If you are in a foxhole with a battle
raging all around, you want—by your side—a soldier with the brains and the
backbone to help you win. I’ve never
been in a war with bullets whizzing over my helmet. However, I’ve been in
plenty of scraps where I needed someone with unquestionable loyalty watching my
back, while fighting with all his or her heart.
Derby
Waters is one of those unsung heroes in too many skirmishes to count. For 50 years—since high school, we’ve been
friends. Saturday night, I saw this
humble man blush and be almost at a loss for words. And if you know Derby, that was a rare
moment—finding him speechless.
The Satilla Riverkeepers surprised
him with its coveted “Conservationist of the Year” award. Standing up for the
environment is nothing new for the preacher’s son from Screven. In the early 1970s—when there was talk of dredging
the Altamaha River for barge traffic—Derby got baptized into the
often-turbulent-waters of the conservation movement. He’s been a staunch advocate of God’s
creations ever since. If there’s a
fight, you want Derby Waters on your side.
Just ask Lindsay Thomas.
On a cold, blustery Sunday
afternoon in the winter of 1982, I was home alone when the phone rang. Lindsay said, “I need to come to see you.”
Thirty minutes later, we were
propping our feet on the fireplace hearth and letting sizzling red-oak coals
take off the chill.
I
thought the Screven farmer had come to talk about a hunting segment we were
planning for our cable TV channel.
Instead, he startled me, saying: “I want to run for Congress, and I need
your help.” Without hesitation, I
pledged my support and a forthcoming check.
That part was easy.
Then,
Lindsay shifted gears.
“I have another favor to ask,” he
said. “I want to borrow your editor,
Derby, to run my campaign.” If Derby was
willing, so was I. I was all in for Lindsay
and Wayne County. But I had a request:
“When you are done with Derby, please, send him back to us. We need him, too.”
When Congressman Bo Ginn announced
he was running for governor, the First District race got crowded in a
hurry. The often-repeated line was that
Savannah banker and Republican, Herb Jones, was going to be our next
congressman.
Apparently, the political pundits
didn’t know much about Lindsay and even less about Derby, his untested
political strategist. Lindsay carried
all 20 counties in the district, and Herb Jones kept on banking.
Lindsay was sitting in the audience
Saturday night, too, when Derby was called into the limelight. The former congressman led the standing
ovation of 150 packed into the banquet hall overlooking the sugar-white shores
and black water of the Satilla River in Brantley County.
Lindsay served five stellar terms
in Congress, but he’ll quickly tell you that his first campaign was a dogfight
victory, directed by Derby’s “guts, intelligence, unlimited energy and
imagination.”
There are so many Derby
stories. One of my favorite
this-tells-you-about-the-man examples is from his reporting days at The Baxley
News-Banner. An angry county
commissioner whipped out a pocket knife and held its blade against Derby’s
throat and threatened to cut his head off.
With a steady hand and a confident gaze into the politician’s eyes,
Derby pushed away the knife and said, “I don’t think you want to do that.”
Yeah.
That’s who I want in my
foxhole.
A brave soldier and friend, just
like Derby.
dnesmith@cninewspapers.com
