Farmer Plows On in Defiance of College

At age 70, Jesse Lux doesn’t mind being known to neighbors around Encinitas as “a stubborn old coot.” But the third-generation farmer bristles at the role recently given him by officials at the local community college.

“They’ve decided to play a little game of David and Goliath--with me cast in the part as David,” he said, standing in a fallow growing field just east of Interstate 5.

But Lux isn’t looking for stones for his slingshot--he’s using macadamia nuts. He’s planting row upon row of macadamia trees on his 5 acres of sandy brown soil just east of Interstate 5.

It’s an effort, he says, to raise the property value and discourage the San Elijo campus of MiraCosta College from targeting his property for a parking lot that school officials say is needed to accommodate expansion that could double its student enrollment over the next 20 years.

Lux, whose face is lasered into deep crevices by years of harvesting under a Southern California sun, said his land is much too valuable to be a parking lot. And he aims to prove it.

On the eastern end of his field, he has dug a 65-foot irrigation well named after his 3-year-old granddaughter, Charime.

“There’s good water coming out of that well, you can be sure of that,” he said. “And I’ll share it with anyone but MiraCosta College.”

More than 60 years after his grandfather first bought more than 300 acres of farmland near San Elijo Lagoon, Lux finds himself in a power struggle to preserve the 5 acres his family has left.

Although much of the land was sold in the 1950s, Lux and his brother, Herbert, continued to grow lima beans and strawberries on their diminished plots near bustling Manchester Avenue. Four years ago, Herbert Lux sold most of his portion to the adjacent Sts. Constantine and Helen Greek Orthodox Church.

But Jesse, along with his son, John, is determined to continue farming his land, just like his father and grandfather before him. So, when college officials called him last August to suggest a deal for his property, Lux flatly refused, then hired an attorney.

College officials, however, have persisted. In a series of letters to Lux and his lawyer, they have offered to buy the property for market value or work out a trade involving another local landowner.

In recent weeks, officials have also talked of going to court to assert their right to the land by eminent domain. Public school districts, including community colleges, can use that power to force property owners to sell their land.

MiraCosta Vice President of Business Affairs John Mullender said the school has yet to make a decision on how much land it might need to build more classrooms and parking spaces.

But Lux’s land appears to be the closest plot under the current expansion plans, he said.

“We’d like to buy his land; we feel that’s the most practical thing to do. But we’re still studying our long-term needs, and we’re still considering other land in the area.

“Pretty soon, we’re going to have to cinch up and make a decision. But Jesse Lux has convinced himself that we’re going to condemn his land by eminent domain next week. Actually, we don’t know when a decision will be made.”

In the meantime, Lux’s cause has been championed by all corners of the North County community from Encinitas City Hall to the local farm bureau. He also has letters of support from state Sen. William Craven (R-Oceanside), many private residents and the local Elks Club.

In a letter to Mullender, San Diego County Farm Bureau president C. J. Wolk Jr. called Lux’s farm “an industry worth protecting.”

“Agriculture represents San Diego County’s fourth-largest industry,” said the head of the Escondido-based group, which has about 4,000 local members. “In 1988, receipts from agricultural production exceeded $600 million; yet, 70% of our growers, such as Mr. Lux, harvest less than 10 acres.

“This small-scale production characterizes San Diego agriculture as one of the last vestiges of the true family farm.”

Added council member Gail Hano: “It’s a crying shame what the college is doing. I mean, the place just opened a year ago--it wasn’t even warm with bodies before they were looking to take someone’s land.”

Hano and Councilwoman Marjorie Gaines have tried to drum up community support for Lux. “We need more blacktop in the coastal zone like I need more weight on my hips,” Hano said.

Support for Lux’s farm has also come from some unlikely sources. A group of ecology students at MiraCosta College has expressed concern over the expansion plans.

And they see it as no small irony that the campus is sponsoring an Earth Day celebration this Sunday. So a group of students plans to circulate a petition as well as a banner that says, “Save Jesse’s Farm.”

“I park at the school every day, and there’s not enough cars to fill those lots now,” said 26-year-old Trish Hess. “I just don’t think the school has a just cause. So I brought it up in my ecology class, and my instructor said, ‘Do whatever you want, just don’t bring my name into it.’ ”

Lux laughs at the concept of the college’s upcoming Earth Day celebration. “It’s a mockery,” he said. “They’re supposed to be planting trees, not erecting buildings and parking lots.”

His grandfather would be fighting mad if he were still alive, Lux said. “He would have told them to go to hell, to shove their plan.”

Even 100-year-old Herman Wiegand, Lux’s maternal uncle and the oldest surviving family member, is dead-set against losing the farmland. “He doesn’t hear too well these days, and you’ve got to repeat things three times, but he told me to fight them to the end.”

What angers Lux most is that Mullender and county Supervisor John MacDonald, then college president, promised neighbors 10 years ago, when they bought the land from a partnership--before the San Elijo campus was even built--that area residents would not be uprooted.

“We went to a meeting at the Olivenhain town hall, and I told myself, ‘You can relax now, Jesse, these college educators are square shooters.’ They were so sweet when they came on the scene, so lovey-dovey, like a couple of Santa Clauses wanting to work with the community.

“Now, the moment our back is turned, they want to play hardball. They said they would never bother or disturb the neighbors. I guess they never used the word molest, Because that’s what they’re trying to do.”

Mullender acknowledged the school’s promises but said a decade is a long time.

“Jesse Lux acts like we made those promises yesterday,” he sad. “That was 10 years ago, at a time when there was no building and little growth. When we bought the land, we didn’t know what the future was.

“But we never told those people that we never, never, ever would consider their land. We only said we had no immediate plans.”

Mullender said the school realized soon after opening in late 1988 that it’s enrollment of 2,500 students might eventually double with the North County’s projected growth into the next century.

The school’s consideration of a parking lot for Lux’s property has become a rallying cry for environmentalists, Mullender said. But MiraCosta needs to build classrooms as well. The school, he says, is talking books, not blacktop.

“I think he’s lucky in a way,” Mullender said. “If we hadn’t bought that land, it might have gone to some developer, and there would be 92 houses there right now.”

Furthermore, many of the students and residents who are complaining about the possible annexing of the farmer’s land are parking their cars in the school lot right now--for classes and special events.

“However, I admit there’s a seeming contradiction,” Mullender said, referring to this Sunday’s Earth Day celebration. “But we don’t need to single out the college for the North County’s traffic problems. I mean, Jesse Lux doesn’t ride his bike, does he? He drives a car, just like everyone else.”

Actually, Lux drives a red pickup truck, which has been busy these days with the planting of his macadamia trees and finishing his well--Lux’s insurance against the school. Because, if the college ever does assume his land, officials will be forced to compensate him for each planted tree as well as the water source, he says.

But don’t get the idea that Jesse Lux, not even for a minute, is contemplating giving up his land without a fight. After all, there’s protection for a farmer’s right to farm in California, he says.

And there is other land nearby for the school to build its parking lot. If educators don’t change their tune, however, they may one day end up in court, he says.

“I want to be left alone to do my thing--and that’s to farm,” Lux said, tipping his Freightliner trucker’s hat and hitching his baggy blue jeans up around his waist. “If I decide to sell the land, I’ll do it on my terms, not somebody else’s.”

Not long ago, however, Lux saw something he considers a bad omen for his struggling little farm. “There were these turkey buzzards looming around, flying over the farm,” he said.

“I haven’t seen any of them around here for years. They’re creatures that go after carrion, dead meat. I don’t like the looks of that one bit.”