Another story of law enforcement struggles to serve (and protect) rural communities

Dani Anguiano wrote in The Guardian a few days ago under the headline, "‘We’re on our own’: the rural US town where police refuse calls."  The story is about Rancho Tehama, an unincorporated community in Tehama County, California, population 65,829, about 120 miles north of Sacramento.

Failures of law enforcement in Tehama County burst into the news in 2017 after a mentally ill gunman killed five in remote Rancho Tehama, including at an elementary school.  The Los Angeles Times covered the events thoughtfully, drawing state wide attention to happenings that might otherwise have gone largely unnoticed because of the remote location.  I wrote a few blog posts in the aftermath of the killings, here and here. 

More recently, Tehama County has been in the news in relation to its inability to recruit and retain enough deputies to serve the county.  CalMatters report on the issue was the topic of a December, 2022 blog post here. 

Here's a lede from Anguiano's Guardian story last week: 

In Rancho Tehama Reserve, residents are used to getting by without everything they need. The price, or the perk, of living among the oak trees and rolling hills where cattle graze in this rural northern California community is its isolation.

People typically come to the Ranch, as residents call it, looking for space and quiet – they only got proper cellphone and internet service three years ago. The settlement is at the end of a two-lane road that meanders through the hillsides of California’s Sacramento Valley and offers glimpses of the snow-capped peaks of Mounts Lassen and Shasta. The gas station has snacks, propane and phone chargers, and the hardware store carries alfalfa pellets, kerosene and bolts, but most anything else requires at least a 30-minute drive.

Sherri Burns, the owner of the hardware store, said people here knew one another, and were often united by their love for a place viewed by outsiders as the “armpit of Tehama county”.

Burns, who is also the assistant volunteer fire chief, is quotes:  

I love it. I wouldn’t go anywhere else.  If you respect people, you get respect back. I’ve never had fear out here – and I’ve gone on calls in the middle of the night by myself.

Recently, however, the remoteness has presented a dilemma:  

[R]esidents say when they call 911, they are frequently unable to get any help.

In places like Rancho Tehama, residents say, the issue is not a lack of police, but neglect. The staffing challenges only exacerbated a longtime problem – residents say that for years, even when the sheriff’s office had more deputies, the county’s remote settlements received little attention. Though the absence of patrol deputies affected the entire 3,000 sq mile county, it hit those living in rural areas particularly hard due to their distance from major population centers and the lack of other law enforcement agencies.

One Rancho Tehama resident, Cheyenne Thornton, called the situation a "ticking timebomb," adding:

 Unless you’re bleeding or dying, you’re probably not going to get a sheriff or anyone to respond.

You feel like you don’t matter out here – you’re on your own.

Others, like Chris Foster, said they were less troubled by the lack of law enforcement protection:  

I can protect myself and my family, whether I shoot you in the ass or beat you with a stick. This is the country. People packing guns is normal to me and my nine-year-old son. Because, you know, you have to protect your wellbeing and your property. It’s like anywhere else.

Don't miss the rest of Anguiano's story, where you'll also echoes of this post about rural law enforcement's struggles to effectively oversee vast physical territory with few resources.  The story also notes that some Rancho residents sued the county over the 2017 shootings, in particular the failure to seize the killer's guns pursuant to a restraining order that compelled them to do so.  

Finally, if you want to learn more about this community, the 2017 killings at Rancho Tehama are the subject of a just-released set of episodes on the podcast This is Actually Happening.