I'm sure that, although well-intentioned, they have images of a small, backward farming community with little or no opportunity for economic gain. I'm also fairly certain that they think I'm now lost in this far-western, rural limbo known as Buckeye. Ha! They don't know what they're missing.
When asked this question, my first and standard response it, "Cause I can see the stars."
Having lived in the greater Phoenix area for over twelve years now. I have watched the Valley of the Sun grow steadily, both in population and in those problems which are always present in over-growing urban areas. The influx of new residents to the Valley has not only led to growth, jobs, thousands of new businesses and other hallmarks of a healthy economy, but has driven rents and property values up and people values down.
It was the people values that I began to miss.
People smile in Buckeye. People smile AT EACH OTHER!
Folks are more helpful, friendly, sharing, caring here - porbably because Buckeye, like agriculture-based communities across the nation, was originally built upon neighborly cooperation, mutual respect and hard work. Children play, people work and neighbors can borrow a cup of sugar without fear of being either shot or arrested. Sure, Buckeye has its share of disputes and in-fighting, but these things are the exception, not the rule.
There are green growing things in the Buckeye Valley. The fields and trees here contribute another element which seems to be missing in Phoenix - oxygen. The faint fragrance of water and plants and oxygen make the air here seem - well - ALIVE.
It actually gets dark at night. Not just in alleys and unlighted parking lots, but the sky itself gets dark, providing the necessary backdrop for nature's nocturnal light show - the stars.
I can actually see the Milky Way again. The stars here are so vivid that they go all the way to the horizon, down to the edges of the mountains which frame this living ribbon of growing things.
There is an obvious lack of such urban evening audio events as sirens and gunshots. The night is quiet but not silent. Lacking all that man-made noise, I can once again hear the sounds of crickets cricking, birds chirping, frogs croaking. And in the mornings I often hear, in the distance, roosters crowing.
Moving to a small town has enabled me to have pets again. Most places in the city, one isn't "allowed" to own a cat or dog, for fear of being evicted. Sad, really, for in an environment where neighbors don't know one another, where people barricade themselves in their offices, their cars, and their homes, contact with other living creatures is food for the soul. It is sad that so many are starving.
The Buckeye Valley also boasts a genuine river - the Gila - and there's actually water in it! Anyone who's ever lived near the Salt River in Phoenix can appreciate what a joy it is to see a riverbed filled with water, fish and ducks instead of trash, junk cars and the tents of people that society has thrown away as casually as an empty beer can. In Buckeye, the river flows, and there are rich grasses and trees along its banks. So much real, live water is a joyous relief in this dry and dusty desert.
The presence of water, trees, and crops coupled with the lack of parking lots, high-rises and freeway overpasses serves to make the Buckeye Valley about ten degrees cooler than Phoenix. Here the desert behaves as it should - it cools off at night.
Buckeye is a town where the local clothing store is also the Western Union office and the Greyhound bus station. Many business people in smaller communities wear more than one hat; hats that are often surprisingly different from one another. I immediately recognized that my seemingly disparate occupations as freelance writer, astrologer, artist, preparer of resumes and purveyor of used books and antique jewelry wouldn't be considered nearly so odd in an environment where the barber also sells insurance and the local fried chicken place is also a gas station.
Culturally, Buckeye is host to Anglos, Hispanics, Orientals, Native Americans and blacks without the dangerous divisiveness seen in more urban environments. This serves to enrich the entire community by providing a wealth of cultural heritages from which to draw social resources. And while this cultural diversity may not be obvious on the surface, nevertheless it lies deep within the heart of the community, coloring and enhancing the subtle life of all its citizens.
Another attractive feature is the availability of affordable housing. After struggling in Phoenix to pay nearly six hundred dollars a month for an efficiency apartment, I was happily surprised to find a two bedroom apartment for about half that amount. For the first time in many years, I have economic hope for the future - a rare and precious commodity. All the stories you've heard about starving writers are true.
After traffic congestion, brown air, greedy landlords, upscale and expensive shopping centers, overrated and overpriced apartments, security-conscious paranoiacs, graffiti, gangs, drugs, shootings, sirens and the unbearable summer heat that can only be experienced in a place where they blacktop the desert, Buckeye and the surrounding communities are literally a breath of fresh air.
At 1:48 p.m., several shots were fired killing 31-year-old Edward Salazar.
He was gunned down by unknown assailants driving past Salazar who was standing near his house. The victim was dead on arrival at St. Joseph's Hospital and Medical Center.
Witnesses reported seeing several occupants in the vehicle, according to police chief Richard Patscheider. The vehicle had no license places, bearing instead a temporary dealer sticker, the chief said.
Detective Sgt. Michael J. Booth, who is investigating the shooting, described the vehicle as an early 1980's brown or tan Oldsmobile.
Salazar was a long-time resident of the community. His wife, Minnie, has been the driving force in Valley Interfaith Project's recent community action plan in Tolleson.
The plan calls for improved school activities, block watch programs, and job training for underemployed adults.
Booth said he is investigating the incident with help from the Arizona Department of Public Safety. There is currently no motive for the shooting, according to Patscheider.
Booth added that there was no indication that the shooting was gang-related, and it appears to be an isolated incident.
Increasing headaches, dizziness, nausea, and pain forced her to be repeatedly absent from work. Neither Lori nor her employer knew about her brain tumor when she was fired from her job. She looked for new employment, but seemed unable to organize details, and often missed cirtical job interviews. Finally the headaches drove her to seek medical attention and a CAT scan showed the presence of a tumor deep within the brain. Surgery offered a 20 percent chance of survival, and even that chance carried a risk that she would be severly brain damaged.
Refusing surgery, and in "a kind of denial," Lori told no one of her condition until after she hade an unsuccessful move to the cooler climate in Flagstaff. Last November, Lori and her children, fourteen-year-old Paul and seven-year-old Katie, returned to the Phoenix area, with little hope and no money.
Lori and the children stayed with friends as long as possible, and then moved to a rent-by the- week motel. It was there that United Methodist Outreach Ministries (MOM) came into the picture. Mom provided Lori with cash, groceries, bus fare, paper products and eventually, the first month's rent on a two-bedroom townhome. Unfortunately, the townhome was situated in one of the worst neighborhoods in Phoenix, and she and her children were plagued with burglaries, assaults and poor living conditions.
Lori placed Katie in the care of a friend, with an eye toward eventual adoption. "I had accepted that I was going to die, and was trying to find suitable homes for my children," she said.
On welfare, receiving $235 a month plus food stamps, Lori lost her townhome in October. Social service agencies will not pay rent for anyone unless they can prove that it can be paid without help the next month. Lori is hoping to receive Social Security, but that cannot be approved until she has a final diagnosis and prognosis from her state-provided physicians. That process will not be completed for at least another month. Until then, the only option for Lori is to go to a shelter with her son, Paul. "The shelter is not in a safe neighborhood, either," Lori insists and with typical Irish pride, her pixie eyes flash fire. "I'll sleep in a tent first!"
"If nothing else, this whole experience has made my faith stronger. It's not God that's doing this to me, it's just circumstances, and I know that I'm going to come out of this, and my son's going to come out of this, and my daughter's going to come out of this much stronger people, with more faith than we've ever had," she said.
"Bad things don't ony happen to bad people. Bad things happen to good people, too. And I'm a good people," she smiled. New information has also changed her mind about dying. "I am going to live. I am goingto get back on my feet, and when I do, I'm going to take my mother's pen name and start writing again."
Writing about others like herself, and about the society which somehow manages to let these cases slip between the cracks. Writing which will, hopefully, change and improve society to others won't have to walk the path that Lori has.
Esther founded the Arizona Psychic Alliance in 1991. Her goal was to provide a way for psychics, healers and spiritual teachers to ffer their gifts to the general public in comfortable and familiar environments. Through her work on a psychic phone line, she had become acquainted with a large number of Valley psychics and practitioners. When the phone line closed in 1991, the time finally seemed right to create the Arizona Psychic Alliance.
She was led to this path after a long struggle to find and understand her own legacy of psychic abilities. Naturally clairvoyant and clairaudient, Esther spent 23 years in the corporate environment. After she began to feel a conflict between the job and her inner spiritual calling, she left her management position in 1988 and changed her life direction.
In establishing the Arizona Psychic Alliance, Esther was guided by her life lessons and by her own deep abiding sense of integrity. A quiet and soft-spoken woman, she has become a powerful conduit for positive change. she is committed to bringing spiritual information into the mainstream of society. "For too long, darkness has been associated with anything psychic," she said. She believes that through exposure to the public and by offering information on a variety of spiritual topics, the unfounded fears and myths surrounding psychics will be dispelled.
Beginning with a handful of members, the Arizona Psychic Alliance has grown to embrace more than 200 members and includes psychics, healers, teachers and other professionals who are dedicated to bringing Light and enlightenment to the general population. Esther presents the members at psychic fairs, question and answer panels, and workshops throughout the greater Phoenix area.
The group's first fair was held on Thanksgiving weekend, 1991 at Tower Plaza in Phoenix. Rhonda Kennedy, manager of the shopping mall at that time, billed the fair as "Free Entertainment." The event was such a success that Kennedy recommended it to other mall managers and Esther's dream grew into a reality. Kennedy has since become the business manager for Arizona Psychic Alliance.
Entertainment? Perhaps, but Esther's strong values and dedication to integrity are evident in the caliber and honesty of her members. Attend one of their events and you will most likely find a delightfully eccentric collection of quiet, friendly people sharing their psychic gifts. By holding the events in bookstores, shopping malls, coffeehouses, and theaters, the Arizona Psychic Alliance makes its members more easily available to the public. Esther approves each member personally, and look sof honesty, integrity and professionalism. The members embrace a wide variety of spiritual paths, and Esther encourages people to pursue their own personal spiritual direction.
True to her own spiritual philosophy of giving back to the community, Esther donates time and
the proceeds of many events to such charities as Friends of Maricopa County Medical Center,
Cystic Fibrosis, Hospice of the Valley, Body Positive and Aid for Stray Cats and Canines.
