ALL TOO HUMAN
After a claim of divine inspiration from Marilyn Loeffel and an hours worth of holding forth by John Ford, what else should one expect from a single afternoon meeting of the Shelby County Commission?
Well, a vote on rural school bonds, for one thing, or so thought proponents of the now sputtering measure designed to do an end-run around the established 3:1 funding raio favoring city over county schools and to finance construction of a new county high school at Arlington, along with renovations at various other schools.
Shelby County School Board president David Pickler, who with county schools superintendent Bobby Webb, fellow board member Ann Edmiston, and other interested parties waited around all afternoon for a last-gasp chance at passage, saw the bonds resolution, which had languished for months, be summarily deferred by a 6-3 vote that took less time to rush through than it took chairman Walter Bailey, a declared foe of the measure, to gabble out the vote totals for the record. Next item, Bailey then prodded reading clerk Brian Kuhn.
Not that Pickler and the other county school officials hadnt seen the handwriting on the wall. It didnt take 20-20 vision to read the meaning of Commissioner John Willinghams abrupt departure midway of the meeting. There went our seventh vote. Were dead! agonized Pickler, who looked for emissaries to send after Willingham, reportedly on his way to a medical office as part of his prep for some heart surgery scheduled for Wednesday.
Pickler also left voice mails for Willingham at the barbecue mavens publicly announced cell-phone number, 848-RIBS. All to no avail.
Though he acknowledged that a genuine health emergency might take precedence over what he saw as the desperate need to beat a deadline on accepting bids for the proposed school construction, Pickler had a hard time being philosophical. He [Willingham] made sure he got his casino vote in, then we had to wait out an hours worth of John Ford, then he goes before we can get our vote! he protested.
A corollary to that pronouncement, of course, was the assumption that Willingham, who has vehemently denied being a party to any trade-offs with other members, had agreed to cast an Aye vote for the school-bonds proposal in return for passage of his long-sought measure authorizing a study of the prospects for casino gambling at The Pyramid.
Willinghams pet project -- which, like the rural school-bonds proposal, had been bottled up and postponed for weeks -- had finally been voted on, and it squeaked through with the bare minimum of seven votes from the 13 commissioners..
The crucial vote evidently had been that of Joyce Avery, a suburban conservative who carefully specified that she was not a gambler but was willing to vote for a study of some means, any means of finding a profitable use for The Pyramid.
I challenge you, if you are an opponent [of casino gambling], find something else! Avery said. As she noted, when the FedEx Forum south of Beale Street is completed next year, the NBA Grizzlies will vacate The Pyramid, and so, it is believed, will the facilitys remaining major tenant, the University of Memphis basketball Tigers.
Commissioner Tom Moss, another reluctant voter for the proposal, stressed similar considerations when critical audience members, whose cards asking to speak on the issue had somehow been overlooked until the vote was cast, were finally permitted to express themselves.
We are not voting for gambling, just for the study, said Moss, who asked that Chairman Walter Bailey instruct the complainants to confine their comments to that point. (Bailey allowed as how he was powerless to impose such constraints.)
Asked point-blank afterward if her vote for the casino study had been conditioned on a commitment by Willingham to vote for the rural school bonds, the dutiful Avery (who, in order to be on time for a pre-meeting committee hearing, had dashed away early from the annual picnic of the Shelby County Republican Women, which she had been hosting) said forthrightly, Yes.
That qualified her, ex post facto, for some invective uttered earlier by Commissioner Marilyn Loeffel, who broke -- or, perhaps one should say, parted -- new ground in criticizing her colleagues approval of the casino study. Noting that at least one audience critic of the proposal had blamed government corruption for the vote, Loeffel associated herself with the sentiment, calling it divinely inspired.
Making her own charge that deals have been made, Loeffel then said she was ashamed to be a member of the board of commissioners.
(Although she evidently retains the loyalty of Chairman Bailey, whom she often votes with and hopes to succeed as chairman next year, Loeffel may have further estranged several Republican colleagues who have been pivately critical of her often pious mode of expression. And she has begun to draw fire, too, from Democrats like budget chairman Cleo Kirk, who recently took her to task for opposing a variety of budget cuts while also rejecting the need for a tax increase.)
Perhaps Loeffel interpreted the follow-up to the casino vote as divine retribution imposed on Willingham, who -- along with Julian Bolton (notably), Chairman Bailey, and others -- had to engage in a hour-long verbal duel of sorts with state Senator Ford, who appeared on behalf of the Public Building Authority to contest a resolution, sponsored by Willingham, seeking funding and investigative power for an independent commission consultant to look into expenditures on the new arena.
The duel ended without shedding much light (though it showcased Fords astonishing self-satisfaction and what Willingham conceded was the senators astounding grasp of the arena issue), and ended with passage of the resolution as another seven votes went Willinghams way.
But the debate ate up clock-time, and not long afterward Willingham, who had evidently asked that both the casino item and the arena proposal be moved up the agenda for an early vote, was out of there -- to the chagrin of Pickler, Webb, et al., who saw their hopes for the Arlington school project departing along with him.
Moss and Commissioner David Lillard, the commissions drum major for the rural school bonds, were surprisingly charitable toward Willingham, opting instead to blame the administration of county mayor A C Wharton for scuttling the bond issue.
Some weeks back Lillard had listened to Willingham express reservations at a committee hearing about some of the proposed Arlington school expenses and lambasted his colleague thusly: John, youre always trying to find snakes where none exist. In fact, youre something of a professional in that field!
But now he and Moss credited Willingham with sincerity and with being an honest broker on behalf of the administrations professed concerns about potential cost overruns. When they finally got the costs down [from $49 million to an estimated $41 million] John was willing to go with it. It was the administraton that was working against it, Moss said. Lillard nodded his assent.
In a post-portem (which could be just that) to the media, Pickler, too, eased up on Willingham -- concerning whom he had been near-apoplectic, earlier -- and focused the blame in the direction of Wharton, who, as Pickler noted, had been referred to by Willingham as the quarterback and who had begun to backpedal on what had once seemed to be his acquiescence in the rural school-bonds initiative.
Had Bailey, whose resistance to the proposal reflected an aversion to breaking with the A.D.A. (average daily attendance) formula favoring city schools, been influential in dissuading the mayor? No question that he has been a powerful opponent. Weve had many powerful opponents to deal with, said the unhappy Pickler.
He did catch a break, however. Republican Loeffel, who had always been with the majority of the commissions Democrats on the Arlington issue, basing her objections on cost-cutting considerations, did not claim inspiration from the Ultimate Opponent on this one. The battle, if it continued, would evidently do so on ordinary human terms.