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Yahoo
17-05-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Oregon's landmark bottle redemption law may change due to concerns over drugs and homelessness
PORTLAND, Ore. (AP) — Monica Truax has lived in her Portland home since 1992, on a cul-de-sac she described as a close-knit community. But since a bottle redemption center opened next door several years ago, her block has struggled with drug dealing, garbage and fights in the middle of the night, she said. 'It's just all completely changed,' she said. 'But the people are all still here, you know, all the residents are here still, and still raising their families.' After more than five decades, Oregon's first-in-the-nation 'bottle bill' — now replicated in nine other states — faces a potential overhaul, with lawmakers considering new time restrictions on bottle redemption sites that some say have become magnets for drugs and homelessness. The trailblazing law to reduce littering by incentivizing recycling helped cement the state's reputation as a leader in the emerging environmental movement. It has also become a financial security net for many, including those experiencing homelessness. The legislation echoes calls to modernize the bottle bill, with some saying changes are needed to address unintended consequences. 'He did not envision this,' Truax said of former Oregon Gov. Tom McCall, who signed the bottle bill into law. 'It's just a mess.' How does the bottle bill work? Consumers originally paid a 5-cent deposit on each eligible bottle or can, then collected the deposit when they redeemed the empty container at a retailer, such as a supermarket or convenience store. Over the years, the program has expanded accepted containers and increased the deposit to 10 cents. Twenty-seven centers exclusively for returns have been opened across the state. California, Connecticut, Hawaii, Iowa, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, New York, Vermont and the U.S. territory of Guam followed Oregon in adopting the concept, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures. In Oregon, people can sign up for accounts in which their refunds are deposited or choose cash redemptions. Some stores count containers by hand. Other sites have counting machines or areas where account holders can drop off bags of containers. The deposit has not kept pace with inflation — 5 cents in 1971 would be equal to 40 cents today, according to the Consumer Price Index's inflation calculator — but many low-income residents rely on it. Why are critics upset? Stores must accept container returns when they are open, and owners of all-night convenience stores, particularly in Portland, say they're concerned about employee safety. In an op-ed for The Oregonian/OregonLive last year, Jonathan Polonsky, president and CEO of the Plaid Pantry chain of convenience stores, wrote that fentanyl was selling for less than $1 a pill and 'a small number of cans add up to enough to buy drugs.' People redeeming containers at night "may be belligerent and intimidating, presenting a major safety risk to our store associates who have no choice under Oregon's Bottle Bill to handle returns at that hour,' he wrote. Truax, who lives with her husband in northeast Portland, said homeless encampments and people relieving themselves in public were among the many things she had witnessed on her block. 'I've seen it all,' she said, describing the scourge of fentanyl as 'the cherry on the sundae.' 'It's just sad," she added. Environmentally friendly income source At the bottle redemption center near Truax's home, Chris Grass waited with his father and girlfriend in the long line outside the door. They each redeemed the maximum amount of 350 containers per person per day for $105 in cash to help pay for gas and provide some extra money for things like cigarettes and coffee while he's unemployed, he said. 'A lot of people don't like people that go out and can,' he said. 'But it's actually good for the environment." In 2023, roughly 87% of eligible containers were returned for redemption, according to the Oregon Liquor and Cannabis Commission. That was the highest rate in the nation that year, according to the Oregon Beverage Recycling Cooperative, which operates the bottle bill program on behalf of its distributor members. What would the legislation do? The bill being considered by lawmakers would allow stores across the state to refuse container returns after 8 p.m. In Portland, it would allow for 'alternative' redemption sites, including possible mobile sites such as trucks that travel to different neighborhoods. Nonprofits would run the alternative sites for people who redeem containers every day, relieving the pressure on retailers, particularly downtown. Stores in an area with an alternative drop site could limit or refuse hand-counted returns, with convenience stores specifically allowed to stop them at 6 p.m. The proposal is supported by retailers as well as groups like the Ground Score Association, whose members include 'canners' and waste pickers who collect containers for income. The association operates a Portland redemption center under a bridge called The People's Depot that processes some 38,000 containers daily, according to its website. It has pushed back against claims that the bottle bill fuels the fentanyl crisis and says most people redeeming bottles need the money to make ends meet. 'Since becoming manager of The People's Depot, I'm learning how polarizing The Oregon Bottle Bill is,' the depot's operational manager Kristofer Brown said in written testimony supporting the bill. Do the proposed changes go far enough? Unlike in some other states, Oregon's bottle bill program is run by the private beverage industry rather than state government. The Oregon Beverage Recycling Cooperative retains unredeemed deposits, which topped $30 million in 2019, according to a 2020 state audit of the bottle bill. The audit recommended several changes, including having some or all unredeemed deposits go to the state to help fund environmental programs. Consolidated Oregon Indivisible Network, a progressive advocacy group, said in written testimony supporting the bill that 'money is piling up in the bottle deposit fund' and called for another government audit. The OBRC says unredeemed refunds go toward operating expenses for the beverage container redemption system. The Legislature has until late June to approve the bill, which received overwhelming approval in the Senate and is now in the House.


The Independent
17-05-2025
- Business
- The Independent
Oregon's landmark bottle redemption law may change due to concerns over drugs and homelessness
Monica Truax has lived in her Portland home since 1992, on a cul-de-sac she described as a close-knit community. But since a bottle redemption center opened next door several years ago, her block has struggled with drug dealing, garbage and fights in the middle of the night, she said. 'It's just all completely changed,' she said. 'But the people are all still here, you know, all the residents are here still, and still raising their families.' After more than five decades, Oregon 's first-in-the-nation 'bottle bill' — now replicated in nine other states — faces a potential overhaul, with lawmakers considering new time restrictions on bottle redemption sites that some say have become magnets for drugs and homelessness. The trailblazing law to reduce littering by incentivizing recycling helped cement the state's reputation as a leader in the emerging environmental movement. It has also become a financial security net for many, including those experiencing homelessness. The legislation echoes calls to modernize the bottle bill, with some saying changes are needed to address unintended consequences. 'He did not envision this,' Truax said of former Oregon Gov. Tom McCall, who signed the bottle bill into law. 'It's just a mess.' How does the bottle bill work? Consumers originally paid a 5-cent deposit on each eligible bottle or can, then collected the deposit when they redeemed the empty container at a retailer, such as a supermarket or convenience store. Over the years, the program has expanded accepted containers and increased the deposit to 10 cents. Twenty-seven centers exclusively for returns have been opened across the state. California, Connecticut, Hawaii, Iowa, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, New York, Vermont and the U.S. territory of Guam followed Oregon in adopting the concept, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures. In Oregon, people can sign up for accounts in which their refunds are deposited or choose cash redemptions. Some stores count containers by hand. Other sites have counting machines or areas where account holders can drop off bags of containers. The deposit has not kept pace with inflation — 5 cents in 1971 would be equal to 40 cents today, according to the Consumer Price Index's inflation calculator — but many low-income residents rely on it. Why are critics upset? Stores must accept container returns when they are open, and owners of all-night convenience stores, particularly in Portland, say they're concerned about employee safety. In an op-ed for The Oregonian/OregonLive last year, Jonathan Polonsky, president and CEO of the Plaid Pantry chain of convenience stores, wrote that fentanyl was selling for less than $1 a pill and 'a small number of cans add up to enough to buy drugs.' People redeeming containers at night "may be belligerent and intimidating, presenting a major safety risk to our store associates who have no choice under Oregon's Bottle Bill to handle returns at that hour,' he wrote. Truax, who lives with her husband in northeast Portland, said homeless encampments and people relieving themselves in public were among the many things she had witnessed on her block. 'I've seen it all,' she said, describing the scourge of fentanyl as 'the cherry on the sundae.' 'It's just sad," she added. Environmentally friendly income source At the bottle redemption center near Truax's home, Chris Grass waited with his father and girlfriend in the long line outside the door. They each redeemed the maximum amount of 350 containers per person per day for $105 in cash to help pay for gas and provide some extra money for things like cigarettes and coffee while he's unemployed, he said. 'A lot of people don't like people that go out and can,' he said. 'But it's actually good for the environment." In 2023, roughly 87% of eligible containers were returned for redemption, according to the Oregon Liquor and Cannabis Commission. That was the highest rate in the nation that year, according to the Oregon Beverage Recycling Cooperative, which operates the bottle bill program on behalf of its distributor members. What would the legislation do? The bill being considered by lawmakers would allow stores across the state to refuse container returns after 8 p.m. In Portland, it would allow for 'alternative' redemption sites, including possible mobile sites such as trucks that travel to different neighborhoods. Nonprofits would run the alternative sites for people who redeem containers every day, relieving the pressure on retailers, particularly downtown. Stores in an area with an alternative drop site could limit or refuse hand-counted returns, with convenience stores specifically allowed to stop them at 6 p.m. The proposal is supported by retailers as well as groups like the Ground Score Association, whose members include 'canners' and waste pickers who collect containers for income. The association operates a Portland redemption center under a bridge called The People's Depot that processes some 38,000 containers daily, according to its website. It has pushed back against claims that the bottle bill fuels the fentanyl crisis and says most people redeeming bottles need the money to make ends meet. 'Since becoming manager of The People's Depot, I'm learning how polarizing The Oregon Bottle Bill is,' the depot's operational manager Kristofer Brown said in written testimony supporting the bill. Do the proposed changes go far enough? Unlike in some other states, Oregon's bottle bill program is run by the private beverage industry rather than state government. The Oregon Beverage Recycling Cooperative retains unredeemed deposits, which topped $30 million in 2019, according to a 2020 state audit of the bottle bill. The audit recommended several changes, including having some or all unredeemed deposits go to the state to help fund environmental programs. Consolidated Oregon Indivisible Network, a progressive advocacy group, said in written testimony supporting the bill that 'money is piling up in the bottle deposit fund' and called for another government audit. The OBRC says unredeemed refunds go toward operating expenses for the beverage container redemption system. The Legislature has until late June to approve the bill, which received overwhelming approval in the Senate and is now in the House.

Associated Press
17-05-2025
- Business
- Associated Press
Oregon's landmark bottle redemption law may change due to concerns over drugs and homelessness
PORTLAND, Ore. (AP) — Monica Truax has lived in her Portland home since 1992, on a cul-de-sac she described as a close-knit community. But since a bottle redemption center opened next door several years ago, her block has struggled with drug dealing, garbage and fights in the middle of the night, she said. 'It's just all completely changed,' she said. 'But the people are all still here, you know, all the residents are here still, and still raising their families.' After more than five decades, Oregon's first-in-the-nation 'bottle bill' — now replicated in nine other states — faces a potential overhaul, with lawmakers considering new time restrictions on bottle redemption sites that some say have become magnets for drugs and homelessness. The trailblazing law to reduce littering by incentivizing recycling helped cement the state's reputation as a leader in the emerging environmental movement. It has also become a financial security net for many, including those experiencing homelessness. The legislation echoes calls to modernize the bottle bill, with some saying changes are needed to address unintended consequences. 'He did not envision this,' Truax said of former Oregon Gov. Tom McCall, who signed the bottle bill into law. 'It's just a mess.' How does the bottle bill work? Consumers originally paid a 5-cent deposit on each eligible bottle or can, then collected the deposit when they redeemed the empty container at a retailer, such as a supermarket or convenience store. Over the years, the program has expanded accepted containers and increased the deposit to 10 cents. Twenty-seven centers exclusively for returns have been opened across the state. California, Connecticut, Hawaii, Iowa, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, New York, Vermont and the U.S. territory of Guam followed Oregon in adopting the concept, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures. In Oregon, people can sign up for accounts in which their refunds are deposited or choose cash redemptions. Some stores count containers by hand. Other sites have counting machines or areas where account holders can drop off bags of containers. The deposit has not kept pace with inflation — 5 cents in 1971 would be equal to 40 cents today, according to the Consumer Price Index's inflation calculator — but many low-income residents rely on it. Why are critics upset? Stores must accept container returns when they are open, and owners of all-night convenience stores, particularly in Portland, say they're concerned about employee safety. In an op-ed for The Oregonian/OregonLive last year, Jonathan Polonsky, president and CEO of the Plaid Pantry chain of convenience stores, wrote that fentanyl was selling for less than $1 a pill and 'a small number of cans add up to enough to buy drugs.' People redeeming containers at night 'may be belligerent and intimidating, presenting a major safety risk to our store associates who have no choice under Oregon's Bottle Bill to handle returns at that hour,' he wrote. Truax, who lives with her husband in northeast Portland, said homeless encampments and people relieving themselves in public were among the many things she had witnessed on her block. 'I've seen it all,' she said, describing the scourge of fentanyl as 'the cherry on the sundae.' 'It's just sad,' she added. Environmentally friendly income source At the bottle redemption center near Truax's home, Chris Grass waited with his father and girlfriend in the long line outside the door. They each redeemed the maximum amount of 350 containers per person per day for $105 in cash to help pay for gas and provide some extra money for things like cigarettes and coffee while he's unemployed, he said. 'A lot of people don't like people that go out and can,' he said. 'But it's actually good for the environment.' In 2023, roughly 87% of eligible containers were returned for redemption, according to the Oregon Liquor and Cannabis Commission. That was the highest rate in the nation that year, according to the Oregon Beverage Recycling Cooperative, which operates the bottle bill program on behalf of its distributor members. What would the legislation do? The bill being considered by lawmakers would allow stores across the state to refuse container returns after 8 p.m. In Portland, it would allow for 'alternative' redemption sites, including possible mobile sites such as trucks that travel to different neighborhoods. Nonprofits would run the alternative sites for people who redeem containers every day, relieving the pressure on retailers, particularly downtown. Stores in an area with an alternative drop site could limit or refuse hand-counted returns, with convenience stores specifically allowed to stop them at 6 p.m. The proposal is supported by retailers as well as groups like the Ground Score Association, whose members include 'canners' and waste pickers who collect containers for income. The association operates a Portland redemption center under a bridge called The People's Depot that processes some 38,000 containers daily, according to its website. It has pushed back against claims that the bottle bill fuels the fentanyl crisis and says most people redeeming bottles need the money to make ends meet. 'Since becoming manager of The People's Depot, I'm learning how polarizing The Oregon Bottle Bill is,' the depot's operational manager Kristofer Brown said in written testimony supporting the bill. Do the proposed changes go far enough? Unlike in some other states, Oregon's bottle bill program is run by the private beverage industry rather than state government. The Oregon Beverage Recycling Cooperative retains unredeemed deposits, which topped $30 million in 2019, according to a 2020 state audit of the bottle bill. The audit recommended several changes, including having some or all unredeemed deposits go to the state to help fund environmental programs. Consolidated Oregon Indivisible Network, a progressive advocacy group, said in written testimony supporting the bill that 'money is piling up in the bottle deposit fund' and called for another government audit. The OBRC says unredeemed refunds go toward operating expenses for the beverage container redemption system. The Legislature has until late June to approve the bill, which received overwhelming approval in the Senate and is now in the House.


Chicago Tribune
25-04-2025
- Chicago Tribune
Column: From dusty prison path to Boston Marathon, Aurora man staying on track
Tom McCall admitted his legs 'are doing better but still sore' when we spoke on Wednesday. Two days earlier the 54-year-old Aurora man had run the Boston Marathon, clocking in at a personal best of 3:09:37. Which in itself is plenty of reason to celebrate. But crossing the finish line of the world's most prestigious marathon is more than a story of celebration, it is one of redemption: McCall began his long-distance training at Dixon Correctional Center, where he was serving six years for drug-related charges. How McCall, an Army National Guard veteran and once successful downstate businessman, ended up in prison is but one chapter in his made-for-TV narrative. The son of a Vietnam War Air Force veteran who himself spent seven years in the Army National Guard, McCall admits his focus after serving in the military was 'chasing the money.' Which not only led to a couple of profitable small companies in his name but also to addictions – first alcohol, and later cocaine. 'I did not have decent associates, much less friends,' McCall said. 'They pulled me into their world … it was total debauchery.' But that all changed, he insisted, 'when I began doing business God's way.' Unfortunately – or fortunately, however you choose to look at it – that transformation did not begin until he was incarcerated. Almost immediately after entering Dixon's gates, McCall sought out the chaplain, he told me, and enrolled in discipleship programs there, including Aurora-based Wayside Cross' 'Freedom from Fear' seminar. And he began running on those dusty prison paths, maintaining his training even while rehabbing an injured knee, inside his cell as well as the inmates' weight room. There were 'plenty of setbacks,' McCall admitted, especially when lockdowns prevented him from maintaining his routine. But he was determined to stay on the right track, both figuratively and literally, upon his release in December of 2022. That included going straight from prison to Wayside Cross, where he dived enthusiastically into the mission's multi-tiered gospel-based program while also 'starting my training all over again' on the bicycle trails along the Fox River. One thing about McCall, says Wayside Cross Executive Director James Lukose, he's 'disciplined' when it comes to his regimen, and he's got 'unwavering determination' when it comes to staying fit. McCall is also grateful – not just for the guidance Wayside provided for his reentry into society but for introducing him to Up and Running Again, a California-based Christian nonprofit that partners with missions to train homeless individuals to compete in half-marathons. 'The idea is to show them they have value. It gives them confidence … proves to the world they can take a big goal, break it down and crush it,' said Steve Tierney, who founded the organization 15 years ago. Credit for starting this national program at Wayside goes to the Rev. Bruce McEvoy, pastor at Chapelstreet Church in Geneva, and a longtime marathon runner himself who understands the mental, physical and spiritual benefits of this sport. As soon as he learned about Up and Running Again – there are nine programs in 12 states – McEvoy saw it as a perfect fit for the downtown Aurora mission. And so, three years ago, about 18 Wayside residents signed up for the 12-week program. By the time the 2022 Fox Valley Half Marathon rolled around, a half-dozen took part, including McCall, who a year later ran the same event's 26-mile version. 'Tom became a real student of marathon running,' said McEvoy, adding that, before long, he was outperforming the coaches, including Ron Preston, who last May competed with McCall in the Starved Rock Marathon, a pre-qualifier for Boston, but failed to get the time needed to join his good friend on the starting line of Monday's race. Preston was, however, on the sidelines to cheer on his star student as McCall joined 30,000 other athletes from well over 100 countries taking part in this 129th annual Patriot's Day event. McCall finished 390th in the 50-54 age group in what Tierney described as 'a very good time.' While the nonprofit has 'only had a handful' of its 1,500 participants compete in a marathon, Tom McCall is 'a level above' all the others and 'the first to qualify for Boston,' Tierney pointed out. And the Aurora runner – who described that race as 'awe-inspiring, electrifying' – has no intention of slowing down. Having graduated from Wayside's program in July of 2023, McCall is now living in a transition apartment and training online with a South African coach. The Chicago Marathon coming up on Oct. 12 is definitely on his to-do list. But McCall also has big plans for a tiny-homes community he wants to build for struggling veterans who have been imprisoned and/or are homeless. 'No one who ever served this country should be without a roof over their heads,' he declared, fully aware he's now 'running with smart Christian businessmen' who can help him reach yet another impressive goal. 'God helped me cross that finish line,' McCall said, referring to the Boston race itself as well as his journey of transformation. 'All the hard work paid off. But I had a great team.'


Boston Globe
19-04-2025
- Sport
- Boston Globe
Tom McCall started running on the dirt track of an Illinois prison. On Monday, he'll take on the Boston Marathon.
'I've never even been to a marathon,' McCall said, 'When I ran [my first half marathon] at Fox Valley it had like 3,000 people there, but I've never been to something with 30,000 people racing, fans packing the town cheering them on. 'I'm really looking forward to this.' That McCall is Boston bound is certainly a story of resilience, his ability to use six years of incarceration to find a way forward rather than sinking into more dismay. But it's a story that resonates beyond one person, speaking to the value of running in itself, how it can help a human's body, mind, and spirit. To the value of community, how being among like-minded people and building relationships can lift you from most any circumstance. To the value of goal-setting, how the determination and discipline it takes to get there can impact every corner of your world. To the value of second chances, and how if you open yourself up to people around you, you can take full advantage of them. Advertisement For McCall, who was released in 2022, enrollment in the recovery program at Wayside Cross Ministries in Aurora connected him to their unique partnership with a program called Advertisement Tom McCall (second from right, No. 933) is shown with fellow runners of Up and Running Again, including the program's founder Steve Tierney (second from left, wearing hat). Also shown are Bruce McEvoy (left), Sherman Richardson (No. 6050), and Max Hernandez (right). Tom McCall From there, a running star was born, with McCall capping his first 12-week program by running that Fox Valley Half in 1 hour, 36 minutes, 57 seconds. Almost immediately, his volunteer coach at Up and Running Again, Bruce McEvoy, a local pastor and running enthusiast with 36 marathons to his credit, challenged him with two letters any respectable distance runner knows well: BQ. 'At first, I thought that meant barbecue, and I love barbecue, it's my favorite food. I had no idea what it meant to Boston Qualify,' McCall said. But he listened. He upped his training and within months, ran a 3:15:06 marathon. Time to pack his bags for Boston. 'This is a story of a man that has done the hard work,' McEvoy said. 'When he had no other resources, he did it, not on his own — the higher power of Jesus gave him strength — but his relentless pursuit of health, health in the body, to then having the opportunity to be released from prison and then stumble upon a place that was going to be starting a running program. 'He kept getting fortunate, blessed, and a lot call it luck, but I would argue no, he stumbled into good fortune that might allow him to be at a starting line that will ultimately get him to one of the most historic finish lines of all time, but he's doing the work. And his appendix to the story is setting a personal best at Boston and then continuing to launch to the next thing, his vision to use running and the advocacy he has to impact others, others being fellow veterans, to continue to inspire.' Advertisement Tom McCall is looking forward to adding a Boston Marathon medal to his collection on Patriots Day. Tom McCall Therein lies the next chapter of McCall's story. When he's not out running, training well enough that he has designs on immediately requalifying for Boston with his time on Monday, McCall's energy goes into his foundation, which aims to open a tiny-home community for homeless veterans, helping them get off the streets and into their own homes. As McCall writes on a From where he was, to where he is now, running has been his most reliable vehicle. What started as indoor gym work, where he took assistance from a fellow weightlifter and rebuilt an ailing knee he'd been told would need surgery, eventually moved to the outdoor dirt track, in large part because of the COVID-19 pandemic. What happened from there, well, that's a story only McCall truly knows. I asked him what running has meant to him. His answer was threefold: body, mind, and spirit. 'Well, health-wise it's phenomenal, I have a 44 resting heartbeat and I expect to break a 3:10 marathon at the age of 54,' he said. 'If I can be in low aerobic capacity, which I believe my body has transformed into, then I can finish strong at Boston and Heartbreak Hill will be a success rather than something hard. Advertisement 'Mentally, it makes you stronger, too, when you overcome these challenges. Determination and challenges and overcoming them, that's all mental. 'And whenever your mind starts to break on you a little bit out there, you have some rough sessions, you miss targets, you have shoe failures, whatever it might be, you go into spirit. Especially on long runs, I'll go into spirit, suddenly realizing, 'I don't even remember that mile at all.' Your mind is free. I'll be out there in communion with God, I get rid of all the distractions. It's my go-to, my place away from the world.' From the prison yard to Boston, running built him a whole new world. More Boston Marathon coverage: Tara Sullivan is a Globe columnist. She can be reached at