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The following report looks at the painful topic of suicide by reflecting on the loss in 2018 of a well-liked, prominent community member. Friends and family share their memories and BenitoLink offers new research about suicide and where residents can get help, if needed.
Most evenings, San Juan Bautista is quiet with just a few street lights, restaurants and a saloon or two scattered along Third St. But every year on the first Saturday of December, a parade lights it up and dozens of cars wrapped in Christmas lights roll through the streets.
In 2018, Anthony Botelho was county supervisor and he always took part in the neighborhood event. But on the day of the parade, he still felt exhausted from a trip to Arizona and he thought he might stay home—until his friend Jim West, the town’s mayor, convinced him otherwise.
Botelho and West had known each other for more than 20 years—since West moved to San Juan and developed an attachment to the community. They had become friends through a shared interest in politics. That December night, they had dinner together, cruised in West’s refurbished antique Ford, tossed candy to children, and ended the evening as they often did: talking about how to fix the town’s problems over a few beers.
Five days later, Botelho got a call from the company where his friend worked. West had grabbed his gun, climbed into his truck, driven to his workplace, and ended his life.
“I was deeply, deeply upset with myself for not catching anything,” Botelho said. “I didn’t catch a thing. Not a thing. Not a thing.”
Friends and associates were left in shock, wondering what had led this smiling, big-hearted man to this end. West was the mayor, but he was much more than that. He was the guy who brought his truck to every Día de los Muertos parade so the local theatre group could climb aboard and perform. The guy who helped build trails, parks, and playgrounds. The guy who always showed up.
After moving around the country for decades, West had formed a deep bond with San Juan Bautista, and there, he found meaning. “It became home in his heart,” said his daughter, Tina West. What he loved most were the people, she recalled. And nothing made him prouder than being their mayor, a position he held until he passed.
Jim West’s death left the town in mourning. The news traveled as far as Washington D.C., where a month later, Congressman Jimmy Panetta, who represented the area, wrote a statement in his honor that he entered in the Congressional Record.
“His presence in the community transformed many lives,” Panetta wrote. “He will be remembered as a distinguished community member, mayor, and friend.”
In communities this small, that record few deaths, the traditional per-100,000 calculation becomes statistically meaningless. Epidemiologists and other public health experts have developed alternative approaches, such as aggregating data over multiple years, calculating years of potential life lost, or borrowing statistics from neighboring counties.
Nine in 10 counties across the U.S., a study found, have populations too small to produce reliable firearm suicide rates under CDC guidelines, which consider rates based on fewer than 20 deaths to be unreliable, and prohibit reporting any rate based on fewer than 10. To address this, the researchers developed a model that fills the gaps by borrowing data from neighboring counties—giving more weight to the closest ones—to produce a new rate. But in San Benito County’s case, adjacent counties are not similar to our low population county.
For Botelho, losing West closed a chapter of his life. He was shocked, heartbroken and angry. “You just don’t believe it,” he said. “One day you’re in a parade, throwing candy to children and enjoying a beer, and the next you’re mourning the fact that he’s gone forever.”
If you or someone you know is in crisis, help is available. In San Benito County, you can call (831) 902-2911, or the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline by calling or texting 988. You can also chat online at 988lifeline.org or text HOME to 741741 to connect with a crisis counselor.
There was guilt, too. If he had known West was struggling, he said, he would have done anything to help. Five months later, he announced he would not run for reelection and leave the San Benito County Board of Supervisors after 16 years in office.
“A person doesn’t have too many friends in life,” Botelho said. “I don’t do it now. Maybe I’d still be more interested in local politics if he were still around.”
The bridge builder
Wayne Norton has lived in Aromas for more than 40 years. During that time, Norton has worn almost every possible hat in local public life: founder of a local high school, editor, activist, local candidate, and director of a regional seniors council and a water district.
Like many in the area, he met Jim West when he arrived in the early ’90s as the public face of Graniterock, whose quarry north of Aromas plays a big role in the local economy. Back then, the company’s relationship with the community was not the best, Norton recalled. West, a former Marine with a policy degree and years in government affairs for mining companies, was hired amid that tension.
With time, West eased that relationship. He showed up at community events and joined organizations like the Rotary Club and brought the United Way to San Benito County.
He helped rehabilitate the Juan Bautista de Anza National Historic Trail, a historic route from the U.S.-Mexico border in Arizona to the Bay Area which winds through San Benito County. He also spearheaded the construction of playgrounds and parks. He changed the community’s relationship with Graniterock.
As the face of one of the county’s largest employers, West attended public meetings and, little by little, got involved in local politics, first by helping friends get elected, then joining committees, and eventually running for office himself. He was elected to the San Juan Bautista City Council in 2014.
Above all, Norton recalled, West was a builder—a “practical guy,” who understood how to form coalitions and get things done. “Jim knew that an idea without hard work is still going to be just an idea,” Norton said. “He was really good at working with people he didn’t necessarily agree with, at getting people on the same page.”
The crisis
After Jim West died, the county’s Behavioral Health agency sent a crisis response team to San Juan Bautista. Licensed clinicians met with county employees and anyone who wanted to speak about West’s death. People came to share their feelings of loss and shock with fellow residents and professionals, as well as deep breathing exercises, according to interim director Rachel White.
“A lot of people were affected,” White said. “So we did what we could to go out there, meet with them, talk with them, and debrief it.” Research into the ripple effect of suicide shows there were reasons to worry. One death can expose up to 135 people to mental health conditions such as depression and anxiety. In some extreme cases, suicides spread through what’s known as suicide contagion.
Experts have found that suicidal behavior can be transmitted, either directly by having a personal connection with someone who died by suicide or indirectly through how suicide is covered by the media. In tight-knit communities, where everyone knows everyone, contagion can lead to suicide clusters, particularly among teenagers and young adults.
Fortunately, that didn’t happen in San Juan Bautista or San Benito County. California Department of Public Health data shows the county’s suicide rate is below the state’s overall rate.
But suicide remains a pressing concern. Getting help at the right time can make a world of difference. Nine out of 10 people who survive an attempt and receive medical care ultimately go on living; of those nine, seven never try again.
The suicide hotline in San Benito receives more calls each year, said Andrea Núñez, the Community Outreach Coordinator at Family Services Agency. Núnez also says this could be attributed to greater awareness of available services.
Many San Benito residents, said Mariana Pereyra-Pitts, the county’s Deputy Director of Clinical Services, seek care near their jobs in Santa Clara County rather than at home, weakening the demand for in-county services.
Being adjacent to the Bay Area makes it hard for a small county to retain clinicians. “Staff is really hard to come by because our wages are less than our surrounding, bigger counties where they can get paid more,” Pereyra-Pitts said. “Retaining or recruiting good, quality clinicians and staff is really hard.”
But for Tina West, more mental health services wouldn’t have changed what happened.
By December 2018, her father was finishing his term as mayor. He hadn’t sought reelection and was retiring in January. Though he felt anxious about retirement, he was looking forward to it, she said. Then, West had a stroke. Tina West said this played a big role.
Jim West had led a strong, active life. After leaving the Marines, he raced motorcycles, worked in the mining industry for decades and frequently sailed with his daughter on the Chesapeake Bay outside Washington, D.C. Even in his 40s and 50s, he told her he didn’t want to grow old. “I don’t want to have to be in a walker or a wheelchair,” she recalled him saying.
So when the stroke happened, he got angry, Tina West said.
“He didn’t want to have to fight and go through rehab, and not be fully independent,” she said. “He chose of his own free will not to do it. I miss him terribly and wish he were here, but I respect his choice.”
In San Benito County, nearly half of the 39 suicides reported in the past decade were men who took their lives with a firearm. “Women are twice as likely to attempt suicide, but men are twice as likely to complete a suicide,” said Makena Volzing, a psychologist for Family Services Agency of the Central Coast, the nonprofit that operates the suicide hotline and leads suicide prevention programs in Monterey, Santa Cruz, and San Benito counties. “That is because men tend to use more lethal means such as guns,” Volzing said.
For Tina West, it’s still hard recalling the suddenness. She had spoken with her father the week before and he seemed fine.
“He had a stroke, wrote a note, drove off in the truck, and never came back,” she said.
The legacy
A month after Jim West’s death, Cesar Flores, who became mayor of San Juan Bautista, climbed onto the running board of West’s refurbished Ford. Flores, a biker and longtime community activist, had met West years earlier at the Rotary Club. It was West who encouraged him to run for City Council, who helped him campaign and become the candidate with the most votes. Now West was gone and the atmosphere, Flores recalled, was somber.
So on that cold January morning, Flores, Botelho, Tina West and several other residents gathered to celebrate Jim West’s life.
In a small town, “When someone is missing, people notice,” said White from Behavioral Health. West’s death, she added, made the community much more aware of each other.
“When you’re small, you don’t have the resources of a big city, and all we have is each other,” she said. “The community got together and backed each other up like nobody’s business. It created more vigilance, and people became more caring.”
No known suicide has occurred in San Juan Bautista since West’s death eight years ago. West left his book collection to the local library, and it now occupies about six feet of shelf space under his name. A plaque bearing his name and highlighting “his passion for the community” and “his caring heart for his friends” was placed on the historic Juan Bautista de Anza National Historic Trail. Months after his death, antique car enthusiasts held a tour along the trail in his honor.
The city, following residents’ suggestions, named a new park after him. Mayor Jim West Memorial Park sits west of town at the end of a cul-de-sac, where children climb and run on the playground. Tina West has been there with her daughter and granddaughter. “It’s a legacy,” she said.
The park, Flores said, was the neighbors’ way of remembering an individual who made San Juan Bautista better.
“We should celebrate his life, what he contributed, and what made him happy,” Flores said. “We remember the good things, and we move on. We keep on doing what we’re doing: we keep on serving our community.”
This story was produced in partnership with the California Local News Fellowship. Another version of this story was published by The Guardian.
If you or someone you know is in crisis, help is available. In San Benito County, you can call (831) 902-2911, or the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline by calling or texting 988. You can also chat online at 988lifeline.org or text HOME to 741741 to connect with a crisis counselor.
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