Into the woods

A trip up San Bruno Mountain to visit with Besh and Telma reveals more about big media

By Savannah Blackwell

It had been six years since I scaled the slopes of San Bruno Mountain with activist David Schooley. Back then, I was working on a story about how encroaching housing developments were laying waste to the area's fragile ecosystems and endangered species, namely the delicate Mission Blue butterfly (see "The Sack of San Bruno," 12/11/96).

As we passed through Owl and Buckeye Canyons, Schooley took me to a special spot off the beaten track, tucked away from the noise and fuss of city life.

There, under a live oak tree and dug into the sandy earth, was the fairy-tale abode of Besh Serdahely and Telma Cabellero. For various reasons, the pair of lovers had chosen to live away from the structured and tense environment of ordinary life.

Schooley made me promise not to tell anyone about the place. As it was, Besh and Telma were not at home. But we rested a while, drank a cup of tea warmed on the hearth, and savored a peaceful moment as a stream gurgled nearby.

Schooley told me that he regularly takes schoolchildren on hikes up San Bruno Mountain to visit Besh and Telma. The kids love the outdoor home, as it isn't unlike what a child might construct if he or she had the technical prowess.

Last week, on Sept. 5, I headed down Highway 101 to the same mountain to hike with Schooley again. We had planned for it to be a social (more spiritual) event only, with Schooley (who cofounded San Bruno Mountain Watch), myself, and my mother.

But news had broken about the fate of Besh and Telma that would change the plan and would result in an odd juxtaposition of big-media reporting with a much simpler approach to life.

For a dozen years, Besh and Telma have lived deep in the woods of San Bruno Mountain. Local park rangers knew of and tolerated the two's presence and, in at least one case, befriended them. But some rangers eventually informed the higher-ups about the situation. During the last week in August, officials with the San Mateo County Parks and Recreation Department stapled an eviction notice on the tree's trunk informing Besh and Telma that they have 30 days to clear out. A sheriff's deputy hauled Besh off on an eight-year-old warrant for being drunk and rowdy in Mendocino County.

Someone Mountain Watch contacted the local media. The San Francisco Chronicle ran a front-page story Sept. 4. The day the story ran he got a call from a reporter at the New York Times.

He had warned me we would have company, but he didn't mention whom.

When my mother and I met him at Mountain Watch's Brisbane headquarters, we noticed a Lincoln Town Car with tinted windows. I couldn't help teasing Schooley a little, as he is a modest man with little interest in material wealth.

When I walked over to the car, a tiny woman with short hair curtly shot me the question "Who are you affiliated with?"

Taken aback, I responded, "Well, who are you?"

"The New York Times," she said grandly.

As we headed up the trail, the photographer, Peter Da Silva, kept asking, "How much further?" To her credit, the reporter, Patricia Leigh Brown, appeared to be enjoying the walk and paid attention to Schooley's efforts to teach her about the local plant life.

The most amusing part came when we got to the rustic hideaway.

The reporter's demeanor softened. She told Telma, a 50-year-old Honduran native, that she specializes in stories about people constructing their own makeshift housing.

And this was something special, she noted.

Within a few minutes, Besh, who is eight years older than Telma, arrived after having been released from the San Mateo County brig.

Da Silva saw his chance to get the photograph for Brown's story. But when he asked, "What's the lighting situation in here?" we were stunned.

Besh explained that the two use candles. That didn't seem to please him too well.

The reporter then asked some leading questions aimed at pumping up their victimization – only Besh wouldn't cooperate.

"Do you feel you are being treated unfairly?" she asked.

"Hell no," he laughed. "We've been here for 12 years! I want to move up to Shasta anyway. Telma's the one who wants to stick around here. Don't ask me why.... she thinks the birds are speaking Spanish."

After Schooley explained that San Bruno Mountain is the site of rare and endangered flora and fauna, the reporter queried Besh, "Do you think your house is an endangered species?"

"No, he laughed, "it's people who are destroying planet earth." (Brown penned a well-written and sensitive piece on the couple's plight for the Times that was picked up on Sept. 8 by the Oakland Tribune.)

My mother and I lingered for a few moments talking to Telma about our 1999 trip to Honduras. I spoke a few Mayan phrases I know. She recognized the words "How are you?" from her childhood. Schooley tagged after the two New York Times journalists, trying to emphasize that Besh and Telma's existence is an organic one and ancient one – just like the Ohlone Indians who once populated the mountain and left their bones and discarded shells behind.

"Most of us live in buildings with TVs," Schooley explained. "But they are part of the land."

E-mail Savannah Blackwell at savannah@sfbg.com.