They're tearing down a school to build a parking lot.
They're tearing down a hospital to build a parking lot.
They're tearing down a church to build a parking lot.
Whoa! They're tearing down a parking lot to build a parking lot!
The above lines may comprise an old joke, but apparently the City of Florence actually wants to tear down a country club, complete with 18 hole golf course, to add to its present landfill. The Florence Golf and Country Club was established in 1927 and comprises 157 acres of exquisitely developed property. Unfortunately, with the number of competing local golf courses and the present state of the economy, the Florence Country Club is no longer a money maker for its owners.
The current owners purchased the club in 2005, hoping to resurrect interest in the decades old institution; however, according to Norman Ross, the group is now faced with the necessity of selling the property, in all probability at a loss. Saturday, October 31st, was the last day for bids; so far nothing has been published on just who did or didn't make an offer.
Along with the City of Florence, the University of North Alabama also showed interest in adding the property to the western end of its campus, as did Lawrenceburg businessman William Keelon who thinks the large acreage would make an ideal setting for an assisted living facility.
Obviously, money talks in this situation where investors have little hope of recouping their investment. Let us also remember that garbage stinks; converting something as lovely as country club acreage into a refuse dump will hardly win the city any new fans or friends.
What's up with this: Lauderdale Deputy Ronnie Valentine, who recently accused fellow deputy Terry Woods of harassment, has now been accused of abusing his office and other civil rights violations. It will be interesting to see how Sheriff Ronnie Willis handles the situation.
Shoalanda 
Francisco Guerra and Bernard Konig have a lot in common. The two are dedicated family men, close to the same age, and epitomize the ethic of hard work. In the early part of this decade both men brought their ideas to northeast Lauderdale County and set up shop; this is where the similarity ends.
In early 2000, the small town of Lexington was still waiting for the sandwich shop the new sewer system was tauted to bring to the area. Bernard Konig, a native of the Southeast, looked around the town at the handful of empty buildings, and an idea was born.
After completely renovating a dilapidated business on Highway 64, Konig opened Bernardo's, a pizza and sub shop. The original restaurant boasted only four tables, but they were usually filled, and soon Konig opened a second location in Loretto, Tennessee. With both restaurants doing well, a friend suggested to Konig that his restaurants had franchise potential; the friend eventually opened his own Bernardo's in Elgin.
As autumn of 2001 approached, a customer pulled into the parking lot of Bernardo's in Lexington and found it vacant of cars. Inside, no customers sat at the tables, but two employees were there to tell the story of the day's events on that September 11th. Bernardo's never regained the business it had built up before the terrorist attacks, and soon all three locations were closed, victims of circumstances beyond Bernard Konig's control.
In January 2003, Francisco Guerra, a Cuban native and former stage magician, decided he needed a more economical location for his business Snow Masters. Hearing of the cheap land in Anderson and that the natives "work hard," Guerra moved from Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, and opened a new factory on Highway 64, just a few miles east of the old Bernardo's location.
Guerra has continued to expand his product line, adding "Flogos" and other novelties. Even in a time of recession, his business has boomed. An article in the November 1st TimesDaily featured Francisco Guerra's newest product and lauded the Latino immigrant for moving business from China to Northwest Alabama. The article went on to describe one worker who was soldering diodes for use with a snow machine. The name of the worker? Bernard Konig.
For every Francisco Guerra, we're sure there are ten who like Bernard Konig suffer business failure despite their best efforts. Our advice lies in the words of Winston Churchill: Never, never, never, never give up.
What's up with this: We're seeing quite a few signs in Colbert County for District Judge candidate Tim Milam--all red. Isn't blue the color of the Democratic Party?
Shoalanda
In 2008, LaWayne Harrison won his second term as mayor of the small Colbert County town of Leighton with 74% of the vote; however, the landslide victory came in spite of Harrison's record in office, not because of it.
In 2007, employees of the municipality filed an ethics complaint against Harrison. It seems he was selling, or at least attempting to sell, insurance out of his office in the Leighton town hall. At least one employee said he felt obligated to buy from Harrison in order to keep his job. After much rhetoric from Harrison and his attorney Billy Underwood, the Leighton mayor pleaded guilty and paid a $250.00 fine. At that time, a charge of using city funds to pay his wife Anne for volunteer work was dismissed. LaWayne Harrison was obviously a very lucky man--just not one who seems to learn from experience.
Shortly before his re-election, Harrison again created controversy when he failed to follow state bid law and ordered trash receptacles from a company with whom he had long time connections. No charges were filed in this incident, and Harrison once more accused his detractors of attempting to smear his reputation before the election.
The spring of 2009 saw more charges brought against the 72 year-old mayor when three women accused him of requesting sexual favors in lieu of rent (Sex & Lies in Leighton). Eventually all charges of criminal solicitation were dropped, but rumors abounded that Harrison's three accusers had been offered reasonably large sums of money to drop the charges.
Now, two more women have accused Mayor LaWayne Harrison of sexual impropriety, filing charges against him with the EEOC. Leighton employees Amber Watkins and Ariana Mullins say Harrison implied they owed their jobs to him, all the while fondling his crotch. Unless Harrison has an insect infestation in his nether regions, his actions are difficult to defend. Nonetheless, we expect Billy Underwood to again give it the old college try. We also expect the voters of Leighton to send Mayor LaWayne Harrison packing in 2012.
Reminder: Heart's Cry Thrift Store in Elgin is in the process of erecting its annual Angel Tree. Be sure to see Denise Melton to find out how you can help this year.
Shoalanda
The following Halloween tale is suitable for kids eight to 108. So, gather round, kiddies; the season is upon us. Let's not wait, let's get started...
Beans looked around the old vacant house and shuddered as the cool breeze flowing down the long hall touched his collar. The hall was wide and ended with a panelled, bolted door at the back of the house. He smiled too. When his family's home burned he wasn't sure where his mother and two brothers would go; now they had this fancy house. It wasn't just any fancy house either. It was old Judge Horton's caretaker's home and was draped in what a more sophisticated person would have called genteel shabbiness. He'd lost track of what young Mr. Horton was telling his mother.
"Here's all the keys...hmmm...I'll take this one. It's to the door in the back and you won't be needing that one. You and your family have complete access to all the rooms but that one." Young Mr. Horton, who didn't look so young to Beans, pointed toward the wide white door that had already captured the young boy's attention. At ten, Beans was four years younger than Straud and two years older than Pete. Beans always felt the necessity of telling folks his brother Homer, who would have been two years older, had died as a baby, but his mother had made him stop. It was too morbid, she said. Beans wasn't sure what morbid meant, but he always wondered if Homer was lurking somewhere above feeling very slighted by the omission.
Summer was rapidly fading, a fact that Beans didn't really mind, but the days grew shorter, and that meant an earlier supper and earlier bedtime. He liked the days when Mr. Horton came by to collect the rent or to inspect the locked room. These visits always disrupted his mother's meal preparations, thus prolonging the time he had to read by the fire. Sometimes all he had were almanacs or an old set of Palmer Cox's Brownie books, but he read them over and over until his mother called for him to lay the table.
One afternoon in early October, young Mr. Horton arrived with several parcels. Beans watched him slowly unlock the thick pine door and enter. Light from the front hall prevented him from seeing into the dark expanse, but it didn't seem to deter Mr. Horton. Only a few seconds passed before young Mr. Horton exited the forbidden room, now carrying only a small cardboard box covered with water stains. Beans and Pete thought they were well hidden behind the stairs, but Mr. Horton's keen eye had detected them.
"Hello, young chaps. Fine day, isn't it?" The two brothers were too astonished to speak, but managed to nod in agreement with young Mr Horton. "Oh, you two do remember that the back room is off limits, don't you?" Beans and Pete nodded again, this time swallowing as they did so. Mr. Horton donned his Homburg, tipped it once, and let himself out. The boys fell to the floor in unison.
"You know what that means, don't ya, Beans?"
Beans knew it wasn't good, but he wasn't as given to flights of fancy as his younger brother. "I'd say that means he doesn't want us in there."
Pete nodded his head vigorously, causing a small cowlick to jiggle atop his brown hair. "And he doesn't want us in there because there's a ghost. That's who he takes all those gifts to. He knows if we go in there without something to offer the ghost, that ol' haint will eat us."
Beans doubted the possibility of a ghost, but... just what was in the room young Mr. Horton had forbade the boys from entering? He couldn't ask his mother, but maybe Straud would know. His older brother was 14 and already a full time worker at the mill. Surely, Straud would at least have an idea.
"A ghost? Why, yes, that's exactly what's in there," Straud spoke in his most serious voice. "So, you better be careful, Beans. You don't want to be a spirit's dinner, now do you?" Beans looked suspiciously at his older brother. Straud could pretend well when the necessity arose, but was he guying him now? Beans decided the best thing to do was keep his own council until he had the mystery worked out.
It was three more weeks before Mr. Horton returned--late in the afternoon of All Hallow's Eve. Beans knew Straud had plans to take his girl Annie to a dance at Bethel School. He and Pete would probably go as well and raise some mischief--if they could talk their mother into letting them out of her sight on what some people still called Devil's Night. What would be Mr. Horton's plans for such an occasion? Did he need something from the locked room to ensure the success of his machinations?
Beans stood lost in thought as Mr. Horton passed him on the way out, gathering his coat and hat from the hall tree and exiting with a tip of his Homburg. This time...this time, something fell from the shallow side pocket of Mr. Horton's black wool topcoat. Beans looked at the brass object as if it were an archaeological find; it was the key to the room at the end of the hall.
He didn't hesitate, at least not after he picked up the ornate brass key. His mother had already lit the lamp by the stairs, a lamp that should shed enough light to give Beans a dim peek into the mysterious room. If there were ghosts, he'd just close the door and lock it back tight. No one would ever know he had chosen to disobey Mr. Horton.
The key turned easily in the lock, but the knob creaked with what sounded like a banshee's wail to Beans. If there were any ghosts in that room, they sure knew he was coming now. The door opened inward, slowly at first, then with something akin to a supernatural push. Beans sucked in his breath, managing not to whistle. His pupils grew large, and he saw them. Standing before him were Judge and Mrs. Horton, all dressed for a party, a Halloween gala Beans imagined. Young Mr. Horton had been visiting the ghosts of his parents for all these months. The boy felt dizzy.
As the adrenalin rushed into his system, his pupils opened even wider. He saw the Hortons were looking at him through two windows. No, not windows, but...picture frames. The stately pair he saw before him weren't spirits; they were three-quarter length oil paintings in gilt frames. Around the paintings stood all manner of empire furniture laden with china, silver, and crystal. Young Mr. Horton hadn't wanted anyone in this back room not because it was haunted, but because it was a trove of family treasures.
Beans literally backed out of the massive storage chamber and relocked the heavy pine door. He never ventured near the room again and...he never again believed in ghosts.
The above story is true. Young Mr. Horton went on to become famous as the judge in the Scottsboro Boys' trial. Thanks to a local author for her contribution to our Halloween fun.
Shoalanda
Several years ago a Huntsville businessman hanged a parking meter. Yes, he really did, and he did it as a symbol of his campaign against charging shoppers for parking in downtown Huntsville. One might have expected support for this businessman from various circles, if not the entire population of Huntsville. What did the man receive for his dramatic political statement? Everything from "tut-tuts" to threats of physical harm. It seems the noose has become the Southeast's equivalent of the Swastika.
As University of North Alabama football has come into its own, more downtown stores decorate with the purple and gold than the orange and black traditionally associated with the season. Halloween decorations are usually minimal, if they exist at all; but things were not always this way.
Many of us who grew up in the Shoals remember when the southeast corner of Court and Tuscaloosa Streets turned into "Hangman's Corner" every fall. No stuffed miscreants were ever abused, but the noose was always there, hanging down amid the colorful falling leaves and adding to the holiday spirit.
Legend decreed that there had been an actual lynching at the current site of the Wine Seller. Was there? We have no idea, and we seriously doubt that anyone who looked at the noose and smiled at the decoration placed any diabolical symbolism in it.
But, so it's gone, along with the practice of tipping outhouses from our grandparents' day and thousands of other traditions that have fallen by the wayside for whatever reason, either good, bad, of just simply not PC.
We wish everyone a safe and happy Halloween tomorrow; we have a special treat for you. Remember the Fire/Life Safety Day will be tomorrow at Lowe's in Florence. It will start at 9:00 a.m. and offer fun for the entire family.
Shoalanda
As we bring you this cautionary tale, we will immediately answer the question posed in today's topic; yes, Zachary Mullins, if guilty of the charges brought against him, is a sex offender and a fugitive from justice. Is the law under which he was indicted fair? Yes, as fair as such laws can be when arbitrary rules and regulations are enforced--that includes the 30 day ruling concerning the Alabama Putative Father Registry.
For those who may not be aware, second degree rape, termed statutory rape in some states, simply decrees that any sexual intercourse involving a person not yet old enough to give legal consent or too mentally impaired to give such consent, is second degree rape. In Alabama, the legal age of consent is 16, and the offender in the first scenario must be at least two years older than the victim. A man who has reached the age of 18 is definitely two years older than his 15 year-old victim.Mullins is the son of Michael A. and Angela R. Mullins of Garrison Road in Hartselle. He's a graduate of Danville High School and Auburn University. Currently, he's serving as a Second Lieutenant in the US Air Force at Vandenberg in California, where he lives with his wife Paulette, the daughter of Deborah Baker of Swansboro, Alabama. That is, he lived there with his wife until Alabama Attorney General Troy King had Mullins arrested earlier this week, after a Morgan County Grand Jury indicted him of multiple sex crimes. Specifically, the grand jury indicted the Air Force Officer on two counts of having sex with the 15 year-old while he was 18 years of age and one count involving a sexual encounter with the same victim after Mullins had attained the age of 19. Mullins is currently in a Santa Barbara County jail awaiting extradition.
Perhaps the most disturbing element in this indictment is the fact that Mullins was not the lone target of the grand jury. Jessica Heather DeFoor (pictured), now 34, a former second grade teacher from Decatur in Morgan County, was also indicted for related crimes. While AG King refuses to comment further on the connection between DeFoor and Mullins, DeFoor, who at the time taught at Neel Elementary School in Danville, is charged with enticing the young woman for immoral purposes. Sources who are familiar with the indictment have stated that DeFoor provided Mullins and an unnamed youth with access to a bedroom in her home and alcohol with which to seduce the young woman. If this can be proved, the charges against Mullins may be later upgraded to First Degree Rape.
Both DeFoor and Mullins were indicted in July. DeFoor was arrested in August, but authorities were not able to track Mullins down until this month. He was arrested October 20th, and King expects extradition proceedings to begin by the end of the week. Mullins faces a possible 20 year prison sentence. DeFoor faces a sentence of up to 10 years.
Thanks to the Alabama tenure system, Jessica Heather DeFoor, who has been on leave since the charges were first brought to the attention of the police in 2007, is still drawing a state salary.
What's up with this: If you find working toward what you want too hard, you might want to try selling blue plastic bracelets at Q-Gas. It sounds like a great fundraising idea for a school trip, but to support a child?
Shoalanda
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