A year ago, this newspaper published a piece where I named and praised five local folks who helped make our lives better in a myriad of ways. Since then, 365 days have gone by—a full trek around the sun—so here are five more people who in ways large and small help to shape our community and make it better.
Mayor Marilyn Ezzy Ashcraft
The last time I saw Mayor Ashcraft was at the second “No Kings” march and gathering this past October 18. I cannot speak for other mayors from other cities, so I have no idea what sort of political or practical risk she was taking, but while we stood up for our immigrant neighbors, carrying signs and chanting, our mayor was right there with us, on the steps of City Hall, speaking truth to power. For an elected official to oppose the executive branch of the federal government takes a lot of chutzpah. The leader of that branch has been vindictive to others who challenge him, but there was our mayor, doing just that.
Mayor Ashcraft was also there in April 2024, willing to sit down with a local citizen—me—for coffee and talk about the City’s proposed proclamation calling for a ceasefire in Gaza. I had safety concerns about those attending the City Council meeting and was worried how that might add to the rise of anti-semitism. The mayor is an Arab-American, I’m a Jewish-American, and we spent nearly two hours talking about the horrible war and what might be done to end it. We agreed, we disagreed, we showed mutual respect. We are so fortunate to have a leader willing to stand and sit for us, all of us, in this town.
Victor Dominguez-Garcia, Calafia Taqueria
To own and run a restaurant is a tough task. You have to know the territory, as they say, know what you’re making and selling, who works for you, who your customers are, the ins and outs of permits and deliveries and making sure your refrigerators work. And it also helps to be a real person. Victor does all that and is all that at Calafia Taqueria. When the government shutdown was going to disrupt SNAP benefits Victor, supported by Patti Tsang of Alameda Sports Cards & Comics and other concerned folks, essentially turned his restaurant into a soup kitchen, offering meals for those experiencing acute food insecurities. He set up next door at Webster Park (formerly the Healing Garden) and made meals filled with love and assurance.
Victor’s generosity goes far beyond that. When I was starting up The Foodbank Players we needed a place to store props and set pieces, and we needed a green room for actors to prep for our shows, so when I asked Victor for help he said sure, you can use our back room for all of that. We’ve been around for four years now, and he and his folks have been our strongest allies, day after day, show after show, nacho after nacho. Such a good person, doing the right thing with a smile and fist bump.
Ron Mooney of Daisy’s Mercantile
Ron Mooney’s primary day job is to walk the family dog. Yes, he once served on the Alameda Unified School District Board of Education and is the current president of the Downtown Alameda Business Association, but pet wrangler is still his chief gig. No matter what role he’s played, is playing, or shall play, Ron brings two qualities that are deeply appreciated—warmth and wisdom. Whether he’s helping a start-up theater company by letting them perform in the back room at Daisy’s Mercantile or greeting customers at the shop, Ron brings his Papa Bear demeanor. And there are times when that kind of strength and support is exactly what’s needed.
Recently a local Park Street business owner was concerned when ICE agents appeared. There was no confrontation, no one was harassed or taken away, but it was deeply unnerving. That owner reached out to Ron for advice. I was not privy to the content of their conversation, but I could tell that the person, having spoken with Ron, came away feeling better, likely having been given specific information on how to respond to the federal agents, and comforted knowing that someone was looking out for her. That’s who Ron Mooney is, as he gives out high fives, waves, and hand shakes to all of us denizens on Park Street.
Teachers in the Alameda Unified School District
For those who may not be aware, there is an army of rather ordinary looking citizens wearing a lot of red these days, all across the island. They’re not Stanford fans gearing up for The Big Game, but rather the teachers of Alameda Unified School District. They are currently negotiating their upcoming contract, and as is the tradition, they show and feel oneness as a bargaining unit by sporting matching togs.
I used to be one of those folks, and have worn my red shirt, so I am well aware that singing the praises of my former fellow colleagues is an inside job. But hear me out. I retired in 2019 right before teaching and learning and school got sideswiped by the pandemic. So I did not have to contend with Zoom instruction, with the impossible challenges of educating kids wearing masks, sitting before screens, worried while the world tilted. I did help out a little when students returned to their classrooms and witnessed everyone on every campus trying to get everything back to normal, with bells and homework and recess and school activities and parent conferences and sports and plays. My former brethren are still working to rebuild that place we rely on for so much in our community—school. Making accommodations for those still affected by the quarantine, striving to catch them up academically and socially, and collaborating with administration and staff to make all the little things work again on campus—celebrating the 100th day, making homecoming a hoot, and making graduation glorious again.
Like the mayor, Victor, and Ron, they are stalwarts, standing in front of a group of kids still shaken, saying and showing “I am here for you.” And also trying to put up with the 6-7 nonsense.
Road improvement crews working across the island
I’m a bike rider first, a driver second, and a pedestrian third, so the roads in Alameda, the crosswalks and bike lanes and parking places, are important to me every day. I can be grumpy in each of my three roles—as a biker, drivers and walkers irk me; when driving, bikers and walkers earn my honks; and when I walk, I’m always dodging the knucklehead bikers and drivers. It’s ain’t easy getting around this place. So when the City recently began to pave, reshape, and mess with my roadways I looked at their efforts with suspicion and doubt and may have grumbled out loud. Wait, what happened to my beloved two lanes? What the heck is that raised thingy near the corner, and why can’t they do this work at night or when I’m away on vacation? Grrrrrr!
But as it turns out, the folks in charge are smarter than I am about these things, and while inconvenient, the work of the road workers—making smooth the bumpy roadbeds and redrawing the boundaries of travel—is good for the goose and the gander, as well as all of us who wander. I think those roundabouts just might work, so thank you road crews. Thanks for filling the potholes, the weird asphalt crevices, and other oddities that tumble we pedalers. Thanks for holding the signs telling me to SLOW and STOP, and then nodding as I pass by. Thanks for wearing your hats and vests and being careful.
Gene Kahane is the founder of the Foodbank Players, a lifelong teacher, and former Poet Laureate for the City of Alameda. Reach him at [email protected]. His writing is collected at AlamedaPost.com/Gene-Kahane.
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