Up in the hills, hugging the
North Carolina border, is another notable Georgian you wouldn’t
recognize as easily as his down-the-road neighbor, Zell Miller.
Zell, Young Harris’ favorite son, has worn many hats—editor,
professor, lieutenant governor, governor, U.S. senator and senior
statesman—in his legendary career.
Standing erect in his cowboy boots,
Zell’s strong stances—backed by strong, often sharp words—made
him famous. Look no further than his gamble to launch a
state-sponsored lottery, spawning the HOPE scholarship program and
revolutionizing Georgia’s educational system.
You know Zell.
Now, meet another powerful Towns County
communicator: Jim Powell. For decades, you’ve seen his name and
artwork in this newspaper. And since mid-January, Jim’s been a
stalwart in helping alert you to the dangers of burying toxic coal
ash in our community. If a picture is truly worth 1,000 words, each
of Jim’s editorial cartoons have equal value.
So how did an artist, who’s drawn
about 5,000 cartoons, get started? Like many of us, Jim was a
doodler. In 1964, a blank piece of paper and a pencil launched Jim.
He said, “That was about the time LBJ became more that just letters
in my bowl of alphabet soup.” While at Young Harris College,
doodling morphed into sketching cartoons for Hiawassee’s Towns
County Herald in Hiawassee and later a 15-year career as
reporter. In time, his syndicated cartoons were appearing in several
dozen newspapers, including The Press-Sentinel.
Today, Jim’s day job is a
telecommunications analyst and manager of a community TV station for
a local cable station. At night, after visiting with his wife,
Roxanne, and their beloved pointer-terrier, Charlie, Jim shifts to
his studio. Nearby, Roxanne serves as an editor and member of the
creative team. Jim laughs, “Even Charlie will bark or
growl—showing his approval or disapproval—when I show him a
sketch.”
Lately, Charlie’s
been busy growling at coal ash. So far, Jim’s drawn 14 cartoons on
Wayne County’s coal-ash controversy. From the start, Jim jumped
into the fight. Like us, he’s connected to his roots. People and
their love of land have been a part of him since his growing-up days
on his family’s farm. If you’ve detected a down-home flavor to
Jim’s cartoons, you’re right. As a boy, he got a small-town
education in his grandfather’s country store. Between sips of RC
Colas and nibbles on Moon Pies, men of the community explored topics
from hound dogs to taxes.
My first hint that I was interested in
journalism was my fascination with Thomas Nast, 1840-1902. I came
across the “Father of the American Cartoon” in a newspaper class
at The University of Georgia. Nast “kicked butt and took names”
as he attacked government corruption. His cartoons brought down
“Boss” Tweed and the Tammany Hall Democratic political machine.
My fantasy about becoming a butt-kicking cartoonist was cut short
when I realized that I was just another doodler with no artistic
talent.
That’s why I was pleased to meet Jim
25 years ago. He’s never too busy. I can call or e-mail Jim with
an idea, and presto! Somewhere around midnight, a proof
shows up on my screen. While The Press-Sentinel’s news team
has fed anti-coal-ash suggestions to him, Jim’s been quick to offer
us a plethora of ideas. His mind rarely rests.
Wayne County is in a
this-could-change-our-lives-forever fight to stop Republic from
dumping toxic coal ash on us. And while Zell Miller is a household
name, I wanted you to get to know Jim Powell, too. Even from 300
miles away, we couldn’t have a more concerned friend than Jim.
Isn’t that right, Charlie?