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Looking back, 1972-1978
-by Chris Laning
Jump to:
Part II ('79
to '81) or Part III ('81
to '84) or
1976: The first store
The L Street
Store
1977:
Remodeling and revision
1978: The
move to Fifth Street
The first
paid staff
A step toward
incorporation
An optimistic
time
I was pedaling routinely down L Street on my
bicycle one day in the fall of 1976 when I saw an open garage door in
the block north of the Friends Meetinghouse. Inside, several people
were busy with saws, hammers and wood, building shelving. The sign said
"Davis Food Co-op" so I stopped. "Hey, glad to see you're opening a
store front," I said. "Yes, want to join?" they said. "That's all I was
waiting for."
The Co-op had been around for about four years in 1976, but I first
became involved with the store then, at 415 L Street. I've been a
member ever since. I've been on the staff in one job or another since
1979. In this "Looking Back" feature, I'll be giving you more of a
reminiscence than a real history. I've checked facts where I can, but
please bear in mind this is one very personal view. Anyone who was
around in those times is welcome to supply corrections. [N.B.: the
offer still stands, ten years after the most recent publication. Send
'em to dwalter[at]davisfood.coop]
Back in time: 1972
Like most food co-ops, this one started as a buying club. It began in
the spring of 1972 when several student co-op houses-including the
Agrarian Effort on campus-informally started ordering cheese, produce
and bulk dry goods together. By combining their food orders they could
get one big enough to buy direct from wholesalers.
The group, mostly students, faltered over the summer, but Ann Evans, a
member of one of the original co-op houses, called about 40 people and
got enough orders to keep it going. Orders grew rapidly and soon became
too big for the few people who were doing the ordering. Ann remembers
one herb order that was "just a disaster." So several people got
together to try to work out some kind of structure.
"We called everyone we knew to come to a meeting,"
recalls Ann. "There
were four of us: Neil Adams, who had experience with a buying club in
Boston; Bob and Sue Holland, who had been members of one at Antioch;
and I. Neil and I stayed up writing all one Saturday night. The next
day there were about 15 people at the meeting and they accepted the
structure we came up with. It actually proved to be a workable
structure for three or four years. That was also when we chose a
name-the 'People's Food Conspiracy.'"
The buying club was organized into "blocks"-eventually 14 of them. Each
block had 10 to 12 households. Work was rotated, with one household
each week taking charge of compiling the orders for house-holds in
their block, then receiving and dividing up the food. (That was a lot
of work for a household of one person, which is why I hadn't joined.)
One block each week was also "master block," compiling all the block
orders into a master order. Volunteers made the trips to wholesalers in
Sacramento to bring back the goods, which were divided up in someone's
garage. Cheese came from Tony's in West Sacramento, produce from local
growers and Abdallah Produce Company, and dry goods from Westbrae
Natural Foods. This was before the days of the Davis Farmer's Market,
so the buying club was one of the few ways you could get organic
produce, or produce from local growers.
The buying club operated out of various places including Diogenes House
(then downtown), the Methodist Church on Anderson Road, and people's
front lawns. It continued to grow rapidly.
As is always the case, a few dedicated members put in more work than
anyone else-but many people did contribute large amounts of time and
effort, and in return received joy, backaches, community spirit, and
food at 20% to 30% below retail.
Even in those days, there were disagreements. "Not so much about food,"
recalls Ann: "We were pretty much all natural-food people. But one
group of about twenty households did split off because they felt the
co-op was getting too big. There was also a lot of controversy when we
hired our first paid coordinator." That was Dwight Patterson. Several
others also took a turn as coordinator, including Alice Swan and
Mary-Ellen Hennessey (Maynard). "The pay was pretty nominal," comments
Ann, "at first, just an extra discount on food."
1976: The first store
Like many buying clubs, membership and interest peaked at about four
years, then began to decline as fewer people were willing to put in a
lot of time. A group of core members, including Henry Esbenshade (then
a fruit grower in Winters, now in Australia), Kathy Cerna (Grant),
Martin Barnes, Dave and Judy Scott, and Ann Evans, decided the co-op
could have a storefront for about the same time and energy.
They got a lot of members together for a potluck at the 5th and J
Street house, and asked Morrie Lippmann and Jerry Kresy from Associated
Coopera-tives (which then had a wholesale business with a warehouse in
Richmond-it's now a food broker) to come and talk to them about how to
open a store.
"We were really enthusiastic and had over $4000 in loans and pledges
from members," recalls Ann. "They told us there was no way we
could open a store with only $4000. But the energy was so high at that
meeting that we decided to go ahead anyway and formed committees. A lot
of people put in incredible amounts of time-just gave their lives-to
open that store."
Henry Esbenshade was the one who found the place. 415 L Street had been
a bulk dog-food store that was going out of business. Ann painted the
sign and oversaw all the city processes, including getting the sign
approved by the Design Review Commission, which she later served on.
Many people pitched in to build shelves and counters. The folks at
Associated Co-ops were really helpful. "They couldn't believe it when
we came down for our first order of canned and packaged goods only two
days before the store was due to open. But they helped us make sure
everything got there on time." There was a big party when the store
opened on December 18, 1976.
The L Street Store
The whole store was only 600 square feet, about 1/20th of our current
aisle area. Imagine a space about 2 of our aisles wide and 12 of an
aisle long. Into that we put a cash register and scale, a standing
cooler with doors, with cheese and dairy products on one side and
produce on the other, a row of produce boxes down the middle and two
very small side aisles of bulk dry goods and canned and packaged goods.
There were also bulletin boards (of course!). Two people could
pass each other in the aisles if neither one was pushing a shopping
cart or had a backpack on. I used to tell people at orientations that
"we cut the cheese in a closet." Actually it wasn't a closet but a very
small passageway between the tiny office and the tiny bathroom in the
back of the store. It had a wide doorway, and we put a narrow counter
across the back wall.
Shipments from A.C. had to sit outside on the sidewalk until they got
stocked on the shelves inside. That was all right because they had to
be brought up here in two or three trips in the co-op's trusty (?)
white van, a gift from Peter Keat (who is now [former] president of
Sacramento Natural Foods Co-op). We had a policy that we would not
carry a packaged product if the product was also available in bulk. All
products were priced at 15% over wholesale for members and 35% for
non-members.
When I joined, there were no shares. You paid a non-refundable $10 for
a "lifetime membership" for your household of 1 to 5 people. All
households were required to work 2 hours per month, either in the store
or on one of the Co-op's committees. There were no paid staff. The
store was run by "Day Co-ordinators," volun-teers who worked a half-day
shift every week. There was no Board of Directors. Co-op policies were
decided at "Policy Meetings" open to all members, held once a month.
Weekly Store Operations Meetings were held for DCs and the Orderers'
Collective every Tuesday night at 7:30. The store was open 12 to 8
Monday through Friday and 10 to 6 on Saturday. It was closed Sundays;
the Saturday night closers donated any produce that wouldn't keep over
the weekend to the Community Meal.
Probably the experience I had was typical. I went to an orientation
meeting, after hours in the store one evening, where we all sat on the
cold concrete floor and went around the circle introducing ourselves
and saying why we were interested in the Co-op. About half the people
said "because I can get my food cheaper" and the other half said "to
destroy the capitalist system." For my first two years as a member I
did my 2 hours a month by providing an "herb of the month" display.
The time was right and the prices were right. The co-op membership grew
rapidly. When the storefront opened, there were about 200 member
households. Within two years it was 750. About 70% were students.
Inventory nearly doubled, from around $4,000 to $7,000. Early
"mainstay" members included-besides those already mentioned-Mary
Tappel, Eric Hiaasen, Jackie Lundy, Peter Rosenthal, Linda Morgan
(Morgan Richardson), Deidre Busacca, Miles Merwin and Libby Hise
(Merwin), Steve Uhl, Rhonda Smith, and Bud Bliss. These are only a few
names out of many. Interestingly, many of our "core members" wound up
on the co-op board or on committees. In some other co-ops starting
about the same time-most notably Arcata-"core members" tended to
gravitate toward being on the paid staff instead.
The Co-op had a very close relationship with the Davis Farmer's Market,
which also began in 1976. A lot of the same members were involved in
starting both, including Jeff and Annie Main. The Co-op helped attract
farmers to the market by guaranteeing that the Co-op would buy anything
that didn't sell at the Saturday market.
1977: Remodeling and revision
The store space was remodeled in August and September 1977. Although
the demand for both more packaged foods and more bulk foods was
recognized, the net effect of the remodeling was to increase the shelf
space occupied by packaged foods, but not the space for bulk foods.
This produced arguments about whether the co-op was remaining true to
its commitment to "emphasis on basic foods." We have always carried
both health foods and some standard grocery foods, and the
disagreements about product line and emphasis have been perpetual. One
member "was just about ready to lay down and die" says Ann, before he
would agree to the co-op's carrying white sugar.
Member support for honoring boycotts was strong. The co-op honored all
UFW boycotts, which then included Campbell's products, and we also
boycotted Nestlé, Del Monte, and Dole products, and all
yellow-fin tuna. A collecting can for a "voluntary tax" on Third
World-produced products such as bananas and coffee stood on the cash
register. The proceeds were donated to the American Friends Service
Committee.
Discussion about incorporation as a "cooperative corporation" (a
special type of corporation, newly authorized under California law) had
begun in 1976, about the same time as discussion about opening a store,
but it took a lot longer to accomplish. In fact, the process wasn't
completely finished till 1981. The advantages of incorporating include
increased credibility, the possibility of reducing taxes through
patronage refunds to members, and limited liability-the protection of
members' personal assets if the co-op were sued. Members voted at the
March 1st, 1977 Policy Meeting to begin proceedings to incorporate the
co-op as a cooperative corporation. Proposed bylaws were drafted during
the year and went through many revisions-no one knows how many.
One problem that we wrestled with at the time is the fact that
incorporation requires you to have a board of directors. Some members
resisted that, because of their strong commitment to the system we were
using-monthly Policy Meetings where all members present could vote.
Ways of compromising with this requirement were discussed, but
eventually the bylaws did provide for a board, though it had very
little power.
1978: The move to Fifth Street
A New Store Committee was formed late in 1977 and in the January, 1978
issue of OEKOS, the co-op newsletter, it advertised for suggestions.
Things moved fast. The decision to lease space in the new building
going up at 1403 Fifth Street-just a couple of blocks away-was made
February 15th. It was a bit rushed because another tenant wanted the
space. A crash campaign began to find member loans to finance the move
and new inventory, along with trucks, lumber, refrigeration equipment,
dollies, paint, ideas and help with construction and moving. The move
was made April 1st, with a long line of shopping carts trundling up and
down L Street carrying everything imaginable from the old store to the
new. Many members turned out to help. (Carol Shearly, later to be
General Manager, helped; I didn't.)
We began with just one large room-Suite "A," 2160 square feet-at the
end of the building furthest from Fifth Street. We built a walk-in
cooler for produce, dairy and cheese, with three glass doors on the
front. Member artists did a series of four posters for the space above
these doors, with the themes, "Working Together," "Volunteer Work,"
"Organic Produce" and "Direct Marketing" (for the latter two
illustrations, see pages 15 and 14 of this issue). Behind the cooler
was storeroom area. Just prior to the move there was a 2/3 to 1/3 vote not
to begin a proposed phase-out of certain canned and processed foods.
But it was decided to double the bulk foods
selection in the new store, while not increasing the space for packaged
foods at all, as members felt packaged foods had received too much
emphasis in the 1977 remodeling of the L Street store.
While considering other sites for a store, previous to finding the 1403
Fifth Street site, the Policy Committee had discussed very positively
possible inventory expansions in the following areas: expanding books,
going into some basic hardware and garden supplies, and possibly into
some basic clothing such as jeans and shirts. One of the floor plans
for the expansion at the 1403 Fifth Street site showed a hardware and
garden supply section.
The first paid staff
With the move to the new store, the work requirement-which had been 2
hours a month per household regardless of size-was raised to 4 hours a
month for households of 3 or more adults. (It's still 4 hours for
households of 3 or 4.) In May 1978, attendance at an orientation became
a requirement for all new members.
Around this time the famous carrot-and-fist logo made its first
appearance. Several logos had been used before this, including two pine
trees in a circle, the "twin pines" being a well-known symbol for
co-ops around the world. The carrot and fist, however, won a member
contest and was adopted as our particular trademark
(which it remained until our new "fields and sky" logo was adopted in
1988).
Many members have always loved the carrot and fist, and find it amusing
and irreverent. "I always saw it as a clever and mildly jovial image,"
says Evan Sugden. Other members have always been embarrassed by it.
Serious consideration was also given to hiring some paid staff. The
Administrative Subcommittee proposed hiring a 3-person "managerial
collective"-a bookkeeper, a "Day Coordinator Coordinator" (!) and an
"Orderer Coordinator" to provide some continuity and fill in gaps when
volunteer workers didn't materialize. There was considerable debate,
some members being concerned that paid people would become a
"hierarchy" and discourage volunteer involvement, or acquire a
disproportionate share of power. Proposals were made that paid jobs be
rotated every few months so no one would have too much of a stake in
the job. The need for skilled help with bookkeeping was most urgent,
and Lois Richter was hired in August 1978 as the Co-op's part-time
bookkeeper for $3.75 an hour.
In the meantime, we were able to get two temporary staff members
through the CETA program, a federal program designed to give job
training to the unemployed. Mary Ellen Hennessey (Maynard) and Linda
Morgan (Morgan Richardson), both long-time Day Coordinators, were hired
and worked for the Co-op full time from early spring through August,
when Proposition 13 cut off CETA funds.
Morgan, by the way, was respon-sible for the first "junk food" the
Co-op carried, Mystic Mints cookies, a favorite of hers. We still carry
them, and while they are sweetened with white
sugar, in fair-ness it has to be said that they are made with real
cocoa and peppermint oil rather than synthetic substitutes.
When Mellon and Morgan left, Day Coordinator Jim Havert proposed
another solution. He had been volunteering 20 to 40 hours per week as a
DC and DC Coordinator, and submitted a proposal that he be hired as an
all-purpose "Resource Coordinator" for $70 per week. He proposed to
take on a long list of responsibilities, from receiving shipments,
handling special orders, and setting up a filing system to recruiting
and training DCs and setting up a publicity committee.
His proposal was approved late one evening at a Policy Meeting, without
much advance publicity-which drew the predictable protest from a number
of members. "This issue has been one of the most divisive issues within
our co-op," charged a letter to the Co-op newsletter. "The reasonable
manner in which to make a decision of this sort is to present
alternatives along with the arguments, or allow other interested
parties to submit responses and/or proposalsThe job description which
Jim submitted is clearly that of a managerwe are not opposed to paying
people for specific skills, buthiring a manager has historically been
the death-knell for active member participation in contemporary,
open-membership co-ops." Nevertheless, Jim must have proved
indispensable, as he continued in the job from early November 1978
through April of 1979.
It's getting ahead of the story a bit, but in April 1979 something like
the original "managerial collective" was finally put in place when
Jim-who by that time was burned out and ready to leave-was replaced by
two half-time "Resource Coordinators," Lisa Vittori and myself.
A step toward incorporation
Incorporation took another step forward in 1978 and then tied itself up
in a knot, where it remained for almost three more years. There is a
record of the Policy Meeting's original vote to incorporate in 1977.
Several people remember clearly that in February 1978 the Policy
Meeting re-affirmed this decision and authorized Incorporation
Committee to pay the filing fees and file the incorporation papers.
Others dispute the terms of that authorization, and the minutes of that
meeting no longer exist.
As chair of the Incorporation Committee, Ann Evans recruited eight
other members to serve as an incorporating Board of Directors, and on
August 24, 1978, they filed incorporation papers for us with the State
of California. Besides Ann, the other original Directors were Bud
Bliss, Martin Barnes, Jackie Lundy, Mary Tappel, Jim Havert, Deidre
Busacca, Robert Burney and Evan Sugden.
The filing created a "paper corporation," the Davis Food Co-op, Inc.,
which had only its directors and owned nothing. The Co-op's real
membership, and the business with its assets and liabilities, still
belonged to a separate organization, called "The Davis Food Co-op, An
Association" to keep the two straight. An association is legally very
much like a giant partnership, with all members jointly owning the
business. An association has none of the liability protection or other
special privileges of corporations.
What remained to be done was to "merge" the DFC corporation and the
association. A proposal was made to do this at the September Policy
Meeting. Unfortunately the proposal mentioned "transferring the assets"
of the corporation but didn't mention the liabilities.
Maxine Heffner, a retired publicist and chair of the Co-op newsletter
committee, immediately took alarm when she heard this a few days before
the meeting. Taking the proposal literally the way it had been worded,
she believed that the association would be giving away its assets, but
would still be stuck with all the liabilities and open to lawsuits. She
charged that this amounted to an attempted "take-over" by the
corpor-ate board. Maxine deposited the Co-op's mailing list in her bank
safe-deposit box and prepared a four-page special newsletter to inform
members of the situation as she understood it. When board members
prevented the newsletter from being printed, she called the media, and
an article appeared in the next day's Davis Enterprise.
This probably increased attendance at the Policy Meeting considerably!
The meeting was later described as a "4-hour marathon" of "heated
discussion." Many members attending were confused about incorporation;
others understood the basic issue but disagreed with the decision to
incorporate, or were angry at the way they felt it had been handled.
The benefits and drawbacks of incorporation were again debated, as well
as the relative powers of the Board of Directors and the Policy Meeting
if the merger went through. In the end, the meeting agreed that three
directors from the "DFC, Inc." would negotiate with three members
appointed by the Policy Meeting for "DFC, Association" to come up with
a set of bylaws under which the Association would be willing to
transfer everything to the corporation. These would be voted on by the
members of the Association.
Maxine resigned or was fired as newsletter editor and wrote an 8-page,
single-spaced typed letter defending her actions. The Co-op recovered
its mailing list and began working more closely with lawyers, but the
merger of the corporation and the association didn't take place until
February, 1981. One reason was that every time a new lawyer offered to
help, it took twenty minutes to explain to the slightly incredulous
lawyer how things had gotten into such a tangle. There were also
several issues in the bylaws that took time to resolve.
Tony Mendoza took over the Co-op newsletter and
within a few weeks put out the first issue since April-Maxine, rather
than publishing each month, had embarked on an ambitious expansion of
the newsletter with a new name, "Omega," but had not completed this
when the trouble began.
This was not the first co-op controversy, of course. Nor was it the
last. Things did go a little more smoothly after this embarrassment,
however, though a number of members mistrusted each other for a long
time afterwards.
An optimistic time
Two fairly successful projects that were gathering momentum around this
time were a regional association of co-ops and farmers called REACH,
and a statewide California Cooperative Federation.
REACH stands for "Research, Education and Action for Cooperatives and
Health." The original purposes of the regional and statewide
organizations included not only sharing between consumer co-ops, but
combining co-ops' buying power, providing group health insurance, and
coordinating growers who needed markets with co-ops that needed
produce. The name of REACH's newsletter, "On the Market" (abbreviated
OM), stemmed from its original hope of serving as a regional market.
Organization of CCF and REACH had begun in 1976 with members of several
consumer co-ops. As might be expected, many of the same people were
involved in both, as well as in the founding of local co-ops and
Farmers' Markets. Ann Evans was on the first Board of Directors of
REACH when it filed for incorpor-ation as a non-profit corporation in
August, 1978.
Member co-ops had high hopes for organizing a regional food warehouse.
Natural and bulk foods distributors were fewer and farther between than
they are now, and many in Northern California did not deliver outside
the Bay Area. The Sacramento Valley was and is an agricultural area,
and what could be more logical than for co-ops to buy from local
growers? Member co-ops included the still existing Sacramento Natural
Foods Co-op, Grass Valley Briarpatch Co-op, Chico Homes (a housing
co-op) and Chico Natural Foods (a food co-op). Several others are now
gone: Tree of Life (Auburn), We the People (Kings Beach), Washoe-Zephyr
(Reno), People of Progress (Redding), and Lassen Natural Foods
(Susanville). [Washoe-Zephyr was still operating when Chris wrote this;
they persisted at least until May 2000, but died out during the next
several years.]
In general, optimism about the co-op movement was high in 1978.
"Co-operation-working together to benefit ourselves and others-is a
beginning for us," says a flyer about the co-op produced around this
time. "A beginning? It is the start in what we all eventually
want-control over our own lives. We do more than just provide ourselves
with cheaper food. We choose the kinds of food, assuring ourselves good
quality food. We choose whom we will purchase food
from-promoting the purchase of food from alternative food groups,
especially the buying of produce from town gardeners and small farmers
in this area. A lot of our produce is still 'alive' when it reaches the
store. We choose whom not to purchase items
from-trying not to promote companies that exploit people or our planet.
We choose how it is to be purchased-supporting
buying in bulk so useless packaging is not promoted. Also we may buy
the quantity we need and are not forced to buy extra because of the
size package it comes in. We support all recycling and ask members to
re-use bags and jars in their shopping."
.
[A version of this article appeared in the Davis
Co-op News in October 1987. This
version was published in 1992.]
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(Part II) |
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Looking back,
1979-1981
-by
Chris Laning
Jump to:
Part I ('72
to '78) or Part III ('81
to '84) or
Growing into the 5th
St. store
1st annual
August crisis
Whatever
happened to incorporation?
Spring and
summer 1980
Controversy
rears its ugly head
Somehow the story that comes to mind when I think
of my first three years on the Co-op staff is the story of what we
found in the Co-op attic. I was living in a house with four other
people, one of them a volunteer firefighter. One evening in 1979 his
'squawk box' went off and announced a call for all volunteer
firefighters to 1403 Fifth Street. The Co-op
address. My stomach sank.
Fortunately Tom was only gone about an hour, and when he came back, he
told me everything was fine. They'd been called out as a precaution
because someone doing repairs had occasion to go into the crawl space
above the ceiling and found up there a can of black gunpowder. Almost
certainly it had been up there for years, left behind by some carpenter
using a nail gun.
Whether the presence of gunpowder in the attic had some deep karmic
significance, I don't know, but I remember this and the next two years
as years of really horrible co-op politics. As I've said before, this
is in many ways as much a personal reminiscence as a history, and all I
can give you is my own view, though I think I've been a pretty fair
observer. It's hard to write about this time, though, even ten years
later, because I was right in the thick of it. I don't think it's a
time anyone can be proud of.
The store ran reasonably well-with one major exception which I'll get
to-and showed a steady growth in sales, from $30,000 per month in April
of 1979 to $97,000 at the end of 1981. (We do $30,000 in about two days
now.) Membership grew with the move to the Fifth Street store, then
leveled off for about eighteen months, and began to grow again towards
the end of 1981. But philosophical disputes, ideals, and personality
conflicts racked the co-op, splitting the Board and staff and confusing
the membership.
Controversy centered around three major issues, and probably all of
them will sound familiar natural foods, member work, and expansion. All
three have roots going all the way back to the buying club and the
co-op's founders. Each in turn came to dominate the co-op at some
point, and to some extent they still linger today, though hopefully
we're better at dealing with them.
Growing into the 5th St. store
In early 1979 we had been in the Fifth Street store for almost a year,
and when Yesterday's Records and Books moved out of the two suites next
door, the Co-op agreed to lease them. This increased our space from
2,100 to 3,300 square feet (including storeroom and office space).
Frozen foods headed the list of products we hoped to add, along with
more grocery and bulk items, garden supplies and housewares, and health
and beauty aids. In March we bought our first electronic cash registers
and scale; until then we'd been using the old mechanical kind. In
April, when I was hired, remodeling of the new space was proceeding
slowly. Partition walls had been knocked out, but we had to re-tile the
floor, do plumbing and electrical work, and build a new walk-in
refrigerator. This was financed by several thousand dollars in
interest-free loans from individual members.
Kelly Cordner had been hired as the new bookkeeper in January,
replacing Lois Richter who was leaving town. Lisa Vittori and I were
hired as half-time "Resource Coordinators," replacing Jim Havert who
had been working for the Co-op since November and was burned out. It
was impressed upon us that our primary responsibility was not to "run"
the store ourselves, but to coordinate the member volunteers who did,
including orderers, cashiers, and the Day Coordinators who worked as
volunteer floor managers one half-day a week. We were to recruit and
train member workers, coordinate schedules, substitute for people who
didn't show up, manage the office, keep records, and make reports to
Policy Committee. ("Resource Coordinator" doesn't really convey this,
but the title "Coordinator of coordina-tors" had been considered and
rejected!)
Associated Co-ops (AC) in Richmond was a cooperative wholesale
warehouse owned by consumer co-ops in Northern California, including
the Berkeley and Palo Alto co-ops (which then had several stores
apiece). In the spring of 1979 they hired Fred Stapenhorst, former
manager of the Arcata Co-op, as their Development Officer. AC offered
to send Fred to study our co-op and suggest ways we could run more
efficiently. Fred was friendly and competent, though I think we amused
him a little-he said it had been a long time since he'd sat on a
grocery pallet to do paperwork.
In July he issued his report, which made several suggestions. He
pointed out that with an almost all-volunteer and very part-time staff
we didn't have much financial accountability: no one person or group
was responsible for making and sticking to a budget. Inventory control,
pricing, setting markups, cash secur-ity and cash flow control were
disorgan-ized and dif-fuse. As a step toward regularizing our status he
recom-mended empowering the Board of Directors-which up until now had
been mostly a figurehead-to become the Co-op's policy-making body. He
also pointed out that our expansion was stalled.
We didn't have enough volunteer help to get the
remodeling done, yet we were still paying rent on the space though it
wasn't bringing in anything. He recommended we get that done as soon as
possible. These ideas were well received.
He also infuriated a number of Day Coordinators and other volunteers,
however, by saying it was "unrealistic" to expect volunteers to perform
store functions adequately and that dependence on volunteers was the
source of most, if not all, our problems. He recommen-ded that all
ordering, pricing, budgeting and scheduling be done by paid staff. That
advice we didn't take.
1st annual August crisis
We thought things were going fairly well, though, until August. Then
two things happened. First, Kelly's first complete financial report
showed that, rather than making $1300 in the fall of 1978, we had
actually lost $500. Winter quarter we had lost $1300 and a further $150
spring quarter. This explained why our cash flow was so tight. Then on
August 10th we bounced a $5000 check to Associated Co-ops.
There were rumors at the time, none ever confirmed, about just how this
happened. AC informed us they would make no further deliveries without
COD payment unless we demonstrated "significant progress" toward
meeting our financial obligations. Fred Stapenhorst told the Board he
would recommend AC extend credit to us, but only if "a competent and
knowledgeable manager" was put in charge, and he named Kelly. The Board
agreed and hired Kelly as interim general manager, with full powers
including hiring and firing staff.
Kelly acted quickly to start requiring record sheets for each cash
register, sell off some excess inventory, ask for credit from our other
suppliers and draw up an "austerity budget" for finishing the
expansion. This averted any more immediate crises.
Within the next month Kelly had accepted the Board's Management
Committee's proposal to reorganize and expand the paid staff to five:
the General Man-ager, a Produce Manager, Grocery Manager and two
"Evening Managers." Day Coordinators and other volunteers would
continue to be used, although paid staff took over much of the ordering
and receiving. The Resource Coordinator jobs were abolished; I was
re-hired as an Evening Manager, but Lisa wasn't, which she resented
(though the Co-op later settled with her). Chuck Kasmire was hired as
Produce Manager, Mary Tappel (a longtime member) as Grocery Manager,
and John Wagoner as the other Evening Manager.
The Woodland Food Co-op was being organized around this time, and at
one of our August Board meetings, amidst all our own crises, we found
time to grant them "co-purchase" privileges so they could buy food at
whole-sale to sell at the Woodland Farmer's Market. The Blue Mango
restaurant, a workers' collective several of our members were involved
in starting, also opened on October 1st. October also saw our first
newspaper advertising of the Co-op. The new store area was finished by
the end of the month. I was given the job of "Communications
Coordinator" and began putting out the Co-op newsletter OIKOS, which
hadn't been published since about May.
By the new year, Chuck had been hired to replace Kelly as General
Manager. Kelly knew when he accepted the job in August that he would be
leaving town soon, and had asked both Chuck and me if we were
interested in the job (I said no way). Fred Stapenhorst had offered to
spend six months with us as a consultant to help train the new manager,
since none of us on staff had ever run a grocery store before. Sales
were running at $54,000 per month and we had about 575 active
members-and at this time, remember, to be active you had to be a
working member. In January for the first and only time we had a "member
work glut" where more people wanted to work in the store than there
were slots for.
Whatever happened to
incorporation?
If you remember, at the end of 1978 we had formed a "paper
corporation", the Davis Food Co-op, Inc., but it didn't actually own
the co-op. It took us until February 1981, two-and-a-half years, to
work out the "merger" and become incorporated. Part of the problem was
that we kept having to fix things in our bylaws. In February 1980 we
had the first of a long series of elections to amend the bylaws; we
needed to add such things as a provision for replacing board members
who resigned. We had had four Board members resign in the past six
months, and needed to elect people to replace them at least until May,
when we would have our first regular Board election. An amendment was
also passed allowing one paid staff member to serve on the board.
Rather than sending out a mail ballot as we do now, these decisions
were made at a membership meeting, though we did have to ask people to
go telephone their friends so we could get enough voting members at the
meeting to have a quorum (about 40).
In order to incorporate, we also had to clean up our membership files.
Since we didn't have a computer, the current membership file was kept
as a card file. Each household had a card which had all household
members listed and was stamped whenever someone from the household
worked. The cards were kept at the cash register, and when you checked
out, you removed your card and showed it to the cashier. Of course the
cards were easy to lose or get out of alphabetical order. We had files
of membership applications and receipts (from the days before
applications) in the office, but no one had ever compared these with
the card file up front until now. About 25% of the cards had no
membership application on file; probably most of them represented
membership transfers or households splitting without the proper forms
being filled out. Membership at the time was in the name of everyone in
the household, not just one person, so when a household split up, one
membership sometimes became two or three.
We sent a letter to everyone who didn't have an
application on file, asking them to bring in some proof of membership
such as an old receipt, and despite having to deal with some flak from
offended members ("I've been a member for years; are you saying you
don't believe me?") by the end of the year we had a membership list we
were fairly confident represented reality. We still refer to that list
occasionally when someone appears who's been gone a long time.
Spring and summer 1980
This year saw us continue to expand our product line and paid staff.
Our first capital improvements budget, early in the year, listed
shelving, bulk units, and shopping carts, all things that still turn up
in capital budgets. In March the Board approved an exemption from the
work require-ment for senior citizens and for new parents with babies
less than six months old. (Disabled people could already be active
members without working in the store.) Non-member price in the store
changed from a flat 35% mark-up to "suggested retail," meaning the gap
between member and non-member prices could vary from a few cents to a
substantial amount.
My job of "Communications Coordinator" was split into three:
Communications Coordinator, Newsletter Editor, and the Board Secretary,
who was responsible for Board minutes and membership records. Greg
Voss, recently hired as Dairy/Deli Manager, took over the newsletter
and (unilaterally) changed its name from OIKOS to "Coop News." A
cartoon pig saying "Oikos!" appeared in the margins occasionally for a
while. Articles on food, cooking, health and nutrition made up a major
part of the "new" newsletter (it had been mostly store news and
announcements before). The type got bigger, too.
In May, "Women in Co-ops" held its second annual retreat. I didn't go,
but Carol Shearly, who had just been hired as a floor manager, did. (I
had trained her as a new Day Coordinator a few months before.) The
Co-op also participated in a panel discussion with the Blue Mango,
Sunwise Housing Co-op, Winds of Change alternative
newspaper, and the justforming Cable TV Co-op on "The future of
cooperatives in Yolo County." We also had our first Co-op-sponsored
City softball team, complete with "Co-op" hats.
A real landmark in the summer of 1980 was frozen orange juice. We
finally got a freezer big enough to start offering frozen orange juice
and frozen fish, both from Associated Co-ops. Frozen OJ had been our #1
most requested item as long as I'd been working there. The problem was,
the minimum order was something like 10 cases and we had nowhere to put
it. In the meantime, members would go to another store just for that
one item and -you know what grocery shopping is like-wind up spending
$25.
Controversy rears its ugly head
I haven't said much about the three controversies I mentioned at the
beginning of this article. The debate about natural foods had been
simmering all along, going all the way back to the first store on L
Street. In July an indignant member wrote in the newsletter,
"Since I arrived in Davis in September I have witnessed a steady
progression away from goals and services which are considered
alternative and an increasing supply of items which can be found in
every supermarket in the nation. Organic produce is often not
available. High quality vitamins have been replaced by the cheaper
non-organic brandI question whether the majority of shoppers at the
Davis Food Co-op want to be able to purchase there the same products
that are available at Albertson's or Safeway. These products feed that
corporate entity that is responsible for black genocide, Rancho Seco,
and Napa State Hospital among other ills in our society. If consumers
really want to support these people, I suggest they do it at Safeway
and leave the Co-op for those who really want an alternative."
Others were pleased by such landmarks as frozen orange juice. We
finally got a freezer big enough in the summer of 1980 to start
offering frozen orange juice and fish. Frozen OJ had been our #1 most
requested item as long as I'd been working there. The problem was, the
minimum order was something like 10 cases and we had nowhere to put it.
In the meantime, members would go to another store just for that one
item and wind up spending $25.
Member work also remained controversial. Unlike the "Resource
Coordinators," most of the later staff were hired more for their
experience in managing and moving groceries than for any particular
desire to work with volunteers. Both sides found this difficult.
"Members can descend upon the store armed with twenty-six instant
demands, regardless of the workload staff already has," says an opinion
article in the newsletter around this time. "Staff can become so
involved with a hundred things that must be done
that they can't take the time to talk to mem-bers. Members get sore
because things they expect aren't always done for them. Staff get sore
when mem-bers take forty-five minutes to get a bucket of mop water."
Various co-op "experts" disagrees publicly over whether member labor in
the store actually saved money or whether it cost more in supervision
than it was worth. Yet members in this co-op have
always valued being able to work in the store, and we're one of the few
co-ops anywhere near our size that still has a member work program
today.
The Woodland Food Co-op was being organized around
this time, and at one of our August Board meetings, amidst all our own
crises, we found time to grant them "co-purchase" privileges so they
could buy food at whole-sale to sell at the Woodland Farmer's Market.
The Blue Mango restaurant also opened on October 1st. In May, "Women in
Co-ops" held its second annual retreat. The Co-op also participated in
a panel discussion with the Blue Mango, Sunwise Housing Co-op, Winds of
Change alternative newspaper, and the just-forming Cable TV Co-op on
"The future of cooperatives in Yolo County." We also had our first
Co-op-sponsored City softball team, complete with hats.
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(Part
III)
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Looking Back,
1981-84: A lightening of the air
-by
Chris Laning
Jump to:
Part I ('72
to '78) or Part II ('79
to '81)
There was a noticeable lightening-up of the
atmosphere in the Davis Food Co-op towards the end of 1981. Part of the
reason was that the membership voted that November not to move into the
empty Safeway building on G Street. Larry Pavey, another supermarket
operator, signed a lease for that site, and so that option was no
longer available to us, at least for the present. That took off some of
the pressure.
The other reason for the new atmosphere, I think, was the new General
Manager. Carol Shearly had taken over in June from Chuck Kasmire, who
had been having increasing difficulty-it shows up in the Board
minutes-dealing with Board and committee members who often didn't agree
with him. Co-op membership had also stopped growing during Chuck's
eighteen months as manager, though sales continued to increase.
Carol showed an immediate talent for conveying to people on all sides
of a controversy that she was listening to what they said. Feeling that
they were being heard made even the most vocal critics calm down and
start to consider how they might work with each other, rather than
trying to out-shout or manipulate each other.
Carol was someone who had come "up through the ranks." She started as a
volunteer Day Coordinator (equivalent to today's SuperWorker), was
hired in 1980 as a floor manager, took a summer off to backpack the
length of California with her two sisters (their T-shirts said "Slowly
but Shearly"), and became dairy/deli manager before being hired as
General Manager.
Hopeful times
For those who see co-ops, not just as individual businesses, but as
parts of a comprehensive co-op way of life, the early 80s were hopeful
years. The Blue Mango restaurant, a workers' collective, opened in
October (Co-op Month) 1979. A food co-op was being organized in
Woodland. A cable TV co-op, the nation's first, was bidding for Davis's
cable TV franchise. In the summer of 1980 we co-sponsored the first of
several annual panel discussions on "The Future of Cooperatives in Yolo
County," with Sunwise cooperative housing and Winds of Change
alternative newspaper. David Thompson comments these are the only years
he really felt like part of a "co-op movement."
1981 saw the completion at long last of the Davis Food Co-op's
incorporation. In 1978 we had formed a "paper corporation", the "Davis
Food Co-op, Inc.," but it didn't actually own the Co-op. Then we had to
negotiate a merger, or "asset transfer" between the Co-op and the
corporation. Every time we consulted a new lawyer, we had to spend at
least twenty minutes explaining this peculiar situation. We also kept
having to fix essential things in our bylaws to make them legal and
functional. And we had to clean up our membership files, which had
mostly been kept as a card file and never cross-checked. Finally on
February 2, 1981, the Board signed the transfer papers, to the
accompaniment of speeches and champagne.
These years also saw our struggles to organize member workers into
"teams," a concept that worked well for some other co-ops but never
caught on here. The theory was that you chose a team to sign up for-
say, the "Monday Night Food Ball"-and showed up on the third Monday of
every month at 8pm to stock the grocery shelves. Unfortunately, the
number of Davisites who have schedules regular enough to make this work
can be counted on one hand. Teams also take somewhat more effort on the
part of staff.
Member work in the store-which was still a requirement for everyone
except senior citizens and the disabled-was itself still controversial.
"Stocking shelves, cutting cheese, and mopping floors teach little of
the cooperative spirit," said Grocery Manager Tom Merrill in the
newsletter. "Minor social benefits aside, the current volunteer system
costs more than it benefits. Products are constantly mispriced,
mislabeled, and improperly stocked."
Others disagreed. "Having members work in the store means people from
every household have regular contact with the inside workings," said
another writer. "Like the city kids who think milk grows in bottles, we
usually don't get to see this side of things. Here, members' arms and
backs learn what fifty pounds of rice feels like. We open cartons. We
see invoices and sales journal tapes and handle money. Many members who
work want to know more about how the Co-op runs, and we want a say in
how things are done and why."
Besides ongoing political controversies, we had our share of other
excitement. We began selling beer and wine in summer 1981 (58% of
members voting in the spring election approved). Bulk spring water
arrived in September. The first annual Co-op Halloween Party, held in
our parking lot, drew 350 people. November saw the first annual Davis
Wine Festival, organized by member worker Ed Blonz, who still comes by
the Co-op on occasion when he's in town. (The Board voted him a "Golden
Carrot" for his many hours of work.) The day before Thanksgiving-which
has always been our biggest sales day of the year-the deli walk-in
broke down while filled with turkeys.
And then, of course, there was the November vote on the move to G
Street, which produced lots of heated rhetoric, active campaigning by
all sides and eventually a 55%-45% "no" vote.
1982: from down to up
The bad news hit early in 1982: though everything looked like it was
going well, and sales were continuing to increase, the Co-op was losing
money. An audit by Lynn MacDonald from Associated Co-ops showed we had
actually been losing money for about two years. Some of it was "paper
losses," from not calculating depreciation and accruals correctly, but
that still had an impact on our cash flow. Also our lack of
capital-each member at this point had only $10 in shares-meant we were
trying to pay for long-term things like remodeling entirely out of
current cash flow.
To our credit, we immediately tightened our belts. Margin was raised,
staff hours re-organized, a leafletting campaign was started to boost
sales, and the Board suspended share refunds for departing members
until the situation eased. (People got their money about a year later.)
Carol also started monthly inventories and began calculating the margin
separately for each department to try to locate areas that weren't
doing well.
The Co-op's strength showed clearly in how quickly we began to recover.
In the first quarter of our fiscal year (October through December 1981)
we had lost $6,000. The next quarter we made $6,000, and by June 1982
our shares were no longer "impaired" (worth less than their purchase
price).
Looking back on the year, Ann Evans, then the Co-op's Board President,
commented, "Given what we now know about the finances of the store, I'm
glad we didn't move [to G Street]. I hope we will continue to find a
common mission to work towards together."
More money measures
To improve financial control, Carol came up with a new category of
member worker: cashiers became "Super-Workers," members who work 4
hours each week and get a bigger discount, rather than working just
once a month. The Board also authorized Carol to hire paid cashiers for
busy times when even Super-Workers' improved skills couldn't keep up.
Another taste of financial medicine was the Co-op's first share drive.
Actually, we had tried a voluntary share drive the previous fall,
proposed by Jon Li, but only $890 was raised. The Board reluctantly
decided it would use its powers under the bylaws to "assess" a share
for the first time, and announced that all shareholders were required
to invest another $10 in shares by April 30th. As with any innovation,
this provoked howls of protest from some members, who claimed their
initial $10 in shares, plus the $5 membership fee, should be a
"lifetime membership." ($15 is still our starting investment-it hasn't
changed since 1978.)
The net effect of all these financial measures was positive. Carol
Shearly announced at the November 1982 membership meeting that we were
one of only two co-ops in California to have made money in fiscal year
1981-82. In one year we went from being $21,000 in the hole to only
$7,000, and by the end of 1982 we were completely recovered.
We also won a bet we had on with Sacramento Natural Foods Co-op that we
would break $1 million in annual sales before they did. In mid-August
1982 we passed our millionth dollar for the year.
The Co-op and the community
1982 was also a year when we became more conscious of our interaction
with the community. We began doing regular price comparisons and
publishing the results in our newsletter. (Member prices were 6%
cheaper than a composite "basket" of the lowest prices anywhere in
town, 15% cheaper than any other store.)
Education Committee announced a contest for a new Co-op logo late in
1981. Some members had always loved the irreverent humor of the "carrot
and fist," our logo since 1978. Others were embarrassed by it, feeling
it labeled us as self-righteous idealists, or conveyed a dated,
"sixties" image. An in-store ballot early in 1982, however, with a
dozen entries to choose from, yielded an overwhelming victory for the
carrot and fist -it got nearly twice as many votes as the "circle of
wheat", the next runner-up.
In August of 1982 we started a new tradition that lasted several years,
the annual Tomato Festival, held in our parking lot. Activities
included Best of Show tomato judging, bobbing for tomatoes, tomato
juggling, door prizes, musicians, truckload tomato sales, specials on
Co-op tomato products, member prices for all shoppers that day, and
(for the brave) hand-cranked Tomato Ice Cream. ("It was much better the
second year when we left out the cinnamon and nutmeg," says Carol
Shearly. "The first year, it tasted like ketchup.")
The Co-op had been boycotting Nestlé products for some time,
but in the summer of 1982 we began boycotting Coors products after a
presentation to the Board by a group of concerned members. We also
carried Coca-Cola- for about two weeks; it was dropped when many
members protested.
The Safeway in Davis opened its "bulk natural foods section" in the
fall of 1982 with considerable fanfare. A former Co-op employee, Ron
Coleman, had actually gone to work for Safeway when they announced they
would begin featuring "natural foods," though he says he became
discouraged very quickly over how little he was able to get them to do.
We sent "spies" from the Co-op Price Comparison Team to check Safeway
out. They reported the "bulk section" consisted of 42 items, half of
them carob- or yogurt-coated. Of the rest, 5 were salted, and 9 were
dried fruit; only 10 were plain, unsalted beans, nuts or grains. The
Co-op at the same time had 294 bulk items, including about 150 herbs
and spices.
1983: it was a very good year
Financial reports continued positive all through 1983. There actually
isn't as much folklore to report as in previous years, because on the
whole things ran fairly smoothly.
We got awnings for the front of the store in March, which earned us a
PG&E rebate for energy savings. The whole front of the building
was glass and faced west, which meant it got full summer sun, and the
awnings cut down on our need for air conditioning. There were very few
buildings on that side of Fifth Street then, and I remember we got to
see some great views of double rainbows over Sacramento.
In April we hosted a regional co-op conference on education (with some
great workshops, if I do say so) that drew about 65 people from all
over California. In May, Carol Shearly went to the Consumer Cooperative
Management Association conference where a group of successful co-ops
founded in the 1970s (including ours) decided they had moved beyond
being the "third wave" of co-ops founded in the U.S. and renamed
themselves the "permanent wave." (The first two "waves" of co-ops were
started at the turn of the century and in the 1930s.)
In June the Co-op softball team won a game for the first time ever. In
July our refrigeration failed, ruining a lot of produce and all our ice
cream. In August the Board voted to assess shareholders another $10
share, due November 30th.We started buying our herbs and spices from
Frontier Cooperative Herbs in Iowa. In September the newsletter ran an
article asking members "What does Co-op Label mean to you?"
"Applesauce," members replied, not meaning their opinion, but naming
the most popular Co-op Label product (we still carry it, along with
Co-op Label sliced peaches, pears, albacore tuna and laundry
detergent). A group of hard-working members published our co-op
cookbook, Meatless Meals in Minutes.
But there was really only one issue in 1983, one that outweighed all
others: G Street.
The return of G Street
The old Safeway building at 620 G Street had never really gone away as
a possible future site for the Co-op. The Co-op was continuing to grow,
both in membership and sales, and while some members maintained we
could do a lot more with our Fifth Street store, Carol's comment was
that "historically, the DFC has responded to growth in membership by
moving into more suites in the building, but this option is reaching
its limits." By this time there was only one suite left, the one facing
on Fifth Street. And we had heard that Pavey was having trouble at G
Street.
A Futures Subcommittee (Jim Gray, David Thompson, and Jackie Lundy) was
formed in February, and in June they reported to a special membership
meeting on "Co-op Futures." They found only four possiblities:
expanding the current store; an old Subaru dealership on Olive Drive
next to the underpass (now Design House furniture); the location that
is now Farmtown; and G Street. "Satellite" stores might be possible in
Senda Nueva or Village Homes, but the available sites were very small
and not very attractive.
Expanding the current store seemed less feasible the more it was looked
at. Our landlord was not interested in expanding the Fifth Street
building, or in building on the vacant lot next door. The building had
never been designed as a grocery store, and we were already "maxed out"
in terms of electrical load. In fact, Peter Rosenthal, the electrician
who put in a lot of volunteer hours our first couple of years at Fifth
Street, had done some fairly creative things to balance the electrical
load so all the refrigeration units would not come on at the same time
and blow all the circuit breakers.
The Olive Drive site wasn't designed as a grocery store either, and
would have the same problem. It was also hard to get to by car, and
very hard on a bicycle, and we would have to get a zoning variance from
the City (which we already had at Fifth Street). The Farmtown site was
still a couple of years away from being ready for development. A
"satellite" store at Village Homes would be only 600 square feet, about
the size of our first tiny store on L Street.That left G Street. The
membership meeting authorized Futures Subcommittee to pursue
"non-binding negotiations."
Expansion has always been a sensitive subject at a Co-op many people
have loved in ways you don't usually feel about a grocery store. Every
expansion we've ever had-all the way back to buying club days-there
have been a substantial number of people, sometimes as much as a
quarter of active members, who have felt we should stay just the way we
are. Every time we expand, a few people leave, and often they are
people who cared a lot about the co-op and contributed a lot to it. On
the other hand, every time we expand, we gain a lot of new people. Is
it worth it? It must be.
In September the rumors became reality: Pavey's Market at G Street went
out of business. Futures Subcommittee stepped up its negotiations.
Finally in December they had a tentative agreement, and the Board held
two emergency meetings to hammer out the terms and approve putting the
proposal to a member vote.
"I think this is an unbelievably good offer," Carol said. "Due to an
unusual set of circumstances, we would have an opportunity to move into
a store, already remodeled and set up with excellent equipment and
shelving, for about 1/3 of what those improvements originally cost."
Produce Manager Carol Johnson was particularly impressed with the
produce coolers: not only did they sound an alarm when something went
wrong, but-rumor said-they could even be programmed to dial the
manager's phone number!
"Why should the Co-op consider moving this time, when the move was
rejected two years ago?" Carol Shearly asked in her newsletter article.
"Very briefly, (1) The Co-op is in a much stronger financial position
than before, (2) The equipment and remodeling costs would be low, and
(3) The interest rates on bank loans would be much lower." In 1981 the
prime lending rate was running around 20%, a figure that seems almost
unbelievable now; in 1983 it was 11%. And the Co-op had gone from being
$20,000 in debt to having more than $20,000 in net earnings.
The big vote
The information packet and ballot for the Pavey's move was mailed out
to members early in January 1984, with ballots due the 23rd. The
proposal read:
"The membership of the Davis Food Co-op authorizes the Board of
Directors to do the following for the purpose of moving the Co-op to
the former Pavey's Market: (1) Sign an agreement to purchase inventory
and lease equipment(2) Borrow working capital up to $30,000provided
that (a) the Board finds the move financially feasible, and (b) the
plan for operating the store does not differ substantially from the
proposal mailed to the membership, and (c) any changes in the plan do
not substantially change the nature of the Cooperative as it relates to
member work, member-worker control, commitment to present merchandising
practices, or sales predominantly to members."
With those provisions, the measure passed, with 76% voting in favor and
the biggest voter turnout in the Co-op's history. At its February 27th
meeting, the Board signed the lease. "I am allowed to describe this as
a historic moment," Carol said.
The Board minutes also record that a preliminary inspection of G Street
revealed that the roof leaked. .
(I welcome factual corrections or other
reminiscences. Looking back will continue in the April Co-op News.)
[But it did not - DW 12/94]
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