Why we need a local water board to manage the Paso Robles basin

You’ve probably heard the old Western saying: “Whiskey is for drinking; water is for fighting.” Certainly here in the North County we’ve lately been fighting over water.

But I’d like to suggest a new saying: “Wine is for drinking; water is for suing.” Did you notice the front-page headline in last Saturday’s Tribune that said, “Courts split on N. County lawsuits?” Both lawsuits were over water.

One lawsuit wants a court to revoke San Luis Obispo County’s emergency ordinance that prohibits new pumping from the Paso Robles groundwater basin. The aim of the other suit is to get a court to adjudicate the Paso Robles groundwater basin.

“Adjudicate” means having a court manage a water basin and say who has the right to pump from the basin and how much. I’d rather have our groundwater basin managed by a fairly elected, local, water-district board. What’s so great about courts, judges and juries? They aren’t infallible. Let me tell you a personal example.

On Dec. 13, 1935, a Friday the 13th, I was walking to school in the winter’s first major snowfall. I was 5 years old and in first grade in a one-room country school. I was too young for first grade, but there was no kindergarten.

I could hear the bell ringing in the belfry of the school on the other side of the highway. I was late and afraid of being in trouble. Eleven-year-old William Dickinson later said he tried to hold me back, but I pulled away and ran out onto the highway.

I never saw the car. Its driver didn’t have time to stop, especially in the snow. The car broke my right thigh bone and fractured my skull and gashed my face. I guess my head broke one of the headlights.

My parents sued the driver of the car. They hoped his insurance would pay my hospital and doctor bills. My father didn’t have anywhere near enough money to pay them; America was at the bottom of the Depression.

At the trial the surgeon who fixed my leg testified. I stood next to him as he pointed to where he’d cut and spliced my thigh bone. I was a cute little kid in short pants with a big, long, ugly, red scar on my thigh, and bright red scars on my right cheek.

The insurance company never stood a chance. The jury wanted to help me. We got $2,200, which in 1935 was a lot. (My father probably didn’t earn $30 a week.) After paying the medical and lawyer bills, there was $828 left over for my future.

Judges and juries can be misled and mistaken. So can local water boards. But you may personally speak to and lobby local water board members, without paying big legal fees.

This story was originally published December 11, 2014 at 5:34 PM with the headline "Why we need a local water board to manage the Paso Robles basin."