Newspaper Page Text
Page 4A — Wednesday, December 9, 2020, The True Citizen
OPINIONS
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LOOKING BACK
{this week in Burke County history}
10 YEARS AGO-DECEMBER 8,2010
Charles Frank Strother of Wadley admitted to killing 19
dogs and dumping them in Burke County. He said he had
received permission from a Wadley police officer to kill
the dogs after they became vicious and a threat to humans.
Strother was only charged with dumping the bodies.
The bridge crossing Rocky Creek on Highway 56 South
was dedicated to the late Ray DeLaigle. DeLaigle had served
as a Burke County Commissioner for 20 years, most of that
time as chairman.
Large crowds attended public hearings held to discuss the
new lines which will carry additional power from Plant Vogtle.
A number of property owners expressed concern about the
route affecting farming and other activities.
25 YEARS AGO -DECEMBER 14,1995
Joseph Dolinsky, 81, for more than half a century a business
and civic leader in Burke County, died after a three-year bout
with leukemia. He was a merchant and furniture retailer here,
and it was through his efforts that the county attracted many
of its industries and related businesses.
The Burke County Commission acquired an option on 64.26
acres of land as a possible site for a satellite school of Augusta
Technical Institute. The site is located at the intersection of
Highway 24 and the Highway 25 bypass.
Waynesboro native Billy McTeer, a 20-year veteran of the
Georgia State Patrol, was named public information officer
of the Sylvania State Patrol Post.
50 YEARS AGO-DECEMBER 9,1970
Groundbreaking ceremonies were held for the new Piggly
Wiggly Store to be constructed. Store manager Ronnie Page
and meat market manager Harold Peterson wielded the
ceremonial shovels.
Ten wild fires claimed 72 acres of trees in the county in the
past three days, according to Burke County Ranger Charlie
Claxton. He said unusually dry conditions were presenting a
serious fire danger in the area.
Jesse (Jake) Rountree and M.K. Tucker were presented with
50-year membership aprons, certificates and pens at a meeting
of Waynesboro Masonic Lodge No. 274 F&AM.
75 YEARS AGO-DECEMBER 13,1945
C.L. Wallace was elected president of the Sardis Civic Club.
Other officers were vice-president Clyde Herndon, secretary
A.J. Herrington and treasurer W.H. Mills.
Local Oldsmobile dealer H.C. Joyner said he had a new
1946 model on display at Johnson’s Garage. It was equipped
with the new “Hydra-Mafic Drive.”
The Sardis 5 & 10c Store opened, offering a large line of
Christmas toys and holiday items.
A.J. Herrington, Jr., aviation metalsmith first class in the
U.S. Navy, was assigned as an instructor at the U.S. Naval
Academy at Annapolis.
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P.O. Box 948 • 629 Shadrack Street
Waynesboro, Georgia 30830
Telephone: (706) 554-2111 • Fax: (706) 526-4779
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NO SUCH THING AS FREE
BEN ROBERTS
benroberts@bellsouth.net
Congratulations, Burke
County taxpayers, you’re the
proud new owner of not one,
not two, but three pieces of
property in the quaint hamlet
of Gough.
Located just a few turns from
Highway 305, the three lots,
totaling just over a half-acre,
have the remains of a recently
burned 780-square foot home
and a second concrete block
structure perfect for storage or
maybe one of those mother-in-
law suites you read about in real
estate ads.
You might be wondering:
How is it that the good people
of Burke County came to ac
quire this small homestead?
The answer is simple: the
Burke County Commission
voted 5-0 to accept the property
as a donation in their Novem
ber meeting with virtually zero
questions asked.
If your next question is why
the Commission might have
done such a thing, well that’s a
bit more complicated to answer.
Burke County tax records
indicate the parcels were owned
by BMH Properties LLC. Ac
cording to Georgia Secretary
of State corporation records,
farm equipment dealer Phillip
Blanchard, of Blanchard Equip
ment Company is the registered
agent for BMH Properties.
As one Burke County resi
dent suggested to me, “I would
consider Phillip Blanchard a
pretty savvy business man. If he
wanted to just give me a piece
of property, the first question I’d
ask is: why?”
Apparently, that was a de
tail our commissioners didn’t
bother to consider, at least not
publicly anyway.
In fact, commissioners were
so excited to put this deal to
gether they did it twice. The
first two lots were originally
accepted back at the October
meeting - again with no discus
sion - but when the owner real
ized he had a good thing going,
he threw in the third lot, which
was accepted at the November
meeting along with the first
two again.
The deal appeared to be
spearheaded by Commissioner
Lucious Abrams, who made
both motions to accept owner
ship of the property. In what
passed as the commission’s
only explanation for taking the
property, Abrams suggested it
could be used for “recreation.”
I ’ m not sure what Mr. Abrams ’
definition of recreation is, but I
can tell you the two adjoining
parcels aren’t large enough for
a football or even a T-ball held.
It could hold a single basketball
court, but the county already
owns a small park a few blocks
away with just such a court and
some playground equipment.
The third lot, which sits across
Bothwell Avenue from the other
two, is just a bare patch of grass
measuring roughly 50-feet by
110-feet. It’s safe to say the
usefulness of the recreation
route is a long shot.
Well, at least this piece of
property isn’t costing us any
thing, right?
The fact of the matter is this
“donation” has already cost
Don Lively
LET'S ROCK
Mama had a saying that
she used on me when I would
propose something that she
deemed out of the question.
"You've got rocks in your
head."
American Indians have an
other saying.
"Only the rocks live forever."
That last one was quoted in
the classic mini-series, Centen
nial, so I actually don't know
if it's a true Indian idea or if it
came from the fertile imagina
tion of author James Michener,
who wrote the original novel.
Either way, there's a lot of
truth to it.
There was also plenty of truth
in Mama's statement, based on
my memories of some of the
things I did as a young South
ern lad.
"Mama, I'm going to jump off
of Brier Creek Bridge. Larry did
it and said it was fun!"
"You've got rocks in your
head!"
Mama was right, as usual.
I did indeed jump; went
straight to the bottom where I
cut my foot on some jagged,
nasty something.
Thankfully, it didn't get in
fected so I never told Mama.
Most people probably don't
spend a lot of time pondering
on the existence of rocks, but
there are people who do. You
can even major in rocks in col
lege. They call it Geology, but
make no mistake, it's mostly
about rocks.
Which brings us back to the
original point.
Rocks are forever.
Every kid who's ever been
near any body of water has
probably picked up a flat rock
and tried to "skip" it across
the top of the water. If done
correctly, a rock will bounce
along off the surface as far as
the velocity behind the throw
will take it. When it runs out
of energy, the rock sinks to the
bottom.
Remember when at the be
ginning of every episode of
Andy Griffith, his boy Opie
would pick up a rock and fling
it into the water?
Sure you do.
That rock is still there.
Every farmboy that I knew
growing up in the Blessed
South, at some point went out
in the woods and cut the perfect
forked stick, sliced a thin strip
of rubber from and old inner
tube, and attached it to the stick,
creating a perfect slingshot.
Then the hunt began for the
perfect projectiles with which
to stalk the birds and rabbits.
What did we use?
Rocks.
I'll admit that I never made
a single kill with my many
handmade slingshots, but I bred
thousands of rocks into the trees
and thickets.
Every one of those rocks is
more than likely exactly where
it landed, buried under decades
of forest floor.
When I was a junior col
lege student, still considering
teaching as a profession, I was
required to do a two month
"practice teaching", which
basically meant that I was a
built-in recess monitor for an
overworked real teacher. One
day I saw a young girl sprawled
in the middle of the playground,
and when I went to investigate,
I saw an egg sized knot in the
middle of her forehead. An un
known and never identified kid
had thrown a rock with amaz
ing accuracy, or pure luck, and
knocked the girl senseless. She
recovered quickly and had no
serious damage. The rock was
taxpayers. The deed to transfer
the properties was prepared by
the county attorney’s firm and
that crowd’s not working for
free. Then of course, there’s
the matter of that burned out
house and the other structures.
They’ll have to be torn down
and hauled off. Even if that
work is done by the county’s
Public Works Department,
it’ll be taxpayer equipment,
fuel and county employees
paid to do that job. Admittedly
the properties didn’t generate
much in taxes, but now they
won’t turn a single dime since
public property is tax exempt.
If nothing else, from now until
the next sucker comes along,
we’ll be responsible for cutting
the grass.
Em told at least one commis
sioner believes this site could
be a future location for a Dollar
General. Well, if the commis
sioners really believe that, I’ve
got some waterfront property
in the Munnerlyn district that’s
primed for development that I’d
like to show them.
never located, but do you know
what? It's probably still there
somewhere on that schoolyard
in Tifton, Georgia.
Daddy used to say that you
could put a stone arrowhead on
a shelf next to a thousand dollar
shotgun, and if the house where
the items were located burned
down, the shotgun would be
totally destroyed, but the arrow
head, a weapon thousands of
years old, would still be there,
exactly the same.
Only the rocks are forever.
Before he was King David,
shepherd David gathered up
five smooth stones to use as
weapons against a giant. As
it turned out, he only needed
one. Using his sling, he downed
Goliath with one swing. So
what happened to the other four
stones? For that matter, what
happened to the one that buried
itself in the giant's noggin?
Well, I'll tell you.
There's no record of them
being preserved. They're not in
some museum gathering dust.
They were probably simply
discarded after the defeat of the
Philistines.
But they still exist.
Somewhere.
Rocks are forever.