Jim Toreson gets excited when he speaks of his vision for the future of Lincoln Estates, of his plans for a burgeoning community in the middle of the Nevada desert.
Cielo. That's what he plans on calling it. The beautiful town of Cielo. A word that refers to the sky and the Heavens. And for Toreson, a man who has owned 1000 acres in the area since the early 90s, Cielo would be a slice of Heaven.
For the seventy people (or sixty, depending on whom you ask) that live in the nearby town of Rachel, that slice of Heaven already exists.
"It's like living out of a hallmark card," resident Robert Nelson beams.
The people of Rachel are a diverse yet tight knit community. Coming from all over America, each resident has found the town's otherworldly charms and picturesque views too hard to pass up.
Most of the townspeople I speak to decided to move to Rachel after initially just passing through. They would stop in the town for a day or two, find themselves coming back again and again, and eventually realize they liked it so much they needed to call it home.
Despite its small population, Rachel is a destination for tourists from all over the world. Being the closest town to the mysterious Area 51, the town has built a name and a reputation for UFO sightings, military aircraft testing, and an alien counterculture. The Little Aleinn, the town's lone bar/gift shop/motel, is famous worldwide.
There's just one problem.
The town of Rachel and the dream of Cielo can't coexist.
In order to build Lincoln Estates from 1000 empty lots into a suburban town, Toreson needs an infrastructure that the town of Rachel can't provide. He needs a strip mall. He needs a hospital. He needs a police force.
The citizens of Rachel don't want a strip mall. They don't feel the need for a hospital. They shudder at the thought that their town would need a police force.
But with a brand new prison in town, they would certainly need a police force.
You see, in order to get the necessary infrastructure in place, Toreson needs a draw. He's found that draw in the form of the private prison business. A suburban dream scape is a tough sell when you're located right next to a town known for UFO culture. But a prison creates jobs. And jobs create residents. Residents create business.
If you build it, they will come.
The town of Rachel worries about the "they" in that sentence. They have chosen to live in a secluded area, and they take pride in not having to lock their doors at night. A prison will most certainly change that.
So instead of investigating matters of paranormal activity in Rachel, I find myself in a courthouse in Pioche, Nevada, where half the town has driven two hours to protest Toreson's bid to build a private prison five miles from Rachel. They come with a petition signed by all but five of the town's residents.
After a long presentation from an (depending on whom you ask) impartial third party candidate, Toreson begins a slideshow presentation on the impacts a prison would have on Lincoln county. When he glosses over tourism as a benefit of the prison, the room erupts in dismay.
After the presentation is over, resident after resident approaches the board to give an impassioned plea for the welfare of their town.
Prisoners are visited by convicts. How will we ever feel safe again?
I lived in Chino when they put in a prison; one escape changed the fabric of that town forever.
What will happen to our night sky?
What will happen to the environment?
Rachel won't be a tourist town; it will be a prison town.
Not in my backyard.
It is clear that many of these people do not care for Mr. Toreson. They see him as a selfish, arrogant man driven only by monetary gain. They loathe the idea that their way of life could be so dramatically altered by a man who doesn't even live in Nevada.
It is also clear that Toreson does not think highly of many of the townspeople. He sees them as shortsighted, uneducated, and hostile. He hates the idea that his investment could be squandered by a group of people that can't understand that with his business located right next to the prison, he has more to lose than anyone.
People hear the word prison and they panic.
I'm only doing what's best for the county.
Rachel doesn't resemble a small town, it resembles an inner city.
How could they not want a police force?
How could they not want progress?
Not with my business.
The board of commissioners decides to postpone a decision until another meeting is held to address the issues of the townspeople.
This appeases the protesters. They will do everything in their legal right to keep a prison out of their town. It can't happen if they don't let it happen.
Toreson is happy too. Logic is on his side, he reasons. The board has to approve his plan for economic development. Progress is inevitable.
Looking for an outside perspective, I go to Barry Mills, PhD. A newcomer to Rachel, and a man born in a foreign land, Barry has the ability to provide a slightly more detached perspective.
"The two groups could never coincide peacefully. You would have a large population living in suburban houses on a hill overlooking a small population residing primarily in rvs and trailer homes. The newcomers would not only metaphorically, but quite literally be looking down on the townspeople."
And so the battle rages on. One man's search for Heaven has become an entire town's Hell.
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Another meeting has been set for next month. I have kept contact information with both sides and will make sure to keep you updated on the situation. In the meantime, if you wish to offer support, Jim Toreson and the owners of the Little Aleinn both keep websites with contact pages.
www.littlealeinn.com
www.lincolnestates.com
On a separate note, I will be at Burning Man for the next eight days and, as such, will likely have no cell phone or internet access. Consequently, I will be unable to blog for the next week. Fear not, for I promise that when I return to civilization I will have many tales of hedonism, debauchery, and acts of ironic stupidity. If you feel the need to pass the time until then, I highly recommend clicking on the link at the upper right hand of this blog and checking out my book.
Sorry, but I had to make one last stab at commercialism in case the hippies brainwash me.
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