Most of what was accomplished in fixing the pool was made possible thanks to resources that different people brought to the table, including brains, tools, and the good use of hands, but tools are a difficult thing to have at the right time in the right place. Everybody has a screwdriver and a hammer, but how many have a glass cutter to fix a broken window or an electric sander for heavy work? What about tools you need only once or the tool you lend to a friend never to see it again?
By chance, we read about an organization, Youth Foundation in California, giving out small grants to community groups doing innovative work. That was us! Understanding a hidden basic need, in two days, in Café Olé I wrote a proposal for a Tool Library grant. A few years before I had done a Tool Membership Supply Program for the Students Union at the University of Oregon as part of a Search course called Home Made Housing, School of Architecture under Dean Harris.
Simple basics: $5 membership card, use of any tool for two weeks, inside the Barrio only, return the tool in good condition.
It was a handwritten two-page proposal, and we were granted $5,000 by the Youth Foundation. Gail Nishioka, a young lady from the Foundation, made a trip to Tucson in 1977 to give us the award. When we met, we thanked her profusely. She was intrigued by our handwritten proposal, and impressed by the obvious need for a neighborhood with a Tool Library. She then added that she was going to suggest several other places in California that could duplicate our program.
With the $5,000 we bought basic tools for most common trades; hand tools, cutting tools, levels, trowels, some electrical tools, sharpening stones, measuring tape, landscaping tools, wheelbarrows, everything we could think of. Over the years, we added cement mixers, a flatbed truck, a tractor with a front-end loader and many more useful pieces of equipment.
Rules and reasons behind a tool library were:
In a few years, with donations, the Tool Library grew with some heavy equipment as well. We were weaving together resources available for a comprehensive neighborhood rehabilitation, also translating into people rehabilitation. We never did any social work. However, people rehabilitation came along with property rehabilitation. Here is one example: José, an older gentleman who lost his disability compensation when he was caught fixing his own roof despite the pain, he had his pride deeply impacted for not having a way to support his family. He went into a downward spiral of hopelessness, depression, and mental paralysis that sent his whole family towards the dangerous edge of homelessness.
We went to see him on a day when his wife told us that that morning he was so despondent that he couldn’t answer her simple question of “Do you want one or two eggs today?”
We offered him a job, to be in charge and have complete control of the Tool Library, with full volunteer salary, twice the size of mine, and a real salary the day some funding came through. We told him what the tool purchase list was and left him a copy. He asked us to give him a day or two to respond.
Next day he came to the office to look at the garage space. The following day he said he was ready. Within a week, we had purchased all the tools and had them delivered. José had found himself an old tricycle with a basket. Day by day we saw him regaining his strength, his stamina, and his excitement for life. He never left his post while I was in Tucson. He could be seen daily delivering and retrieving tools from grateful residents.
I saw José as a symbol of what was happening to the Barrio. Old, forgotten, crippled by urban renewal or removal, to make way for a future freeway and for a Community Center and for a dominating culture, but José recovered and got his pride back. Would the Barrio recover like José did?