Arthur Leigh Allen, who many were absolutely convinced was the fugitive killer,” Kelleher writes. “However, Allen was eventually eliminated as a suspect when his fingerprints failed to match those discovered on Paul Stine’s cab.”

Allen also passed a polygraph examination, and six months after Zodiac Unmasked was published in April of 2002, DNA test results on a stamp from one of the Zodiac’s letters failed to match Allen’s.

“Allen was essentially cleared through DNA testing,” Voigt says, yet he and Neil still consider Allen a Zodiac suspect, at least for the so-called known killings, if not the Santa Rosa Hitchhiker Murders. In the not-so-distant past, investigators were convinced that the killers were one and the same.

Sad Searching: At the Franz Valley Road location where two victims of the HitchhikerMurders were found.

The Bundy Connection

In 1975, Sonoma County Sheriff Don Striepeke and Sgt. Butch Carstedt still considered the Zodiac killer a prime suspect in the Hitchhiker Murders. Inviting newspapers from around the state to a Santa Rosa press conference, Striepeke reported that 30 to 40 young women had been recently murdered in six Western states, including Washington, Idaho, Utah, Colorado and California. Furthermore, there were amazing similarities between the cases. All of the victims had been young, attractive women. When laid out on a map, the killer’s path resembled a giant sideways “Z” covering the Western United States.

The murders could all be the work of the same killer, Striepeke and Carstedt suggested, and the most likely suspect was the Zodiac. At the time, they had no way of knowing that one man was indeed responsible for nearly all of the murders on the northern part of the “Z,” located outside of California. That man was Ted Bundy.

It’s not too difficult to imagine Tom Voigt’s excitement when he received an e-mail in 2002 from a woman named Deborah who now lives in the Midwest and claims that during the time of the Hitchhiker Murders she worked at a now-defunct Sonoma County manufacturing company called Electro Vector located in Forestville.

Voigt was already familiar with the late Streipeke’s theory, thanks to Neil’s penchant for tireless newspaper research. He already knew that almost all of the victims on the northern part of Striepeke’s “Z” had been attributed to Ted Bundy. And here was Deborah claiming that, for several months in 1972, working right beside her at Electro Vector, looking precisely like the mug shot that by 1976 would be plastered all over national TV, was none other than Ted Bundy.

If there is any serial killer who rivals the Zodiac in the public’s imagination, it’s Bundy. Between 1972 and 1978, he cut a bloody swathe of murder and mayhem through Washington, Utah, Colorado and Florida. His known victims, all young women, number more than 30; he is suspected in dozens of more unsolved murders. When the handsome, charming law student, after successful escapes from jails in Utah and Colorado, was finally apprehended in Florida in 1978, he was asked to estimate how many women he had killed–one figure, two figures or three figures? Bundy held up three fingers, according to authors Stephen Michaud and Hugh Aynesworth’s 1983 book The Only Living Witness.

Michaud and Aynesworth interviewed Bundy on the Florida State Penitentiary’s death row, where he was awaiting execution for killing two college co-eds and a 12-year-old girl in that state. In addition to interviewing Bundy, the authors traced the killer’s footsteps across the United States while his trail was still relatively warm. The path led them to Northern California, where Bundy attended classes at Stanford University in Palo Alto in 1968 before dropping out.

The only other evidence the authors could find placing Bundy in the state was a 1973 flight from Seattle to San Francisco. Bundy had flown down to reconcile with a former girlfriend, a San Francisco socialite who had dumped him after he washed out at Stanford. Bundy was able to charm her once again, and the couple became engaged. Then Bundy flew back to Seattle and dumped her. Not long after that, young women began disappearing in the Seattle area.

In other books written about the case, most notably Anne Rule’s Stranger Beside Me (1980), Bundy’s failed Northern California relationship is seen as a possible catalyst for the murderous rampage that ensued. Bundy chose victims who resembled his former girlfriend, his ideal: young, pretty college co-eds with long hair parted down the middle, as was the fashion of the time. When photographs of Bundy’s known victims are placed side-by-side with pictures of the Santa Rosa Hitchhiker Murder victims, it’s as if they all could be sisters. That’s why the mystery that remains even after Bundy’s 1989 execution is whether the killing started in 1973 or sometime earlier.

Dr. Robert Keppel, who led the Bundy investigation in Seattle and has since gone on to become one of the world’s foremost experts on serial-killer investigation, has long believed Bundy started much sooner than 1973. Keppel, now president of the Institute for Forensics at Sam Houston University in Huntsville, Texas, spent hours interviewing Bundy in prison, right up until the very end, when the serial killer took his seat in the electric chair infamously called “Old Sparky.” As detailed in the 1995 book The Riverman, co-written by Keppel and William Birnes, Bundy promised to reveal the location of all his victims in an effort to stay his execution. Investigators from a half-dozen Western states, including one from Sonoma County, flocked to Florida.

True to form, Bundy gave investigators virtually nothing. Nevertheless, Keppel remains convinced that Bundy is a viable suspect for at least some of the Santa Rosa Hitchhiker Murders.

Could Bundy really have been the killer? “Oh, it’s definitely possible,” Keppel responds by phone from his university office. “Who else would have done something like that? We wanted to talk to Bundy about these before the execution.”

After the execution, Keppel met with Sonoma County Sheriff’s Lt. Mike Brown and others familiar with the Hitchhiker Murders to compare notes. Bundy was an avid driver, and covered as much as 600 miles a day during the commission of his crimes. Keppel had obtained virtually all of Bundy’s credit card records, making it possible to pin down the killer’s location on various dates.

“We did a lot of comparing of notes, but we could never hook him,” Keppel says. “We couldn’t prove that he was on those [Northern California] roads–but we couldn’t prove that he wasn’t, either.”

Over the years, Keppel has continued to be amazed at the interest otherwise ordinary people have in serial-murder cases. Although he never directly investigated the Zodiac killings, he’s received hundreds of phone calls about the case over the years. In that sense, he doesn’t find the existence of ZodiacKiller.com all that odd.

“It’s amazing to me how there are enthusiasts who get hooked on it; my students get hooked on it,” he says. “Most of them are female. I think there’s a safety factor involved, they want to know what mistakes the women made to get captured.” Yet still, even after Bundy’s monstrosities were revealed, some female students continue to have an unhealthy interest in the killer. “He was good looking, wanted to be a lawyer, smooth talking. People are looking out for safety, but at the same time, they like the way the guy looked.”

Informed about ZodiacKiller.com’s Electro Vector tip, Keppel is skeptical.

“We never had any evidence whatsoever that Bundy worked in the place you describe,” he says. “It’s more logical that he made trips to Palo Alto to visit his girlfriend at the time. No way was he working down there.”

In This Is the Zodiac Speaking, retired Sonoma County Sheriff’s Capt. Mike Brown tells Kelleher that Bundy remains a suspect in at least two or three of the Santa Rosa Hitchhiker Murders.

“I have one source close to the investigation who likes Bundy for the crime,” Kelleher says. “That was his one-beer opinion. His six-beer opinion was, ‘I don’t know who the fuck did it.'”

Kelleher, who places Bundy low on the hitchhiker suspect list, is also skeptical of the Elector Vector tip. He and Voigt have exchanged e-mails, and the successful crime writer finds the ZodiacKiller.com website interesting and sometimes even useful. “If that tip turns out to be substantive, I’d be more inclined to take a look at it,” Kelleher says. “[Voigt] gets sent some incredible bullshit, but every once in a while he comes up with a real gem.”

Mirror Image: The Zodiac used cryptograms like this one to taunt authorities and confuse the public.

Zynchronicity

On an overcast November afternoon, Voigt, Neil and Avey stand outside a chain link fence surrounding a gray, dilapidated industrial warehouse complex near downtown Forestville. A faded wooden sign hanging on the fence still reads “Electro Vector.” Like the search for the hitchhiker murderer, the buildings have lain dormant for decades. But just seeing the business mentioned in the e-mail tip is encouraging. Voigt, who has never really been all that interested in Bundy, is excited.

“I’m in it for the mystery,” he says. “I’m not really interested in guys who’ve been caught. But if Bundy lived here for even three months, that’s 50 or more unsolved murders at least. It would be the biggest unsolved murder case in years.”

For the time being, the Electro Vector tip remains unproven. But in one of those strange coincidences that seem to hover around serial-killer cases like bees around a hive, it’s just a short 10-minute ride from Forestville to the Redwood Empire Ice Arena, where the two 12-year-old girls who were the first victims of the Santa Rosa Hitchhiker Murders were last seen in February 1972.

Voigt, Neil and Avey call such coincidences “zynchronicities.” Case in point: the circular window with crosshairs in the Charles M. Schulz Museum next to the skating rink resembles the Zodiac’s famous symbol exactly. Inside the skating rink, z‘s are everywhere, the z in the Zamboni machine cleaning the ice, the z in “Peanuts” cartoonist Charles Schulz’s surname. “Ice skating is an inherently dangerous sport, all skaters assume their own risk and injury,” states a plaque on the wall. Zynchronicity is in the air.

It’s still in the air as the threesome drive up Calistoga Road, past the summit where the Hitchhiker Murderer’s fifth victim, a 13-year-old girl, was found dumped in November 1972. The next stop is a heavily wooded area off Franz Valley Road, where the skeletal remains of the two girls last seen at the skating rink were found in December 1972, 10 months after they had disappeared.

The body count was up to five by then, and local law-enforcement officials openly proclaimed they had a serial killer on their hands. As Keppel notes in his 2003 textbook The Psychology of Serial Killer Investigations, making such public admissions is by no means easy for police departments, particularly those without the resources to fund the type of robust investigation required to catch a serial killer. Because the serial killer generally operates alone and chooses strangers for victims, he is more difficult to detect. Often, Keppel notes, police are placed in the uncomfortable position of waiting for the killer to strike again in order to collect new evidence.

Two more bodies turned up the following year in Santa Rosa. Then the killings stopped. The investigation, however, continued for years.

“As I recall, it was an intensive investigation,” says John Hess, the retired Sonoma County Sheriff’s detective who personally investigated all of the Hitchhiker Murder crime scenes. Investigators were sent to other jurisdictions to compare similar crimes. “We had five or six detectives working on the cases. We worked them all as long as we could, as long as we had leads.”

Although the Sonoma County Sheriff’s department still considers the case open, it has advanced little in recent years. Knowing that someone got away with the murder of seven young women isn’t an easy thing for most law-enforcement officials to accept.

“You’re always frustrated, because you’re committed to solving crimes, especially the murders, the more heinous crimes,” says Hess. “You just the do the best you can do, and if you’re satisfied that you did your best, you have to turn it over to God.”

Case Closed?

Last April, the San Francisco Police Department announced it was closing the Zodiac investigation. Most people probably read about it in the Chronicle, but Voigt got the story first and posted it on ZodiacKiller.com a week before it hit the mainstream papers. The website has become, in Neil’s words, “the center of the Zodiac universe,” and both he and Voigt have consulted with various true-crime television series and are even the subject of a European documentary film.

Like most web-based communities, those who frequent ZodiacKiller.com share a common, albeit somewhat unusual interest: in their case, solving one of northern California’s oldest mysteries. If Voigt, Neil and Avey are successful at cracking either the Zodiac or Hitchhiker Murders, it will be a first, and that’s what keeps their juices flowing, no matter how unlikely it may be.

“The problem is, it’s never been done,” says Keppel, who’s investigated and consulted on more than 50 serial-killer investigations, including Ted Bundy, the Atlanta Child Murders and Seattle’s Green River Murders. “I’ve never heard of a cold case being solved by someone who just has an avid interest in it.”

Such talk does not deter Vogt, Neil and Avey. After visiting the Franz Valley Road crime scene, they drive to the Santa Rosa cemetery where the two 12-year-olds, the first victims of the Santa Rosa Hitchhiker Murders, are laid to rest. It’s been an interesting day investigating crime, but now it’s time to reflect on their primary goal: to do anything to advance the search for their killer.

The silence of two little girls who were sometimes known to hitchhike is deafening.

From the December 15-21, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Christmas Jug Band

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Photograph by Mark Keller

Naughty and Nice: The Christmas Jug Band are comin’ to town.

Holiday Hijinks

Into the spirit with the Christmas Jug Band

By Greg Cahill

Blame it on the nation’s Bicentennial. Bassist Tim Eschliman’s brother decided to celebrate the occasion by sending his sibling a Wild Turkey whiskey commemorative decanter, a God-awful ceramic jug of 80-proof joy juice emblazoned with red, white and blue banners draped over a bird.

“After I got the decanter, I called up a couple of friends and invited them to come over on Monday nights and polish it off,” recalls Eschliman, a fixture on the North Bay music scene thanks, in part, to his role as the de facto leader of the irreverent Christmas Jug Band. “We used to sit around with Greg and Nick Dewey, and Paul Wenninger–who was Van Morrison’s road manager–and get drunk and play this really hokey backwoods Appalachian stuff. We had a washboard and harmonica and everything.

“It was fun, but it got to be a bit much after 10 Mondays of Wild Turkey and Bud.”

Rather than opt for sobriety, the ragtag jug band took their rustic acoustic grooves to the streets of Mill Valley. “We’d just show up on street corners and play until the cops came,” recalls Eschliman, now a Petaluma resident. “We never thought of it as something where you would get a gig and play. We just did it for fun and invited Dan Hicks and a few others from the neighborhood.”

By happenstance, the musicians stumbled their way into a lucky break. Hicks, who had attained national celebrity in the ’70s with his old-timey group Dan Hicks and the Hot Licks, hosted an open mic at the now defunct Marin County nightspot the Old Mill Tavern. Audiences came to hear not the music but Hicks’ wry commentary on the acts. One December night in 1977, with Hicks out of town, Eschliman and his jug band sat in and performed a set of twisted Christmas songs between the various amateur acts. “I remember that the club owner, Mark Cushman, said, ‘Hey, that was kind of fun. Why don’t you put on a Christmas Eve show?'” Eschliman recalls.

Twenty-seven years later, this one-off joke has become a Bay Area institution, with four campy albums to their credit and a full slate of holiday shows for local musicians more accustomed to scrambling for paying gigs.

“In the beginning, we made a pact that we would never sell it out or try to make any money because it was just too much fun,” says Eschliman, who spends the rest of the year playing with the R&B band Rhythmtown Jive, the Lost Planet Airmen and various pickup gigs. “It was meant to be comic relief from the serious bands that we’re all involved in.”

It turns out that comic relief is a much sought-after commodity. In 1987, Eschliman and his pals decided to record the band. “We figured we’d make a few cassettes for our kids,” he says. But Robin Cohen, owner of the San Rafael independent records distributor City Hall Records, caught wind of the tape and arranged to release a vinyl version. That recording soon caught the ear of the folks at Relix Records, who jumped at the chance to reissue the CD version the following year.

Since then, the debut album has sold over 10,000 copies, more than any of the “serious” side projects the Christmas Jug Band members have been involved in. “I think the lesson is that people appreciate things that aren’t so darned serious coming from musicians,” Eschliman says.

The Christmas Jug Band have seen their share of strange gigs, but one of the most eccentric was playing the half-time show at the long-forgotten Toilet Bowl, a friendly sandlot football game and charity fundraiser between patrons of the 2AM Club and the Brothers Tavern in Mill Valley. “We came up with a marching jug band formation: a martini glass with the bass drum player in the place of the olive,” Eschliman recalls. “It was a blast.”

The Christmas Jug Band perform three North Bay gigs, beginning Saturday, Dec. 18, at the Raven Theater in Healdsburg; Sunday, Dec. 19, at the Rancho Nicasio; and Wednesday, Dec. 22-23, at Sweetwater in Mill Valley. For details, visit www.christmasjugband.com.

 

From the December 15-21, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Briefs

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Briefs

Nursing Arnold

People just love Republican Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger–especially California’s nurses! At the Governor’s Conference on Women and Children in Long Beach last week, the foot-in-mouth-inator bragged that nurses protesting his recent unilateral rollback of safe nursing staff ratios were “special interests” who were “angry because I kick their butts everyday.” The California Nurses Association (CNA) immediately fired back. “For the governor to denigrate nurses–a historically female profession–while speaking to an audience of women is an affront to women everywhere,” said Rose Ann De Moro, CNA’s executive director. Speaking of special interests, Arnold may want to check his own fundraising coffers, which have swelled some $26 million his first year in office–including $1.7 million received from the healthcare and pharmaceutical industry, according to the Foundation for Taxpayers and Consumer Rights, the Southern California-based consumer watchdog organization.

Count North Bay In

Think globally, act nationally–that’s become the credo of a cadre of North Bay activists seeking a recount of last November’s presidential election results. On Dec.10, Eve Roberson, a retired election official from Santa Rosa, and Joan Quinn, a former criminal research attorney from Sacramento, had just uncovered evidence suggesting that the student vote was intentionally suppressed in Greene County, Ohio, when a county election official seized the records, claiming they are no longer public information by order of Secretary of State Kenneth Blackwell. “It is reasonable to infer that the student vote was suppressed, and that warrants an investigation,” says Quinn.

Trailer Trashed

Residents of the Riverside Villa Mobile Home Park in Healdsburg were sued for defamation last week by Carole Mascherini, the park’s owner, when they refused to cease a boycott against Garrett Hardware, also owned by Mascherini. At issue are recent rent increases at the park that may force some residents to relocate. Mascherini told the Healdsburg Tribune that the increases “are intended only to recover increased costs in property taxes and insurance,” but at the Dec. 6 Healdsburg City Council meeting, Dia Misuraca, one of the residents named in the suit, disagreed. “These residents are being forced to pay taxes on almost a million dollars worth of property that they aren’t allowed to use,” she said. The city council will discuss the legality and feasibility of a rent freeze for mobile-home owners on Dec. 20.

From the December 15-21, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

The Byrne Report

The Byrne Report

Ready or Not

I RECEIVED THIS LETTER from “Worried North Bay Neoconservative who Wishes to Remain Anonymous.”

Dear Peter,

Your snide column last week about Tom Ridge’s supposed conflicts of interest horrified me more than Osama bin Laden ever did. Do you think that just because you live in left-wing Marin County or cow-poop-stinky Sebastopol, or are socially registered in Napa Valley that you are terrorist-proof? Living the good life here in the North Bay, it is easy to forget that someone might want to poison the drinking water in Novato, or drop tularemia spores onto the Luther Burbank Center from a hot air balloon, or wither all the grape vines in St. Helena with a mutant Round-up Ready gene.

I know that, aside from us decent folks, the North Bay is infested with greedy trial lawyers; salaried socialists; Wicca-leaning anarchists; atheist-leaning Presbyterians; nonmarried, non-Christian, nonstraight co-habitués; and hemp-wearing “progressives” who get all dewy-eyed about the kill-ratio in Iraq. (For chrissake, when are those people going to surrender?) But even bohemians need to think about what they are going to do when the likes of John Walker Lindh gets out on parole and invites some of his Taliban friends over for a barbecue in downtown Mill Valley.

If you can put your tofu dog down for a second, Peter, I advise you to pick up the Valley Yellow Pages. Under H you will find a two-page color announcement sponsored by the Department of Homeland Security. Superimposed on our nation’s flag, the truth is revealed: “Terrorism forces us to make a choice. We can be afraid. Or we can be ready.”

The question I have for you and your readers is: Are you ready to be afraid? You are a lot less safe then you think, living in your la-la land, laughing at the color codes. Last year Mr. Ridge said that terrorists are certain to unleash a weapon of mass destruction, soon, very soon, maybe tomorrow, probably around dawn. Better get ready, don’t you think? Make out a will, put in some prescriptions, oil up your gun and stay far, far away from the fleshpots of San Francisco.

But what I am really afraid of, Peter, is that the Bush administration is moving too far to the left. A couple of weeks ago, the normally sensible American Enterprise Institute, a very powerful neoconservative think-tank in Washington, D.C., actually slandered Mr. Ridge, just like you did. A few days later, he was unceremoniously canned!

This newly renegade institute claims that inducing paranoia in the masses is a poor terrorism-fighting strategy. “The scale of terrorism risks might seem to be small relative to the attention they command,” the AEI lied. “For instance, 3,029 people died in the U.S. from terrorist attack in 2001. During that same year, 156,005 people died from lung cancer and 44,091 from automobile accidents. . . . Media coverage of terrorism . . . creates circumstances wherein people are likely to overestimate risks . . . magnify[ing] the terrorist threat.”

As you know, Peter, one of terror’s main weapons is the irrational fear it causes before it acts. Obviously, the AEI is not rational, not afraid of the right things and too afraid of the wrong things. Furthermore, it is fueling the wrong kind of mass fear–irrational fear–by criticizing the government.

It is not giving real fear a chance to grow naturally.

Despite Mr. Ridge’s preparations, the North Bay is in terrible danger. And I can prove it.

The folks at Risk Management Solutions say that terror groups usually abide by principles of proportionate violence and cost-benefit. Nice academic touch there! In other words, Peter, they are smart and ready, even if you and your commie editor are not.

Here is the kicker for the North Bay. Risk Management Solutions predicts that “as military and government targets increase their protection levels, softer targets, such as economic and commercial targets, become more attractive.” Consequently, the surest way to drive a terrorist to attack the outlet mall in Petaluma, the Pacific movie theaters in Rohnert Park, the Swiss Hotel in Sonoma–or, Lord God, this is awful–the innocent bedroom communities of Healdsburg and Cloverdale, is to harden the security of military bases, government offices and trophy buildings in San Francisco. And they are hard. Sweet Jesus, are they hard.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not questioning the wisdom of the Department.

I am just pointing out, Peter, that every time a terrorist sees those cop cars parked near the Golden Gate Bridge, he will just keep on driving north–until he finds people who are not ready.

From the December 15-21, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Tolay Lake Park

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Photo Courtesy of Friends of Tolay

Hawkish: A white-tailed kite takes brief respite from the hunt at Tolay Lake Ranch.

Park Place

With enough money on the board, Tolay Lake Park will become a reality

By Jordan E. Rosenfeld

Imagine a place somewhere between Marin and Sonoma counties with a bird’s eye view of San Pablo Bay and its local tributaries as they snake down to empty their waters into its estuary. With just a sweep of the head, the Golden Gate Bridge, Mt. Diablo and Mt. Tamalpais come into view against a panorama of more than 1,700 acres of pristine land, complete with a lake and trails spread out like a William Turner landscape.

This place exists, but not yet for the public. Known as Tolay Lake Ranch, it straddles Petaluma and Sonoma, and its proponents–the Sonoma County Open Space District and Sonoma County Regional Parks–are sprinting toward an April 30 deadline to raise a total of $9 million in public and private funds to secure the property and create what would be the second largest park in the county.

Renee Tolliver, campaign chair for the private fundraising effort, which seeks to raise $1.5 million of the $9 million total, says the race to meet the deadline will probably be close.

“I wouldn’t have taken the job if I thought it was impossible,” she says, stressing that time is of the essence. “The timeline is short, but there is a lot of public support. I think it’s doable, but we need to get folks mobilized.”

Since the 1940s, the 1,737-acre ranch has been owned by the Cardoza family, who open the gates to their popular pumpkin farm every October to some 30,000 visitors.

Long before the Cardozas owned the property, though, the original lake Tolay–which has since been dynamited and drained–gave the stretch of Petaluma between Highway 37 and Adobe Road its nickname of “Lakeville.”

The Cardoza family and the Open Space District have discussed the idea of optioning the property for years. The property has been appraised at $21 million, but the Cardozas offered it to the county for $18 million, preferring to see the land preserved in their lifetime rather than chopped up into hundreds of tiny ranches when succeeding generations inherit the property rights.

Last April, the plan came one step closer to reality when the Sonoma County Board of Supervisors, which also serves as the Sonoma County Agricultural Preservation and Open Space District’s board of directors, pledged $9 million toward the $18 million price tag, securing an option to preserve the Cardoza property, restore its lake and turn it into a regional park.

“We’ve been here for 30 years,” says Rita Cardoza, noting that her husband, Marvin, “was born and raised here. Some of the family members who have a stake in this property are getting older. We knew that time would change things. We even tried to buy out all other family members, but it wasn’t feasible, so we decided to give the county a chance.”

But with that chance comes a high price and a shrinking window of opportunity.

The formal fundraising effort is shared by the Open Space District and the Regional Parks Department. Glen Price Group has been contracted to secure $7.5 million in public grants. Joining Tolliver in the local effort to raise $1.5 million in private funding are the Friends of Tolay, a grassroots volunteer group.

“It’s the smallest portion of the total, but it’s the most labor-intensive portion,” Tolliver explains, adding that developing relationships with local philanthropists “requires a lot of help from volunteers.”

The effort has already received one serious setback, however, when the California Cultural Heritage Endowment declined to approve a $5 million grant for the acquisition.

“We believe the property is significant enough to qualify as a statewide, if not national, historic site,” saysPhillip Sales, park planner for Sonoma County Regional Parks, referring to the trove of Native American artifacts–including rare “charm stones” found on the property–some of which date back 4,000 years. A number of these stone artifacts are now on display at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C.

Supervisor Mike Kearns, business owners, city council members and the public turned out in force at the Petaluma Sheraton on Dec. 8 to kick off a formal “capital campaign.” Matt White, president of Basin Street Properties, delivered a hefty $100,000 donation, and according to Friends of Tolay program director David Yearsley, this is only the beginning of a serious ratcheting-up of the fundraising effort.

The Regional Parks Department is ready to hit the ground running if the matching funds are generated. A recent design meeting, open to the public, allowed officials and citizens to brainstorm the park’s future.

“We got suggestions for everything from archery and shooting ranges to recreational uses for the lake, all the way to leaving things in their natural condition,” Sales chuckles.

Environmentalists are also likely to be pleased with increased access to the area’s diverse flora and fauna. Fresh water from Tolay Creek draws a number of different species to the area, including the burrowing owl, red-legged frog, Northwestern pond turtle, golden eagle and the horned lark.

Rita Cardoza feels strongly about leaving a lasting legacy that everyone can enjoy.

“This property is going to be here forever, and that’s a pretty important legacy to be able to leave. I’d like to be able to sit on the ridge with my grandchildren and say, ‘This was your great-grandparents’ home,'” she says, her voice tinged with emotion. “You realize as time passes that you really are just blips on the radar screen. Things are changing quickly, and ordinary people are going to need places like this to be.”

From the December 15-21, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Swirl n’ Spit

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Swirl n’ Spit
Tasting Room of the Week

Thumbprint Cellars

By Heather Irwin

Lowdown: Thumbprint is all about having fun and raising your glass in a funky, comfy, lounge environment. Plop your rear in a plush, overstuffed sofa, and toast to the good life. Located just off the Healdsburg square, Thumbprint’s tiny wine lounge opened just this month with a kicked-back style that’s a refreshing departure for the sometimes stuffy vibe often happening around town.

Run by a local couple who started the wine business out of their garage, wife Erica Lindstrom-Dake works the tasting room most days, and is happy to chat about the wines, the business or pretty much whatever else is going on. The bottlings at this artisanal winery are exceptionally small, with 300 or fewer cases of most of their varietals, so if you like something, stock up. If you’re the first customer of the day, she’ll open whatever wines you’re pining for. Which makes drinking at 11am all the more fun.

Mouth value: Calling its output “micro-wines,” Thumbprint has a lock on Pinot Noirs, garnering a Best Pinot Noir accolade for its 2001 Russian River Pinot ($32) from Bohemian readers and a gold medal at the Sonoma County Harvest Fair for its 2002 Russian River Pinot ($36) this year. Start out with the ’02, a bright, briary smack of a wine. Still young, the fruit kicks out most of the notes, but don’t let the nose drive you away. Despite a little funky barnyard smell (normal in many Pinots), the taste is pure cherry and raspberry. The ’01 Russian River Pinot ($36) is a more Burgundian-style wine with more earth and tannin. The oak has had time to mellow more, giving it a smokier, more mature stature. The ’02 Sonoma County Cabernet Franc ($35) was a surprise favorite with a lovely fruit nose and layers of cocoa and fruit with plenty of high notes on the finish. Unlike many other wineries, Thumbprint isn’t afraid of fruit. All of its wines are brazenly fruit-forward with only a nod to oak. This leads to better aging, with the fruit mellowing gracefully into a ripe wine, rather than big oaky monstrosities that age into musty old farts. The ’02 Ladi’s Vineyard Cabernet ($27) from the new Bennett Valley appellation has the depth and complexity of a good Cab with the easy drinkability of their signature fruit-forward flavors.

Five-second snob: Owners Erica and Scott Lindstrom-Dake are vegetarians, which is why you’ll find most of their wine pairing suggestions with things like “nut loaf” and tofu. At last, a great wine to pair with Tofurky! The thumbprint you’ll find on the bottles belongs to Scott, who accidentally smeared his finger on an early bottle after writing in gold ink and liked the results. He still marks each bottle individually.

Spot: Thumbprint Cellars Tasting Lounge, 36 North St., Healdsburg, 707.433.2393. No tasting fee. Open daily, 11am to 6pm.

From the December 15-21, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Christmas Music

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Soul-a-delic: Minnie Riperton’s Age of Aquarius sound adds to ‘Peace.’

Santa Sounds

Songs of joy that don’t annoy

By Sara Bir

Around this time of year, the San Francisco-based radio station KFRC switches from its regular uninspired oldies format to a Christmas-heavy format featuring highly annoying holiday songs from all eras. “Feliz Navidad,” “Nuttin’ for Christmas” and “All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth” may qualify as the most ear-grating Christmas songs of all time, and thanks to KFRC, you can hear each one at least three times an hour.

KFRC is, of course, only one of thousands of guilty parties ruining everybody’s holiday cheer by blasting the worst music December has to offer. My workplace is a culprit, too; a co-worker playfully crafted a mix CD to create a “Santa’s workshop” feel in the store, and she fiendishly included Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera songs. As if Christmastime retail is not taxing enough without having those two in the mix! We want to sell things, not drive people away.

I decided to retaliate. Christmas music isn’t bad; it’s simply that overexposure has rendered many previously tolerable Christmas songs intolerable (Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime” anyone?). We, the public, must take Christmas music back. There are innumerable bands in the world, and thus innumerable piles of songs devoted to the winter season. Why stick with Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” on endless replay? It turns out that practically every musician and music group that you’d never expect to record a Christmas song–including Ween, My Morning Jacket, the Sonics, Snoop Doggy Dogg, Spinal Tap and one of those naughty dudes from 2 Live Crew–have in fact all recorded Christmas songs, if not entire Christmas albums.

The glitch is that a lot of pop-oriented Christmas records kind of suck, and many of the best ones (A Christmas Gift to You from Phil Spector, A Charlie Brown Christmas) deserve a much-needed break from holiday overexertion. For my own sanity, I sent Vince Guaraldi and the Ronettes on vacation and recruited some overlooked troops from St. Nick’s back catalog. Here’s a scattershot sampling of old chestnuts to roast over your open fire:

‘Cool Crazy Christmas,’ Homer & Jethro

Homer & Jethro were accomplished musicians of Nashville’s golden era who cultivated a career parodying popular songs, usually by making references to ugly women. My old man loves Homer & Jethro, and I purchased this album as a present for him, mostly because I knew I’d be spending my holidays in safety thousands of miles away from Dad’s musical Christmas rotation. But then I listened to this album, and it’s actually pretty good. In H & J’s world, Frosty the Snowman melts, Santa gets too drunk to pilot his sleigh and Homer’s old girlfriend gets decked out with ornaments quite unlike those on the tree.

‘Peace,’ Rotary Connection

A multiracial collective of musicians, featuring Minnie Riperton’s electrifying vocal range and the grandiose orchestral arrangements of Charles Stepney, Rotary Connection released a number of sadly underrated and very groovy albums, including a Christmas one in 1968, with mostly original compositions save for three versions of “Silent Night.” There’s plenty of trippy, funky, soul-a-delic stuff here, extolling brotherhood and equality in a happenin’ late-’60s fashion that’s peppered with passing mentions of a Christmas child. Sort of ridiculous, but isn’t most Christmas music? Definitely worth the $2.99 I paid for this record.

‘The American Song-Poem Christmas: Daddy, Is Santa Really Six Foot Four?’ Various Artists

On the heels of 2002’s delightful American Song-Poem Anthology came this collection of lyrics penned by hopeful (and often slightly cuckoo) would-be songwriters of the ’60s and ’70s who paid recording services to set their words to immortal music. The result is crushingly screwy (“Santa Came on a Nuclear Missile,” “Santa Fix My Toys for Christmas”) but surprisingly catchy, as the musicians who laid them to tape include such song-poem luminaries as the legendary Rodd Keith and Gene Marshall. Most reviews of this disc claim that its irony factor goes through the roof, but I disagree. The American Song-Poem Christmas packs more heartbreaking sincerity than the Christmas albums of Clay Aiken, Jewel and Mariah Carey combined.

From the December 15-21, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Christmas Geese

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Goose Grrrl

Learning to master the goose, grease and all

By Gretchen Giles

Dickensian in the collective American imagination, the Christmas goose is usually thought of as hanging, bloodless and white-feathered, in a quaint shop window, or brought steaming to the table amid the clapping hands of a restored Tiny Tim. While a goose was certainly a luxury, it was not a foodstuff to strike fear into a cook’s heart.

In our brittle modern times, few of us entertain this bird outside of imagination’s realm for one main reason: the fat. While goose actually has less fat per pound than lamb or beef, and what copious amounts it does have are richer in mono-unsaturated (good) than saturated (bad) fats, visions of an oven raging with a grease fire tend to stoke most chefly enthusiasms in favor of the humble ham, the smaller duck or the knowable turkey.

Petaluma farmer Sylvia Mavalwalla would beg to differ. While she herself won’t be cooking this Christmas–it’s one of her busiest days of the year–her daughter-in-law will be roasting a goose, one of Mavalwalla’s geese, as the family often does. Establishing S&B Farms with her husband Bajun some 17 years ago, Mavalwalla now raises one of the few flocks of so-called heritage geese left in the United States. Native to North America, the American Buff goose thrives on Mavalwalla’s west Petaluma farm, but the 64 birds she sells each year are fortunate offspring. The international Slow Food organization estimates that there are only 1,000 breeding pairs of this goose left in the world.

Whether heritage or no, goose is one of the few meats that isn’t factory-farmed, is protected by law from being fed growth hormones and is only treated with antibiotics when it’s actually sick, as giving medicine to a goose–a difficult task, to be sure–doesn’t improve its appetite.

Since being acclaimed by the Slow Food movement last year, Mavalwalla can’t keep enough American Buff geese in stock for the demand. Her flock was sold out this year by the second week in September; in previous years, she’d just now begin taking orders. Surprising to some suburban ears, most of the ducks, chickens and turkeys that Mavalwalla sells leave the farm alive.

“The Hispanic and Asian people are not into old dead food,” Mavalwalla says, noting that many of her Latino customers have told her that they feed a bird whiskey before slaughtering it. “They say it tastes different,” she smiles. “It goes out happy.”

As for cooking the bird, Mavalwalla shrugs, “I don’t think that it’s any more difficult than a turkey, although I put the turkey in a closed pan. For the goose, you put it on a broiler-type pan so that there is plenty of space for the grease to drip down.”

Ah, the grease. Always the grease. But once one has a plan for handling steaming rivers of goose fat, everything else is as easy as putting a bird in the oven until it’s cooked. Of utmost importance, cautions Mavalwalla, is to first scoop out by hand all of the visible fat and set it aside. “People from European countries render it down and use it in place of butter,” she says, explaining that it has a “clean taste.” She keeps her rendered fat cooled for use in frying potatoes and other root vegetables.

Next, prick the bird’s skin all over–without damaging the meat–so that there are plenty of conduits for the melting fat to pour forth from. Some chefs like to quickly blanche the bird for a few minutes in boiling water at this point or to leave the bird uncovered in the refrigerator for a few days. Both methods “tighten” the skin and help to crisp it when cooked.

Once the bird is washed, patted dry and pricked, it can be treated like a turkey or overweight chicken. All of the meat, even the breast, is dark, and goose has a chewier, firmer consistency than turkey, which may be fairly mushy given commercial breeding. Most recipes suggest starting with an oven as hot as 475 degrees for the first 15 minutes and then roasting at 350, figuring 25 minutes per pound, until the juices run clear or an internal meat thermometer registers at least 170 degrees.

Begin cooking the bird breast-side up and flip half-way through (wearing clean rubber gloves may aid the flipping), and, if necessary, pour off the fat. Curiously, Mavalwalla assures that “the more you baste it, the more grease it will pull out.”

But don’t get fanatical. As Mavalwalla sagely says, “If you don’t have fat in the goose, it’s no good.”

Oliver’s Market in Cotati is the only retailer of Mavalwalla’s remaining Embden birds, which can be preordered fresh through the market’s butcher counter. S&B Farms, 125 Lynch Road, Petaluma. 707.763.4793. Oliver’s Market, 546 E. Cotati Ave., Cotati. 707.795.9501.

Ready, Set, Roast!

This recipe, adapted from Gourmet magazine, has gotten raves for the port gravy that accompanies it. Be certain to use a deep (at least two inches) flame-proof roasting pan and a metal baster, as shallow pans fill up too quickly and plastic basters tend to melt.

12-pound goose
3 onions, quartered
2 celery ribs, quartered
3 bread slices (any type)
2 carrots, cut roughly
1 c. boiling water
1 c. dry white wine
1/4 c. Tawny port
1/3 c. all-purpose flour
chicken broth if needed

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Discard loose fat from goose. Rinse goose inside and out, and pat dry. Pierce skin all over with a fork. Season with salt and pepper, and loosely pack neck cavity with enough bread to fill out cavity (this will prevent cavity skin from collapsing during roasting). Fold neck skin under body and fasten with a small skewer. Fill body cavity with 1 quartered onion and 1 celery, and tie legs together loosely with kitchen string.

Transfer goose, breast-side up, to a rack set in a deep pan and roast in middle of oven for 30 minutes. Reduce temperature to 325 degrees, and carefully pour boiling water over goose (juices may splatter). Roast, skim fat and baste every 20 minutes, for 2 to 2 1/2 hours. Transfer to a heated platter. Keep warm, loosely covered with foil.

Meanwhile, make basic broth on stovetop by covering remaining onions, celery and carrots, neck and giblets with water. Simmer while goose cooks.

Spoon off fat from pan juices and reserve. On top of stove, deglaze pan with white wine and port over moderately high heat, scraping up brown bits, and boil mixture until reduced by about half, adding broth as necessary. Transfer to a large measuring cup. In a 3-quart heavy saucepan, whisk together 1/4 cup reserved fat and flour, and cook roux over moderately low heat, whisking, for 3 minutes. Add port mixture, and broth for desired thickness, then bring gravy to a boil, whisking constantly. Simmer, whisking frequently, 5 minutes, or until thickened. Season with salt and pepper.

–G.G.

From the December 15-21, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

News of the Food

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News of the Food

Oh, Just Everything

KFOG 104.5-FM’s 11th annual Live from the Archives compilation disc–featuring live recordings made specifically for the station by such artists as Keb’ Mo’, Mark Knopfler, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, Los Lonely Boys, Steve Miller, Ziggy Marley, the BoDeans, Peter Gabriel, My Morning Jacket, Alanis Morissette and a long list of famous others–has sold out at the Good Guys, its only brick-and-mortar outlet. Having raised some $3 million for Bay Area food banks, including the Redwood Empire Food Bank, Live from the Archives 11 is now only available as a digital download. Only 5,000 downloads can be made, with all 27 tracks plus the cover art and liner notes included, so the immortal time to act remains exactly now. It’s all sitting there, just waiting, online at www.kfog.com for $18.99, making it still possible to do some coolio holiday shopping while benefiting the hungry. . . . Also benefiting the Redwood Empire Food bank are heroes Frederick and Peggy Furth, vintners who presented the nonprofit with a $100,000 challenge grant in June. Expiring Dec. 31, their funding matches new or increased gifts of $1,000. For details on giving, check www.refb.org. . . .

Speaking of those with empty stomachs, the Sebastopol Sunrise Rotary Club is hosting a community dinner for those in need on Saturday, Dec. 25–known informally as “Christmas” to many of us–and volunteers are needed to help serve and prepare this feast. Help to warm hearts and stomachs that day at the Masonic Temple, 373 N. Main St., from 2pm to 5pm. If you can lend a hand or give a buck, call Michelle Filshie at 707.823.0817. . . .

Moving rapidly up the pay scale, the Wine Appreciation Guild has released World Wine Challenge: Wine Regions, a must-have computer game for the enologist on your holiday list ($24.95; both PC and Mac). Set up as a game-show format and intended for two players, Challenge encourages each to digitally “spin” a wheel that is terrifyingly marked with some 22 international wine-growing regions. One must answer questions about designation, appellation, malolactics, acidity and other dizzying trivia tidbits. What, for example, makes a wine a “reserve”? Surely that special someone knows. World Wine Challenge is available widely at tasting rooms and wine shops. . . .

On the restaurant beat, the E&O Trading Co., a Southeast Asian grill, has finally opened in Larkspur Landing. With highly acclaimed sister spots in San Jose and San Francisco, E&O’s menu aims to trace the spice route. Honolulu native Barney Brown is at the helm as executive chef, offering “fusion” foods only when authentic. With satays, naans, Indonesian corn fritters and Vietnamese beef stew as mainstays, E&O is open for lunch and dinner daily. 2231 Larkspur Landing Circle, 415.925.0303. . . .

Those desiring the upper reaches of gastronomy must wait until February, when the anticipated upscale pleasures of Cyrus are finally available to the public. Housed within the new Les Mars Hotel, which is behind on its construction schedule–not news to anyone who’s ever participated in the slightest remodel–Cyrus will be prix fixe only, with three to five courses available. An artisanal cheese cart, said to rival that of the Farmhouse Inn, as well as a caviar and champagne cart, are among the planned offerings. Cyrus, named in honor of Cyrus Alexander, founder of the eponymous nearby valley, is helmed by Nick Peyton and executive chef Douglas Keane, collaborators at Market restaurant in St. Helena. Keane was tapped as a “rising star” by the San Francisco Chronicle when he chefed at Jadiniére, and Peyton is an accomplished maitre d’. Their fusion should be fantastic. Cyrus, 29 North St., Healdsburg. Reservations are already being taken at 707.433.3311. . . .

Gretchen Giles

From the December 15-21, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

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