Back when I was squirming in
those rock-hard desks at Orange Street Elementary School, my teachers didn’t
know about attention deficit disorder (ADD.)
Mildred Jones, Gussie Richardson and Sara James simply declared, “Son, you have ants in your pants!”
Those wonderful
ladies are gone, but my inability to sit still is very much alive. And if anything squirms more than my bottom,
it is my brain. In this landfill
controversy, the “ants” have crawled from my pants into my brain.
Somewhere,
somehow, there has to be an acceptable resolve for Republic Services and the citizens of Wayne County. The Broadhurst Environmental Landfill, like
it or not, is here to stay. Your
newspaper has been here since 1865. The Press-Sentinel isn’t going anywhere
either. I am confident that tens of
thousands of you feel the same way. No
one, not even a multibillion-dollar behemoth, can snatch up our roots, our love,
or our loyalty to this place we call Wayne County.
Over the last
week, I have had multiple telephone conversations and face-to-face visits with
people on both sides of this brouhaha.
Sunday afternoon, as I was driving, I was rolling around all the
comments I had heard. Out of nowhere, a
Simon and Garfunkel tune popped into my head.
I began humming “Mrs. Robinson,” and then I got to “Where have you gone, Joe Dimaggio?” in the 1968 lyrics.
Now, what does
a New York Yankees legend have to do with a wetlands-destroying rail spur and
millions of tons of toxic coal ash? Absolutely
nothing. I’ve already told you about the
incessant whirring of my brain, and that explains how my thinking jumped tracks
to Henry Kissinger.
Huh?
 |
| ANIMAL FIGURE CREDIT: ARTIST WALT KELLY |
Yes, the former
United States secretary of state and national security advisor back in the era
of Presidents Richard Nixon and Gerald Ford.
Kissinger’s keen mind and negotiating skills won him a Nobel Prize. At 94, he’s probably not interested in
hopping on Amtrak to Jesup for a peace-talks summit. However, that’s the kind of facilitator we
need—now—to pull together a forum to
explore the right steps to a win-win resolution.
When Republic
presented its latest proposal on July 20, the waste-management company thought
it was providing a way to erase the community’s angst about toxic coal
ash—forever. Republic called it a “good
neighbor” plan. For the most part, it
has been perceived as anything but a good neighbor gesture. Now, we have Goliath
frustrated and digging in his heels. To
compound matters, the county and our three municipalities can’t seem to agree.
This is what I
think. Negotiations have to start
somewhere. Republic’s first draft is exactly
that—a first draft. But before our
officials start negotiations, something else needs to happen. The people of Wayne
County—elected and otherwise—need to decide what we are willing to accept. There should be a series of town-hall
meetings with county, Jesup, Odum, and Screven officials, along with Solid Waste
Authority members and the taxpaying citizens of Wayne County.
We
must identify the things most important to us in the upcoming
negotiations. If Henry Kissinger were
here, he would tell us, “You must be united, or you will not be
successful.” We must not let positive
dialogue collapse while we squabble among ourselves.
Oops, my mind has jumped again.
This
time, I’m in the Okefenokee Swamp.
Walt Kelly’s
cartoon possum explains exactly what we must avoid.
Pogo said, “We have met the enemy and he is us.”
No, no.
We can’t have that
happen here!
dnesmith@cninewspapers.com
