1998_04 Insight April 1998

              A^7>nfused Identity
Big city or small town?
By Jennifer Lugowsw
■~~t's early afternoon on a
JLspring Wednesday. The sun
splices through departing rain clouds
and sinus-aching smog over Blackstone
Avenue in this mini-metropolis called
Fresno.
At the north end of the 6-lane,
.traffic-choked artery is the dividing line
of where growth meets decay.
To the north, where Blackstone
curves and becomes Friant Road, the
grind and dust of bulldozers mark the
development of new neighborhoods and
new businesses, like a nine-story office
complex at Fresno Street and Friant
Road.
To the south, where Blackstone
becomes Abbey, the same machines
have cleared condemned buildings,
wiping out remnants of a once-great
history to make room for a bleak future.
The face of Fresno is revealed along
the stretch of Blackstone. As you pass
through the Shaw Avenue intersection
heading south, you might notice vacant
storefronts and signs reading "Space For
Rent." As you drive past Gettysburg and
Ashlan Avenues, you may wonder why
some of the billboards change from
English writing on one end of town to
Spanish on the other.
And if you're driving this route,
past Fresno City College, past the Tower
District and into downtown, maybe
you'll reach over and lock your doors.
Chances are, you don't live here,
where schools are more known for
recent gang activity than for stellar test
scores. Or maybe this charcoal, sweaty,
yesterday end of town is your home.
And just maybe you wonder if you've
been forgotten by the town you live in.
This is Fresno, and this is its story.
Fresno is Stephanie Padilla, born
addicted to heroin and cocaine to a
mother addicted to the same. Now at 11-
years-old, struggling through special
education classes, she is at risk of
becoming part of the one-third of the
city's students who never complete high
school.
Fresno is Javier Molina, unem
ployed even after applying for more than
25 jobs.
Fresno is Leila Scoleri, an ex-convict
who was arrested for the first time at 18.
Ten years later, she has been sent to
prison three times.
Fresno is "D" Bridges, a homeless
human being who spends his nights at
the Fresno Rescue Mission and his days
trying to earn money so he can eat.
Fresno is Shawn Stevenson, a lifelong fanner whose land was once a part
of the city's outskirts. But, like so many
farmers before him who'once represented the strength of the city, he is now
threatened by extensive urban sprawl.
The city of Clovis is pushing against his
front door, already planning development of his land before he's even
decided whether to sell it or not.
It wasn't always this way. Fresno
was bom in the boom or bust atmosphere of the gold rush, when settlers
flocked to the foothills of the San
Joaquin Valley. In the late 1800s, around
the time when a railroad was built
through the area, Fresno was given its
name.
And it grew. Fresno grew to become
the agricultural leader of the world, a
patchwork of vineyards and citrus and
stonefruit orchards. It grew to establish
a vibrant downtown, rich with culture
and thriving business.
Fresno grew to become one of the
most impoverished cities in the state.
Today, while other California cities boast
unemployment rates down by 2 and 3
percent, Fresno's unemployment remains stuck in the double digits. The
poverty rate hovers at just under one-
third.
Over the next three weeks, beginning today, this series will examine a
city entrenched in poverty, crime and
unemployment; a city with declining
quality of education and quality of air; a
city stretching its boundaries with ever-
increasing population and development
while it withers at its core.
That city is Fresno. And it is a city
in crisis.
photo by Daliela Ufequist
Chris M. Sorensen, a native Fresnan metal artist, despite the high poverty and crime rates said, "I was
born here and I'm going to die here." The arch is the original gateway to the city of Fresno.
Next Week...
♦> creeping borders of Fresno
♦ alarming crime rates
♦ danting unemployment
♦ abundant poverty
pholo by Dione Sorondo
Insight Special 3 April 22,1998