How Can a Town Built by Sears Be This Dysfunctional?

I think of Orange as that quaint little town that, of all the cities in the county, most evokes the Midwest where I grew up. How can you not like a town that in the 21st century still sports a soda fountain in a downtown drugstore and where many houses still stand that were owner-built from materials and instructions out of a Sears Roebuck catalog?

Not to mention those cute little oranges painted on the street signs. Or a university that nestles right up against neighborhoods and downtown. Or the wild parrots that a real estate broker says still fly with some regularity through the Old Towne section each morning and night.

It’s a cute little burg, all right, as close as Orange County can come to a Norman Rockwell painting. Driving through, you almost feel like you should keep quiet so you don’t wake anyone.

But peel back just a little Orange and, Lordy, how that town finds things to fight about. You’d think you were living in New York City or Los Angeles.

In recent years, the city has been divided by squabbles at the Police Department, City Hall and the school district.

And they haven’t been the usual kind of fights you’d expect of grown people trying to run a city. These have been donnybrooks.

The police chief doesn’t just resign. He gets fired and then sues the city. They later settle without going to trial.

Orange schoolteachers don’t just protest their situation. They stage a one-day strike.

School board members don’t just get criticized--they get recall petitions, with three of them facing the boot on June 26.

The mayor doesn’t just get opposed--she also gets a recall threat, but beats it back when the other side doesn’t get enough signatures.

A former spokeswoman for the school district doesn’t just get laid off--she sues the district and excoriates it in the press. Another longtime administrator also sues the district after being laid off.

School officials don’t just oppose a student-sponsored gay alliance club at the school--they get embroiled in a federal civil rights lawsuit over it.

For good measure, throw in a pending court case involving alleged embezzlement and fraud by the city’s longtime trash hauler.

And, in an up-to-the-minute keeping with tradition, a candidate in Tuesday’s special election for a City Council seat wants the district attorney to investigate her opponent’s campaign practices.

What’s wrong with this place?

How could a town built by Sears products be so dysfunctional?

I sought answers from Bob Bennyhoff, longtime editor of the local newspaper, Foothill Sentry, which used to be known as Common Talk.

Bennyhoff sees a city divided into two camps, but a lot of towns are. I’m not sure he can explain, either, why the fights in Orange get so heated.

The school district’s battles can be attributed to philosophical warfare between a strong teachers union and a school board that became increasingly combative in recent years.

As for the city in general, Bennyhoff says, “What we have here is a war of worlds. That Old Towne feeling, the Old Towne reverence, history and fondness is beginning to collide with people who didn’t grow up [in Orange]. They think it’s nice to drive around [Old Towne], that it’s quaint and cute and they say they’d like to live there, but most of them don’t go down [to Old Towne].”

Those folks, he says, think City Hall caters to Old Towne interests.

And nowadays, he says, most of Orange doesn’t live in those historic neighborhoods.

Indeed, the city I’ve always considered so small-town actually is Orange County’s fifth-largest in area.

Perhaps it’s too elusive to explain why Orange fusses more than its neighbors. Maybe there’s a logical reason, or maybe it’s just cursed by the gods.

Although less so than it used to be, it still is a conservative town. Its most obvious source of conflict would be over the pace of growth. But even the two warring council candidates in Tuesday’s election generally agree on that issue.

So, what is it?

The water? The wild parrots? Frustration in navigating the downtown traffic circle?

I’m stumped.

Is there a psychiatrist in the house?

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com.