Rasputin keeps trying to fly high

STEVE SMITH

In 1992, my wife and I thought it was time to move out of the

two-bedroom condominium we had been living in for the past three

years.

We started looking everywhere in Costa Mesa and Newport Beach, but

it seemed that the best values were for homes directly under the

flight path of the planes leaving John Wayne Airport, close to the

airport.

The closer to the airport we got, the more appealing the deal:

large, well-built homes at some very reasonable prices.

The homes we toured had been soundproofed and seemed to keep out

the noise quite well.

One day we drove around the neighborhood and stopped to speak to a

few residents, mostly about life under the flight path. Their replies

can be summarized by one answer: “You’ll get used to it.” But when we

dug deeper we found that life outside the house where the planes were

flying was not pleasant at all. One guy told me he had been there

long enough to tell what type of plane was taking off just by the

noise it made. “The MD-80s are the worst,” he said.

Our investigation revealed that the worst time of day was around 7

a.m., when the flights begin and seem to go nonstop for at least a

couple of hours.

So, one morning just after our tour, I stopped at Starbucks, got a

cup of coffee and drove over to the neighborhood. At 6:45 a.m., I

parked my car, got out and waited for the takeoffs to start. Once

they did, it took me about six minutes to realize we would never move

to this neighborhood or any other area under the flight path at John

Wayne.

That was 13 years ago. It’s hard for me and a lot of other people

in Newport-Mesa to have any sympathy for anyone who moved under the

flight path during the last 15 or so years. Those people made a

decision to live there knowing full well that airport noise would be

a part of their lives as long as they lived in those homes. We were

aware of the noise and chose not to live there.

For them, complaining about airport noise is like someone who

commits a crime and complains about the prison food. It’s like moving

to Temecula, commuting to Newport Beach and complaining about the

traffic.

For everyone else -- they being the folks who have lived in their

home when only private planes flew in and out -- El Toro seems to be

the hill they want to die on. These folks need to move on.

They need to understand that the dream of a commercial airport in

El Toro is over. Los Angeles Mayor James Hahn and his El Toro push?

He used El Toro proponents to further his reelection campaign,

knowing they’d fall all over him and give him the free publicity he

craved. Hahn could have pursued this idea as vigorously at any time

over the last 10 years. Why now? Because his reelection bid is in

trouble and he’s trying to divert attention away from, among other

things, the accusations of corruption in his administration that are

plaguing his campaign.

The bids for the El Toro land are coming in, folks -- hundreds of

millions of dollars of them. Kick and scream all you want about the

broken promise of a “Great Park,” if you think that is what’s

happening, but it won’t change the fact that the El Toro battle is

over. There will not be an airport down in El Toro. It’s all over but

the crying.

But long after the big and smart money has moved on, the El Toro

hopefuls, or hopeless, cling to their dream.

Today the airport is the Rasputin of local issues. It has been

voted down, condemned by pilots, dumped by backers and sold online,

and still some refuse to let it die.

I’m still for closing down John Wayne, an idea I first floated in

November 1999, with the mention in a Daily Pilot column about a

fictitious organization called “NAG,” or the “No Airport Group.”

Ontario wants our air travel business, and the Los Angeles

International Airport is a convenient train ride away if you drive a

little way to a Metrolink station.

NAG was a fabrication back then, but if anyone wants to make it

real, let me know (onthetown2005@aol.com), and I’ll support it.

Since then, the El Toro story is no longer about the airport that

never was, but the dwindling number of people who can’t move on; who

can’t find something else in their lives to replace the excitement of

the battle for the land.

I admire their grit and tenacity. So for them, I have a short list

of alternate causes:

* They could help organize and raise money for a high school of

the arts, which would be a great gift to the children of our school

district.

* They could become active in the Surfrider Foundation, which is

doing as much or more than anyone to protect Newport (and other)

beaches.

* They could help out at one of the many local charities that

helps kids, families or the sick.

These people have choices, just as my wife and I did in 1992, when

our simple test told us that life under the flight path was not

pretty. These people can stay bitter and refuse to accept what

everyone else seems to know, or they can put their tenacity and

perseverance into a new cause.

* STEVE SMITH is a Costa Mesa resident and a freelance writer.

Readers may leave a message for him on the Daily Pilot hotline at

(714) 966-4664.