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Why is Mike Antonovich Trying to Drive People Off Their Land in Rural Antelope Valley?

From Ken Adachi, Editor
August 29, 2011

Why is Mike Antonovich Trying to Drive People Off Their Land in Rural Antelope Valley? (Aug. 29, 2011)

"Mayro" Mike AntonovichRepublican Michael Antonovich, 72, the most powerful and senior member (31 years) on the LA County Board of Supervisors (who has been calling himself the "Mayor of Los Angeles County" since 1983), organized a new pressure group in 2006 called Nuisance Abatement Teams (NATS), to initially harass and then, under the pretext of city permit and building code 'compliance', to ultimately drive people off their own land in rural Antelope Valley, California; forcing owners to completely dismantle their homes (and any other standing structures) or face imprisonment, as seen in the case of Alan Kimble Fahey, 59, who was remanded to jail on July 8, 2011 by LA Superior Court Judge Daviann L. Mitchell for failing to sufficiently dismantle a 20,000-square-foot maze of buildings called "Phonehenge West" that it took Fahey 30 years to construct, after Fahey's conviction on 12 misdemeanor counts on June 7, 2011, just one month earlier.

The question is...Why?

Rural Antelope Valley is a sparely vegetated, desert-like environment with neighbors separated from each other by miles. Why on earth would Antonovich use heavily armed, flak-jacketed, TASER-brandishing assault teams of 'building code enforcement' goons, who descend like a pack of locusts on unsuspecting rural homeowners, and intimidate residents with such ferocity?

Is Antonovich cooperating with a larger, hidden scheme here? Is this not similar to the UN 'bio-diversity' pretext to take over and push out residents of US national forests and parks in the 1990s under Clinton? The most stunning thing to notice in the video below is Antonovich's stone cold silence when directly asked a very simple and polite question by Zach Weissmueller at the Board of Supervisors public meeting he attended.

Zach Weissmueller: "We want to know how the use of Nuisance Abatement Teams to force Antelope Valley residents to destroy their houses and vacate their properties is in the public interest?" [slight pause] "And that's directed at Mr. Antonovich."

Mike Antonovich:


Ken Adachi

Copyright 2011  All Rights Reserved.

Battle for the California Desert: Why is the Government Driving Folks off Their Land?
August 23, 2011

Description accompanying this youtube video:

Uploaded by ReasonTV on Aug 23, 2011

The Antelope Valley is a vast patch of desert on the outskirts of Los Angeles County, and a segment of the few rugged individualists who live out there increasingly are finding themselves the targets of armed raids from local code enforcement agents, who've assembled into task forces called Nuisance Abatement Teams (NATs).

The plight of the Valley's desert dwellers made regional headlines when county officials ordered the destruction of Phonehenge: a towering, colorful castle constructed out of telephone poles by retired phone technician [Alan] Kim Fahey. Fahey was imprisoned and charged with several misdemeanors.

But Fahey is just one of many who've been targeted by the NATs, which were assembled at the request of County Supervisor Mike Antonovich in 2006. LA Weekly reporter Mars Melnicoff wrote an in-depth article in which she exposed the county's tactic of badgering residents with minor, but costly, code violations until they face little choice but to vacate the land altogether.

"They're picking on the the people who are the most defenseless and have the least resources," says Melnicoff. collaborated with Melnicoff to talk with some of the NAT's targets, such as retired veteran Joey Gallo, who might face homelessness if he's forced to leave his house, and local pastor Oscar Castaneda, who says he's already given up the fight and is in the process of moving off the land he and his wife have lived on for 22 years. And, while Antonovich declined an interview, we did catch up with him at a public meeting in order to ask the big question at the center of all this: Why the sudden enforcement of these codes against people living in the middle of the desert, who seemingly are affecting no one?

Writer-Producers: Zach Weissmueller and Tim Cavanaugh. Associate Producer: Mars Melnicoff. Camera: Alex Manning and Weissmueller; edited by Weissmueller.

Approximately 9:48.

Phonehenge West Builder Convicted of Code Violations
The builder faces seven years in prison if he's convicted on all charges

By Jonathan Lloyd

Wednesday, Jun 8, 2011

The man behind Phonehenge West -- a hodge-podge of a mish-mash of a structure in the Mojave Desert community of Acton -- was convicted Tuesday of nine misdemeanor counts for maintaining illegal properties.

Jurors returned the partial verdict Tuesday against Alan Kimble Fahey. Jurors will return Wednesday to consider additional charges.

The 59-year-old Acton man spent 30 years building Phonehenge West. He said the ruling didn't come as a surprise.

"I'm not stunned,'' he said. "I didn't get to have one witness. I couldn't show one exhibit. I wasn't allowed to have the jury come to my property."

Fahey, a retired phone technician, faces seven years in prison if convicted on all charges. A judge will decide whether to impose the prison sentence.

Fahey said he plans to appeal.

The 1.7-acre property consists of a 70-foot tall tower and buildings made out of utility poles and steel beams. Some are linked by ramps and bridges that leads to patios.

Authorities call it a safety hazard that should be torn down. In an interview with NBC LA earlier this month, Fahey called it, "A museum, a library and a fun place to hang out."

"I am so ticked at these guys," Fahey said of county officials. "They'll never beat me -- ever. They could take this down the bare ground, pack everything into a missile and fire it into the sun. They can't take away 30 years of what a blast we've had here doing whatever we wanted."

Fahey said if he's ordered to take down the structures, he will have just as much fun doing that as he did building Phonehenge West.

During trial testimony, which lasted a week, authorities said they visited his property several times between 1986 and 1995 and again in 2006 and 2007. They said they issued citations and stop-work orders but that he ignored them.

Fahey said he initially tried to work with building inspectors but that they repeatedly demanded changes, lost his plans at one point and quit contacting him for several years while he continued to build.

Related: Facebook: Save Phonehenge West (
LA Times Comments on Phonehenge West (

Phonehenge West creator ordered to jail
July 9, 2011

Alan Kimble Fahey

A judge declared Friday that the creator of the elaborate Phonehenge West complex in the Antelope Valley "blatantly disregarded the court's orders" and ordered Alan Kimble Fahey to jail.

Fahey was convicted in June of code violations for building the structure -- but prosecutors said they found no "significant evidence" that Fahey had made any effort to comply with the judge's orders and remove parts of it.

Los Angeles County Superior Court Judge Daviann L. Mitchell set Fahey's bail at $75,000 and had deputies escort the 59-year-old Acton man from the courtroom. The stiff penalty drew protests afterward from an overflow crowd of Fahey's backers. Like him, they oppose what they consider excessively stringent building codes.

Man jailed for not dismantling Phonehenge West
Alan Kimble Fahey disregarded court's order to take down portions of the 20,000-square-foot structure, which includes a 70-foot tower, judge rules.
July 09, 2011|By Ann M. Simmons, Los Angeles Times

Phonehenge West built by Alan Kim Fahey

Alan Kimble Fahey, who was convicted of building code violations for constructing an elaborate complex dubbed Phonehenge West, was sent to jail Friday for refusing to comply with orders to vacate and destroy parts of his Antelope Valley landmark.

Los Angeles County Superior Court Judge Daviann L. Mitchell set Fahey's bail at $75,000 and had deputies escort the 59-year-old Acton man from the courtroom. The stiff penalty drew protests afterward from an overflow crowd of Fahey's backers. Like him, they oppose what they consider excessively stringent building codes.

OC Defense AttorneyReal world experience - former Deputy Sheriff, former DA

The judge told the courtroom that she had not wanted to put Fahey in jail at first. She had left him a free man since his conviction in early June so he could dismantle the illegal portions of his creation "in a safe and orderly fashion," she said.

But "he blatantly disregarded the court's orders," Mitchell said. She said her key concerns were fire hazards. Much of Phonehenge West is made of wood. Also, the county says the property lacks sufficient water and access for firefighters.

A retired phone service technician, Fahey spent almost 30 years constructing the 20,000-square-foot labyrinth of interconnected buildings, stopping only when Los Angeles County code enforcement officials forced him to in 2008. The creation, which includes a 70-foot tower, is a hodgepodge of reddish buildings — some built with telephone poles — connected by bridges and ramps. Fahey keeps a guest book that visitors sign.

Deputy Dist. Atty. Patrick David Campbell told the judge that he had visited Fahey's property since the conviction but saw no "significant evidence" that Fahey had made any effort to comply with the judge's orders.

People were still living in the unlawful buildings, illegal electrical sources were still connected and few personal belongings appeared to have been removed from the unpermitted structures, Campbell said.

Fahey spoke in his own defense. He told the judge that he was trying to dissemble the property and had removed 70 of 140 windows and a few doors. He said he didn't know how to disconnect the illegal electrical sources without cutting off power and water to his entire property. And although he had asked residents in the illegal structures to leave, they had no place else to go, Fahey said.

Jerry Lennon, Fahey's lawyer, argued that in light of how long it had taken to build the complex, ample time would be needed to dismantle it. The attorney, who had defended Phonehenge West as an artistic creation, requested the judge reduce the amount of his client's bail because he was not a flight risk.

But [Judge] Mitchell was unmoved.

"You're putting your family, first responders and the community at risk," she told Fahey.

Fahey's wife, Pat, who is helping her husband file an appeal, said after the hearing that the couple's lives have been "tense" and "difficult" since the conviction. Their son Noah, 26, said he and others were going "to pull strings to see if we can get him bailed out."

Fahey will be sentenced July 22 for his original criminal building code offenses. He could face more jail time and substantial fees, according to his lawyer.

L.A. County's Private Property War
By Mars Melnicoff Thursday, Jun 23 2011

Click here to watch our video exclusive, "L.A. County's War on Desert Rats."

In Llano, in the middle of the Southern California high desert, a bewhiskered Jacques Dupuis stands in front of what was once his home. His laid-back second wife, Marcelle, her long, silver hair blowing in the breeze, takes a drag on her Marlboro Red as they walk inside and, in thick French Canadian accents, recount the day in 2007 when the government came calling. "That's the seat I have to offer you," she tells a visitor, motioning to the exposed, dusty wooden floor planks in what was once a cozy cabin where Jacques spent much of his life, raising his daughter with his first wife.

On Oct. 17, 2007, Marcelle opened the door to a loud knock. Her heart jumped when she found a man backed by two armed county agents in bulletproof vests. She was alone in the cabin, a dot in the vast open space of the Antelope Valley, without a neighbor for more than half a mile. She feared that something had happened to her daughter, who was visiting from Montreal.

The men demanded her driver's license, telling her, "This building is not permitted — everything must go." Normally sassy, Marcelle handed over her ID — even her green card, just in case. Stepping out, she realized that her 1,000-square-foot cabin was surrounded by men with drawn guns. "You have no right to be here," one informed her. Baffled and shaking with fear, she called her daughter — please come right away.

As her ordeal wore on, she heard one agent, looking inside their comfortable cabin, say to another: "This one's a real shame — this is a real nice one."

A "shame" because the authorities eventually would enact some of the most powerful rules imaginable against rural residents: the order to bring the home up to current codes or dismantle the 26-year-old cabin, leaving only bare ground.

"They wouldn't let me grandfather in the water tank," Jacques Dupuis says. "It is so heart-wrenching because there was a way to salvage this, but they wouldn't work with me. It was, 'Tear it down. Period.' "

In order to clear the title on their land, the Dupuises are spending what would have been peaceful retirement days dismantling every board and nail of their home — by hand — because they can't afford to hire a crew.

Tough code enforcement has been ramped up in these unincorporated areas of L.A. County, leaving the iconoclasts who chose to live in distant sectors of the Antelope Valley frightened, confused and livid. They point the finger at the Board of Supervisors' Nuisance Abatement Teams, known as NAT, instituted in 2006 by Los Angeles County Supervisor Michael Antonovich in his sprawling Fifth District. The teams' mission: "to abate the more difficult code violations and public nuisance conditions on private property."

L.A. Weekly found in a six-week investigation that county inspectors and armed DA investigators also are pursuing victimless misdemeanors and code violations, with sometimes tragic results. The government can define land on which residents have lived for years as "vacant" if their cabins, homes and mobile homes are on parcels where the land use hasn't been legally established. Some have been jailed for defying the officials in downtown Los Angeles, while others have lost their savings and belongings trying to meet the county's "final zoning enforcement orders." Los Angeles County has left some residents, who appeared to be doing no harm, homeless.

Some top county officials insist that nothing new is unfolding. Michael Noyes, deputy in charge of code enforcement for Los Angeles County District Attorney Steve Cooley, says, "We've had a unit in the office through the '70s and '80s." But key members of the county NAT team say that "definitely, yes," a major focus on unincorporated areas was launched in 2006. Cooley declined to comment through his media spokesman.

Many residents insist a clearing-out is under way in these 2,200 square miles of arid land an hour north of L.A., a mountain-ringed valley at the western tip of the Mojave Desert named for elegant pronghorn herds that were all but wiped out by an 1884-94 drought. Their anxiety has prompted conspiracy theories about whether the county has its own plans for their land.

The crackdown has the strong backing of Antonovich, whose spokesman, Tony Bell, says of its critics, "I've probably ruined your story because you want to say it's a horrible thing going on. ... We have gotten a very, very positive response from the community."

Not everyone. Oscar Castaneda, pastor of Lancaster's historic adobe Sanctuary Seventh-day Adventist Church, built in 1934 and featured in Kill Bill, recalls the day he says he was ordered to "freeze" in front of his mobile home on isolated land where his only neighbors are rattlesnakes. Decades ago, Castaneda says the county gave him verbal approval to live there in a mobile home. He told the NAT team, which began photographing his spread: "Listen, I've been living over here for 22 years. And nobody has come over here to bother me."

He says a county team member replied, "Well, we're 22 years late."

Tim Grover, who leads NAT as supervisor of the property rehabilitation section of L.A. County's Building and Safety Division within the Public Works Department, says desert dwellers are not being treated overly harshly and the teams have a duty to seek out public safety, health and zoning violations.

"We don't just storm people's property and do things without permission," Grover says, but, he adds, "If it's 'vacant' land or 'vacant' property, then there's no expectation of privacy."

The battle in the desert attracted national attention two weeks ago when Alan Kimbel "Kim" Fahey lost a Los Angeles Superior Court criminal case over his whimsical, soaring Phonehenge compound in the Mojave Desert, built from 108 telephone poles — but without sufficient permits. A hero to many for taking on the county, he now must work out a plan for tearing down his colorful, barn-style home; big rainbow-painted "tree house" on stilts; cabin designed to look like a railroad car; 70-foot tower of stained-glass windows; interconnecting labyrinth of bridges; and pre-existing old buildings.

Fahey, a Santa Claus look-alike with a love for Harley Davidsons and denim overalls, is still upbeat, saying of his government foes: "They are just county blobs, they don't care about people." Save Phonehenge West has more than 28,000 Facebook fans.

For more photos, see "Desert Rats: Scenes from the Antelope Valley."

Powerful county officials seem eager to downplay the unfolding drama in the desert. Antonovich's communications deputy, Bell, told the Weekly: "NAT teams are used when there is toxic waste ... environmental crises ... potentially a parolee who has escaped. Maybe methamphetamine labs, or maybe illegal dog breeding. Very, very serious violations. ... I remember one time, folks were attacked with half a dozen wild boars so big they go up to your chest."

Those are not the stories told by people targeted by a system they say has morphed into a taste patrol. The desert's fierce individualists — a racially mixed bunch including Latinos, whites and African-Americans — have banded together to resist the crackdown. A truckers' advocacy group, the Antelope Valley Truckers Organization (AVTO), created in response to the county actions, draws an audience to its monthly meetings larger than the locally elected Littlerock Town Council, an advisory group to the county. And the Littlerock council has been upended by the locals, its members replaced with an anti-crackdown majority.

The Littlerock Town Council has proposed amendments to the Community Standards District that would take the desert dwellers, and longtime reality, into account. Bill Guild, president of the town council, says their mission is to rewrite the rules enacted by a county seat that is "almost immune to common sense."

In 2005, Cowboy Emeterio thought he was all alone. A maintenance construction helper for the Los Angeles City Department of Water and Power, Emeterio had enjoyed a peaceful relationship with the authorities before the Nuisance Abatement Teams existed. "The guy would just tell me, 'You know what, I need you to clean this here, I need you to put a fence around these things here in case some kids come around here and start wanting to climb over, so they don't get hurt."

In 2006, when Antonovich formed a NAT program in his district, Deputy District Attorney David Campbell was assigned to prosecute those who resisted the rules. "Oh man, I was one of the first motherfuckers on their docket," Emeterio says. NAT "didn't even have a name for themselves when they first started." But then they "started telling me and threatening me that I had to leave. And I wouldn't leave, so they took me to court to make me leave."

Emeterio claims that Campbell told his public defender, "Well, he's got 'vacant' land, and we want it vacant." His voice rising, he explains the county's view: "You're not allowed to have anything there! Not a storage container, not a fuckin' tire, not a nuthin'. Not a tractor. Nothing! ... Well, he wanted me off the property, and I told him, 'I'm not going anywhere, man. We're taking this to the box.' "

But government, Emeterio found, is hard to beat. Although many landowners now realize they should have known this fundamental law, the requirement to obtain land-use permits for such things as living in a mobile home or storing a truck, cargo container or stack of wood was news to many. This news was delivered by NAT teams, often made up of DA investigators, Sheriff's deputies, health inspectors, Building and Safety inspectors, zoning officers and animal control officers.

Grover, head of NAT, says, "We are trying to get the message out about what we do. We have nothing to hide, we feel. But a lot of people don't like what you did to them and so they'll make up a story ... and people start believing things that never happened." For example, Grover says, DA investigators are armed for the safety of the entire NAT team as they approach an unknown structure in the desert — not to intimidate residents.

Emeterio says his wife spent a day in jail a couple years ago. The Emeterios say she was arrested for trespassing on their own land; the county NAT team says that never happens. But they were forced out of their large camper known as a fifth wheel — they had no permit for living there. Hauled into criminal court by the district attorney, Emeterio was given six months to obtain all his permits, but it took him three years. The couple were ordered to remove everything from their 5 acres, down to the piles of firewood he had long been splitting and selling.

Now he's building a prefab home — with permits — but the couple is no longer living together due to the resulting, intense stress. He's now homeless — "playing musical chairs," is how he puts it — and on probation for defying the county's cleanup orders.

About the time in 2006 that the Emeterios were targeted, Chip and Amalia Romary were pulled over in their vehicle in Palmdale. The man he thought was a traffic cop issued him a curious ticket, Chip Romary says: A citation for illegal land use. "I received a traffic ticket for illegal land use. Illegal land use. A traffic ticket."

"They made me remove my hairpiece. Nobody's ever seen me without my hairpiece." Kenny Perkins, arrested for illegal storage on his land.

Their story helped fuel a growing fear that the county government is tracking people using inordinate resources and invasive techniques. "I bought a piece of property, 6 and a half acres," Romary says of the land under contention, "a wonderful piece of property. It was my life. It was everything that I wanted. It had a foundation, had water, had septic. I inherited a mobile home from my grandparents" in which he and Amalia lived.

"I showed up in court not knowing what this was all about, and they said, 'You are illegally living on your land.' Now, how that's possible, I don't know."

Romary focuses much of his wrath on prosecutor Campbell, whom he blames for his four-day stint in jail. "My life is now a nightmare," he says. "The courthouse is so corrupt, it's like a mob."

In 2006 and 2007, these and other stories began to be heard along the Sierra Highway, at parties and at the used goods and mercantile Trading Post on Pearblossom Highway in Littlerock. Tow-truck driver Richard Mesny was in trouble for storing numerous inoperable cars on his land; Lawrence Hansen, a retired electrician and former shop teacher, was under orders to remove "trash, junk and debris" that he says were his tools and construction materials.

Among those talking were the Dupuises. Jacques Dupuis had built their Llano cabin amidst the Joshua trees to code in 1984, but obtained insufficient permits and faced extensive red tape in getting his paperwork approved. An experienced builder, he recently worked as general superintendent on the "adaptive reuse" of a 17-story high-rise in downtown L.A., transforming it from offices to condos. So Dupuis figured he could get "after the fact" permits, which are granted to many who build to code in Southern California.

But codes have dramatically changed. The water well the county now required — the Dupuises use a tank supplied by a water truck — could cost $85,000 and wasn't guaranteed to produce water. The county also aggressively acted to force them to remove a cargo container — which can be seen only by passing hawks.

But Oscar Gomez, a zoning official on a county NAT team that took the Weekly on a ride-along in June, says such violations "bring the property value down. ... There are actually people that own all the property around them, even if they haven't built there yet."

The Dupuises couldn't afford an attorney with experience in this type of criminal law, and they lost to the county on the cargo container issue. They sued the county to remove from their records the land-use violations caused by their lack of a well. But the suit was dismissed.

Reacting to multiple reports such as the Dupuises', of being confronted by teams with guns, NAT team members who took the Weekly on the ride-along laughed and shook their heads. John Yacovone, a DA investigator, says, "We've heard those stories, too. It's not the way we work. We don't approach with our guns drawn."

But the stories are widespread and persistent. In November 2006, Fred and Linda Kirpsie, an off-the-grid family living atop a 4,000-foot mountain, were wondering how county officials "found" their cluster of aging mobile homes and huge scrap-metal collection, at the end of four-wheel-drive-only Kirpsie Road. Did they use Google Earth? Helicopters?

Despite their extreme lifestyle, the Kirpsies had lived on "Kirpsie Mountain" for 32 years, and Fred penned "Ore Car Update," a gold-mining column, for the Acton/Agua Dulce News. But in late 2006, when the Kirpsies returned home from a chore, their mentally disabled adult son, Paul, told them the authorities had visited.

The Kirpsies claim an armed team wearing black flak jackets pulled up in black SUVs and told Paul that his family had "no right to be here." The NAT team returned multiple times to issue orders to remove great heaps of items from the property.

"It's not an illegal lifestyle," Kirpsie says. "This is our happiness."

Criminally prosecuted, the Kirpsies agreed in March to a plea deal in which they will clear their land of every item, thus avoiding jail, says Guild of the Littlerock Town Council. They are moving to a mining town in Nevada.

But some don't have the resources to start over. Joey Gallo, a disabled veteran on a $985 monthly pension, like the Kirpsies and Dupuises, says he also was approached by an armed NAT team. They returned several times, each time ratcheting up the citations against him, he says.

"I said, 'Well, look, we've complied. We've taken the trash away ... we picked all the weeds away. And the place looked really nice and clean.' And they said, 'OK, now the motor home has to go. It can't be here. And the sheds have to go!"

Rural area residents blast county officials


Valley Press Staff Writer

Antelope Valley Truckers Organization

LITTLEROCK -- Residents in Littlerock and other rural areas in unincorporated Los Angeles County have used a Littlerock Town Council meeting to air their grievances against the very county officials whose help they will need if they ever hope to resolve ongoing land-use issues.

Thursday's meeting drew an estimated 80 to 100 people. Guest speaker Jan B. Tucker, a private investigator, spoke about civil rights and advised residents how to protect theirs in their battles with county code enforcement officers. Alternate Councilman Carl Iannalfo read from a council resolution that called on the civil rights divisions of the FBI and U.S. Department of Justice to investigate potential violations of U.S. conspiracy to violate civil rights statutes.

However, not all council members supported the resolution. Councilwoman Abbe Hofstein asked for a point of order at the meeting to point out the resolution was passed after a vote ended with a tie. At that point, Council President Bill Guild told Hofstein she was "out of order."
"I don't want my name on it because of what it says and the inflammatory language used," Hofstein replied.

Councilman Dennis Tetu, in a telephone conversation Tuesday morning, said he also voted no on the resolution."Some of us don't believe in it," Tetu said.

The bulk of the meeting was occupied with complaints by residents from Littlerock and other rural areas in the Antelope Valley such as Acton and Lake Los Angeles.

About 10 people alleged mistreatment at the hands of county code enforcement officers and sheriff's deputies but offered no evidence to support their claims or whether they filed formal complaints. The apparent theme among the speakers, many of whom spoke at length, was that they want to live on their land as they have for decades regardless of county codes.

After more than an hour of listening to residents' stories, Tetu said he asked whether they thought that, if they carried on as they did, they would get anything done by the county. He said afterward that some people agreed with him.

Although people aired their complaints to the Town Council, the council has no legislative power. Members serve on a voluntary basis as an advisory group for community matters and report to Los Angeles County Supervisor Michael D. Antonovich's office. Town councils also help to keep community members informed on county issues.

For nearly three years, members of the Littlerock and Sun Village town councils have worked to amend the Southeast Antelope Valley Community Standards District, which passed in June 2007 after a protracted effort that took about 15 years.

Then some residents started to receive citations from county code enforcement officers for violations such as having storage containers and commercial vehicles on their properties.

Council members set out to amend the document shortly after it passed to allow residents to keep the storage containers they have owned for years, and truck drivers to keep their big rigs on their properties. Additionally, the Antelope Valley Truckers Organization sprang up in defense of truckers' rights.

Nearly three years after the original Community Standards District passed, the Littlerock Town Council might be close to completing a draft amendment. However, the Littlerock Town Council will need Sun Village's Town Council to approve the draft amendment before it can be submitted to county planning officials. Once the county has the document, planners will vet it and organize public hearings.

James Brooks, president of the Sun Village Town Council, said he hasn't seen the final draft of the amendment."We decided once they have the final draft, let us have a look at it and put our stamp of approval on it," Brooks said. Ultimately, the proposed amendment must be approved by the county Board of Supervisors.

Members of the Los Angeles County Sheriff"s Department's Nuisance Abatement Team will explain their duties and address the testimonies at the next scheduled Littlerock Town Council meeting, at 7 p.m. June 10, at Alpine Grange Hall.


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All information posted on this web site is the opinion of the author and is provided for educational purposes only. It is not to be construed as medical advice. Only a licensed medical doctor can legally offer medical advice in the United States. Consult the healer of your choice for medical care and advice.