Newspaper Page Text
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THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 2004
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OPINION
Daniel F. Evans
President,
Editor and Publisher
Julie B. Evans Rex Gambill
Vice President Managing Editor
Foy S. Evans
Editor Emeritus
Good And Bad Of Eminent Domain
The law of eminent domain can be cruel.
Eminent domain can be used to condemn
property owned by individuals or corpora
tions for public good. The owner must be paid
“fair market value” for the property that is
given up.
It is a good law. It is needed. It can be mis
used. The results can be cruel. Often people
who lose their property come out on the short
end of the stick.
An example: A person owns a small home
appraised at SIOO,OOO. The government
- city, county or state - decides the property is
needed to satisfy government purposes. The
owner of the property has been living in the
house for many years, it is home and the
owner does not want to move. But he must.
The odds are that comparable, suitable hous
ing cannot be purchased for SIOO,OOO, so the
person who loses his home winds up in inferi
or housing where he does not want to live.
It is all legal. It happens all the time.
Currently, owners of property in Bibb
County are facing this situation. In order to
protect Robins Air Force Base, Bibb County
probably will condemn some of the homes in
a corridor north of the base, and homeowners
will be forced to move. The odds are they will
be unable to purchase comparable housing for
the amount of money they will receive for
their homes.
Perhaps this is necessary. But you have to
sympathize with the people who are affected.
Eminent domain can be misused, too. It is
happening all over the country. Cities and
counties are condemning property that is not
bringing in much tax revenue and then sell
ing the property to developers who build
expensive housing or shopping facilities that
will add significantly to the tax digest. It is
wrong, but they are getting away with it all
over the country.
Perhaps in all instances the governmental
body benefits. But it tugs at your heart to see
what happens to the people who happen go be
in the way.
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Tug-of-War anchor winning battle of bulge
Charles was a third-grader
in my class when I did my
student teaching almost 13
years ago. He was a good
natured kid and everyone
liked him. Charles was also
huge. He was as wide as he
was tall.
He quickly became one of
my favorites in my first-ever
class. Yes, I know that teach
ers are not supposed to have
favorites, but it happens.
The months rolled by
quickly, and before we knew
it, spring sunshine began to
thaw the playground. It was
time to start preparing for
Field Day.
I am competitive by
nature. I like to win. I am
not a fan of those that pro
claim, “Everyone is a win
ner!" In real life, everyone
does not win every time. For
me, Field Day was a chance
for my kids to have a blast
and to also learn valuable
lessons about winning and
losing.
Columnist
wrlteronatormGaol.com
Back to Charles - as soon
as preparations started, the
talk began about who would
be the favorite in the
always-exciting Tug-of-War.
Everyone, even teachers,
assumed my class would
take the blue ribbon because
of Charles’ sheer size and
strength.
Yes, the thought of
Charles anchoring for our
No reason to believe fortunetellers
THERE’S something
about 2 o’clock in the morn
ing. It seems to be especially
important to me.
I can remember time after
time when I have been
unable to remember a name
or phone number or where I
hid something and then
wake up at 2 in the morning
with the answer. It is as if I
my brain was a computer set
to go into action at that
unusual hour.
There are times when I
find myself awake at that
time and my mind wanders.
I solve problems that have
plagued me a long time. I
see a clear course to follow
to deal with a challenge that
lies ahead.
Often I awaken with the
idea for a column for this
newspaper. In my mind, as I
lie there waiting to fall
asleep, the column takes
shape, every word, every
paragraph. Sometimes I
wake up the next morning
and remember how the col
umn went and am able to
write it into my computer
Life's a beach and we all just got new bikinis
A few nights ago, while
watching television, a blurb
came on about the upcoming
Academy Awards.
Have you noticed some of
those folks are so put
together?
As I watched, I wondered
what I might do to capture
the sophisticated essence
that surrounds those
women.
Sleek hairdo? New make
up and clothes? More visits
to Atlanta to soak up some
of that big city attitude?
Later that evening, I
switched to a news channel.
It was not long before I
realized I may as well forget
developing a “city girl” aura.
That realization came
about the time I read a scroll
across the bottom of the
screen that a new subway is
coming to the Manhattan
area and my first thought
was “That is the sandwich
shop Rick likes so much!”
• • •
Making faux pas (or fox
paws as we laughingly say at
our house) - whether verbal,
physical or mental - just
comes naturally.
Rick would say his most
embarrassing moment
(caused by yours truly)
occurred during a football
game.
We were in the press
booth, he busy with play-by
play on the air and myself
slightly bored because I had
finished reading my USA
Today and then realized I
could not hear what was
going on about town (I will
not say which town) on my
police scanner because of all
the noise in the box.
Suddenly, something
apparently happened on the
field because the noise
increased by several deci
bels.
“Did you see who was car
rying the ball?!” a fellow
class brought a smile to my
face, but Tug-of-War is the
ultimate team competition.
No one person can win or
lose it for the entire class.
Everyone has to pull in one
direction, knees bent, teeth
clinched.
As I started sizing up all
the other third-grade class
es, I noticed that, excluding
Charles, our class was pretty
scrawny in comparison. Yet,
everyone had our class win
ning the Tug-of-War compe
tition.
Heck, word on the play
ground was, “Why even hold
the Tug-of-War event this
year?” Just go ahead and
give it to Mr. T’s class. Put
the blue ribbon in a mir
rored case and let Charles
hoist it above his head for all
to see.
On a sunny May day, the
school’s classrooms emptied
onto the playground for field
day. I can remember that by
Foy Evans
Columnist
foye vans 19@cox .net
verbatim. Sometimes I just
remember that I had writ
ten a column mentally and
could not remember what it
was about.
It seems strange that
these things occur at the
same time during the night.
Not at one o’clock. Not at
three. Just two o’clock. The
mental computer must be
tuned into that hour.
There may be an answer
to why it is that way. It real
ly doesn’t matter. For me,
Emily Johnstone
Associate Editor
ejohnstone@evanaiewspapeis.com
standing nearby asked me
urgently.
“Carrying it where?” I
wondered aloud as I peered
down to see what was going
on to cause so much excite
ment.
“Just do not ever again
f ...He says it‘s an \
( old family recipe! j
10 a.m. it was really, really
hot and humid.
By the time the Tug-of-
War competition started, the
playground felt more like a
furnace. My class lined up
and prepared to pull.
We won against the first
class, but it was a real strug
gle. Charles was dripping
with sweat and wearing a
huge smile - a million-dollar
smile on that chubby face.
We were in trouble from
the very start on the next
pull. Legs buckled and
cracked lips begin to trem
ble. Charles pulled with all
of his might and a river of
sweat poured off of him.
My kids finally succumbed
to the heat and overwhelm
ihg strength of the other
class. I immediately rushed
over and congratulated my
students on giving it their
very best. Most of them
seemed relieved that it was
over.
the important thing is that
these nocturnal moments
can bring me answers hid
den away deep in the sub
conscious and provide my
mind with the stimulus to
be creative while half asleep.
• • •
SOME people believe in
the occult. I don’t. This is
different. For most things I
believe there is a logical and
reasonable explanation.
Some people believe in for
tunetellers. I don’t. I don’t
believe that anyone can look
into the future and know
what is going to happen and
when. It is beyond human
capability.
Just as I refuse to accept
assurances from a stockbro
ker or anyone else that a
certain stock will go up. The
stock may go up. It may go
down. But no one knows for
sure what will happen.
I lived through the agony
of listening to “experts” who
told me how and what to
purchase some 30 years ago.
They almost broke me. I
learned that it is possible to
open your mouth at a
game,” Rick said over and
over as we drove home.
• • •
I have since learned what
that term means and show
off appropriately when we
are at a game nowadays.
I especially like to watch
hockey players carry their
pucks from goal to goal.
• • •
Of course, payback is no
fun and he gave that to me
during a ballet one holiday
season.
It was the “Nutcracker”
and Rick kept squirming in
his seat and asking (in his
radio voice - which equates
to loud) when someone
would be coming by to sell
peanuts and Coke.
After a while, I got him
interested in the program
When I got to Charles, his
big shoulders were heaving,
and sweat was now being
mixed with tears. Charles
was crying. He had heard all
of the talk that it was impos
sible for our class to lose
because we had him.
He felt he had let the class
down and there was nothing
I could do to console him. I
put my arms around him
and told him I was proud of
him.
I reminded him that this
was a team event and that
no one person can accept the
blame for victory or defeat.
It was heartbreaking.
Time has passed since
that day. I taught for eight
years and am now a princi
pal.
Today I went to the gym
and got on the Stair Stepper
in a hopeless effort to burn
off all the cookies I have
eaten in the last couple of
days. Beside me, on the
THE HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL
invest intelligently and con
servatively and make a liv
ing in the stock market. I
learned that people who tell
you they “know” certain
stocks will go up so they can
sell you those stocks will
break you if you let them.
The collapse of the stock
market a few years ago
when millions of people lost
their life savings was a
result of too much specula
tion and too many people
believing that someone actu
ally could read the stock
market tea leaves.
Good investment advisors
give you information you
need to make an intelligent
decision and they tell you up
front that nobody can pre
dict absolutely what any
stock will do on a short-term
basis.
You can make a mistake
listening to anyone who pre
tends to see what the future
holds. I, for one, am glad I
don’t know. I prefer to live
each day and savor the sur
prises I get by not knowing.
How about you?
and was hopeful he would
settle down and behave.
No such luck.
He read about the part
where the rat’s tail is pulled
and started asking if he had
missed that part.
Sometime during the bal
let when he was busy look
ing for the peanut man, he
missed it.
When we exited the build
ing into the cold night air, he
was still bemoaning the fact
he had missed the part
where the rat’s tail was
pulled.
I was thinking it would be
a cold day in a warm place
before I ever attended
another ballet with him in
tow.
“Just do not ever again
open your mouth at a cul
tural event,” I said over and
over as we drove home.
other Stair Stepper, was a
large, athletic-looking man.
“Hey, Mr. T, do you
remember me?” I looked
over and recognized the face
immediately - it was
Charles. I couldn’t believe it
- Charles was a man now.
And he had lost a lot of
weight. He looked amazing!
We talked briefly and it
sounded like he was doing
great. I didn’t last as long on
the Stair Stepper as he did. I
was panting and sweat was
all in my eyes.
Charles was still going. He
wasn’t even out of breath.
As I walked by our eyes met
and we exchanged a high
five. And I secretly hoped
that Charles knew that he
was an important part of my
past. And sweat mixed with
tears.
Steve Tesßeniar is princi
pal of Russell Elementary
School. His column appears
every Thursday.