Reid Hillview Airport
Part of the SJ Sounds Series
Written by Jowy-Jhan Curameng
Audio design by Mark Thompson
[SOUND DESCRIPTION: The Last Flight Out is the Longest Loosely based on Moussorgsky’s “Night On Bald Mountain” (the scary ending to Disney’s “Fantasia”), this soundscape uses public service announcements on lead poisoning in different languages to blend into a unified but chaotic voice. As is always the case with industrial contamination, poisoned communities are left behind as polluters fly off to the next green place. Time passes, nothing’s done. Kids get sick, nobody’s held responsible. Communities slowly reclaim public spaces, but the future is still fragile and uncertain.]
The Future
Samuel closes his hand into a fist and brings it up to his mouth. He coughs into it, doing his best to not be heard by the rest of his classmates. The classroom is silent afterwards, with only the occasional typing of keyboards when someone presses on them to write the answers of a pop quiz the teacher has linked them. A series of already answered simple multiple choice questions await for Samuel to click on the ‘submit’ button, which he does only after he notices that one of his friends has finished already.
It’s bad luck to finish first, he thinks as he sends his answers. Now he waits for the bell to ring. The laptop bolted to his desk, identical to the others in each desk of the school, has no games and won’t have connection to the web as long as the pop quiz lasts. Samuel’s eyes drift from the screen to the glass window at his side and then he sees it, right past the baseball field. Reid–Hillview Airport is quite the sight, it’s abandoned, disheveled state clashes terribly against the rest of the County’s lively disposition.
It didn’t used to be that way, Samuel remembered, the airport was once the main source of noise around the neighborhood, with many small private airplanes landing and taking off each day without a care for what lay beyond its fences. When he was eight years old, Samuel had dreamed about flying a plane all over it. Now that the place is closed and being prepared to be demolished, he feels somewhat saddened.
The bell rings and Samuel picks his things up as fast as he can. He pushes his notebook and pencils, mandatory in case any device fails in the middle of a lesson, into his backpack and exits the classroom. He grabs a couple of things from his locker, unlocked via his fingerprint, and goes out. He takes a deep breath and coughs harder than before, the dark skin on his knuckles lightens slightly when the muscles beneath tense. A hand hits his back violently, and Samuel turns his head to confront his assailant.
It’s Devin, his best friend. “You okay there?”
Samuel nods. “Something got caught in my throat, is all.” He sees Devin shrug and notices the uniform he’s wearing. “You going to the court later? I thought you didn’t have practice today.”
“I don’t, but the coach is sick and I volunteered to cover for him. Now I just have to deal with a bunch of babies running after a ball, hope I don’t regret it.”
“You’re growing soft, Devin,” Samuel mocks.
“See if I save your life again with that attitude,” he replies. Devin scratches the back of his head, he hasn’t shaved in a while and his curls hang freely from it, and looks over Samuel’s shoulder. “Man, they’re really closing the airport.” Samuel hums appreciatively. “We never got to enter even once, what a shame. You think any of the rich kids that used it will visit San Jose again?”
“Nah, can’t imagine any of them coming to the city, God forbid it, a bus, in the year 2031. Their folding holo-tablets and smart-glasses would break just by looking up directions here.”
“Why are they closing it anyway?”
Samuel puts his hangs in his pockets and kicks a loose rock down the cement stairs of the school’s entrance. “Dunno, think I heard one of the adults talk about lead poisoning? Does that sound like anything?”
“Guess so. Oh, well, catch you later.”
Devin leaves in a hurry and Samuel does the same in the opposite direction, jogging to the nearest pharmacy. Inside the small building, where most of the shelves are empty, the assistant lazily scrolls down on his phone behind the counter. Without giving Samuel much more than a look, he pulls a plastic bag and hands it to him.
Samuel weighs it in his hands. “This is less than what my mom ordered.”
“It’s what we got. Come by next week and see if we get some more,” the young man replies and ushers Samuel away.
The way home is quiet, and his home is even quieter. Samuel’s shoes make a scraping sound against the wooden surface as he takes his shoes off. “Mom! I’m home!” No one replies, but he isn’t bothered by that. He makes his way across the hallway into his little sister’s room, a pink cave filled with plushies and posters of celebrities she likes, and finds his mother asleep on a bean bag. In front of her, her sister, a small, thin young child, sleeps peacefully.
Samuel shakes his mother’s shoulder. The woman snorts and opens her eyes, and before she speaks, Samuel shushes her. “She’s resting.”
His mother lets out a tired sigh. “Finally.” Samuel hands her the package. “This isn’t enough of the meds I ordered.”
“It’s all they’ve got until next week,” he says. The both of them exchange a heavy look. “I’m sorry, mom.”
“It’s alright. I’ll give her some when she wakes up and you’ll take care of it while I’m at work. Just make sure she keeps breathing, okay?”
“Okay.”
His mother grunts as she stands up from the bean bag, kisses Samuel on the forehead and exits the room. “I’ll go get dressed. There’s dinner in the fridge.” Samuel hums. “Don’t stay up too late and take care of your sister. Tell her I love her.”
“I love you too.”
She leaves. Samuel goes to his own room to pick up his old laptop and earphones to watch some streams besides his sister, he’ll maybe play some online games with his friends if they’re available. After a short while, his sister’s breathing quickens, raspy whispers escape her lips, and the only thing Samuel can do is place another pillow under her head and wait.
Eventually, she goes back to normal. At some point, she’ll wake up, drink up some medicine and be perfectly okay for a short while that grows shorter and shorter the more time passes. But Samuel believes her sickness will go away, just like the airport. Everything goes away at some point. He just has to wait.
He coughs into his fist, and waits.
Call to Action
East Side San Jose is the home of mainly Latino/Mexican families but increasingly home to people from the Philippines, Vietnam, India and other parts of the world.
Historically East San Jose has been impacted by racist policies and decisions that have left our neighborhoods under-resourced and with limited access to education and economic opportunities. Today, we are impacted by lasting impacts of systemic racism and redlining such as ongoing gentrification, higher rates of COVID, greater amounts of pollution, and poverty. The Reid-Hillview Airport is a product of ongoing systemic issues harming East San Jose residents.
We believe our families deserve to be healthy, access to education, economic mobility, public transportation, high quality green space, shelter, clean air, sleep, and a life without fear of planes crashing into our homes.
We are asking to Board of Supervisors to immediately close Reid Hillview Airport!
*This messaging was excerpted from the following link. It was drafted by coalition of various groups and neighborhood leaders including SOMOS Mayfair, Luna, SURJ at Sacred Heart, and the Cassel Neighborhood Association.
Audio Credits:
Produced in Reaper.
Favorite plug-ins for this project: “Dumpster Fire by Freakshow Industries,” “Other Desert Cities by Audio Damage,” “Valhalla Supermassive Echobode by Sonic Charge.”
Samples/SFX: “Super Mario Bros.” “Night on Bald Mountain,” “Mussorgsky, performed by Vienna State Orchestra,” “1954 Hollywood Edge,” “Premiere Edition Grotesco” “‘The Trial,’ Swedish Television Show, 2010”
We would like to thank Veggielution for hosting this installation. Veggielution is a 2-acre community farm and gathering space is located in Emma Prusch Farm Park in the Mayfair neighborhood, one of the most impoverished areas in Silicon Valley. Their goal is to connect people from diverse backgrounds through food and farming to build community in East San Jose. To find out more about Veggielution and what they do, visit their website.
SJ Sounds is a collaboration between More Más Marami Arts and Soundplay.Media. This installation is possible thanks to funding from the City of San José through the Abierto program, the support of our fiscal sponsor, The School of Arts and Culture.
