by Matt Kapko

Situated along the Mad River, “where the sunshine and sea meet,” there reside two unique cultures that coexist in the Blue Lake community. In a relationship that goes back generations, the Blue Lake Rancheria and City of Blue Lake have been through times of agreement and times of conflict. This history of relations came to a head, when in 2001, ground breaking began for the construction of the Tribe’s casino.

Blue Lake residents reacted to the casino with concern and hesitation. Many residents did not like the idea of a “big, bad casino” so close to their peaceable hamlet, as one resident put it. As time went on and members of the community became educated on the Tribe’s sovereign right to open a casino, the city and Tribe began researching the potential impacts and worked out agreements with each other. “It’s perceived as something special, but it’s not. It’s a right that was never given up,” explains Tribal Chair Arla Ramsey.

A major conflict arose between the city and Tribe with the opening of the casino in July 2002. When traffic congestion was at its height during the “soft opening” of the casino, nearby residents became increasingly angered and made their discontent known at City Council meetings. Somewhere between the unusually long traffic jams and settling dust from the construction, some residents were beginning to fear the worst for their community. They didn’t want the casino to force an undesirable impact on their lives. Some perceived the traffic and noise as a sign of things to come, or remain. Public safety remained the largest concern. More than 36 signatures were garnered for a petition that asked the city to conduct a traffic study to determine the possibility for lowering speed limits and enforcing them. This came out of a total population of 1,160.

Tense relations between the two governments slowly lessened after the completion of a roundabout and improvements to Chartin Road, the direct-access road to the casino. The calm proved to be the eye of the storm, though, with the Rancheria filing suit against the city just weeks later. The two governments entered into an agreement outlined in a Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) on Nov. 1, 2000. Both parties agreed under the MOU to “cooperate on a government-to-government basis in furnishing water and sewer services to the Tribe.” The agreement also required that environmental reviews be completed under the California Environmental Quality Act (CEQA). Both the city and Tribe conducted their own environmental review and produced conflicting results. The city refused the Finding of No Significant Impact prepared by the Tribe and determined that a Negative Declaration would be needed to fulfill CEQA requirements.

Hence, the city adopted the Mitigated Negative Declaration with the stipulation that it could hold water/sewer service ransom for compliance with the agreement. By adopting the resolution, the city also imposed “mitigations related to the construction and development of the casino,” the Tribe stated in court documents. It challenged the city’s authority under previous agreement to impose any mitigations on the Tribe. In court documents, the Tribe stated that “the Mitigated Negative Declaration imposed a variety of mitigation measures on the Tribe that had not been agreed to under the MOU. The city committed a prejudicial abuse of discretion by approving the Mitigated Negative Declaration without the legal authority to enforce the approved mitigations, and its approval was made contrary to law.”

The City Council had determined that the only effective means to enforce the measures of the Mitigated Negative Declaration was for the city to retain the right to terminate water and/or sewer service to the casino if the Rancheria failed to comply. The Tribe challenged the city’s ability to shutoff water and sewer services. Hoping to avoid such predicaments in the future, the Rancheria’s lawsuit refered to troubles in May 2002 when the city, without prior notice to the Tribe, plugged the sewer connection to the casino. While the water and sewer service was eventually restored, the Tribe claims that Duane Rigge, city manager at the time, took the action because he did not consider the MOU to be complete or effective until the city completed its environmental review.

Prior to the lawsuit, the Tribe suggested that the city sign a “reservation of rights,” to allow an open-ended timeframe for the Tribe to contest the city’s right to enforce the agreement through shutting off water/sewer services. The offer was initially refused by the City Council, only to be later approved after the Rancheria filed suit. The lawsuit was eventually dropped when the city wiped the dust of the earlier proposal made by Rancheria, and agreed to put no time limit on allowing the tribe to contend the city’s enforcement of cutting off water/sewer services.

Tribe history

This major conflict between neighbors was not unique to the Blue Lake Rancheria. Wiyot Indians, which make up the population of the Blue Lake Rancheria, had been present in the region for many years prior. In the 1850s there were at least 35 villages situated along the Mad River. Within 75 years of first contact with white men, many of the Wiyot were being displaced from their villages. The early 1860s were wrought with massacres of the Wiyot people. The U.S. government then imprisoned the remaining Wiyot in livestock corrals at Fort Humboldt and the north of Humboldt Bay. With the Wiyot living in such close proximity to major cities around Humboldt Bay, “it’s easy to see why the Wiyot population was quickly killed off,” Ramsey remarked. Ramsey said as much as 60 percent of the Wiyot were killed or died as a result of poor treatment from the U.S. government in just a 10-year-span. “In the past a lot of things have happened to Tribes. They took a hard beating,” she concluded.

In 1906, Congress passed the Rancheria Act, which protected Native Americans and allowed them to come back to their communities. So, in 1908, the federal government formed the Blue Lake Rancheria. At that time there were 27 tribal members, said Jean Leavitt, curator at the Blue Lake Museum. In 1958, the Tribe’s land was dispersed in private property parcels to its members. This came in a long list of different methods the U.S. government enacted to force the Native Americans to assimilate to white culture, Ramsey said. Tribal members were given a deed to their land and the Rancheria was terminated. After 7 years of not paying taxes, something they were never educated on, many tribal members in California were stripped of their land. Ramsey reminds that state-sponsored deception happened often throughout Native American’s history with the U.S. government. The “government makes agreements and treaties, then walks on the paper we signed,” she said. One elderly Indian woman in the Ukiah area refused to move off her land and her determined strength resulted in the Tillie Hartwick lawsuit (1979- 1983). Because the federal government did not live up to its agreement in providing infrastructure – roads, water, sewer, etc. – to the Blue Lake Rancheria, it became eligible for the class action suit. Absent recognition as a Tribe, “You were no longer an Indian in the eyes of the federal government,” Ramsey commented. As a result of investigations from the lawsuit, 18 of the 105 Tribes terminated in California were reinstated as Rancherias – essentially a smaller Indian reservation. The Blue Lake Rancheria was among those reinstated. Of the federal government, Ramsey said, “They have no problems spending billions and billions of dollars to invade a country to help them,” but, “when they invaded our country they never helped us.”

One irony that Ramsey likes to recall is that when the Tribe was originally given the opportunity to organize and form a government after the lawsuit, it chose not to. But, when the city wanted to build a truck route right through the Tribe’s land, the Rancheria chose otherwise. “We basically became a government to fight an action the city was taking. It’s like the city’s never gotten past that,” Ramsey said.

The Blue Lake Rancheria’s form of government is wholly unique. “Each tribe sets up their government to suit their own needs and cultural environment,” Ramsey said. The Tribal Council is comprised of 5 members, through an election by tribal members. “The Tribe is not governed by a person, but by the people,” she said. The Rancheria’s government operates as a sovereign entity. The current tribe membership is 50.

One unique characteristic of Indian governments that provokes large amounts of criticism is taxes. Many people find the tax structure of Indian governments to be unfair; however Ramsey contends that Tribes do pay their fair share. “People put these blinders on and say ‘the tribes aren’t paying their fair share,’” she said. All Tribal people are required to pay federal taxes, but not state taxes. The Tribe takes over the state’s role in taxing its citizens. “The Tribe, like a state, is exempt from federal income tax,” Ramsey explained. The current State Compact between California Tribes and the state agrees that each Tribe with gaming donate a specific percentage of its profits to the state for distribution to the greater Indian community within California. Tribes also pay the state for licensing of the gaming machines. Each tribe with 1 to 349 gaming machines, such as the Blue Lake Casino, is asked to donate 7 percent. The theory behind these donations is to provide aid to smaller Tribes without gaming, and to compensate Tribes that choose to operate fewer machines. The funds from these donations are dispersed to all Tribes throughout California operating with less than 349 machines, much the same as state taxes theoretically come back to benefit the state’s residents and programs.

With this understanding in mind, Ramsey gets upset that so many people criticize Tribes in regard to taxes without full comprehension of the state’s agreement with them. Why should Tribes be treated different than any other state?, Ramsey asked rhetorically. She offered an analogy: the state does not pay taxes on the state lottery because it uses those profits for the state’s benefit. So, much the same, since casino profits benefit the tribal members, the Tribe doesn’t pay taxes to the state. “For whatever reason when it comes to the Tribe… we’re repeatedly asked to do something different than the next person,” she said. Asking Tribes to pay state taxes would be a form of double taxation, Ramsey argues. “They want to put us back in the corral. The only difference this time is that half of us won’t die!” Beyond that, Ramsey asked, “Can you look at our community and say (the casino) hasn’t helped the community?” Ramsey is pleased with the current State Compact, but thinks the Tribes’ donations should be sent to the counties, not the state. The state originally told the Tribes to expect $1.5 million a year, but in three years the Blue Lake Rancheria has received approximately $700,000.

Community history

The community of Blue Lake has gone through many changes. The first non-native contact in the region is not certain; however explorers were arriving as early as the 18th century. The non-native population really began to grow in Blue Lake with the arrival of Clement and Antoinette Chartin in 1871. The French couple traveled through Blue Lake and decided to build a hotel just beyond where the Mad River Grange now sits. At that time, the hotel rested at the edge of the lake on the east end of town.

The name Blue Lake may be perceived as a misnomer to some, but until the 1940s and ‘50s there actually was a lake in Blue Lake – hence the name. Heavy rain seasons sometimes bring a smaller version of the lake to its original location, said Leavitt of the Blue Lake Museum. Leavitt describes the demise of the lake as a “combination of lack of interest” from adjacent property owners. The east end of the lake was filled in by an adjacent land owner, as too was a section alongside a gravel company’s location.

Founded in 1910, the City of Blue Lake saw “a surprising number of businesses” in the early years, Leavitt said. She described Chartin as a very aggressive businessman. He opened a hotel, a post office, started a newspaper called the Blue Lake Advocate, and sold property within years of his arrival. “That impresses me – to go into a country where the language is your second language and run a newspaper – that is pretty good,” Leavitt commented.

The majority of immigrants that came to Blue Lake were from France, Sweden, Italy, Portugal and Ireland, Leavitt said. Some were attracted by the Gold Rush, others wanted to do ranching. The logging industry also brought many jobs to the community. “We used to have six bars in this town,” Leavitt said, offering credence to stories of a bustling time. As the logging industry tapered off and transportation to Eureka became simpler, the economy in Blue Lake was diminished. But, with the recent establishment of a casino neighboring her city, Leavitt said, “I’m full of hope. I think they are blending in nicely.”

In efforts to blend the goals of the city and Tribe nicely, the city established a city councilmember as liaison to the Tribe to share information between the two governing bodies. City Councilmember Marlene Smith was chosen for the job in January 2003. At the council meeting of her selection as liaison, Smith commented, “We are trying to build neighbors and relationships.” In a recent interview, Smith provided a sense of how things are going in her position as liaison. “My goals as liaison go beyond communication. Simply put, I want us all to be good neighbors. I’m not comfortable with them versus us attitude. I want the Tribe to understand the valid concerns of the city and I want the city to understand that the Tribe is a valuable part of that community.” Smith said Blue Lake has limited resources and thinks it is “fortunate to be working with a Tribe that has the consciousness to provide for the community.” She remarked how surprisingly far reaching the Rancheria’s planning goes – looking ahead to the welfare of seven generations. Relations are improving, she said, but not alone through her meetings with Ramsey. “My sense is that the energy is lifting… People are seeing that the casino is not having as negative an impact as was feared.” The positive contributions of the Rancheria are finally being seen by some, she said.

Concerns remain however, as “personal stories of loved ones losing control over gambling and fears of drunk drivers leaving the casino,” are communicated to her. “These concerns are real and raise questions about addiction and personal responsibility. They need to be addressed through education and counseling.” Additionally, she said there are “concerns about losing the small town feel that could come with the development of a Rancheria complex.”

So far, her experience as liaison leaves her hopeful. “There are generations of painful relations between the city and the Tribe. I am not naïve enough to believe that this position of liaison will heal the past or prevent problems in the future. But something had to be done. Steps had to be taken or the door to any positive relationship might have closed.”

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