It's Hot in Montgomery

It was 97 degrees outside, maybe 98. In an era when most vehicles didn’t come with air even in the South, Miss Linnie didn’t know how hot it was in her car. Once she got to her new job it would be cool. A practical nurse, she was going to be taking care of two elderly women, aunts to the richest man in the Shoals. She wouldn’t have to worry if her check was good, and the ladies’ home should have enough amenities to make the job more than pleasant.

Once on the porch of the modest house, she found the front door open. Walking into the living room, she felt the stifling air and saw a box fan in the window. Surely Mr. D. had bought his aunts at least one air conditioner. After a chat about her duties, Miss Linnie had to ask.

“You ladies don’t have an air conditioner?”

“Oh, yes,” one replied. “We don’t turn it on unless it gets hot.”

*****

Gentle readers, it’s hot in Alabama. Oh, autumn may be one week away and the mornings may be cool, but in Montgomery the state treasury is so hot that it’s about to go up in flames in nine months. What happens then?

If a town or county can’t pay its bond debt, the federal government takes over, but what about a state? You say you don’t care because the wasteful legislature, along with some even more prodigal state agencies, got us into this fix. You’re certainly right about that, but what about the citizens who have worked hard? What about the elderly and handicapped who depend on the state? Should they suffer?

Perhaps even more important, if we don’t use the trust fund money now, what other emergency are we saving it for? It’s not going to get much hotter around here than it is right now. Vote "Yes" Tuesday.

For an opposing view, be sure to read: Vote No September 18th

Shoalanda