WAYSTATION SHOWDOWN COLETTE SEEKS RENOVATED SANCTUARY.

Byline: Kerry Cavanaugh Staff Writer

After nearly 20 months of fighting to save her beloved Wildlife Waystation, Martine Colette will ask a judge Thursday to OK a major renovation of the facility that could lead to its eventual reopening.

Regulators closed the largest wild animal sanctuary west of the Mississippi River, citing a long list of violations: ramshackle cages, veterinary care, unsafe buildings and crumbling roads.

On Thursday, Waystation attorneys will ask the judge handling their criminal environmental-crimes case to order the sanctuary to complete cage renovations - a legal route that could help the Waystation circumvent county permits and lead to a faster reopening.

``It would be a major first step,'' said Robert H. Lorsch, the philanthropist and politically active businessman who has stepped forward to rescue Colette and her cherished creation.

He does most of the talking for the Waystation now. And Colette - who for 27 years has been the face and voice for the Waystation mission - is forbidden by Los Angeles County from taking contributors, reporters or anyone else to the chaparral-covered hills at the top of Little Tujunga Canyon Road where big cats, bears, chimpanzees, snakes and other animals have found refuge.

``I have given my word to these animals that I would ensure their care and survival,'' Colette said during a rare and lengthy interview about the Waystation several months ago. ``When I went to Bob, I knew there was nothing I could do. ...''

The words trailed off as she fought back tears.

``They say the Waystation has been a violator and abuser of the law of Los Angeles County for years, and they have created this situation,'' Lorsch said.

``I say, 'OK, but this is a new day. It's new people. It's my credibility.'''

Colette no longer is executive director. She is in charge of animal care.

She pleaded no contest last October to 200 federal animal-welfare violations and lost her U.S. Department of Agriculture license to exhibit animals. She's on probation stemming from criminal charges filed by the Los Angeles County District Attorney's Environmental Crimes Division for creek alterations.

``She's been punished,'' Lorsch said. ``I've sat on the phone with her and heard her cry.''

The story of the Wildlife Waystation is the story of Martine Colette.

Colette spent her childhood tagging along on safaris in Africa with her father, a Belgian diplomat. An only child, Colette found her companions in the wild animals around her. And she developed an uncanny understanding of them that she carried even after landing in Hollywood and marrying a movie-industry insider.

The Waystation's roots go back to 1965. At that time, it was relatively easy to buy a lion; it was very chic in Hollywood to keep exotic pets - until owners lost interest.

Colette found her calling among these castoffs, and her Hollywood home and yard became their haven.

She used money she earned designing costumes for the popular music group Earth, Wind & Fire to buy food and veterinary care for the animals. She eventually bought 160 acres in the Angeles National Forest.

Settled into the new Waystation, she began taking in zoo animals too old to be displayed, injured native wildlife and confiscated exotics. There was no template, no laws and no guidance for building an animal sanctuary. Her first county permit was drafted in crayon on butcher paper.

Colette's reputation grew, and so did her following. A legion of devoted volunteers came forward to care and feed the animals and help raise funds.

``She has an incredible, innate ability with animals,'' said Peggy Summers, a volunteer and member of the Waystation board.

``She can walk up to a cage with lions rescued eight or 10 years ago, and they'll run up to her and rub against her. That's what it's really all about with the Waystation.''

In one now-famous incident, Colette was called to help a bear cub stuck up a tree. Animal control officers stood staring at the creature until Colette arrived, climbed the tree and came down with the bear in tow.

Colette shrugs off such tales. Yes, she rescued the bear from the tree. She climbs into cages with lions. Chimpanzees share her house.

``I know my subject well,'' she said. ``I understand my subject, and, because I understand my subject, I can do things other people can't.''

Colette did not have the same touch with people. She offended and bruised some in animal-rescue circles.

``I don't live in a world of tact. I'm a very direct person. I normally speak what's in my head, and people don't necessarily like to hear that.''

Since the 1980s, regulations governing animal cages, veterinary care and county building requirements have stiffened.

In the 1990s, the U.S. Department of Agriculture said it found unsafe cages, poorly trained caregivers and unsanitary conditions at the Waystation.

In 1995, the state Department of Fish and Game, citing building and safety violations, sought to prevent the refuge from taking in more animals, noting that Waystation officials ``seem unwilling to comply with the basic requirements.''

Reality doesn't always fit the regulations, Colette responded.

``A phone rings and there's 392 ducks with botulism coming in. You don't have a pen ready. You learn to be extremely creative. Am I wrong in that? Absolutely. I should have been checking it every day. But that's not my nature. That's not me. I certainly never did anything that I thought was illegal.''

Her never-say-no attitude led to housing 1,200 animals at one time - a menagerie the size of the Los Angeles Zoo.

``You can't take animals unless you're able to provide them the basic necessities,'' said Pat Derby, who heads the Performing Animal Welfare Society, an exotic-animal sanctuary near Sacramento.

``When I look at the number of animals at the Waystation, personally, if someone showed me that number of animals for a zoo, I would be concerned. I feel they'd need an incredible amount of staff and resources.''

The Waystation became a multimillion-dollar charity, boasting celebrity memberships, posh safari brunches and auctions. Through the mid-1990s, the sanctuary brought in $2 million to $4 million a year. It had a $2.5 million operating budget, according to 2001 tax forms.

Along with success came controversy. In 1994, half of the sanctuary's board of directors quit, alleging money mismanagement - charges Colette dismissed as sour grapes over how the refuge should be run. A probe by the state Attorney General's Office is still open.

In April 2000, state Fish and Game officials ordered the sanctuary closed to visitors and new animals after reporting that they found animal excrement running into a creek.

The refuge reopened eight months later, but was shut down again in September 2001 by the county because it lacked a 700,000-gallon tank to provide water for fighting fires.

Last December, county inspectors found more violations. The reptile house was condemned. An employee was using an animal cage as an office.

The Waystation now faces up to $20 million in renovations but raising money remains an obstacle.

``The clock ticks for the Waystation,'' Lorsch said. ``The Waystation is running out of money.''

He hopes the judge Thursday will order construction of new chimp cages - a move that would let the Waystation temporarily skip complex county rules and get re-permitted to exhibit animals and raise money.

County Counsel Roberta M. Fesler said she'd be surprised if a judge involved in a criminal case would override the county regulations.

The Waystation, she said, ``has been trying to get someone to come to their rescue and not actually complying with the legally required processes.''

As for Colette, she stays behind the scene, caring for the animals while Lorsch and others try to rid the Waystation of its past troubles.

``I feel so tragic for a lot of the animals and a lot of the people,'' Colette said. ``I know hundreds of animals have died because we haven't been able to help them. For someone who has dedicated her life to the cause of helping animals, to know that is very distressing.''

CAPTION(S):

2 photos

Photo:

(1 -- color) Tigress Lurkana, one of the tigers taken in by the Wildlife Waystation.

(2 -- color) Martine Colette, former director of the Wildlife Waystation, is lending what support she can to an effort to renovate and revive the sanctuary.

(3 -- color) Silvio Santinelli, a veterinarian at the Wildlife Waystation, strides through an empty lion cage in January.

Charlotte Schmid-Maybach/Staff Photographer