by Jackson Baker
Well, if you believe in Dickens and have faith in character by nomenclature, then you just have to take heart from the name of Shelby Countyās new commissioner: Morris Fair.
Especially when you consider that the genial Union Planters vice president was a genuine compromise candidate for Bill Gibbonsā old District 1 seat and that he got selected Monday only after the commissionās white Republicans and black Democrats had settled into one of their familiar lengthy impasses but before they could turn it into one of the patented end-of-the-world donnybrooks theyād indulged in twice already this year.
And when you consider further that Fair, a longtime county financial adviser who has lately been a governmental liaison (read "lobbyist") for his bank, is practiced in the arts of political ambiguity ÷ so much so that he was untouchable at first for the more partisan-minded of the Commissionās six voting Republicans, who wanted to fill the vacancy with a party regular on the order of Gibbons, who resigned recently to become District Attorney General.
"They obviously wanted a more party-line person. I knew I wouldnāt get their consensus support," Fair, whose Republicanism has been a fairly nominal matter, said afterward.
So it was that the rest of the GOP contingent, sans Sisson, stayed faithful through three rounds of voting for Glenda Jones, a bona fide party activist and wife of Criminal Court of Appeals Judge Joe Jones. Meanwhile, the six black Democrats either passed or voted for Fair (who has raised money for candidates of both parties ÷ one of his sins in the eyes of the Republican hard core).
If former firebrand chairman Julian Bolton had had his way, the Democrats would have showed up with a solid front, too. With six votes for Rod DeBerry, the three-time Republican congressional candidate whose praises county Republicans had been singing as recently as the first week of this month, when he took his latest licking in the 9th Congressional District from Democrat Harold Ford Jr.
That fact could have turned into a delicious irony if Bolton and commission mate Shep Wilbun, his partner in intrigue, had gotten full cooperation from the other four Democrats. But Michael Hooks, for one, was a hard sell. On the eve of voting, he had mused, "Iām not saying I wonāt go along, but I donāt want to play any tricks. I want to be fair." (Thereās that word again.)
And the scheme, which had party-line Democrats all over Shelby County salivating at the thought of the commissionās Republicans put Up Against It and having to explain why they couldnāt vote for a party mate, got precious little help from the putative beneficiary, DeBerry, whose main credential came down to the fact that he was both black and Republican. He and everybody else knew, of course, that the predominantly suburban constituencies of the commissionās Republicans were not exactly eager to see the body become majority black ÷ not after two racially based showdowns earlier this year over disparity in county contracting and the exclusion of city voters from prospective county school-board elections.
But DeBerry, to the disgruntlement of several onlooking Democrats, made only minimal efforts to evangelize among either Democrats or Republicans and deigned not even to show up at Mondayās election meeting, which was attended ÷ and addressed ÷ by every other even semi-serious candidate. "I probably would have voted for him if heād been here and asked me for my vote," acknowledged Democrat Walter Bailey, who kept passing as successive votes were taken.
Bolton kept passing, too (or saying "no vote"), but not before doing several grumbling variations on the theme that "we had the votes, we were in control, if we could only have stuck together." He had also availed himself, as had Wilbun, of the opportunity to interrogate the GOP candidates (including AutoZone attorney Don Rawlins, a fourth-round entry) on issues ranging from funding of schools to privatization of corrections institutions.
As if to accent the different drums he was hearing, Hooks objected to those extended rounds of questioning and later protested that he didnāt feel constituent pressure to vote a certain way and that anybody who didnāt like it "will have to meet me at the ballot box." That drew audible responses from the audience: "We will,"said one man. "You got that right!" said another. "Weāll remember," said a third.
But, for all that, Mondayās meeting never became the kind of "draw-down" that Sisson said he feared and that his man Fair, he hoped, might be the antidote to. As a voting stalemate held through the first several rounds Monday, Sisson himself almost gave up the ghost, switching his vote at one point to Jones.
But she never got more than six, and it took a late switch from Wilbun, Tommy Hart, and Clair VanderSchaaf to break the logjam in favor of Fair, who ÷ after having had to endure several hours of assorted maneuvering and suspense, responded with a broad toothy smile and whispered "Thank you." He would say later, "I was called dead and buried, but I got up and rose again."
Indeed he did, and so, maybe, did the prospects for renewed comity on the commission after a stormy year. New chairman Mark Norris has proposed what he calls a "balanced growth" plan, which in theory balances various concessions to urban needs with incentives for further suburban expansion. Bolton has countered with an "urban agenda" which calls for additional spending in the inner city (if not necessarily for more taxes).
"The lesser of evils," Bolton had called Fair when he finally got around to adding his vote to the new commissioner-electās total. (Only an abstention by Walter Bailey, who objected to Fairās membership in racially segregated Chickasaw Country Club, kept the vote short of acclamation.) Heās no evil, said Linda Rendtorff and various other commissioners, and Bolton felt compelled to say, "I wasnāt referring to his character, which is honorable, but to his philosophy."
As for that, Fair hopes to provide a middle way on the commission. "I think I was seen as an alternative to having lines drawn in the sand," he said Monday evening after a dinner out with his family to celebrate his birthday, which had occurred the week before but had got lost in the shuffle of his mini-campaign for the office.
It was thus a delayed gratification of sorts, the second, as it turned out, that Morris Fair had to experience on Monday.
Joyce Broffitt, who has been serving as a member of the District Attorney Generalās prosecutorial staff, was named by the commission ÷ with considerably less fuss ÷ to fill a vacant General Sessions Court judgeship. Loyce Lambert, a member of the Shelby County Public Defenderās staff, was her closest competitor.
Two events of more than usual political interest are on this Thursdayās social calendar. Former Criminal Court Judge/ Sheriff/ mayoral candidate Otis Higgs will be roasted by friends at The Peabody at 7 p.m., with Rufus Thomas serving as roastmaster. And Shelby Countyās elected officials will be guests at a reception of the Junior League, from 5:30 to 7 p.m. at League headquarters at Highland and Central.