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DawsonOpinion
WEDNESDAY, JULY 24, 2019
This is a page of opinion — ours, yours and
others. Signed columns and cartoons are the
opinions of the writers and artists, and they
may not reflect our views.
Gov. Kemp makes
long overdue changes
to board of regents
Gov. Brian Kemp has made some crack-
erjack appointments since taking office in
January, but none better than naming
Atlanta real estate executive Sam Holmes to
the Board of Regents, which oversees the
University System of Georgia.
Holmes comes from good stock. His dad,
businessman Paul Holmes, is one of the
most widely respected and best-liked souls
in the state. His momma is Susan Dykes
Holmes, former mayor of Monticello and
currently a state representative. Despite
their stellar cre
dentials, they
are what we in
the South call
good folks.
The governor
also appointed
Jose Perez of
Gwinnett
County to the
Regents, as well as reappointing Dean
Alford of Conyers.
Gone from the board is deep-pocketed
liquor baron Don Leebem, first appointed
to the Board of Regents by Gov. Zell Miller
in 1991 and subsequently reappointed by
the administrations of Roy Barnes, George
E. Perdue and Nathan Deal. Before leaving
office, Deal made a somewhat clumsy
attempt to reappoint Leebern for another
seven-year term, along with 63 other board
appointments. Oops! He found out there is
a new sheriff in town named Geoff Duncan.
Georgia law requires the state Senate to
approve a governor’s appointments to
boards, commissions and bureaus. That is
usually a mere formality. Not this time. Lt.
Gov. Duncan’s staff stated that Deal’s
appointments were not properly submitted.
Deal’s office sent his wish list to Duncan
on Jan. 14, the day the lieutenant governor
was sworn into office. Duncan attorney
Regina Quick ruled that the list wasn’t sub
mitted correctly because it was sent to the
lieutenant governor before he took the oath
of office. Instead, she wrote, the list should
have gone to the secretary of the state
Senate, the de facto leader of the Senate
before a presiding officer is sworn in.
Details, details.
Now, I am not privy to what goes on in
the rarified air level of governors and lieu
tenant governors, but I do have a theory. It
goes like this: Gov. Nathan Deal knew what
he was doing. He was giving the sleeves out
of his political vest by submitting Leebem’s
name — and the others — when and how
he did, and he likely knew what the out
come would be. But he could tell Leebem
that he had given it the ol’ college try and it
wasn’t his fault that the new crowd decided
to go all nit-picky on him.
You would think the Deal team had been
around long enough to know better than to
see his list of potential appointees subma
rined because of a mere technicality. Surely,
they would have checked all of this out
beforehand. That’s why God invented tele
phones.
Getting rid of Leebem has opened the
door to giving Vince Dooley, UGA’s Hall of
fame football coach the recognition that
has been long overdue. With Don Leebum
out of the picture, the Board of Regents
decided in their wisdom to designate the
field at Sanford Stadium as Dooley Lield.
(It is only a staggering coincidence that
Gov. Kemp is from Athens, a lifelong friend
of the Dooleys and roomed at UGA with
the coach’s son, David.)
I have been advocating this kind of recog
nition for Vince Dooley since 2003 to no
avail. The tag team of Leebum and former
UGA President Michael Adams was too for
midable. If Will Rogers said he never met a
man he didn’t like, it is obvious he never met
Mike Adams. I think even Mother Teresa
would have taken a pass on the guy.
There was room for only one ego at the
university in those days and it had to be
Adams’. He couldn’t stand to share the
spotlight with Vince Dooley, by now athlet
ic director. He was ably aided and abetted
by Don Leebem who had his own ax to
grind with Dooley, concerning in part
Leebem’s ongoing affair with former UGA
gymnastics coach and athletic department
employee Suzanne Yoculan, even though he
has never divorced his current wife.
And there were other ham-handed actions
like Leebem and Yoculan taking six mem
bers of the gymnastics team to New York on
his private jet shortly after their NCAA eli
gibility expired, a violation of NCAA mles.
Leebem also violated Board of Regents
policy by promoting wine with a trade-
marked UGA logo. Nobody has seemed
willing or able to stand up to the man until
now. Enter Brian Kemp.
Happily, a new broom sweeps clean and
Gov. Kemp has done just that with the
Board of Regents. It was long overdue.
May his future appointments be as good.
You can reach Dick Yarbrough atdick@dickyar-
brough.com; at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, GA
31139; online at dickyarbrough.com or on
Facebook at www.facebook.com/dickyarb.
DICKYARBROUGH
Columnist
Of course,
dear. Men always
leave tracks.
Did the astronauts
really leave tracks
^ on the moon?
Just like Mama used to say
As much as I hate to admit
it, Mama is usually right.
Especially when it comes to
her little pithy words of wis
dom.
I have always rolled my
eyes when she would tell me
not to try to argue with what
she calls ignorant people, a
harsh phrase for my usually
genteel mother.
But to Mama, someone
who is not listening to reason
or seeing any other perspec
tive is ignorant.
She actually uses another
word but that seems so harsh,
and very un-Mama like, I
can’t even bear to write it.
While Mama would never
call someone that to their
face, or even behind their
back, she would declare lack
of engaging in a true discus
sion to be stupid.
There are some people who
already have their minds
made up and no matter how
much proof, data, or evidence
we show them to the contrary,
they don’t want to hear any
thing that doesn’t support
their cognitive bias.
Mama preached for me to
always be respectful to oth
ers’ opinions and consider
that I may not know every
thing. something I have
always tried to do.
A lot of times, I seek to
understand, even if the person
and I share the same opinions,
just so I can have a full appre
ciation of why they think the
way they do.
When I have encountered
opportunities where the other
party was not wanting to have
an open discussion, I have
tried to heed Mama’s words
and not even tried to argue. It
SUDIE CROUCH
Columnist
can be hard though; I have an
argumentative streak in me a
country mile long at times.
Mama would tell me not to
even engage.
“Kitten, you can’t talk to
those kinds of people,” Mama
would say. “Just don’t. If they
want to say the sky is purple,
let them think the sky is pur
ple. You aren’t the troll whis
perer.”
Since I don’t have the time
to go fussing with people
about nonsense, I usually let
people win their one-sided
debates.
If they tell me the sky is
purple, I usually look up,
smile, and say, “And what a
lovely shade of purple it is!”
But Lord have mercy, there
are a lot of people that know
that they know the truth and
nothing but the truth about
absolutely everything, and all
that’s left is for the rest of us
to know it.
If we try to present any
thing different than what they
know that they know, they are
going to argue with us until
we are exhausted by their
claims.
Even, and perhaps especial
ly, when their argument is
erroneous and weak.
I found myself smack dab
in the middle of these very
types of situations just a few
weeks ago.
It was supposed to be a dif
ferent kind of gathering, one
where we were all supposed
to come together to work on
something better.
I soon found out I had been
misinformed.
It was a sneak attack in a
way.
I was trapped.
Facts were being presented
that were so beyond wrong,
they were almost laughable.
Anytime a rebuttal was
offered, it was dismissed with
five reasons why it was wrong
- even though they were facts
based in opinion.
I wanted to scream, cry, and
dissolve into the floor.
“What did you do?” she
asked when I relayed the inci
dent to her. “Did you just
politely excuse yourself and
leave?”
I sighed. Why does Mama
always think just saying, “Oh,
pardon me, I need to go.” cov
ers every opportunity to flee
the scene of an intellectual
crime.
“No.”
“Did you tell them why they
were wrong?”
“No.”
Was she forgetting her own
mantra and advice for the past
lifetime?
“Well, what did you do?”
she asked.
I sighed again.
Just telling her about it
made me exhausted all over
again.
“Would could I have
done?” I asked. “I was stuck
in a situation where the peo
ple I was sitting there with
had a totally different grasp
on the situation than I did. It
was clear they were not open
to change. They believed
what they wanted to and that
was that.”
What did I do?
I sat there and felt myself
shutting down and closing off.
It did not feel good; in fact, it
felt horrible.
I was surrounded by people
who was not seeing things the
way I did and had already
determined what we were
doing was wrong and a fail
ure.
I knew differently; I had
proof, evidence, and data.
They had opinions and the
emotional investment to hold
tight to their view, something
I had but I was outnumbered.
“Mama, I did the best thing
I could think of,” I said. “I
just sat there and took notes
and said I would see what I
could do.”
“So, you didn’t argue with
them?” she asked. “You didn’t
try to show them the facts
they were missing?”
I sighed again. “Mama, do
you remember that advice
you’ve always said, about
how you can’t talk to ignorant
people?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Well, I decided to give that
a try,” I said.
“Hmrph,” she mumbled,
quite pleased with herself.
This time, her advice was
right on the money.
Don’t no one tell her that
though, or I will never hear
the end of it.
Sudie Crouch is an award
winning humor columnist and
author of the recently e-pub-
lished novel, "The Dahlman
Files: A Tony Dahlman
Paranormal Mystery."
The blessing in life that was Cousin Lynn
When we were growing up,
my cousin, Lynn, and I were
weekend and summertime
warriors, fighting side-by-side
through childhood journeys
and teenage wonders.
We fought each other, once
in a while, both of us getting
mad, sulking until, finally,
one said something nice to
end it. Then, just that quick,
we were off on an adventure
through the back woods or
plotting how we were going
to get some boy to like us.
In the summers, we picked
blackberries, strung beans and
went swimming. In the fall, it
was high school football
games, pumpkin carving and
fall festivals. At Christmas,
we stomped through the
mountains, picking out cedar
Christmas trees, overseeing
the cutting of those trees and
dragging them back to the
buck. We decorated them
together and, every year,
almost without fail, she
played Elizabeth to my Mary
in the church pageant.
We are third cousins. In the
South, degrees matter. We are
very close third cousins
because my daddy and her
grandmother were double first
cousins. We both had brown
ish red hair and freckles scat-
RONDA RICH
Columnist
tered generously on our faces
so you could tell from
whence we cometh.
I remember the first time I
saw Lynn. I was seven and
she was eight. We went to a
tiny country church where
there were only a handful of
children. I was the only girl.
One Sunday morning, we
were settling down to begin
service when suddenly the
door opened and in walked a
cute girl with shoulder length
hair. All by herself. I was riv
eted. Another girl.
Impressively, this little girl, all
by herself, walked down the
aisle, her Bible tucked in the
bent of her arm and held her
head high. There was a look
of bold assurance in her eye.
Our church was so small
that our children’s Sunday
School class was held on the
back bench. Our teacher
stood in the row in front and
taught. On the day our
Sunday School attendance
went from six to seven, Lynn
sat beside me. It was the
beginning of many perfect
attendance awards for the
both of us.
This I will always remem
ber: She came to church for
months without her parents
because she insisted on com
ing. They would drop her off
but after a while, her mama
started to attend. Then her
daddy came. Once that hap
pened, the doors of that
church never opened without
all three of them being there.
This always calls to mind
the scripture: A child shall
lead them. She certainly did.
On a Saturday morning
during July revival, Lynn and
I were saved at the ages of 11
and 12 then baptized by my
daddy in the chilly waters of
an early September Sunday
morning. The framed Kodak
photo of that is one of my
favorites.
Our Friday and Saturday
nights were spent in
sleepovers and going to the
movies. Once, we stood in a
line that stretched two blocks
to see the movie, Jaws. I
guess that’s why big earning
movies are called “blockbust
ers.”
We remain close. We’ve
worked hard in our careers -
she is a scientist-tumed-exec-
utive - and we’ve helped to
keep each other grounded in
the values that grew us.
Interestingly, neither of us
had children which was never
a consideration in our teenage
years.
She called the other day. “I
got you on my mind. I wanted
to see how your new project
is going.”
I sighed. “Haven’t heard
anything.”
“You will,” she said reas
suringly. “The Lord just told
me to call you and give you a
word of encouragement.”
About two hours after our
call ended, good news came
on the project. I texted her.
“You’re not gonna believe
this...”
“I knew it was coming,”
she said confidently. “You
just needed to be encour
aged.”
All those years gone and
yet she’s still as bold and
assured as the day she first
walked in church and began
blessing my life.
Florida Rich is the best-selling
author of the new book, Let Me
Tell You Something. Visit www.
rondarich.com for herfree
weekly newsletter.
