It’s another thing coming from a highly trained and
competent professional associated with the president of the United States of
America. We’ve seen it. The dude says something really stupid. Next day an
expert in the field goes on national TV to claim that the statement was either
not made or was misunderstood. It’s worse when one of them actually corrects
the president and has to deliver a mea culpa next day. There the whole world
watches while a decent human being backtracks “bigly” for speaking truth. You just
wonder what caused the reversal.
Know what it reminds me of? It reminds me of an incident
years and years ago when I first went out to serve as a consultant to a town of
10,000 people some 45 miles southwest of Little Rock. I was young, dumb and full of
it back then. I had hoisted anchor, laid down my sword and shield, and was a
(not quite yet) highly paid urban planner. Then I watched something
that gave me quick and lasting lesson about life in America.
It happened this way. In this town lived a man. All towns
had them, some more than one. He was a combination real estate broker, insurance
agent, and banker. They grew like weeds in our state … were like weeds in fact.
This one was a particularly mean old bastard. He was the kind who would kick a
poor family out on the street in the morning for missing one payment in ten
years while buying a home from him “on contract.” Then he would attend his Rotary
Club meeting at lunch, check in at the bank, drop by the church with a
donation, and go home. Later, he would take the widow next door some fresh
tomatoes from his garden.
He came to a planning commission one night to announce plans
for a project in the middle of the only decent neighborhood in the city for African-American
families. The project would make him some money while exerting a devastating impact on the neighborhood, ruining the property values. It just needed a little of what
we call “spot zoning.” In my ignorance, I advised against it, advice to which
no one paid the least attention. It did elicit a blistering denouncement about “This
kid from Little Rock, who probably hasn’t done a valuable day’s work in his
life, coming here to tell us how to run the best town in Arkansas.”
I didn’t shrug it off. I did what I always do. I filed it
away. I’ve found it all pays the same and revenge is, as they say, a dish best
served cold. Trust me. That old account was settled long ago.
The planning commissioners did listen to a spokesperson from
the neighborhood. He was an articulate man who held a professional job and was married
to a school teacher. They were purchasing a nice home in the neighborhood and
feared the impact of the project proposed by the businessman. The neighborhood
was their only choice for decent, stable housing and their dreams could be
shattered by the proposed project. He
presented such a reasoned argument that the commission tabled the proposal a
month for further study.
Imagine my surprise the next month when the homeowner arose
and announced that, upon further study, he now supported the project and, further,
apologized to the banker for speaking out before he had examined all the facts.
The inevitable then happened.
Later, I couldn’t resist asking the town’s city manager
about the reversal of attitude. What had changed the man’s mind?
“Oh, he just got reminded who held the mortgage on his home,
who was head of the School Board, and who was a fraternity brother of his boss.”
It’s always something, isn’t it?
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