Unusual ’98 Gave Hints on Our Destiny

Maybe it’s just a case of Pre-Millennial Syndrome, but 1998 was no ordinary year in Orange County. There was a buzz in the air, and it wasn’t all from South American killer bees or the grand opening of Tinseltown.

Full of sound and fury symbolizing something, the year smacked of both real and symbolic change.

But for those who cringe at change, take heart: In 1998, Orange County crime went down and home prices went up. A generation ago, that summed up the rationale for living here. In other words, 1998 suggests that Orange Countians are still free to pursue the perfect anti-urban dream.

They will do so, however, against a backdrop much different from that of a generation ago.

You want symbolic change? Some juxtaposed events from 1998 sound downright apocalyptic. We said goodbye to Bob Dornan but hello to fire ants. We said goodbye to Gene Autry but hello to Mo Vaughn.

Voters didn’t hate Dornan, they just wearied of him. Even local party leaders wanted him to pass the torch. As for the fire ants, they may be with us longer than Dornan was.

Autry, who died in September, was an icon for two generations of Americans and a local legend. His longtime ownership of the Angels evoked thoughts of baseball’s bygone era. Two months after Autry’s death, Vaughn signed an $80-million Angel contract that evoked a sense that baseball is headed for another Armageddon.

Other local changes lent themselves less to apocalypse and more to ongoing change in Orange County’s identity.

It was the year in which the county fully emerged from its post-bankruptcy shadow. Merrill Lynch said it was sorry, sort of, agreeing in June to a $430-million settlement for its role leading up to the bankruptcy. A month later, County Treasurer John Moorlach said he might someday do business again with the Wall Street giant.

If we needed final proof that all is forgotten, the Board of Supervisors gave itself, department heads and many employees raises in 1998. Had it tried that a year or so ago, the citizenry would have stormed the gates.

For the first time in modern memory, no automatic succession occurred in either the Sheriff’s Department or the district attorney’s office. The county starts 1999 with a new D.A. and a new sheriff, neither of whom came directly from those departments.

Nationally, Dornan’s defeat means that Orange County no longer will be defined by firebrand conservatism. Rather, the more low-key presences of Republicans Christopher Cox and Ron Packard will send a different signal.

The high profile of the Dornan-Loretta Sanchez congressional race obscured another indicator of local change. In 1990, Orange County gave Republican gubernatorial candidate Pete Wilson 63% of its vote. In 1994, it gave then-Gov. Wilson 68%. In 1998, law-and-order GOP candidate Dan Lungren, well-known and respected, got only 52% of the Orange County vote.

The year also spotlighted a maturing county’s difficulty in finding consensus on divisive issues.

In an April vote, the Board of Supervisors maintained momentum for an international airport at the former El Toro Marine base. Worse for airport opponents, a three-member board majority seems as pro-airport as ever as other big decisions loom in 1999.

Meanwhile, county voters joined the rest of the state in approving the end of bilingual education. Many Santa Ana parents, however, got waivers to keep their children from being immersed in English-speaking classes. Administrators say bilingual education is far from dead.

So, whither Orange County in 1999 and beyond?

Can a county founded and still grounded in conservatism embrace the social changes that loom?

One man’s answer: The opportunity for Orange County to build the better mousetrap is as alluring as ever. Perfect climate, strong local economy, an educated and diverse populace--these are the head starts that any community covets.

To borrow the sports cliche, Orange County leaders and citizens control their own destiny. Won’t it be fun seeing what we do with it?