Russell Nichols is a freelance writer who focuses on technology, culture and mental health. His work has appeared in The Wall Street Journal, The Boston Globe, Governing Magazine and Government Technology.
Retirement communities are facing the challenges that come with catering to seniors in the 21st century. These consumers — and there are a lot of them — are demanding greater access to technology, life-long learning programs and attention to overall wellness.
No agency is safe. No office off limits. Boardrooms will be infiltrated. Communication barriers will crumble for the sake of collaboration. As the old guard inches toward that horizon called retirement, Sacramento’s young power players are taking center stage.
If Gov. Jerry Brown had his way, the redevelopment agencies throughout California would be history. Not only would he demolish all of the nearly 400 active agencies, Brown would also use the billions they earn in property taxes to plug the state’s massive deficit and support schools and public safety services.
Three years ago a wrecking ball known as the subprime mortgage meltdown slammed into Sacramento’s real estate market, kicking up a dust cloud over the city’s urban development plans. But rather than dwell on the financial obscurity of the future, David Miry and Steve Lebastchi kept their eyes on the past.
If you want to talk sides, Mike Brown is your man. As the owner of midtown’s Capitol Dawg, Brown knows his various hot dogs draw in the crowds, but it’s the side dishes that complete the meal.
When Kevin Marshall co-founded a real estate valuation firm in 2001, his first order of business was to bust down the walls.
The last sound anyone wants to hear is a firetruck siren. But last fall, that unsettling sound rang in the middle of the night as a three-alarm fire leaped from an apartment building in midtown Sacramento to the roof of J Street Recorders, home of the multiplatinum blues metal band Tesla.
“Why don’t we start at the top and work our way down?” The voice of Greg Kelly echoes as he stands in the empty lobby of his brand-new office building. He’s ready to begin the tour.
Scott Steele rushed his daughter to the hospital one night because her ear infection wouldn’t heal.
Somebody stole Derek Finstad’s backpack.
He left it in the locker room at a gym in Yuba City, where he works. But when he went to retrieve it, the backpack — with his keys, checkbook and other materials — was gone. Finstad wasn’t happy.
When his mother fell for the second time, Steve Smith was ready to put the plan in motion.
Markus Bokisch has grown into the kind of man who doesn’t mind having his wife in his business. But it didn’t happen overnight.
The year was 1943, the world was at war and Dick Bertolucci cruised the streets of Sacramento in his first car — a black ’33 Chevy Roadster. He was 13 and didn’t have a license.
Amid the country’s worst economy in decades, Michael Genovese was offered more work, and he refused.
Wearing coveralls and galoshes caked in manure and mud, a father and son attach suction devices to the teats of ailing cows.