By Frank Nuñez
Director, Vista Irrigation District | Candidate for City Council, District 1 | Small Business Owner | Filmmaker & Author
When I was a kid, there was always a moment on the drive home that told me we were close, whether we were coming back from Disneyland (back when ticket prices weren’t as big as Mickey’s ears) or driving north after watching Tony Gwynn come through with a big hit against the Dodgers.
The silhouette of the Tri-City Medical Center rising off the 78 signified that we were almost home.
For many of us in Vista, Oceanside, and Carlsbad, that building wasn’t just concrete and glass. It was a marker. A checkpoint. A quiet reassurance that we were home.
My story, like so many in North County, is written inside those walls.
My brother was born there. My wife was born there. Ten years ago, I stood in one of those rooms and watched my son Elijah take his first breath.
And long before that, when I was seven years old, I climbed a rusted pole on Maryland Drive. What seemed like just a little dust in my eyes turned into a freak accident—with eyes wide open, I saw darkness during the light of day.
A Tri-City doctor stepped in without panic or hesitation. As a kid, it felt like magic as they gave me my sight back.
This is the place where I’ve witnessed the highest joys of birth and the final breaths of loved ones departing this earth. It matters.
Which is why it’s hard to say this, but it needs to be said: the Tri-City many of us grew up with is not the Tri-City we see today.
Somewhere along the way, it faded into the background, like an old Motown track you only notice when it stops playing. Not all at once. Not dramatically. Just slowly.
Meanwhile, just down the road, other communities have surged forward, La Jolla and Escondido, building medical systems that reflect who they are today, not who they used to be.
Here in Coastal North County, we’ve been asked to settle.
As a Director on the Vista Irrigation District Board, and as someone whose family has been here since 1964, I’ve seen what happens when infrastructure doesn’t keep up with the people it serves. We feel it in longer drives and delayed care.
Measure H is our chance at a turning point.
Measure H will establish a 30-year partnership between Tri-City and Sharp HealthCare, bringing resources, experience, and a real commitment to modernizing what we already have.
For those of us raising families here, working here, building something here, this isn’t abstract. It’s practical.
Measure H means not having to leave our community for essential care.
It means restoring services that should never have disappeared.
It means aligning our healthcare with the reality of who North County has become.
Measure H represents stability without new taxes. The partnership agreement includes a $100 million commitment to modernize the facility, as well as a return of maternity and specialized care. That means families won’t have to leave their community for essential care. A strong hospital also strengthens property values, business growth, and community stability.
But beyond the bullet points, it represents something deeper: a decision not to fall behind.
I’ve spent my life telling stories, through film, through community work, and now through my upcoming memoir, Los Angeles Street: From Juvenile Hall to the Ballot Box.
That story is rooted right here. In these streets. In these neighborhoods. In places like Tri-City.
In all my reflections, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: the best stories don’t happen by accident. They happen when people decide to change the ending.
This is one of those moments.
If we demand transparency, stay engaged, and hold leadership accountable, this partnership can restore Tri-City to what it was always meant to be, a place that reflects the strength, resilience, and future of North County.
We’ve waited long enough. It’s time for our healthcare to catch up with our community.
