Madison Taylor

My column this week is a tribute to free association … had a lot going on. Apologies, it’s the best I could do this week.

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Concerning the fluoride in public water imbroglio, I don’t really have much of an opinion.

But here are a few thoughts.

Where I grew up there was not a drop of what my dad called “town water.” We tapped into a spring a couple hundred yards in the woods behind the house.

It was the best-tasting water in the world. My dad always said that was because the spring lizards pooped in it.

Uhhh, OK.

Every time I went to the dentist as a little kid I had a mouthful of cavities, even though I brushed my teeth three times a day per my mom’s instructions.

Well, maybe two times a day.

Years later when I worked for the Daily News in Jacksonville we covered a long-running story about people who lived aboard Camp Lejeune whose children became tragically sick over decades. They traced the illnesses to chemicals from groundwater contamination stemming from a civilian business adjacent to the Marine Corps base.

Bad chemicals lurked in the otherwise innocent-looking water. The folks at the Centers for Disease Control called the situation like the one depicted in the movie “A Civil Action.”

So who knows what’s in drinking water anywhere at any time on any given day.

Drink up!

Concerning the appointment of former councilman Jim Butler to Burlington’s City Council I have this to say first: Congratulations to Mr. Butler. He served the city well once and should probably do so again.

But his appointment to Steve Ross’s vacant seat was more predictable than Duke making the NCAA Tournament.

Really, who didn’t see it coming?

Burlington leaders have a history of choosing friends and former colleagues instead of venturing outside their collective comfort zones for perhaps a fresh voice from the community. Councilman David Huffman said as much when the selection process began.

So this application deal was something of a sham probably.

Would a new face really be so terrible?

Concerning the town hall style meeting to discuss restoration of East Burlington, I originally thought elected city leaders not showing up and leaving the talks entirely up to residents was a bad idea.

But I was wrong.

Way wrong.

The turnout Thursday night for the first meeting was exceptional. Fact is, they had to find more room to house all the folks who came in, rolled up their sleeves, and proceeded to get to work providing ideas for city leaders to ultimately act upon.

Public transportation came up again, it’s the gum on the collective shoes of local government in the area. The city doesn’t appear able to afford it.

But can the city afford not to?

Either way, let’s hear some applause for residents working toward a common goal without political oversight or interference.

But I hope city politicians are there to listen when the recommendations start to take shape.

Concerning a meeting last week of downtown Burlington supporters and an expert on revitalizing cityscapes, I have one observation.

Why hold such a meeting at Elon University instead of downtown Burlington?

Just sayin’.

Concerning the clash last week between the Alamance County Board of Commissioners and Alamance-Burlington Board of Education, I think it’s clear these two sides are almost as far apart as fans of UNC and Duke.

And that was before the name-calling began, though I’m not sure a school leader wanting to be left alone by county politicians is a “radical” idea — just interested in protecting the interests of those they were elected to serve.

What seems clear is that the school system is dickering with the county to restore funding to previous levels and promise to keep it that way before agreeing to meet the county’s request for a policy of how the school system handles rainy day money, or the fund balance

Not sure that can happen. Not sure it should, either.

What also seems clear is that the commissioners want to micromanage how the school system spends every nickel of its money.

Not sure the commissioners are qualified for that particular job either.

In the long run, it would be in everyone’s best interest if both sides could somehow find some common ground, join hands and sing “Kumbaya.”

Now that would be “radical.”

The machinery of local government is the topic of my print column this week. It hums along, except when it doesn’t. Hilarity does not follow.

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Yeah right, whatever.

Yeah right, whatever.

Yeah right, whatever.

This is the sound of local government machinery in action. To be fair, it doesn’t make this barely audible hum 100 percent of the time. But it nearly always does when it comes to appointing  people to random local advisory boards, councils and committees. The names of nominees roll by. Those in authority to appoint sometimes know who they are, but most often do not. They take a cursory look at who the nominees are, if that. Usually if someone else vouched for that person in the nominating process, it’s deemed plenty and OK.

Then the often-noted rubber stamp comes out.

STAMP . . .

. . . and everybody moves on to bigger issues like school funding.

Yeah right, whatever.

Yeah right, whatever.

Yeah right, whatever.

Except, of course, when it doesn’t go down that way.

Yeah ri— whoa, wait a minute hold on here . . .

It’s rare, but it happens. And when it does, well, there can often be a large “clank-clunk-psheeew” sound like a previously purring automobile that’s thrown a rod on the interstate. It’s usually the sign of a malfunction. In the case of local government, it usually means something has choked on its mindless consistency or lack thereof.

Example A: The Alamance County Board of Commissioners.

Last week, the board did the “yeah right, whatever” as usual when it comes to appointments, except when it came to a guy named Scott Zienty who was a nominee to be on the Alamance County Human Relations Council. That’s when the “Yeah ri— whoa” hokey-pokey started. The commissioners sent the nomination back to the 20-plus member Human Relations Council for further review.

And really, the only thing questionable about the commissioners doing so is that they almost never, ever do it at all.

Now Zienty believes the action stems from his connection to pro-Latino efforts in the community via  his work with Centro La Comunidad — an organization dedicated to providing resources for Hispanic residents. He has no real proof of it other than that thing about the commissioners almost never taking the action they did. For their part, many of the commissioners say there’s no bias involved, only that Zienty hasn’t lived in the community long enough. He’s been here about 18 months.

A fair point, only there are no guidelines governing how long a person has to live in Alamance County to be appointed. And commissioners also conveniently overlooked that just over four months ago they appointed someone to the same Human Relations Council who had lived in the community less than a year.

Ahhh, the inconsistency of consistency.

Tom Manning, the chairman of the commissioners and his colleagues, questioned why Zienty would go to the media rather than the commissioners if he had concerns about the process. The media is actually the right place to go for people who feel somehow wronged by the system. Put it this way, when was the last time the system corrected itself at someone’s direct request? The commissioners just don’t like the queries coming from a reporter.

And if, as some of the commissioners suspect, Zienty is merely a publicity hound seeking to make them look bad, well, they sure supplied him the required ammunition.

In this case, it’s Commissioner Tim Sutton who has the right idea. Instead of doing the old “yeah right, whatever” when appointing any of these board nominees the commissioners should review each one with care — like a job applicant. They should look closely at the bonafides and ask questions about each and every one equally. And they should have a standard set of rules to follow that outline in detail what would automatically disqualify a nominee. Keep those standards public for all to see.

That way, when a question like the one Zienty poses is asked, there is no room for accusations or speculation.

And who knows, it might even improve the process overall and produce even better advisory boards, councils and committees.

On the other hand, it would require more work on the part of commissioners. They might have to actually conduct research, then leave their politics behind and make informed choices.

Yeah, right … whatever.

Sunday is usually a big day for William Skenes. It’s an occupational thing. He’s a church pastor.

But as the final months of 2012 began, it became tougher for him to get to the pulpit at Cornerstone Baptist Church in Whitsett. He ached in his back and legs. Just rising from bed became a daily struggle. Many of his mornings began by falling to his knees as he left the bed, and pulling himself up on his feet by using a nightstand as a brace.

Most days he just felt awful.

“A lot of times I had to get someone to go in and preach for me because I just couldn’t do it,” Skenes, 72, says today.

It was a condition that started a couple of years ago and only got worse as time wore on. His doctor was puzzled. There seemed to be no answer at all.

Skenes pretty much gave up.

“It got so bad that I even told my children before Christmas that I wouldn’t be here next year,” Skenes says. “That’s how far gone I was.”

Then Skenes read a story in the Times-News. It changed his life.

The date was Friday, Dec. 28. The story was headlined, “A slow, slient killer.” It was about Alan Stephens of Haw River and a mystery ailment that befuddled doctors as it decimated him bit by bit.

Skenes read the story carefully. He noted that Stephens’ started with flu-like symptoms, persistent weakness, aches in his bones followed later by memory and other neurological problems. No one, it seemed, had an answer. Then Stephens’ wife became sick as well and the founder of Genesis Solutions, a Burlington wellness program, did his own detective work online. By typing in his symptoms one of the potential culprits listed was carbon monoxide poisoning.

Bingo.

Stephens bought a carbon monoxide detector and found high levels of the toxic gas in his home. Its source was a problem in the ventilation system in his gas logs created when his house was remodeled.

The story set off an alarm bell for Skenes. “Could it be …”, he wondered.

“I was experiencing the same situation,” Skenes says. “I read that, went to Lowes and got me a detector, set it up and it went right off. My grandson-in-law is a firefighter. He came over and told me the detector had three bars.”

Skenes traced the problem to a heating unit outside his house that wasn’t functioning properly. He said most people think if the system is outdoors, that makes it safer.

Not always.

“Anybody that has gas in their house needs one of those detectors because it can go wrong at any time and you never know when it might happen,” he said. “I could kick myself because I worked for the gas company 14 years.”

Skenes said the Times-News story, written by reporter Steve Huffman, saved his life.

I was speechless when he first told me that. Every day we hope to inform people about a large variety of subjects. It’s not often, though, that someone calls to tell us that something we print has such a profound impact. Makes me want to stay in the business a day or two longer.

“Right now I feel as good as I ever felt,” he says. “I wanted to thank you for publishing the story and the man who gave it to you. I wanted you to know that I appreciate it.

“I can’t express it enough.”

I contacted Stephens to pass along the message. He wrote back immediately.

“Thanks, Madison, let me know if you need additional information on carbon monoxide poisoning. Before, I knew nothing about it, but my experience has forced me to become an expert. I feel as though God chose me to make this community aware.”

Skenes would agree. He believes he isn’t the only one helped by the story. He’s doing his part to spread the word. Skenes says the $28 he spent for a carbon monoxide detector is perhaps the best money he ever invested, and he wants to tell folks so.

I asked him if it would be OK for me to write about his experiences. I might even mention what a good investment buying a newspaper is, too.

“I’d appreciate it,” he said. “The more you get out of it, the better off people are going to be.

“(A smoke detector) doesn’t cost but $28, but it saved my life, no doubt.”

My print column this week goes into more detail about a previous post.

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Sometimes, life is like a giant puzzle. Folks have to connect the dots, find the hidden items or detect the obvious differences between one image and the next.

Tough, but not impossible.

A newspaper’s not so different. Reporters write what they’re told or about what they find. In the best possible scenario, reporters present straight-up information. Their stories are published and people take a look when the newspaper arrives at their house the next morning and draw their own conclusions.

Then perhaps they read between the lines. Can’t blame them. It’s where the most interesting things can sometimes be found.

And for those who enjoy reading between the lines, well, last week was like “War and Peace” “Moby Dick” and “And for Whom the Bell Tolls” all rolled into one.

The two stories in question involved the on-again and off-again proposal by Sheriff Terry Johnson to get raises for his staff, a group that, let’s face it, is sorely in need of a salary bump after about four or five years without one. They need a raise and then some — in a perfect world.

In that respect, several hundred Alamance County employees fall into the same category. Lots of people in private businesses do too, for that matter.

Just say it’s been a long dry spell in paycheck-land. I wish they could all get raises.

Anyway, the sheriff was scheduled to speak to the Alamance County Board of Commissioners Tuesday night. On the agenda, it stated his reason for doing so was to discuss a “Staffing and Retention Proposal.”

And that’s pretty much all the agenda had to say on the subject. The accompanying agenda package made available to commissioners, the media and public also offered no other details.

Weird.

That’s because usually — but not always — agenda packets are crammed with background information, facts, figures, charts and graphics about whatever is to be discussed. Makes sense. People can’t be expected to vote on something they have no time to study. And the public should be aware enough in advance so they know whether to offer support or criticism before a vote is taken.

Democracy in action, as they say.

So when the agenda arrived, we had some questions. For a story prior to the meeting, our reporter spoke to Sheriff’s Office spokesman Randy Jones because the sheriff was not available. He confirmed that the sheriff would be seeking raises across the board for his staff. We heard 9 percent. Not sure if that’s the case or not. Jones couldn’t say one way or another. He also provided no specifics about how the county would pay for the increases. It was clear, though, the Sheriff’s Office is having trouble keeping personnel, who are going where the grass is greener. Can’t really blame them.

According to our story, though, commissioners David Smith and Bill Lashley were pretty well versed on what the sheriff was planning to propose and how he thought the county might pay for it. They knew even though Johnson did not make any specific part of his presentation available in advance to County Manager Craig Honeycutt.

Commissioner Tom Manning, who’s only the board chairman, by the way, and Commissioner Linda Massey didn’t know any nuts and bolts about the proposal, except that the sheriff would address the board.  Massey perhaps had more of a head’s up, but nothing set in stone. Commissioner Tim Sutton said he only knew details about the matter because he specifically requested the information — more than once.

On the day our first story appeared Tuesday, the sheriff called our reporter prior to the meeting to say the proposal would be delayed until closer to budget time. He said he had spoken to four commissioners about the plans — including Sutton and Massey — a few weeks ago. Sutton said it was late last year. At that time Sutton said he told the sheriff he would support it if the numbers indicated it could be paid for without a tax increase. The sheriff didn’t speak to Manning about it at all until the day our story was published.

So, reading between the lines, let’s recap.

■ The sheriff talked to four of five commissioners in advance over the past few weeks individually — but not in a group of more than two. This remains within the boundary of the state Open Meetings Law, but pretty much obliterates the spirit of the law.

■ He only freely offered specifics of his plan to two — Smith and Lashley — without being requested to do so by a third.

■ He only advised the board chairman of his proposal at all after a story was already published about it.

■ He would not give an advance copy of his proposal, which would impact the county budget, to the county manager.

■ No advance copy of the proposal was available in the agenda packet provided to the public and media.

■ Looks like transparency in how government operates or even the very idea of open government was not part of the equation.

Between the lines, that’s how the puzzle pieces seem to fit, anyway.

The lazy columnist offers random thoughts on a January Sunday.

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Pondering life’s inconsistencies while waiting for the next snowfall this year.

Hopefully it’ll be a long, long wait.

By the way, did anybody hear that thundersnow the other night?

How about who didn’t hear it?

Who believes it’ll be followed by a major snowstorm in a week to 10 days? I can tell you my mom thinks it’ll happen.

The LabCorp aircraft that fell onto a ball field at Mayco Bigelow Community Center was an incident that could have been far, far worse.

Witnesses — and there were many of them at 6 a.m. on a working day — say the doomed pilot, 57-year-old David Gamble of Greensboro, should be thanked for doing all he could to avoid crashing the Priatus turbo-prop into nearby houses.

Nearly all who saw it agreed he intentionally put the aircraft in the one place it could do the least harm.

No ‘thank you’ could be large enough to adequately cover the tab for that kind of heroism.

But thanks anyway Mr. Gamble, rest in peace and bless your family.

Public schools all over the nation are talking about campus security following the elementary school massacre in Newtown, Conn. before Christmas.

From where I sit, they can’t talk enough about safety at school these days.

More’s the pity.

A lot of North Carolina schools require that visitors receive ID tags and sign in whenever they visit a public school campus. Makes sense to me. Teachers or administrators would know right away if someone unauthorized is lurking around.

That way, any stranger on campus would set off two dozen alarm bells.

Speaking of security in public schools, when I was a high school student back during the Ford Administration we had absolutely no fear of guns on campus whatsoever. Never once thought about it.

Knives were another story.

Every scary kid in school was said to have a switchblade that varied in size from 6 inches to the length of a machete.

Which made that kid even scarier.

But a lot of kids had rifles in the trunks of their cars or the backs of pickup trucks and parked right in front of the school in plain sight.

Some went hunting before the first bell even started.

Not anymore.

Pet Peeve, Winter Storm Division: People too slack to scrape the snow and ice off their vehicles before venturing out onto the highway.

Nothing like having chunks of ice fly off their car and onto my windshield while driving on Church Street.

I’m not a big fan of snow, by the way.

Got on a mission Friday to find sugar-free ketchup.

Don’t ask.

I was sort of surprised the other day to read criticism on social media of a proposal to up the requirements for graduation from high school in the Alamance-Burlington School System.

Usually I read vociferous comments demanding that more be required from students today. After all, how are they going to compete in the world otherwise?

If approved, students would need 28 course credits, an increase from 25, to graduate starting with the 2013-14 school year. Guilford, Orange, Rockingham and Durham counties already require 28 credits.

Seems reasonable.

Personal Confession Department: When I was in high school back during the Ford Administration, I would’ve found this reasonable in the least.

The saga of Notre Dame’s All-America linebacker Manti Te’o and the hoax that involves an online girlfriend who never existed is one of the more bizarre college football stories this year.

Perhaps of all time.

Ultimately, we’ll know how large a part, if any, Te’o played in the hoax.

Or if he’s the innocent victim of a prank gone far awry, as Notre Dame suggests.

But at least we know two things:

There was a system failure by reporters in print, TV and online concerning how this story was pursued. And I fear it won’t be the last time.

And 2. Why Te’o played so horribly against Alabama in the national title game.

While I’m thinking about it: So long, Lance Armstrong.

By the way, Monday is the day devoted to remembering the late Rev. Dr.  Martin Luther King Jr. Lots of people are off work that day. I’m not one of them.

Weather permitting, there will be a march from downtown Burlington to the Mayco Bigelow Community Center.

I plan to walk this year if I can get away from the office and to the Occasions parking lot at 11 a.m. Monday.

Hope to see you there.

The print column for Jan. 6 had everything to do with my family’s history. Hope it wasn’t too much inside baseball for readers.

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My name was almost Meredith, apparently.

I learned this piece of information a couple of weeks ago via a family history I read for the first time.

Meredith … sounds like the kind of name that for a boy could lead to a great many playground disputes, which would almost certainly evolve into outright fisticuffs back when I was growing up.

Apparently my grandfather, for whom I am named, was aware of this. Sometime well before even the birth of my own father he changed his middle name to Madison. Not great, but much better playgroundwise.

Whew, that was close. And I truly had no idea at all. Family histories can be full of surprises.

And this Meredith thing wasn’t the only shocker. I also learned that my great-great grandfather once shot a guy.

That’s right, shot a guy.

Now this news never once came up at family gatherings, even though a portrait of him resides above the fireplace in the house where I was raised. I should have suspected, though, since he was a captain during the Civil War. In war, people get shot. That’s how it goes.

Only this incident was years after that.

Yet there it was, reported on Aug. 16, 1888 by a newspaper that no longer exists,  the Union Republican located in Winston — that’s Winston before the Salem became attached to it by hyphen. Under the heading “Shooting in Danbury” was this: “Last Wednesday evening Mr. Spot Taylor of the Taylor House had difficulty with a (man) who became offensive and refused to leave the premises when ordered away. … Spot drew a pistol and shot him twice, one ball taking affect in his knee and the other amputating a finger.”

This startling historic note about the man we only knew as “Capt. Spotswood B. Taylor” was collected by a cousin. Charles Rodenbough who is a historian by avocation and a good one. My great-aunt Grace was his stepmother. When my aunt Grace died, Charlie’s dad then married my widowed grandmother.

I asked my brother, who is named for the late captain, if he had ever heard about Spotswood B. shooting a guy. He had not.

“Did he kill him?” my brother asked.

“Nope,” I responded, “Spotswood B. was either a great shot, or a pretty lousy one.”

Up to now, most of my knowledge about family history came via stories told by my late father and grandmother. And there was a good bit of it to know.

I was aware, for example, that my ancestors were landowners, back in the days when that truly meant something. I knew that at one time Spotswood B. operated a hotel in Danbury (the previously mentioned Taylor House) and his son, J. Spot “Papa Spot” Taylor, with others in the family ran a resort near what’s now Hanging Rock State Park at a natural mineral spring, a hotel that later burned down and was never replaced. People came from miles around to sample the water’s curative effects and take in the mountain air. “Good for the stomach and for women’s illnesses,” the advertisements read.

I was also aware that many of my kinfolk were pretty accomplished. My great-aunt Grace was among the first women to serve in the N.C. General Assembly. My grandfather was elected to the state House for one term and my great-uncle John was sheriff of Stokes County 20 years. My great-uncle James Spotswood Taylor graduated from Johns Hopkins Medical School and was a leading pathologist in the nation before keeping a promise to his late wife to maintain the first health department in Stokes County.

My cousin’s compilation of history, though, gave me much more detail, that, or I hadn’t paid very good attention growing up. I wouldn’t discount the latter. It’s the kind of stuff that makes a kid’s eyes glaze over quicker than a trip to a store full of dusty antiques. But family histories seem to become more important as folks get older and begin to wonder what their own legacy might be.

I have some work to do.

My ancestors were leaders in politics, business, agriculture, medicine, faith and education — not one  ink-stained wretch among them on the Taylor side. My great-grandfather “Papa Spot” Taylor was recalled upon his death as the most popular citizen of Stokes County and at one time the third-largest grower of flue-cured tobacco in the world. His spouse, a woman I knew when she was in her 90s as “Mama Nellie,” was the daughter of famous Quaker evangelist Mary Pemberton Moon, for whom a room is named at Guilford College. She was a devout Quaker who arrived in North Carolina from Kansas by way of Indiana. And while she frowned on dancing at Piedmont Springs resort and her husband’s business in tobacco, she learned to live with it.

My great-aunt Grace, who I mentioned earlier, served as executive director for the National Red Cross before being elected to the state House seven times. She was an advocate for education and for involvement by women in government and business.

So yes, in the tricky matter of gauging family legacies, I reckon more recent Taylors have gone downhill a tad. Still, there’s probably time for me to make a mark. But it won’t be a simple thing. Call it a goal for the next few years.

So you know, I don’t plan on shooting anyone.

But please don’t call me Meredith.

A portrait of Spotswood B. Taylor rests above the fireplace in my mom’s house.