3. A New Farm
An Advertising Salesperson’s Job
After sending an email to Mr. Franklin with the two articles and a brief cover note, Joseph thought about what the day would look like.
He needed to visit Don this morning, then what? Look for another advertiser?
But then he decided he better make sure he could help Don with an ad and get that squared away first.
He went to the stack of newspapers by the fireplace and pulled out the Sunday editions of the Montgomery Advertiser. There were half a dozen and he took them to the kitchen table.
He pulled out the Cheerios, added milk and sugar to the bowl, and sat down. He would find his inspiration in the pile before him. No need to reinvent the wheel!
He looked for the WII-FM’s as he looked through the different ads, making notes on a blank sheet of paper.
By 9:00, the few cheerios left were soggy blobs in the lukewarm milk. Time to go to work.
He folded his notepaper and put it in his pocket and replaced the papers.
His mom was getting ready for work at the Food Pantry. Another commute on his bicycle! He yelled a goodbye to his mom, waited for an acknowledgment, and headed out the backdoor for his bike.
The visit with Don went well with only a few customer interruptions. Don had done his homework, too. He had picked the size of the ad and the points that he wanted to make. They talked about some things to make the ad more customer oriented based on some of the notes Joseph had made that morning.
Don then gave Joseph a list of the things he wanted Joseph to put in the free article about Don’s Hardware.
By a few minutes after 11:00 it was a done deal. He just needed to write the article and submit it along with the ad design to Mr. Franklin. He or his wife would put them in the format to send to the printer.
Joseph stepped out of the air conditioned store into a river of humidity flowing beneath a shower of sharp sunlight. He could feel the rays burning invisible holes in his bare arms. The jeans that were comfortable on the bike ride here now encased his legs in a sauna. He did not look forward to the ride home.
Having turned off his phone for the meeting with Don, he switched it back on. One missed call and VoiceMail from “Claire.” That meant it was her home phone because her office number would show “Choctaloosa Realty.”
The message was an invitation to dinner at her house tonight. That’s tonight!
He clicked the link to her number and she answered, “Hello,” almost immediately.
“Claire, this is Joseph. I’d love to come to dinner tonight. Should I bring anything?” Good job of not saying, “Can I…!”
“No, just yourself. We might get some time to talk. I’ve been looking into things a little further. See you about 6:00?”
“Great, see you tonight.”
He put the phone back in his pocket. Not even on your bike yet and already you’re sweating!
He looked in his wallet and had several ones. There was a fair amount of loose change in his pocket. A sandwich, fries, drink and a tip would just about wipe him out.
But that’s what money is for, right? He walked into Dell’s.
As he adjusted to the light, he saw the place was just about full. A table for two behind where he had met with Claire was vacant, probably because it was next to the door used in and out of the kitchen to the tables. He took the seat facing the entrance, his back to the wall beside the swinging kitchen door.
Dell was helping Tina with waiting on the tables, but it was Tina who came to take his order.
“I’ll have the BLT, fries and a sweet tea,” he said without ever looking at the menu.
“Coming right up!” she smiled.
An Unexpected Interview
He watched the front door and the next couple who arrived took the last table. Seconds later, a man about his father’s age entered. Blinking for a moment, he looked around. No tables.
Joseph waved a hand and caught the man’s attention. Joseph pointed to the empty chair across from him. The man smiled and came over.
“Gil Templeton,” he said as he sat down, offering his hand. “Thanks for the seat.”
“Joseph Crispin, and you’re welcome,” he said as he shook the extended hand. “I just ordered a BLT. We’ll get Tina’s attention as she passes by.”
“BLT. Good choice.” He had started to look at the menu but put it back. “My office is next door,” he said, with a nod of his head toward the wall away from Don’s.
Joseph had seen the office but had never thought much about Equity Financial. In smaller print the sign on the window mentioned taxes, financial planning, and maybe something else. As he thought about it, there had never been a WII-FM, a “What’s In It For Me,” that he could see.
“The financial place?” asked Joseph to confirm.
“Yeah. I help people with their finances, income taxes, retirement plans and such. Sometimes it’s just helping them learn to balance a checkbook,” he smiled.
“So where are you in your life journey,” Gil asked, tactfully avoiding assumptions regarding schooling.
Joseph happened to catch Tina’s eye and raised his hand. Tina headed their way. “What can I getchya, Gil?” she asked.
“I’ll take the BLT, fries, and the usual Nehi orange, please.”
“You got it!” and she was gone to the next table.
“Sounds like you’re a regular here.”
“Most days I’ll have at least one meal here. Cooking for one seems a bit of overkill since they already have it done.” He smiled. “Besides, I can get my vegetables like Mom said I should.”
“Unless you’re doing the BLT and fries.”
Gil laughed. “Yeah, the lettuce and tomato with the bacon probably doesn’t count. I guess I’ll have to come back for dinner.”
“To answer your question, Gil, I’m just on the sidelines. I feel like I need to see more about how the game is played. Maybe I’ll get to play substitute in some positions and see what I like. Right now, I’ve just taken a job selling advertising for The Bee.”
“Yeah, good idea,” said Gil. His expression brightened a bit. “I usually glance through The Bee, but that article on the front page last week really caught my attention. Good stuff!”
What do you say to that, Ace Reporter? “Oh, uh, yeah, that was really something, being present for the birth of a baby in a car! What an experience THAT must have been!”
Gil nodded. “So, how’s the sales job going?”
“Well, I just started this week, but I have gotten one new advertiser.”
“That’s great! So how do you do it, make a sale, I mean?”
“Everybody listens to WII-FM, so I try to help them see ‘What’s In It For Me.’”
“That’s classic business school technique, but I take it you haven’t been to B school yet.”
Joseph started to agree that he hadn’t, but then a different thought occurred to him. “I don’t know what business school is like, but I feel like that is where I am now.”
“Ah, the school of life, right. Probably the best teacher, because once you get out of B school, you still have to learn how it works in the real world.”
Tina’s timing was perfect, bringing out their drinks.
“Just a couple of minutes on your orders, guys,” and she was gone again. The room was full with people waiting for tables although Joseph had tuned out the din from conversations.
“I’ve seen that you have a business card kind of ad. Is that working well for you?”
“Now that we’re talking about it, we might focus it on the people I really want to help. It’s the young ones getting started who have not really had the training to know how to handle their new found freedom. They get a paycheck but don’t really know how best to use it. That’s what brought me into this business, helping people navigate through the financial part of life.”
“What was it that brought you here to New Deal and Choctaloosa County? You definitely don’t sound like you’re from around here.”
Gil smiled. “How long does it take to get that distinctive local accent? Well, maybe that’ll come,” he shrugged.
“The short answer to your question is that I was a rat in the race and the climate was cold, ‘til I found a place where I could be a guy in the sunshine out for a stroll. Hey, did that sound like lyrics to a country song? Anyway, here I am!”
“That’s cool. And yeah, you have potential if you can handle a guitar.” They both could laugh at that.
And with that, Tina delivered two BLT’s with fries. Ketchup was on the table. There was a moment’s silence as they started on their meals. Life was good!
“It sounds like you have a lot of helpful advice to offer us young adults. I’m learning that there’s a lot I don’t even know that I don’t know.” Experiences and thoughts from the last 10 days passed through Joseph’s mind like lightning flashes. One of them escaped through his mouth without warning.
“What about the folks at Eagles Nest. Seems like they’re the ones with money.”
The smile disappeared pretty quickly from Gil’s face.
“That’s what I was trying to leave behind.”
Gil loaded a French fry with ketchup and took a bite.
“You know,” he said as he wiped the ketchup off his fingers, “I never have noticed any articles in The Bee about what’s going on at Eagles Nest or what will become of that large stretch of land across the highway from it. Of course, I haven’t seen anything in the bigger newspapers I follow, either, but what is happening up there is going to affect the character of this county dramatically.”
The French fry stuck in Joseph’s throat. He had to take a sip of tea to get it down.
“It’s just a gated community, isn’t it? Is that a big deal?”
“The gated community is on the west side of the highway. The lots are nearly a mile away and very much out of sight of the highway, if you noticed. As more people move in, they will expect more of the amenities – that is, stores, amusements, roads, etc. – to which they are accustomed.
“It’s the land on the east side and how it will be used that may be more significant. Are you familiar with solar energy farms?”
Images of arrays of solar panels covering vast acres of fields in the southwest, the inhospitable landscape looking something like that on a lunar landing, passed through Joseph’s mind.
“You mean acres and acres of solar panels covering the ground up there?”
Peripheral images of giant transmission towers came to mind. Monsters of steel reaching up to maybe 150 feet high with arms outstretched 100 feet wide, would litter the landscape, adding to the alien nature of such a project.
Gil allowed the pictures to develop in Joseph’s mind as he took another couple of bites of his BLT. Joseph’s mouth was immobilized as the few words that Gil had spoken redirected all his energy to the newsreel running in front of him.
“Yeah. I can see you are getting the picture, and it’s not pretty.”
“But why here? We don’t have landscapes like in Arizona, and we don’t have the amount of sun that they do.”
“You are right on both counts, Joseph. But if you look at a map of the eastern half of the country wanting to find a place to have large solar panel farms, Choctaloosa County has exactly what you want.”
Gil started counting on his fingers.
“This county is one of many that measure near maximum for sunlight hours per year, at least in the eastern half of the country...”
Second finger: “And it’s close to high population areas like the I-75 corridor through Atlanta and on down through Florida…”
Third finger (which seemed to send a message to the people who did live near the solar farm): “but not with high population in the proximity of the farm…”
Fourth finger: “With no negative environmental impact concerning endangered species…”
Fifth finger, actually the thumb: “And the power company buying that solar panel gets to show an offset against its power production, which will continue producing and polluting at the same level.”
He brought up the first finger of the other hand, “Even though government subsidies for the large scale farms are drying up, it’s great for public relations. The media love it.”
He lowered his hands. “And then, my friend, you find that Choctaloosa County is the perfect location to be sacrificed to progress. Like a third world country exporting its natural wealth to the developed world, we'll be exporting power to the national grid.”
Joseph was stunned, and he was still on the third finger!
“Why doesn’t anybody know about this?”
“It’s still in the planning stages – getting bankers and politicians behind it is a more accurate description. By the time it comes out for public comment, it will be too late. Bankers and politicians have already committed to the idea of it. They’re just looking for a place for it to happen.”
He continued after a brief pause. “The project will steam roll over any opposition without a problem thanks to the corporate nature of mainstream media. They are owned by the same people who will benefit financially from solar.”
“Wait! Wait! Isn’t solar good?” asked Joseph, shaking his head. “Won’t everybody be better off? And will it really be so bad for the county? Won’t that mean more jobs, more revenue, and all that good stuff?”
“Depends on what you call ‘good stuff,’” replied Gil. “It’s not like this will become another Atlanta, but look at all the people moving in for the construction phase. Then the full time workers for a 7-24 power generation station, maybe 50 to 100 families, will move here. All this along with the growing gated community.
“The highway will become at least a four lane to get from all the expensive new homes to shops and restaurants, bars, and fast food. Blue Tail, New Deal, and Corn Maize will become strip malls and shopping centers. Throw in a country club or two, maybe a small airport nearby, and who knows what else?
“And then there are the towers marching east toward Atlanta or south toward Florida, or both.” Gil nodded. “I can see you are getting the picture.”
Joseph was flabbergasted, but a suspicious thought leapt from his mouth. “How do you know all this when nobody else does?”
“Good question. So you have the mind of a reporter and not just an advertising salesman,” Gil stated.
“It’s a long story.” He took his last bite of sandwich and pushed the plate away, a few fries lingering near a smear of ketchup.
“You want a dessert or some more tea? Do you even have the time?”
Mentally going back through his financial resources – the one dollar bills and the change in his pocket – Joseph opted for a free tea refill. Gil got another Nehi when he caught Tina’s attention.
Continuing his story, “I have a friend who is the General Manager up at The Community. We were in B school together and were pretty good friends. He came down here about ten years ago to run the marketing campaign that The Community was using to attract wealthy visitors. He liked it and stayed on, which I thought was crazy at the time.
“And he has done a good job, maybe too good a job. The Community has become a Destination for a clique of the high powered one percenters. You know, the one percent of the people that have way over 90% of all the money.
“Anyway, we had lunch yesterday. Now can I get your assurance that nothing about me or him will get into The Bee or any other paper? I don’t want him to get into trouble, and it would be serious legal trouble for him.”
Remember about “Deep Throat,” Mr. Bernstein? Yeah, we can keep our sources confidential.
“Sure. Keeping sources confidential is key to a reporter’s success and guaranteed by the…First Amendment, right?”
“Right! First, it is important to mention that a wealthy banker who had visited The Community saw an opportunity to bring wealthy clients here to experience nature in this rural setting. His company would bring clients here for meetings.
“He sold this idea to my friend, who sold the idea to the leadership of The Community on the idea of a partnership. The goals for The Destination were two-fold.
"The benefit for The Community, besides income, was that they would educate the big money people on the value of nature. They would be educating the influencers of the culture on the beauty and value of a more natural lifestyle.
"At the same time, the financial backer would be selling them on making investments on ventures that he favored. The fact that the visitors were enjoying themselves in a remote location without other business distractions was an advantageous setting.
"He invested in some of the infrastructure needed and The Community provided the needed services. Those workers were compensated, bringing money in. It was a win-win for him and The Community.
“The Community suddenly had all these wealthy guests. Their idea was to show them the good side of nature, the value of a simpler lifestyle, perhaps even to soften that capitalistic spirit of conquering everything while instilling a respect for nature and the environment. It was to be a haven where they could relax and see life differently.
"So The Community was bringing through all these wealthy guests. The idea was to show them the good side of nature, the value of a simpler lifestyle, perhaps even to soften that capitalistic spirit of conquering everything while instilling a respect for nature and the environment. It was to be a haven where they could relax and see life differently.
“When a few of these high powered people approached them about buying the unused land along the southwestern corner of The Community, a little over 200 acres, the council that runs The Community were a little apprehensive. They were assured it would be a residential community that would not impact the ecology.
“The council finally agreed and the sale went through.
“What the council didn’t know was that the same people were buying another 300 acres below the southeastern corner. This is where the solar farm will go.
“So now there are these huge developments, 500 acres right up next to The Community, and they represent everything that is the direct opposite of their principles. My friend is very upset about how they have been manipulated into betraying the ideals for which they stand.”
"But isn’t solar power good for the environment? Isn’t that something we all want?” Joseph was perplexed.
“There are a lot of arguments against solar at this time: intermittent, availability, expensive storage, requirements for rare minerals, cost, primary sources are in China, etc. Solar can play a role in reducing climate change, but in the long term we are going to have to find less energy intensive technologies for things like heating and cooling and transportation.
“We also need to reduce high energy requirements for manufacturing products, such as plastic, which requires petroleum but then never degrades. More and cheaper power does not necessarily equate to a more viable earth.”
“Won’t the people buying these expensive homes be upset by this solar panel farm and all it entails?” asked Joseph.
“Part of the deal is that they get cheap power rates directly from the solar panel farm. All the other electricity customers get the higher prices for the mix of solar, coal, and nuclear generated power.
"The contract for the Eagles Nest land included a stipulation that it would be a green development with a small carbon footprint.
"The Community did not know about the solar panel farm. Eagles Nest can use the solar power for all its energy needs, thus qualifying as a green development. There is no limitation on what their energy uses or what they do with the land other than it being residential with parks or other green spaces. That can now include golf courses, polo grounds, and a host of other things not envisioned when the contract was signed.
“And they will have 5G telecommunications. That sounds great – 1000 times as much data. But it also will require 1000 times more power to run it. Think about that for a moment.”
He paused to let Joseph absorb what he had just said. “We are increasing power consumption faster than we can provide alternative sources.
“And the solar farm is across the highway at a slightly lower level. Out of sight, out of mind for Eagles Nest.
“And there is a guarantee of no transmission towers on their side of the highway.”
Hasn’t everyone praised growth as the goal of everybody, every organization, every geographic sector?
“From the county's point of view, Isn’t it all about growth?”
“What do you want this county to look like in five years?”
Joseph thought of what it was like now, and what it would be like after all those people moved here. It was not a comfortable comparison. Over those five years the changes would just creep in slowly. One morning you would wake up and everything had changed, and not all for the better.
“So why would anybody want to come way out here, and then go to the trouble to bring everything they left behind with them?”
Gil did not respond, just looking at Joseph with an expression that did not engender hope. He finally answered, “It seems to me that even though they will be in Choctaloosa County, Choctaloosa County will not be in them.”
Joseph nodded, but only in agreement with the last statement. Everything else was too much too quickly.
Are you an ace reporter, or are you just one of the faceless people in the crowd, gaping at whatever news event is playing out in front of them?
“You’ve thought about this for a day, Gil. What can we do?”
“We are in a bind. The truth will set us free, but if we tell the truth, my friend is breaking a legally binding confidentiality agreement. Even if we spoke this truth, the power of the people backing this, including their bankers, politicians, and media cronies, would quickly crush us. My friend has been thinking about that question a lot, believe me!
”And I spent the morning reading the documents he could provide, looking for a loophole, something, anything, and could not find one.”
Gil took a deep breath. “So, you’re the first person I’ve run into that I could talk about this.” He laughed. “Sorry to dump on you, but there it is, in a smelly pile.”
“Surely there is something that can be done,” is what Joseph said, but his mind was saying, “And why do you think there has to be a solution?”
Gil got up. “I hate to dump and run, but I have a client due shortly.” He stuck out his hand. “Just between us, right?”
Joseph shook his hand. “Right.”
“See you around, especially if you come here,” Gil smiled. “We can talk more about what is really happening right under our noses. And maybe even talk about a better ad.” He turned and went to the register after leaving a generous tip on the table.
Joseph counted out his ones and the exact change for his meal. The rest was an acceptable amount for a tip.
The Ace Reporter left the interview room with his pockets turned inside out. He wondered when he might ever be able to buy a cream pie again.
A Reporter’s Duty By now it was a little after 1:00. The sun was almost straight overhead. The ride home would be short but hot. At least you’re not walking!
The house was empty when he got home. The cool felt good and a glass of plain ice water sounded right. He got a glass, filled it with ice and then water, and went to his office. His phone rang just as he entered,
Claire Jacobs showed on the screen. Her work phone. He answered.
“Hey, Joseph, A client wants to see property at 6:00 tonight. I’m sorry, but could we have you over tomorrow?”
The “we” sounds like a thawing of the mother’s protective barrier!
“Sure, Claire. See you at 6:00 tomorrow then.”
“Great!” She gave out a deep sigh. He could see her shaking her head. “This is one of those bankers. He’s probably driving here but it wouldn’t surprise me to see a helicopter arrive at Eagles Nest.”
Catching her before she said goodbye, he quickly asked, “Do you know who is buying all of that land on the east side of the highway, across from Eagles Nest?”
“Yes. Why?”
He felt a little devious, but it wasn’t going to be a lie. “Is it the same people who are selling the land in Eagles Nest?”
There was a long pause before she answered. “Yes, that is public information, although maybe hard to find for the average person. But anybody with a real estate license could access the records easily.”
“Thank you, Claire. See you tomorrow.”
“Yes, see you tomorrow.” She did not hang up immediately, as if waiting for an explanation, but Joseph figured that was enough for now.
One door closes, another one opens…hopefully.
The reporter’s hat called out to him, but he knew he must write the article to go along with Don’s ad and send them both to Mr. Franklin.
And so he took the notes that Don had given him and converted them into something resembling a news story. Everything was very objective and in the style of news reporting, just the facts.
By 4:00 he had written the article, scanned the sketch of the ad into his computer, and was emailing both to Mr. Franklin.
Only then could he put on his reporter’s hat (actually a Choctaloosa Panthers cap) and think about what he had learned at lunch.
He couldn’t really talk about the confidential stuff with his parents. That would be breaking his word. It would also put them in the bind of knowing and not being able to tell anyone or do anything.
How much did Claire know? Surely she was unaware of the solar panel farm. If the transmission lines go south, their footprint might squish her house! And what additional information could she provide that could turn things around? At most, she would only have the same confidential information that Gil’s friend at The Community had shown to Gil. And she would be bound by confidentiality, also.
He could at least see what Mr. Franklin knew about Eagles Nest. And why didn’t he have more info about it in The Bee.
An internet search for “Eagles Nest Choctaloosa County” had only a handful of hits. One was a very short article in the business section of an Atlanta newspaper. The Zillow website showed lots for sale with prices, and the sales of four lots in Eagles Nest, all in 2021, but did not show the prices.
Joseph texted Mr. Franklin: “Can we talk about Eagles Nest when it is convenient for you?”
He had only a couple of minutes to wait for the reply: “Tomorrow at 9:00 will be good.”
Joseph sent back, “I’ll be there.”
It was too late to go anywhere, so Joseph just looked at the internet some more concerning Community Valley and a map of the area where the solar panel farm would be.
Maybe he could see Gil after talking with Mr. Franklin tomorrow. He dialed the free directory assistance number and got the office number for Equity Financial in New Deal.
He called and Gil answered in a solid professional voice, “Equity Financial. Gil Templeton. How may I help you?”
“This is Joseph Crispin. I’m really interested in what’s going on up there near Community Valley. Could we talk tomorrow?”
“Sure. Let me see. The morning is full and I was thinking of going up to visit a friend in Community Valley in the middle of the afternoon. You want to ride up there with me?”
“That would be great. You going to see your friend, the General Manager?”
Gil laughed. “No, I have found another friend up there. I’m bringing her down here for the evening, so there will be three on the ride back.”
“You sure I won’t be in the way?”
“Not at all. Come about 3:00 and we’ll be back before 6:00.”
Ace reporter stymied by lack of transportation!
“Uh, I’m not sure I can make it. I won’t have a car tomorrow, and have to ride my bike, I have to be back in New Deal at 6:00 for dinner with some friends and then get home in the dark on a bike on the highway and…”
Gil interrupted. Give me your address and I’ll pick you up at 2:45 and get you back home before 5:30. Will you have a way to get to your dinner?”
“Yes. A car will be available for me by then. Thanks for coming to get me.” And he gave his address and hung up.
Ever think about getting an appointment book? Not until now!
Checking a couple of social media sites for messages and news took him to dinner time.
Wednesday morning, his mother left before 9:00 for her visit with a friend and their trip to Montgomery.
Another morning on the 2-wheeler!
Joseph took off on his bike just after his mother had left. A few minutes later, he leaned his bike against the offices of The Bee, Mr. Franklin’s converted garage.
Inside, the editor was at his computer. Any photo of Barney Franklin would have to be in this pose. Come to think of it, Joseph wondered how much the man ever moved at all.
“Interesting articles you sent this morning, Joseph. Perhaps the theme of this week’s paper should be scarecrows. Had any more ideas?”
Joseph had completed the articles on the scarecrow yesterday. They were ancient history, it seemed. He had moved on to Eagles Nest and really did not want to look back. He was on his one track, and the scarecrow was now on an old track.
Captain, is the light always forward? Yes, Mr. Sulu. Value what is behind, but remember: it is behind and there is no going back. Keep the light in front of you.
“No, sir. Nothing new on scarecrows. I was curious about Eagles Nest and The Community and whatever is happening up there.”
Mr. Franklin turned to give his full attention to Joseph, his forehead projecting waves of wrinkles in puzzlement at the abrupt change of subject.
“What is so important about Eagles Nest?”
Joseph could not tell if it was a newsman’s instinct or simple curiosity that prompted the question, but he realized he had come on too strongly. He should not overplay his hand. Note: Learn more about how to play poker.
“I just saw the ads for the lots. When I compared pricing with homes in the area, they looked ridiculously high.”
“You’re probably not familiar with gated communities, are you, Joseph.” The statement sounded like the wisdom of the sage imparted to the unknowing youth.
Joseph could only move forward. “I just thought you would know why the most remote part of Choctaloosa County would be a good place for a gated community. It seems like there must be some catch.”
A Great Thought occurred to Joseph as a response. “You taught me about WII-FM. What is in it for them?”
Mr. Franklin was clearly relieved to be back in charge, showing the path to enlightenment as he leaned back in his chair with his hands folded across his belly.
“You’ve answered your own question, haven’t you? Gated communities in the cities provide beautiful surroundings and security in the midst of luxury. Why not find the same in nature, a retreat from the busyness?”
Joseph could see he was not going to get anywhere, but something (a reporter’s persistence) pushed him forward.
“Is that the story then: Who is buying and why, getting the perspective of the people buying those lots?” (There you go, Mr. Woodward. You’re back!)
He felt like he was on a roll. “And who is it that is selling those lots?
“And what else do they own?
“And how does this fit with The Community? They seem like very unlikely neighbors.”
Mr. Franklin now leaned forward, his eyes and words fixed squarely on Joseph.
“The real estate company is continuously placing ads, so there is not a customer here for you, Joseph. You did well on Don’s Hardware. The ad and the article will be in the next edition. Will you go and find some more like Don’s? Eagles Nest and The Community are not going to be providing you with any sales commissions.”
The dismissal of everything that mattered to Joseph at this moment in time was an unexpected blow. Why didn’t the editor of the only newspaper in the county see the potential here for a big story?
Mr. Franklin continued. “And I liked the idea for a scarecrow competition. That was a good idea.
“Tell you what I am going to do. The commission for Don’s ad will be paid the week after it is printed, as we agreed. But,” he said reaching into his bottom drawer and pulling out a cash box, “I believe I ought to reward you for last week’s article on delivering the baby, and this week’s article on the scarecrow.”
He counted out $50 from the cash box and handed it to Joseph.
“Those articles weren’t really part of the deal, but you wrote well and I know people liked the first one. I think they’ll like what’s in the next edition. This is appreciation for what you have done.”
Mr. Franklin stretched out his hand holding the cash as he continued.
“But I’m not guaranteeing anything for future articles except the ones that you write to go with an advertiser’s first ad. Advertising is your focus, Joseph. That’s where the money will be for you.”
Did Woodward and Bernstein ever accept money and agree NOT to report? Did Walter Cronkite just turn his back on a story because it was time for a TV commercial? It’s about your character, Joseph! It’s about what a reporter does: report the news that affects the community.
As he accepted the money, Joseph replied, “Thanks for the advice and the money, Mr. Franklin.”
The reporter often has to do his own work, keeping his newspaper in the dark to protect them from liability while he pursues the investigation on his personal time.
“Guess I’ll just go see who our next new advertiser will be. Have a good day, Mr. Franklin.”
He offered his hand. The old editor accepted it, knowing he had kept his new employee focused on the correct path.
Not yet 9:30. He texted Kevin about doing something. Kevin replied not today, he had an interview at Auburn about a part time job while at college.
So, a snack and maybe learn something on the internet about solar power….
And so Joseph spent from 10:00 until after 1:00 going down one rabbit hole after another as his research broadened into climate change and what to do (if anything) about it. The amount of information by various types of experts on both sides of almost every issue made the attempt at understanding seem almost futile.
While having a sandwich, chips, and a cold drink, he made a list of some of the elements that seemed legitimate concern:
He decided to check out the Equity Financial website before Gil arrived.
The site was very professional. The pages were clean, not a lot of excess wording cluttering the page. There was a slide show, pictures on each slide along with bullet points on services, and a satisfied customer quotation.
The first was “Gilbert Templeton, My friends call me ‘Gil,’” at his desk with an open collar and a sports jacket welcoming the viewer.
Next slide was Gil sitting at a dining room table, a young couple’s gaze following his finger to a laptop screen.
Then Gil looking up at a man on a tractor (don’t you love that John Deere green!).
There were several more, and finally a picture with a farmhouse in front, part of a barn to one side and a corn crop on the other side. “Home is where the heart is,” were the only words on the screen.
Very nice!
The Community’s Viewpoint
He changed into a clean shirt and jeans and went out to the front porch. He had to wait only a minute for Gil to drive up in a white Jeep Cherokee.
Gil was in slacks and a polo shirt with, yes, a John Deere cap.
Joseph climbed in the front and they headed north to The Community.
“You have a girlfriend up here, right?” Joseph asked.
“Yeah. She’s a teacher. She also happens to be the sister of the GM’s wife. We see each other several times a week. Been doing this maybe six months or so. She wants to stay near the school at The Community, and I would rather find a house that was more in the open. The atmosphere just seems a bit close there, like living in a countrified city.
“Aren’t you living in a countrified city now?” the observer in Joseph’s mind asked quietly. Joseph let it pass.
“What about you, Joseph? Is there a love interest in your life?”
Another one of those questions people ask when they want to know what you’re going to do with your life. Well, here goes.
“I was going with Ginny – Virginia – most of senior year. She has a full scholarship to Emory and will be pre-med. So she’ll be in Atlanta, and I wasn’t ready to commit to college, probably wouldn’t have been out of state anyway. It just didn’t seem like it was going to work out so we broke it off a couple of months ago.”
“Sorry to hear about that. Sounds like you two were not really headed the same direction.”
“Yeah, that’s true. And I can’t say I was that broken up about it. It just leaves a bit of a hole though, you know?”
Gil laughed. “Yeah, I know. I hope you don’t experience marriage and then the breakup.”
“Not likely any time soon…seems like everybody is in a relationship, or in transition to college, or to the military, or to somewhere else away from here.”
Gil switched topics. “I went ahead and set it up with my friend, Nate Johnson, the General Manager. I just told him I wanted to introduce him to a new friend, who happens to sell advertising for the local weekly, but just a social visit.”
“Great! I won’t mention anything about what you shared with me, of course, but I am interested in his experiences here. Sounds like he is a big fan of the concept of a community living within nature instead of outside of nature.”
”Yeah, that’s a good way to put it.”
They passed through New Deal and went past the Jacobs’ turnoff. Joseph hadn’t been this far north on the highway very often, so he just took in the scenery.
Closer to The Community, there were contractors along the west side of the road working on a trench.
Gil said, “You can see where they’re upgrading the water system. The demand will be enough that they have had to put in larger pipes to accommodate the projected growth.”
They passed the new road that had been cut into the Eagles Nest development. The entrance had two curved fieldstone walls leading the eye toward a road walled with trees, the fresh asphalt disappearing as it curved into the forest.
Bold letters proclaiming “Eagles Nest” stood out in relief against both walls, an eagle at the end of its flight preparing to land atop each sign. The effect was inviting.
Gil pointed to the dirt road coming from the right a little further ahead. “Nothing has been done yet on this side of the highway. But that is the future home of the solar farm.”
The trees were thick at first, mostly pines, but quickly yielded to grassy fields that looked equally good for farming or cattle.
Joseph commented. “I know a realtor who mentioned that this land was purchased by the same people who purchased the property that is now Eagles Nest.”
“I’m very surprised!” said Gil. “I thought that was not published information.”
“Apparently it falls under ‘Public Records’ when real estate is sold and bought.”
Gil took his eyes off the road and looked at Joseph a couple of times. “Joseph, I am impressed. Disguised as an advertising salesman, you will be very effective as a reporter.”
“It’s all about who you know, isn’t it,” Joseph smiled.
The entrance to The Community was now right in front of them…and it was noticeably less dramatic than the entrance to Eagles Nest.
A white billboard with bold black letters announced, “The Community.” A smaller sign stated, “Welcome Center ahead on right.”
“I’ll give you a quick tour and then we can visit with Nate. We’ll go backwards and end up at his office.”
They took a left. His hands still on the steering wheel, Gil nodded toward the first building on the right. “That’s the Community Center, for residents’ meetings and events. Like most buildings, it is made almost entirely from recycled materials. Materials like lumber, brick and steel beams can be salvaged from places being torn down. A little clean-up work and it’s all quite serviceable.”
There were few trees close to the building and solar panels adorned the roof.
As they passed beyond the center, Gil pointed with his hand still on the wheel. “There are several round houses, like the one on the left. They are more energy efficient. And variations on the log cabin design, like the one on the right, are common. The wood is either from other buildings that have been torn down and brought here, or from trees cleared to allow for the building.”
Trees were everywhere, the buildings just nestled among them. There were some grassy areas, but nothing like what you would call a lawn. The tree foliage kept out the heat of the June sun around the houses. Some homes with more exposure had solar panels, but the shaded ones had none.
“I see some homes have solar panels.”
“Yeah, and some don’t because the amount of sun that gets through the canopy would not make it worth the investment. The panels and their installation are still pretty expensive, and 7 of the 10 largest suppliers are in China, only 1 in the U.S. It is an evolving technology at the moment.
“There are several small arrays of solar panels producing energy for the business sector here. Their excess is sold to the power companies. It’s not large, but it offsets some of the electrical power consumed in the development.
“The cabins have great insulation in the thick wood walls. I could bore you with a lot of details, but I’ll leave that to Nate.”
They drove in silence until near the end of the tour. The guest cabins and an impressive hotel were within sight of the Welcome Center. The office building and a large maintenance building were set back behind the Welcome Center, hardly noticeable from the main road. Gil turned into the driveway curling behind the Welcome Center.
Nate’s office was nice, but purely functional with no attempt to impress anyone. He gestured to the chairs, and his two guests sat across the fairly clean desk from Nate.
Nate was used to talking with visitors unfamiliar with The Community and its values and began what sounded like a well-rehearsed monologue. He concluded several minutes later by asking if Joseph had any questions.
Joseph could not resist the obvious. “Gil pointed down the road into Eagles Nest and said there was a gated community being developed there.”
Nate immediately looked uncomfortable and Gil interceded. “I told Joseph that The Community had always practiced the ideals of conservation and has sought to instill those principles in the business and political leaders who visited here for conferences or just out of curiosity.”
Nate took the opportunity to shed a more positive light on the statement that Joseph had made.
“Yes, The Community lives what it teaches. When others seek to use that teaching, it can become a two-edged sword as they adopt some but not all of the ideals espoused.”
“I can see how that could happen,” Joseph agreed. “I visited here 5 or 6 years ago on a school trip and was very impressed. Before coming today, I reviewed your website. The Community is an amazing blend of an ideal living in reality.”
“That’s what we try to do,” agreed Nate, more at ease with the conversation.”
Joseph commented again rather than asking a question. “I have a friend in the real estate business who said a large parcel of land recently was sold on the other side of the highway, across from Eagles Nest.”
Nate cast a sideways glance at Gil, who shrugged and said, “Apparently it is public information.”
Nate was not interested in opening that can of worms and tried to move away from it.
“Yes. We cannot control what occurs beyond our property lines. We are good at what we do and will continue to focus on what we can control.”
“I’m sure you are familiar with New Deal, where Gil lives, and probably with Corn Maize, where I live. Is there anything occurring up here that is going to impact us in a negative way?”
This time, Nate looked directly at Gil, then back at Joseph.
Gil spoke into the awkward silence following Joseph’s direct question. “I did not think anyone knew about the other property that was sold, but at least one real estate agent and Joseph are aware.” He shook his head and said, “It’s going to become public knowledge at some point anyway. That is inevitable.”
Nate nodded, then turned to Joseph.
“This is still confidential. You saw that we have solar panels on many of our buildings, pretty much wherever it is practical. That is a small positive, but by no means a solution to our environmental woes.
“The critical issue is that we have reduced our need for power at the same time that we have used an alternative energy source for what we do use. We have changed how we live to be more in harmony with nature.
“Globally, alternative power sources such as solar, wind, geothermal, and such, have very limited potential at this time. And that is for a variety of reasons, such as inconsistent generation and the inability to store energy cheaply for future use.
“Even worse are the carbon credits being ballyhooed by the biggest abusers of our planet. Essentially, they are saying they will cut power in one place to offset a rise in another place. It’s just smoke and mirrors, transferring money from one pocket to another.”
Joseph could tell Nate was just getting warmed up. For himself, Joseph felt like he had led a sheltered life in Corn Maize. None of the things associated with climate change seemed to have affected Choctaloosa County. It all seemed like a movie, and he and his friends and family were just part of the audience.
Nate hardly paused for a breath as he continued.
“They will plant trees in one place to soak up carbon dioxide while destroying trees in another place.
They will put the burden on primitive societies to protect land sequestered into government protected zones, taking away their ability to produce food.
And they will require the lives of consumers everywhere to be reduced to a minimal quality of life while they jet around to conferences and blow hot air.”
He smiled for the first time. “The hot air of political promises is a major contributor to increased carbon dioxide and climate change.”
Gil interrupted before Nate could continue. “I think Joseph gets the point.”
Nate had stood up while making his points and now returned to his chair.
“We have been trying to figure out how to stop the approval process for a large solar panel farm on that land. While we applaud the use of solar, the current political atmosphere means that any increase in solar will simply help to perpetuate the increase in industrial growth based on energy usage. There will be no reduction of climate change to the planet unless these investments in alternative energy are matched with means of decreasing demand from sources that further damage nature.”
He remained calm but firm as he spoke. “We need for industry to stop its assault on the land, water, and air with chemical fertilizers, pesticides and herbicides; toxic metals like lead and mercury; pharmaceuticals that perpetuate disease rather than create health; processed foods lacking nutrition and adding chemicals; and….”
He stopped once again. “The Destination may have been a noble experiment. Eagles Nest helps to perpetuate the problem and demonstrates our failure.. And that is my sermon for the day, although cut short.”
“The Community is like an embryo ready to bring forth a new plant, but we find ourselves in a toxic garden,” said Gil, for the first time identifying himself with Nate’s cause.
“You will hear spokespersons for the status quo calling for Nature-based Solutions. NbC will be the new acronym. As Nate says, when you look beneath the surface, it is just smoke and mirrors, a little sleight of hand to pick government pockets, that is to say, our pockets.”
Joseph was amazed that what he had thought was a simple statement had engendered such a response. As when Gil had spoken passionately at Dell’s over lunch, Joseph was again surprised at the extent of the arguments he had heard and could scarcely take it all in. This isn’t what he heard when he watched the nightly news!
“But isn’t exposing all of this to the public, bringing it out into the light, the best way to fight it?”
“And what media will present the facts about this?” Nate smiled. “What? Shall we put it in The Choctaloosa Bee?”
“If we can’t save the world, could we at least save Choctaloosa County?” Joseph asked. He knew it sounded pretty lame, but doing nothing was not an acceptable alternative.
There was dead silence for several seconds after Joseph’s statement.
Gil broke the silence. “What Joseph just said is what you have mentioned before, just using different words, Nate. The Community offered the movers and shakers a sanitized nature, and they could not appreciate it. At the same time we were trying to change the world, was it really changing us?
“We have tried the top down approach, trying to change the perspective of the people running the circus. Maybe we should have been working among the crowd.”
Nate’s anger had cooled, but it had been replaced by a look of despondence, even hopelessness, as if the energy had been sucked from him like air from a balloon.
“We need to get Bruce back and have a council meeting,” Nate said, looking at Gil. “The situation has been deteriorating for weeks as we have learned what is happening right on our doorstep. This is something we need to address internally so that The Community can present a united front.”
This thought seemed to reinvigorate him.
“Bruce will be back Friday. I’ll talk to him tonight and set in motion a council meeting for this weekend. We can decide what to do from there.”
“Right,” said Gil. “This is an issue on which there must be unity. Now, having spoiled your afternoon, is there anything else we can do while we are here?”
To Joseph he added, “Bruce Denton is the chairperson of the council.”
Nate laughed. “This moment was inevitable, just part of the process, the ongoing exchanges that we have had internally. Future discussions will have to include more than just Bruce, me, and a select few. We need to be more open and proactive, get more people involved.
“I’ll try to give him a call now. Are you going to see Carol?”
“Yeah, I told her I would swing by and pick her up,” looking at his phone for the time,”…about now.”
“Carol Wesley is Nate’s sister,” Gil explained to Joseph.
Joseph had one last question. “You talk like Bruce runs everything. Is he in charge?”
“No, he is an important part of the council, and it is the council collectively who is in charge. But Bruce has become the face of The Community to the outside world. As a matter of fact, his trip to Atlanta was to visit with a lawyer we keep on retainer, someone more in the flow of the legal world than our own resources who can advise us on situations like those we have been discussing.”
Joseph nodded and said, “Thanks.”
Nate stood and held out his hand to Joseph. “Good to meet you. I am glad we can count on your support.”
“Sure,” Joseph responded, shaking his hand.
“See you later, Nate,” Gil said as he turned with Joseph to the door. Nate gave a partial wave as he reached for the phone on the desk.
Joseph and Gil did not speak until they were back in the Jeep.
“Wow! That was…interesting!” said Joseph, not sure what word to describe what had just happened.
“That is an understatement. I knew things would have to come to a head soon. I just didn’t know we’d be there when it started. Being a fly on the wall at the council meeting – now THAT would be interesting!”
There was only a short distance to Carol’s house. Gil explained it actually belonged to Nate and his wife, and Carol had a room and bath of her own. She had lived there for over a year. Divorced and tired of teaching in an urban school system, she had come here for a fresh start.
As Gil got out of the car, he said, “I’ll just be a minute.” The house door opened quickly after he knocked. Carrying a small travel bag, Carol came outside, giving Gil a quick kiss before proceeding to the Jeep.
After introductions, Gil began to tell Carol about the meeting with Nate. She was obviously aware of the background information.
At the end, she said, “I agree that it was bound to reach a crisis point eventually. We are fighting forces a lot stronger than we are. Getting additional popular support is about the only way we have even a chance of preserving The Community and what we have.”
Joseph picked up on the last comment. “Gil says you’ve been here a year, that you came down to teach. It sounds like you are really committed to what The Community is doing.”
As with Joseph’s statement to Nate concerning the property across from Eagles Nest, this statement prompted a lengthy response from Carol.
She touched on some of the difficulties in teaching in an urban school system: large classes, standardized testing, the need for everyone to move at the same slow speed, and covering topics that did not seem appropriate for school, among others.
And then she launched into all of the benefits of teaching in The Community. “I teach a combined 3rd and 4th grade class. I still have to be sure they can pass the standardized tests, but how we get there is pretty much up to me, within reason.
“One of the great things is that we have classes that involve learning not only by hearing the teacher and seeing the words in a book, but by actually doing. In addition to traditional things like math and English, I am responsible for a class called “Shop,” basically a DIY class. And in early fall and late spring we have projects outside.
“In those last two areas, I found there were a couple of kids who are better at it than I am and they became the teachers. You have no idea what it means when the ones who don’t do well in academics can take the lead on more concrete subjects and the smart kids are learning from them.”
“Tell him your observation about the individual and the community,” said Gil.
“Yeah, there is this beautiful tension in all of us between being a unique individual and being a social creature, just one among many. Some kids are on one extreme or the other, but most are somewhere along the spectrum in between. It is great to be able to help them think for themselves and then to share ideas and work toward a community consensus.”
“The tension between liberals and conservatives – and they may line up differently on different issues – is a positive thing allowing a broader perspective to be considered.”
Carol had talked excitedly about these positives and summarized her conclusion about the time they reached Corn Maize. “The task of helping a student to prepare to be a productive and fulfilled individual and at the same time be a member of the community….” She laughed. “I mean the larger world community, actually seems possible here.“
As they approached Joseph’s house, Gil said, “And there’s your education on education. You and I probably cannot attend the council meeting since we don’t live there, but I will ask Nate anyway. I’ll let you know.”
Joseph thought Carol’s description of the balance between the individual and the community fit Choctaloosa County pretty well.
After the goodbye’s, Joseph went into his house. 5:35. Time to freshen up a bit and head to Claire’s. Funny how it had switched from being “Dinah’s” to “Claire’s” house.
Dad wasn’t home and when his mom asked about his day, he just said, “Good. And Gil, the guy I met at the diner, gave me a ride.” He didn’t add where, hoping he could save the explanation for both parents at the same time.
He quickly added, “Remember I’m going to have dinner with Dinah and Claire? Still OK for me to have the car? I’m going to get cleaned up.”
Ten minutes later, as he was trying to leave, she asked about where he had gone.
He kissed her on the cheek and said, “Long story. It’s been one of those days, but at least I haven’t delivered any babies yet. I’ll tell you and Dad when I get back.” And he was out the door.
Some “Now” Moments Claire opened the door as Joseph arrived right at 6:00. “Dinah’s feeding Chloe now,” Claire said. “Maybe she’ll be able to join us soon since Chloe will likely go to sleep.”
“We can sit down and talk a little while we wait. Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ah! The ma’am just slipped out. Old habits die hard.
He sat in the chair beside the sofa and looked at the pictures on the wall while he waited. It was a little like looking through the family photo album all in one glance.
She came in with his tea and a glass of her own and sat on the couch.
He realized how thirsty he was and took a long sip. “Sounded like you had some news when you called yesterday. Oh, and did the buyer actually buy the lot?”
“Not yet on the lot, but still a real possibility. More hoops,” she smiled.
“As to news, guess who is heading up the investor group that is selling the property in Eagles Nest and the land across the highway?”
Joseph paused for only a second before answering with a question. “Your husband?”
“Yes. Turns out he set up Choctaloosa Realty as the agent knowing I would get the proceeds. He thought ‘we’ were getting the commissions, but he received the notice of divorce today. I thanked him for allowing ‘me’ to get the commissions when he called today after receiving the papers.”
“It all gets more and more interesting, doesn’t it!” said Joseph. “I guess that you also know about the solar panel farm intended for the land, but you could not disclose it.”
“Yes,” Claire confirmed. “How did you find out?”
“The folks at Community Valley know.” He then gave a summary of his visit with Gil Templeton and Nate Johnson.
“What are your thoughts on the solar panel farm, Claire?”
“I really know little about the technology. I keep hearing that is the wave of the future.”
Joseph gave Nate’s negative perspective as best as he could remember it.
Claire considered the comments for a couple of minutes, her tea still untouched on the coaster on the coffee table. Joseph took the last sip of his.
“If Samuel Jacobs is involved, he has figured an angle to ensure he profits. Since this is the third house he owns at the moment – hopefully he will be down to 2 when the divorce finalizes – I must admit that I have benefitted.”
She did finally take a sip of the tea. “But based on what I know of him now, I will probably find myself on the opposite side from him on any issue.”
“Do you think he will contest your divorce suit?”
“I doubt it. We may quibble over the details, but my request was very reasonable. I really don’t want what is his to taint my future. I told him that if he gets nasty, I can beat him at that game!”
Dinah came in with Chloe in her arms at that moment.
“Hey, Joseph! How are you? She’s about to fall asleep but I thought I would show her off.”
Joseph got up and looked at the tiny bundle. Only the face was showing, a still very small face with heavy eyes that could hardly stay open.”
“She looks like she is doing great, ready for a good sleep.”
“Yeah, she’s doing great, aren’t you little girl?” She rocked her arms as she spoke.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said to her mom, then looked at Joseph, as well.
Claire was already up, heading toward the kitchen as Dinah left. “I’ll set out the food. It’s been kept warm.” Joseph went back to the picture gallery while he waited.
When Dinah came back to the entrance from the front hallway, she said, “Come on into the dining room,” and turned that direction. Joseph followed.
The dining room table was square with four chairs. There was room for it to be extended and two more chairs against the far wall. Claire had set the plates of baked chicken, mashed potatoes, Cole slaw and rolls in the center of the three place settings.
Claire indicated a seat for Joseph across from Dinah while she took the seat closest to the kitchen. Dinah moved the tall table centerpiece between her and Joseph slightly toward the unused end of the table.
As he sat down, Joseph noticed that Dinah was wearing loose fitting jeans. The white shirt with buttons down the front had long sleeves rolled up loosely toward the elbow. She looked comfortable. Somehow she seemed to be more herself than when he had seen her standing at her locker in her school clothes the previous fall.
And how is it that she can she look more like herself? Did she look like somebody else? Yes, actually, back then she looked a lot like every other cheerleader.
Dinah must have noticed him looking and said, “This is my nursing outfit, not particularly fashionable,” and took her seat.
“I don’t think either of us needs a fashion contest at this point. Functional works pretty well.”
She smiled in appreciation.
Claire told Joseph to take some chicken and then serve himself from each of the other plates and start passing them around. As their plates were filled, she told Dinah the gist of the conversation with Joseph to bring her up to date.
“So what is the next step?” asked Dinah?
Joseph looked at Claire who nodded back to him.
“That’s a good question. If The Community council wants to fight it, we’ll at least have their resources. Maybe there is something in the contract for the land they sold, but they have reviewed it and don’t think so. It only covers Eagles Nest anyway.
“Nate said that no major news outlet would take our side against what would be considered an environmentally beneficial project. Putting an article in The Bee isn’t going to arouse the masses and stop a project worth hundreds of millions of dollars.
“There is an approval process that has to be done, but there is no reason to think that the agencies that could stop it will have any reason not to approve it.
“So unless we can find something else, I think life here is about to change drastically.”
Joseph was starving and started eating at the end of his depressing monologue. Claire picked up from there.
“Have you seen the land, Joseph? If not, maybe we could all ride out there tomorrow if Dinah and Chloe are up for a field trip. Just to look at it and see what we are talking about.”
Joseph shrugged and said, after swallowing, “OK with me.” He looked at Dinah.
She gave a half-hearted smile. “I haven’t been out with Chloe, and don’t know how that’s going to go.”
“Nonsense,” said her mom. “You both have to get out sometime. I got a car seat for her, so we can try it out.”
“I won’t have access to a car, but I can bike here. What time?”
“How about 8:00. We’ll at least avoid the hottest part of the day.”
“What is there to see out there, Mom?” Dinah was not pleased to be pushed.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Claire. “Maybe an Indian burial ground or an endangered species. Who knows?”
A faint cry came from the hallway to the bedrooms. By the time Dinah had risen, Chloe’s call had become much more insistent. For some reason, he thought about Jerry singing with Dorothy in the cornfield.
Claire made some comments about the weather forecast for the next few days, but Joseph’s mind was elsewhere.
After a moment, Dinah came padding back down the hall. Chloe was crying and Dinah was stroking her back, from the bottom of the spine upward. The cries were not getting weaker.
“She seems to be uncomfortable and will not be able to go to sleep. I just came to say good night for both of us.”
At that moment, Chloe gave a loud burp. Her crying ceased almost immediately.
“Or maybe we’ll both just sit here and finish dinner,” Dinah laughed. She sat back down holding Chloe in her left arm.
“Something really interesting,” she said, “is how Chloe just seems to be focused on the moment. She was uncomfortable because we didn’t get all of the air out of her stomach with the first burp, and she cried to let me know. Now she is content to go to sleep. She has no worry about what happened a few minutes ago, or what will happen when she wakes up.”
She was gently rocking her child, looking into her half closed eyes. “It takes all of her energy just to be in this moment. There is no clock. She is focused on each second, aware only of the present, laying the foundation for who she will become.”
Dinah began to eat using her free right hand. She looked very comfortable with it all.
Joseph thought that her comments were very profound and could think of nothing to say. Claire apparently felt the same, finally asking Joseph, “What have you been working on since the article last week?”
Joseph thought it a good time to tell about his visit with Jerry, the basis for the article that he thought would appear in The Bee on Friday.
They talked about that for a few minutes, particularly, Jerry’s conclusion to the story.
“Yes, I was thinking about that while listening to Chloe cry. We come into the world and it is all about us at that moment. As we grow up, we find it is less and less about us. Maybe at the end, like with Jerry saying that it is all about Jesus, about God, we find out it was never really about us at all.”
He finished off his chicken and had a sip of tea. Dinah and Claire were just looking at him. He self-consciously wiped his mouth with his napkin.
After that brief silence, Claire said, “Each ‘me’ is a ‘you’ to somebody else.” She looked at Dinah. “Except maybe for a mother and her child.”
She looked at Joseph. “I think you’re right, but it’s a hard lesson. I don’t think many of us have the humility of Jerry to come to that conclusion.”
Dinah was rocking Chloe gently, her eyes now on a blank space of tablecloth, her mind elsewhere.
Field Trip
The next morning promised another Alabama summer day. Joseph had breakfast and started off on his bike a little after 7:30. The sun was already warm, but the open breeze on the bike kept it from being uncomfortable.
When he arrived just before 8:00, Claire was on the porch. She rose as he approached.
“Dinah said she and Chloe did not have a good night and she will stay here.” Still standing a little above Joseph on the slightly raised porch, she added, “I don’t think they had any problems. I think she is just afraid to go back out into the world.”
Joseph shook his head. “Yeah, I could see not wanting to go somewhere that she might run into old friends, but this field trip won’t expose her to anything more uncomfortable than a warm day on a dirt road.”
Claire laughed. “You make it sound so inviting! Let’s go,”
They went to her late model Altima, a bright silver with the Choctaloosa Realty logo on the side. The sporty red Celica was parked beside it, probably unused since being rescued from the side of the highway. It did not look like a car that belonged to Dinah at this point in time.
Not much traffic on the highway, they turned right onto the dirt road across from Eagles Nest. It was fairly new, not yet rutted, and not a bad drive aside from the large dust plume hanging in the still air behind the Altima.
After a few hundred yards, the pines gave way to a mixture of grasses and low shrubs with islands of pines or hardwoods. No work was evident other than the road and occasional lines of stakes sporting red tape hanging limply in expectation of a breeze.
They came to a stop, perhaps half a mile from the highway.
Heavy machinery had been delivered to the site, including a couple of bull dozers, a large wood chipper, and dump trucks lined up against a stand of oaks. The machinery looked brand new, more evidence of a well-financed operation.
Joseph had the feeling of being on the Choctaloosa Panthers football team and coming onto the field to find that the opposition was the Auburn Tigers.
“What do we do, Claire?” asked Joseph, feeling a bit overwhelmed.
She was silent for a moment. “I think it’s a good day for a walk. I have found in the real estate business that pictures are good. Got your phone camera with you?”
“Yes,” he said, getting out of the car. They walked from the island of hardwood over to an area of low bushes. As they drew near, he could see the berries, a mixture that was predominantly black but with many branches still holding red clusters. Blackberries were ready for picking, the prickly branches there only protection.
But this was not the day for picking blackberries, even as images of warm crusty blackberry pie topped with ice cream made his mouth water.
They each took a couple of pictures as they walked toward the loblolly tree line at the end of the low brush. Tucked along the line formed by the base of the trees were clusters of other bushes, not identifiable to Joseph.
They were somewhat like miniature corn stalks, the solid stem with long thin leaves spaced up and down its length. The leaves had no stems of their own. Like the corn plant, they wrapped themselves around the stalk for support. But the stalks did not bear miniature corn cobs.
“What are these?” he asked as he reached down to touch the white heads sprouting from the plant. Solid bases at some leaf nodes gave rise to the filaments bearing the grainy white heads. The appearance was something like a plant sprouting old fashioned shaving brushes, complete with a thin white foamy head.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen these,” said Claire as she reached down to touch one.
“Ouch!” she yelped, quickly pulling back her hand. “Those thin stems are loaded with stickers, worse than the blackberry bushes.” She sucked a finger that had started to bleed.
“We have a hostile army of machines invading,” remarked Joseph with a nod toward the machinery, “but the natives are not very welcoming to us, either, are they!”
“I agree.” She aimed her phone from several angles, taking a series of pictures. Joseph did the same from different places.
Their paths diverged, each walking through different sections of knee high grassy areas, through the stands of woods, and along the outside boundaries of the clusters of bushes, taking various pictures as they went.
Occasionally they startled a rabbit or bird or squirrel or some other creature of the field and woods. Some photos would be live action captured in the moment, while the others were just still life pictures.
Yep, there is some irony there: it is still life, alive at least for the time being.
As the sun warmed, they tended more to be taking pictures from the shady spots, looking out and across the fields bathed in the June sun.
The stroll in nature was all quite enjoyable until it wasn’t. They came back together toward 10:00, the sun now on the unpleasant side of warm.
“Tea time?” asked Joseph.
“I suppose,” said Claire, evidently feeling there was something left unfinished here. From beside her car she took a couple of shots of the mechanical arsenal silently waiting to be unleashed on the natural world.
A pickup came toward them from the highway leaving a trail of dust. It came to a stop on Claire’s side of the car. The driver rolled down his tinted passenger side window and leaned toward them.
“You know you are on private property, don’t you?”
“How would we know that?” asked Claire. Pointing back toward the highway, she added, “There were no signs,”
She stepped toward the late model white Silverado. The decal on the door panel read AIM Contractors. “Hi, I’m Claire Jacobs with Choctaloosa Realty.”
“I don’t care who you are, lady. This is private property and I’m asking you to leave.”
“You’ve got a lot of equipment here. What are you going to be doing here? What are you building?”
“I’m just preparing the land. Please leave or I’ll have to call the sheriff.”
“No need to get huffy, Mr….?”
“Leave. Now.” He pointed back to the way he had come onto the property to eliminate any doubt as to the way out.
They got back in the car.
“A bit touchy, wasn’t he!” she commented as they buckled into their seats.
“Yes,” Joseph agreed. “Seems a bit like overkill for people just walking in a field.”
They went back to Claire’s with only a little conversation of what they had seen during the morning.
Dinah was with Chloe in the back room when they arrived. A bath and a feeding had just been accomplished and both mother and child seemed ready for a nap when they came into the living room. Joseph was in his usual chair (getting to feel at home, are we?) while Claire was brewing tea.
“How did the exploration go?” asked Dinah.
Joseph gave her a summary of the rather unspectacular things they had seen and the ungracious command to leave.
The sound of ice being taken from the freezer and plopped into glasses startled Chloe and Dinah said she would see if the little girl would take a nap.
Claire brought large glasses of iced tea including one for Dinah, if she wanted one. Seeing her hands full and her gesture toward a stack of coasters on the coffee table, Joseph spread them out and she put down the three glasses.
“Ah, this is good,” said Joseph as he took a few sips of the cold liquid.
Claire was scrolling through the pictures on her phone, occasionally taking a sip. Joseph decided to review his, as well.
“I don’t see much except what you might see on any plots of countryside in the county. Maybe the fella was just concerned about something happening to his equipment. Or maybe something happening to us and filing a lawsuit.”
“Maybe,” said Joseph noncommittedly, about at the end of his own review.
Dinah entered the room and sat by her mom. She said, “May I see?” and started scrolling through the pictures.
"Pretty serious equipment lined up!” she commented.
A moment later she asked, “What are these bushes with the white heads on those long narrow stems?”
“Not a clue,” said her mom.
“I ask because they look familiar.”
To Joseph, Dinah asked, “Did you have Miss Jackson in the 8th grade?”
“No,” he laughed. “I had the one year wonder, Ms. Meadows.”
“Miss Jackson was big on local history. She had us do a project on the county. We all got divided into teams of 2 to write a report on something pretty specific about the county and then present it to the class.
“I got stuck with Mark, who was pretty much a bookworm, but that actually turned out kinda good because he was good at reports and I was good at talking up front.
“Anyway, Miss Jackson suggested we do a report on Ella B. Mayes’ diary that was written in the 1840’s. The diary was on display in a covered case at the county library, but we could use a typed up copy that some students had done for a project back in the ‘80’s before they locked up the diary.
“It still has the blank places where the writing was illegible or the ink faded, but a whole lot is still there. And there were copies of the drawings Ella B. Mayes had made. Many of them were of the cabins and people, but some were just drawings of trees and plants. One of the drawings said “Grit Bush,” and Mark and I laughed at it.
“But these pictures look a lot like the grit bush in her drawing.”
They all knew the Legend of the Grit Bush. But, of course, everybody knew that there had never been such a plant. Where was the Grit Bush now? There should be at least some fossilized remains or record of it in some archive of some nation in the world, if it had ever existed, that is.
Joseph opened up the pictures again on his phone, and looked at his own images of the bush. He had no idea of what a grit bush would look like.
The possibility was dawning on all three of them that they might have a legal reason to at least stall if not completely stop the solar panel farm.
continued
An Advertising Salesperson’s Job
After sending an email to Mr. Franklin with the two articles and a brief cover note, Joseph thought about what the day would look like.
He needed to visit Don this morning, then what? Look for another advertiser?
But then he decided he better make sure he could help Don with an ad and get that squared away first.
He went to the stack of newspapers by the fireplace and pulled out the Sunday editions of the Montgomery Advertiser. There were half a dozen and he took them to the kitchen table.
He pulled out the Cheerios, added milk and sugar to the bowl, and sat down. He would find his inspiration in the pile before him. No need to reinvent the wheel!
He looked for the WII-FM’s as he looked through the different ads, making notes on a blank sheet of paper.
By 9:00, the few cheerios left were soggy blobs in the lukewarm milk. Time to go to work.
He folded his notepaper and put it in his pocket and replaced the papers.
His mom was getting ready for work at the Food Pantry. Another commute on his bicycle! He yelled a goodbye to his mom, waited for an acknowledgment, and headed out the backdoor for his bike.
The visit with Don went well with only a few customer interruptions. Don had done his homework, too. He had picked the size of the ad and the points that he wanted to make. They talked about some things to make the ad more customer oriented based on some of the notes Joseph had made that morning.
Don then gave Joseph a list of the things he wanted Joseph to put in the free article about Don’s Hardware.
By a few minutes after 11:00 it was a done deal. He just needed to write the article and submit it along with the ad design to Mr. Franklin. He or his wife would put them in the format to send to the printer.
Joseph stepped out of the air conditioned store into a river of humidity flowing beneath a shower of sharp sunlight. He could feel the rays burning invisible holes in his bare arms. The jeans that were comfortable on the bike ride here now encased his legs in a sauna. He did not look forward to the ride home.
Having turned off his phone for the meeting with Don, he switched it back on. One missed call and VoiceMail from “Claire.” That meant it was her home phone because her office number would show “Choctaloosa Realty.”
The message was an invitation to dinner at her house tonight. That’s tonight!
He clicked the link to her number and she answered, “Hello,” almost immediately.
“Claire, this is Joseph. I’d love to come to dinner tonight. Should I bring anything?” Good job of not saying, “Can I…!”
“No, just yourself. We might get some time to talk. I’ve been looking into things a little further. See you about 6:00?”
“Great, see you tonight.”
He put the phone back in his pocket. Not even on your bike yet and already you’re sweating!
He looked in his wallet and had several ones. There was a fair amount of loose change in his pocket. A sandwich, fries, drink and a tip would just about wipe him out.
But that’s what money is for, right? He walked into Dell’s.
As he adjusted to the light, he saw the place was just about full. A table for two behind where he had met with Claire was vacant, probably because it was next to the door used in and out of the kitchen to the tables. He took the seat facing the entrance, his back to the wall beside the swinging kitchen door.
Dell was helping Tina with waiting on the tables, but it was Tina who came to take his order.
“I’ll have the BLT, fries and a sweet tea,” he said without ever looking at the menu.
“Coming right up!” she smiled.
An Unexpected Interview
He watched the front door and the next couple who arrived took the last table. Seconds later, a man about his father’s age entered. Blinking for a moment, he looked around. No tables.
Joseph waved a hand and caught the man’s attention. Joseph pointed to the empty chair across from him. The man smiled and came over.
“Gil Templeton,” he said as he sat down, offering his hand. “Thanks for the seat.”
“Joseph Crispin, and you’re welcome,” he said as he shook the extended hand. “I just ordered a BLT. We’ll get Tina’s attention as she passes by.”
“BLT. Good choice.” He had started to look at the menu but put it back. “My office is next door,” he said, with a nod of his head toward the wall away from Don’s.
Joseph had seen the office but had never thought much about Equity Financial. In smaller print the sign on the window mentioned taxes, financial planning, and maybe something else. As he thought about it, there had never been a WII-FM, a “What’s In It For Me,” that he could see.
“The financial place?” asked Joseph to confirm.
“Yeah. I help people with their finances, income taxes, retirement plans and such. Sometimes it’s just helping them learn to balance a checkbook,” he smiled.
“So where are you in your life journey,” Gil asked, tactfully avoiding assumptions regarding schooling.
Joseph happened to catch Tina’s eye and raised his hand. Tina headed their way. “What can I getchya, Gil?” she asked.
“I’ll take the BLT, fries, and the usual Nehi orange, please.”
“You got it!” and she was gone to the next table.
“Sounds like you’re a regular here.”
“Most days I’ll have at least one meal here. Cooking for one seems a bit of overkill since they already have it done.” He smiled. “Besides, I can get my vegetables like Mom said I should.”
“Unless you’re doing the BLT and fries.”
Gil laughed. “Yeah, the lettuce and tomato with the bacon probably doesn’t count. I guess I’ll have to come back for dinner.”
“To answer your question, Gil, I’m just on the sidelines. I feel like I need to see more about how the game is played. Maybe I’ll get to play substitute in some positions and see what I like. Right now, I’ve just taken a job selling advertising for The Bee.”
“Yeah, good idea,” said Gil. His expression brightened a bit. “I usually glance through The Bee, but that article on the front page last week really caught my attention. Good stuff!”
What do you say to that, Ace Reporter? “Oh, uh, yeah, that was really something, being present for the birth of a baby in a car! What an experience THAT must have been!”
Gil nodded. “So, how’s the sales job going?”
“Well, I just started this week, but I have gotten one new advertiser.”
“That’s great! So how do you do it, make a sale, I mean?”
“Everybody listens to WII-FM, so I try to help them see ‘What’s In It For Me.’”
“That’s classic business school technique, but I take it you haven’t been to B school yet.”
Joseph started to agree that he hadn’t, but then a different thought occurred to him. “I don’t know what business school is like, but I feel like that is where I am now.”
“Ah, the school of life, right. Probably the best teacher, because once you get out of B school, you still have to learn how it works in the real world.”
Tina’s timing was perfect, bringing out their drinks.
“Just a couple of minutes on your orders, guys,” and she was gone again. The room was full with people waiting for tables although Joseph had tuned out the din from conversations.
“I’ve seen that you have a business card kind of ad. Is that working well for you?”
“Now that we’re talking about it, we might focus it on the people I really want to help. It’s the young ones getting started who have not really had the training to know how to handle their new found freedom. They get a paycheck but don’t really know how best to use it. That’s what brought me into this business, helping people navigate through the financial part of life.”
“What was it that brought you here to New Deal and Choctaloosa County? You definitely don’t sound like you’re from around here.”
Gil smiled. “How long does it take to get that distinctive local accent? Well, maybe that’ll come,” he shrugged.
“The short answer to your question is that I was a rat in the race and the climate was cold, ‘til I found a place where I could be a guy in the sunshine out for a stroll. Hey, did that sound like lyrics to a country song? Anyway, here I am!”
“That’s cool. And yeah, you have potential if you can handle a guitar.” They both could laugh at that.
And with that, Tina delivered two BLT’s with fries. Ketchup was on the table. There was a moment’s silence as they started on their meals. Life was good!
“It sounds like you have a lot of helpful advice to offer us young adults. I’m learning that there’s a lot I don’t even know that I don’t know.” Experiences and thoughts from the last 10 days passed through Joseph’s mind like lightning flashes. One of them escaped through his mouth without warning.
“What about the folks at Eagles Nest. Seems like they’re the ones with money.”
The smile disappeared pretty quickly from Gil’s face.
“That’s what I was trying to leave behind.”
Gil loaded a French fry with ketchup and took a bite.
“You know,” he said as he wiped the ketchup off his fingers, “I never have noticed any articles in The Bee about what’s going on at Eagles Nest or what will become of that large stretch of land across the highway from it. Of course, I haven’t seen anything in the bigger newspapers I follow, either, but what is happening up there is going to affect the character of this county dramatically.”
The French fry stuck in Joseph’s throat. He had to take a sip of tea to get it down.
“It’s just a gated community, isn’t it? Is that a big deal?”
“The gated community is on the west side of the highway. The lots are nearly a mile away and very much out of sight of the highway, if you noticed. As more people move in, they will expect more of the amenities – that is, stores, amusements, roads, etc. – to which they are accustomed.
“It’s the land on the east side and how it will be used that may be more significant. Are you familiar with solar energy farms?”
Images of arrays of solar panels covering vast acres of fields in the southwest, the inhospitable landscape looking something like that on a lunar landing, passed through Joseph’s mind.
“You mean acres and acres of solar panels covering the ground up there?”
Peripheral images of giant transmission towers came to mind. Monsters of steel reaching up to maybe 150 feet high with arms outstretched 100 feet wide, would litter the landscape, adding to the alien nature of such a project.
Gil allowed the pictures to develop in Joseph’s mind as he took another couple of bites of his BLT. Joseph’s mouth was immobilized as the few words that Gil had spoken redirected all his energy to the newsreel running in front of him.
“Yeah. I can see you are getting the picture, and it’s not pretty.”
“But why here? We don’t have landscapes like in Arizona, and we don’t have the amount of sun that they do.”
“You are right on both counts, Joseph. But if you look at a map of the eastern half of the country wanting to find a place to have large solar panel farms, Choctaloosa County has exactly what you want.”
Gil started counting on his fingers.
“This county is one of many that measure near maximum for sunlight hours per year, at least in the eastern half of the country...”
Second finger: “And it’s close to high population areas like the I-75 corridor through Atlanta and on down through Florida…”
Third finger (which seemed to send a message to the people who did live near the solar farm): “but not with high population in the proximity of the farm…”
Fourth finger: “With no negative environmental impact concerning endangered species…”
Fifth finger, actually the thumb: “And the power company buying that solar panel gets to show an offset against its power production, which will continue producing and polluting at the same level.”
He brought up the first finger of the other hand, “Even though government subsidies for the large scale farms are drying up, it’s great for public relations. The media love it.”
He lowered his hands. “And then, my friend, you find that Choctaloosa County is the perfect location to be sacrificed to progress. Like a third world country exporting its natural wealth to the developed world, we'll be exporting power to the national grid.”
Joseph was stunned, and he was still on the third finger!
“Why doesn’t anybody know about this?”
“It’s still in the planning stages – getting bankers and politicians behind it is a more accurate description. By the time it comes out for public comment, it will be too late. Bankers and politicians have already committed to the idea of it. They’re just looking for a place for it to happen.”
He continued after a brief pause. “The project will steam roll over any opposition without a problem thanks to the corporate nature of mainstream media. They are owned by the same people who will benefit financially from solar.”
“Wait! Wait! Isn’t solar good?” asked Joseph, shaking his head. “Won’t everybody be better off? And will it really be so bad for the county? Won’t that mean more jobs, more revenue, and all that good stuff?”
“Depends on what you call ‘good stuff,’” replied Gil. “It’s not like this will become another Atlanta, but look at all the people moving in for the construction phase. Then the full time workers for a 7-24 power generation station, maybe 50 to 100 families, will move here. All this along with the growing gated community.
“The highway will become at least a four lane to get from all the expensive new homes to shops and restaurants, bars, and fast food. Blue Tail, New Deal, and Corn Maize will become strip malls and shopping centers. Throw in a country club or two, maybe a small airport nearby, and who knows what else?
“And then there are the towers marching east toward Atlanta or south toward Florida, or both.” Gil nodded. “I can see you are getting the picture.”
Joseph was flabbergasted, but a suspicious thought leapt from his mouth. “How do you know all this when nobody else does?”
“Good question. So you have the mind of a reporter and not just an advertising salesman,” Gil stated.
“It’s a long story.” He took his last bite of sandwich and pushed the plate away, a few fries lingering near a smear of ketchup.
“You want a dessert or some more tea? Do you even have the time?”
Mentally going back through his financial resources – the one dollar bills and the change in his pocket – Joseph opted for a free tea refill. Gil got another Nehi when he caught Tina’s attention.
Continuing his story, “I have a friend who is the General Manager up at The Community. We were in B school together and were pretty good friends. He came down here about ten years ago to run the marketing campaign that The Community was using to attract wealthy visitors. He liked it and stayed on, which I thought was crazy at the time.
“And he has done a good job, maybe too good a job. The Community has become a Destination for a clique of the high powered one percenters. You know, the one percent of the people that have way over 90% of all the money.
“Anyway, we had lunch yesterday. Now can I get your assurance that nothing about me or him will get into The Bee or any other paper? I don’t want him to get into trouble, and it would be serious legal trouble for him.”
Remember about “Deep Throat,” Mr. Bernstein? Yeah, we can keep our sources confidential.
“Sure. Keeping sources confidential is key to a reporter’s success and guaranteed by the…First Amendment, right?”
“Right! First, it is important to mention that a wealthy banker who had visited The Community saw an opportunity to bring wealthy clients here to experience nature in this rural setting. His company would bring clients here for meetings.
“He sold this idea to my friend, who sold the idea to the leadership of The Community on the idea of a partnership. The goals for The Destination were two-fold.
"The benefit for The Community, besides income, was that they would educate the big money people on the value of nature. They would be educating the influencers of the culture on the beauty and value of a more natural lifestyle.
"At the same time, the financial backer would be selling them on making investments on ventures that he favored. The fact that the visitors were enjoying themselves in a remote location without other business distractions was an advantageous setting.
"He invested in some of the infrastructure needed and The Community provided the needed services. Those workers were compensated, bringing money in. It was a win-win for him and The Community.
“The Community suddenly had all these wealthy guests. Their idea was to show them the good side of nature, the value of a simpler lifestyle, perhaps even to soften that capitalistic spirit of conquering everything while instilling a respect for nature and the environment. It was to be a haven where they could relax and see life differently.
"So The Community was bringing through all these wealthy guests. The idea was to show them the good side of nature, the value of a simpler lifestyle, perhaps even to soften that capitalistic spirit of conquering everything while instilling a respect for nature and the environment. It was to be a haven where they could relax and see life differently.
“When a few of these high powered people approached them about buying the unused land along the southwestern corner of The Community, a little over 200 acres, the council that runs The Community were a little apprehensive. They were assured it would be a residential community that would not impact the ecology.
“The council finally agreed and the sale went through.
“What the council didn’t know was that the same people were buying another 300 acres below the southeastern corner. This is where the solar farm will go.
“So now there are these huge developments, 500 acres right up next to The Community, and they represent everything that is the direct opposite of their principles. My friend is very upset about how they have been manipulated into betraying the ideals for which they stand.”
"But isn’t solar power good for the environment? Isn’t that something we all want?” Joseph was perplexed.
“There are a lot of arguments against solar at this time: intermittent, availability, expensive storage, requirements for rare minerals, cost, primary sources are in China, etc. Solar can play a role in reducing climate change, but in the long term we are going to have to find less energy intensive technologies for things like heating and cooling and transportation.
“We also need to reduce high energy requirements for manufacturing products, such as plastic, which requires petroleum but then never degrades. More and cheaper power does not necessarily equate to a more viable earth.”
“Won’t the people buying these expensive homes be upset by this solar panel farm and all it entails?” asked Joseph.
“Part of the deal is that they get cheap power rates directly from the solar panel farm. All the other electricity customers get the higher prices for the mix of solar, coal, and nuclear generated power.
"The contract for the Eagles Nest land included a stipulation that it would be a green development with a small carbon footprint.
"The Community did not know about the solar panel farm. Eagles Nest can use the solar power for all its energy needs, thus qualifying as a green development. There is no limitation on what their energy uses or what they do with the land other than it being residential with parks or other green spaces. That can now include golf courses, polo grounds, and a host of other things not envisioned when the contract was signed.
“And they will have 5G telecommunications. That sounds great – 1000 times as much data. But it also will require 1000 times more power to run it. Think about that for a moment.”
He paused to let Joseph absorb what he had just said. “We are increasing power consumption faster than we can provide alternative sources.
“And the solar farm is across the highway at a slightly lower level. Out of sight, out of mind for Eagles Nest.
“And there is a guarantee of no transmission towers on their side of the highway.”
Hasn’t everyone praised growth as the goal of everybody, every organization, every geographic sector?
“From the county's point of view, Isn’t it all about growth?”
“What do you want this county to look like in five years?”
Joseph thought of what it was like now, and what it would be like after all those people moved here. It was not a comfortable comparison. Over those five years the changes would just creep in slowly. One morning you would wake up and everything had changed, and not all for the better.
“So why would anybody want to come way out here, and then go to the trouble to bring everything they left behind with them?”
Gil did not respond, just looking at Joseph with an expression that did not engender hope. He finally answered, “It seems to me that even though they will be in Choctaloosa County, Choctaloosa County will not be in them.”
Joseph nodded, but only in agreement with the last statement. Everything else was too much too quickly.
Are you an ace reporter, or are you just one of the faceless people in the crowd, gaping at whatever news event is playing out in front of them?
“You’ve thought about this for a day, Gil. What can we do?”
“We are in a bind. The truth will set us free, but if we tell the truth, my friend is breaking a legally binding confidentiality agreement. Even if we spoke this truth, the power of the people backing this, including their bankers, politicians, and media cronies, would quickly crush us. My friend has been thinking about that question a lot, believe me!
”And I spent the morning reading the documents he could provide, looking for a loophole, something, anything, and could not find one.”
Gil took a deep breath. “So, you’re the first person I’ve run into that I could talk about this.” He laughed. “Sorry to dump on you, but there it is, in a smelly pile.”
“Surely there is something that can be done,” is what Joseph said, but his mind was saying, “And why do you think there has to be a solution?”
Gil got up. “I hate to dump and run, but I have a client due shortly.” He stuck out his hand. “Just between us, right?”
Joseph shook his hand. “Right.”
“See you around, especially if you come here,” Gil smiled. “We can talk more about what is really happening right under our noses. And maybe even talk about a better ad.” He turned and went to the register after leaving a generous tip on the table.
Joseph counted out his ones and the exact change for his meal. The rest was an acceptable amount for a tip.
The Ace Reporter left the interview room with his pockets turned inside out. He wondered when he might ever be able to buy a cream pie again.
A Reporter’s Duty By now it was a little after 1:00. The sun was almost straight overhead. The ride home would be short but hot. At least you’re not walking!
The house was empty when he got home. The cool felt good and a glass of plain ice water sounded right. He got a glass, filled it with ice and then water, and went to his office. His phone rang just as he entered,
Claire Jacobs showed on the screen. Her work phone. He answered.
“Hey, Joseph, A client wants to see property at 6:00 tonight. I’m sorry, but could we have you over tomorrow?”
The “we” sounds like a thawing of the mother’s protective barrier!
“Sure, Claire. See you at 6:00 tomorrow then.”
“Great!” She gave out a deep sigh. He could see her shaking her head. “This is one of those bankers. He’s probably driving here but it wouldn’t surprise me to see a helicopter arrive at Eagles Nest.”
Catching her before she said goodbye, he quickly asked, “Do you know who is buying all of that land on the east side of the highway, across from Eagles Nest?”
“Yes. Why?”
He felt a little devious, but it wasn’t going to be a lie. “Is it the same people who are selling the land in Eagles Nest?”
There was a long pause before she answered. “Yes, that is public information, although maybe hard to find for the average person. But anybody with a real estate license could access the records easily.”
“Thank you, Claire. See you tomorrow.”
“Yes, see you tomorrow.” She did not hang up immediately, as if waiting for an explanation, but Joseph figured that was enough for now.
One door closes, another one opens…hopefully.
The reporter’s hat called out to him, but he knew he must write the article to go along with Don’s ad and send them both to Mr. Franklin.
And so he took the notes that Don had given him and converted them into something resembling a news story. Everything was very objective and in the style of news reporting, just the facts.
By 4:00 he had written the article, scanned the sketch of the ad into his computer, and was emailing both to Mr. Franklin.
Only then could he put on his reporter’s hat (actually a Choctaloosa Panthers cap) and think about what he had learned at lunch.
He couldn’t really talk about the confidential stuff with his parents. That would be breaking his word. It would also put them in the bind of knowing and not being able to tell anyone or do anything.
How much did Claire know? Surely she was unaware of the solar panel farm. If the transmission lines go south, their footprint might squish her house! And what additional information could she provide that could turn things around? At most, she would only have the same confidential information that Gil’s friend at The Community had shown to Gil. And she would be bound by confidentiality, also.
He could at least see what Mr. Franklin knew about Eagles Nest. And why didn’t he have more info about it in The Bee.
An internet search for “Eagles Nest Choctaloosa County” had only a handful of hits. One was a very short article in the business section of an Atlanta newspaper. The Zillow website showed lots for sale with prices, and the sales of four lots in Eagles Nest, all in 2021, but did not show the prices.
Joseph texted Mr. Franklin: “Can we talk about Eagles Nest when it is convenient for you?”
He had only a couple of minutes to wait for the reply: “Tomorrow at 9:00 will be good.”
Joseph sent back, “I’ll be there.”
It was too late to go anywhere, so Joseph just looked at the internet some more concerning Community Valley and a map of the area where the solar panel farm would be.
Maybe he could see Gil after talking with Mr. Franklin tomorrow. He dialed the free directory assistance number and got the office number for Equity Financial in New Deal.
He called and Gil answered in a solid professional voice, “Equity Financial. Gil Templeton. How may I help you?”
“This is Joseph Crispin. I’m really interested in what’s going on up there near Community Valley. Could we talk tomorrow?”
“Sure. Let me see. The morning is full and I was thinking of going up to visit a friend in Community Valley in the middle of the afternoon. You want to ride up there with me?”
“That would be great. You going to see your friend, the General Manager?”
Gil laughed. “No, I have found another friend up there. I’m bringing her down here for the evening, so there will be three on the ride back.”
“You sure I won’t be in the way?”
“Not at all. Come about 3:00 and we’ll be back before 6:00.”
Ace reporter stymied by lack of transportation!
“Uh, I’m not sure I can make it. I won’t have a car tomorrow, and have to ride my bike, I have to be back in New Deal at 6:00 for dinner with some friends and then get home in the dark on a bike on the highway and…”
Gil interrupted. Give me your address and I’ll pick you up at 2:45 and get you back home before 5:30. Will you have a way to get to your dinner?”
“Yes. A car will be available for me by then. Thanks for coming to get me.” And he gave his address and hung up.
Ever think about getting an appointment book? Not until now!
Checking a couple of social media sites for messages and news took him to dinner time.
Wednesday morning, his mother left before 9:00 for her visit with a friend and their trip to Montgomery.
Another morning on the 2-wheeler!
Joseph took off on his bike just after his mother had left. A few minutes later, he leaned his bike against the offices of The Bee, Mr. Franklin’s converted garage.
Inside, the editor was at his computer. Any photo of Barney Franklin would have to be in this pose. Come to think of it, Joseph wondered how much the man ever moved at all.
“Interesting articles you sent this morning, Joseph. Perhaps the theme of this week’s paper should be scarecrows. Had any more ideas?”
Joseph had completed the articles on the scarecrow yesterday. They were ancient history, it seemed. He had moved on to Eagles Nest and really did not want to look back. He was on his one track, and the scarecrow was now on an old track.
Captain, is the light always forward? Yes, Mr. Sulu. Value what is behind, but remember: it is behind and there is no going back. Keep the light in front of you.
“No, sir. Nothing new on scarecrows. I was curious about Eagles Nest and The Community and whatever is happening up there.”
Mr. Franklin turned to give his full attention to Joseph, his forehead projecting waves of wrinkles in puzzlement at the abrupt change of subject.
“What is so important about Eagles Nest?”
Joseph could not tell if it was a newsman’s instinct or simple curiosity that prompted the question, but he realized he had come on too strongly. He should not overplay his hand. Note: Learn more about how to play poker.
“I just saw the ads for the lots. When I compared pricing with homes in the area, they looked ridiculously high.”
“You’re probably not familiar with gated communities, are you, Joseph.” The statement sounded like the wisdom of the sage imparted to the unknowing youth.
Joseph could only move forward. “I just thought you would know why the most remote part of Choctaloosa County would be a good place for a gated community. It seems like there must be some catch.”
A Great Thought occurred to Joseph as a response. “You taught me about WII-FM. What is in it for them?”
Mr. Franklin was clearly relieved to be back in charge, showing the path to enlightenment as he leaned back in his chair with his hands folded across his belly.
“You’ve answered your own question, haven’t you? Gated communities in the cities provide beautiful surroundings and security in the midst of luxury. Why not find the same in nature, a retreat from the busyness?”
Joseph could see he was not going to get anywhere, but something (a reporter’s persistence) pushed him forward.
“Is that the story then: Who is buying and why, getting the perspective of the people buying those lots?” (There you go, Mr. Woodward. You’re back!)
He felt like he was on a roll. “And who is it that is selling those lots?
“And what else do they own?
“And how does this fit with The Community? They seem like very unlikely neighbors.”
Mr. Franklin now leaned forward, his eyes and words fixed squarely on Joseph.
“The real estate company is continuously placing ads, so there is not a customer here for you, Joseph. You did well on Don’s Hardware. The ad and the article will be in the next edition. Will you go and find some more like Don’s? Eagles Nest and The Community are not going to be providing you with any sales commissions.”
The dismissal of everything that mattered to Joseph at this moment in time was an unexpected blow. Why didn’t the editor of the only newspaper in the county see the potential here for a big story?
Mr. Franklin continued. “And I liked the idea for a scarecrow competition. That was a good idea.
“Tell you what I am going to do. The commission for Don’s ad will be paid the week after it is printed, as we agreed. But,” he said reaching into his bottom drawer and pulling out a cash box, “I believe I ought to reward you for last week’s article on delivering the baby, and this week’s article on the scarecrow.”
He counted out $50 from the cash box and handed it to Joseph.
“Those articles weren’t really part of the deal, but you wrote well and I know people liked the first one. I think they’ll like what’s in the next edition. This is appreciation for what you have done.”
Mr. Franklin stretched out his hand holding the cash as he continued.
“But I’m not guaranteeing anything for future articles except the ones that you write to go with an advertiser’s first ad. Advertising is your focus, Joseph. That’s where the money will be for you.”
Did Woodward and Bernstein ever accept money and agree NOT to report? Did Walter Cronkite just turn his back on a story because it was time for a TV commercial? It’s about your character, Joseph! It’s about what a reporter does: report the news that affects the community.
As he accepted the money, Joseph replied, “Thanks for the advice and the money, Mr. Franklin.”
The reporter often has to do his own work, keeping his newspaper in the dark to protect them from liability while he pursues the investigation on his personal time.
“Guess I’ll just go see who our next new advertiser will be. Have a good day, Mr. Franklin.”
He offered his hand. The old editor accepted it, knowing he had kept his new employee focused on the correct path.
Not yet 9:30. He texted Kevin about doing something. Kevin replied not today, he had an interview at Auburn about a part time job while at college.
So, a snack and maybe learn something on the internet about solar power….
And so Joseph spent from 10:00 until after 1:00 going down one rabbit hole after another as his research broadened into climate change and what to do (if anything) about it. The amount of information by various types of experts on both sides of almost every issue made the attempt at understanding seem almost futile.
While having a sandwich, chips, and a cold drink, he made a list of some of the elements that seemed legitimate concern:
- There is no one single source of the climate change problems
- CO2 emissions increase as poorer countries grow economically
- Plastics that do not degrade are a global problem
- Nuclear waste still has no solution
- Chemical additives to the soil, water, and food have effects across all species
- Modern lifestyles are the problem; petrochemicals, plastic, toxins, etc. are symptoms
- Does a solar panel farm have good or bad effects in the big picture?
- Is it the duty of the reporter to answer the question or to give the facts and to ask the reader to answer the question?
He decided to check out the Equity Financial website before Gil arrived.
The site was very professional. The pages were clean, not a lot of excess wording cluttering the page. There was a slide show, pictures on each slide along with bullet points on services, and a satisfied customer quotation.
The first was “Gilbert Templeton, My friends call me ‘Gil,’” at his desk with an open collar and a sports jacket welcoming the viewer.
Next slide was Gil sitting at a dining room table, a young couple’s gaze following his finger to a laptop screen.
Then Gil looking up at a man on a tractor (don’t you love that John Deere green!).
There were several more, and finally a picture with a farmhouse in front, part of a barn to one side and a corn crop on the other side. “Home is where the heart is,” were the only words on the screen.
Very nice!
The Community’s Viewpoint
He changed into a clean shirt and jeans and went out to the front porch. He had to wait only a minute for Gil to drive up in a white Jeep Cherokee.
Gil was in slacks and a polo shirt with, yes, a John Deere cap.
Joseph climbed in the front and they headed north to The Community.
“You have a girlfriend up here, right?” Joseph asked.
“Yeah. She’s a teacher. She also happens to be the sister of the GM’s wife. We see each other several times a week. Been doing this maybe six months or so. She wants to stay near the school at The Community, and I would rather find a house that was more in the open. The atmosphere just seems a bit close there, like living in a countrified city.
“Aren’t you living in a countrified city now?” the observer in Joseph’s mind asked quietly. Joseph let it pass.
“What about you, Joseph? Is there a love interest in your life?”
Another one of those questions people ask when they want to know what you’re going to do with your life. Well, here goes.
“I was going with Ginny – Virginia – most of senior year. She has a full scholarship to Emory and will be pre-med. So she’ll be in Atlanta, and I wasn’t ready to commit to college, probably wouldn’t have been out of state anyway. It just didn’t seem like it was going to work out so we broke it off a couple of months ago.”
“Sorry to hear about that. Sounds like you two were not really headed the same direction.”
“Yeah, that’s true. And I can’t say I was that broken up about it. It just leaves a bit of a hole though, you know?”
Gil laughed. “Yeah, I know. I hope you don’t experience marriage and then the breakup.”
“Not likely any time soon…seems like everybody is in a relationship, or in transition to college, or to the military, or to somewhere else away from here.”
Gil switched topics. “I went ahead and set it up with my friend, Nate Johnson, the General Manager. I just told him I wanted to introduce him to a new friend, who happens to sell advertising for the local weekly, but just a social visit.”
“Great! I won’t mention anything about what you shared with me, of course, but I am interested in his experiences here. Sounds like he is a big fan of the concept of a community living within nature instead of outside of nature.”
”Yeah, that’s a good way to put it.”
They passed through New Deal and went past the Jacobs’ turnoff. Joseph hadn’t been this far north on the highway very often, so he just took in the scenery.
Closer to The Community, there were contractors along the west side of the road working on a trench.
Gil said, “You can see where they’re upgrading the water system. The demand will be enough that they have had to put in larger pipes to accommodate the projected growth.”
They passed the new road that had been cut into the Eagles Nest development. The entrance had two curved fieldstone walls leading the eye toward a road walled with trees, the fresh asphalt disappearing as it curved into the forest.
Bold letters proclaiming “Eagles Nest” stood out in relief against both walls, an eagle at the end of its flight preparing to land atop each sign. The effect was inviting.
Gil pointed to the dirt road coming from the right a little further ahead. “Nothing has been done yet on this side of the highway. But that is the future home of the solar farm.”
The trees were thick at first, mostly pines, but quickly yielded to grassy fields that looked equally good for farming or cattle.
Joseph commented. “I know a realtor who mentioned that this land was purchased by the same people who purchased the property that is now Eagles Nest.”
“I’m very surprised!” said Gil. “I thought that was not published information.”
“Apparently it falls under ‘Public Records’ when real estate is sold and bought.”
Gil took his eyes off the road and looked at Joseph a couple of times. “Joseph, I am impressed. Disguised as an advertising salesman, you will be very effective as a reporter.”
“It’s all about who you know, isn’t it,” Joseph smiled.
The entrance to The Community was now right in front of them…and it was noticeably less dramatic than the entrance to Eagles Nest.
A white billboard with bold black letters announced, “The Community.” A smaller sign stated, “Welcome Center ahead on right.”
“I’ll give you a quick tour and then we can visit with Nate. We’ll go backwards and end up at his office.”
They took a left. His hands still on the steering wheel, Gil nodded toward the first building on the right. “That’s the Community Center, for residents’ meetings and events. Like most buildings, it is made almost entirely from recycled materials. Materials like lumber, brick and steel beams can be salvaged from places being torn down. A little clean-up work and it’s all quite serviceable.”
There were few trees close to the building and solar panels adorned the roof.
As they passed beyond the center, Gil pointed with his hand still on the wheel. “There are several round houses, like the one on the left. They are more energy efficient. And variations on the log cabin design, like the one on the right, are common. The wood is either from other buildings that have been torn down and brought here, or from trees cleared to allow for the building.”
Trees were everywhere, the buildings just nestled among them. There were some grassy areas, but nothing like what you would call a lawn. The tree foliage kept out the heat of the June sun around the houses. Some homes with more exposure had solar panels, but the shaded ones had none.
“I see some homes have solar panels.”
“Yeah, and some don’t because the amount of sun that gets through the canopy would not make it worth the investment. The panels and their installation are still pretty expensive, and 7 of the 10 largest suppliers are in China, only 1 in the U.S. It is an evolving technology at the moment.
“There are several small arrays of solar panels producing energy for the business sector here. Their excess is sold to the power companies. It’s not large, but it offsets some of the electrical power consumed in the development.
“The cabins have great insulation in the thick wood walls. I could bore you with a lot of details, but I’ll leave that to Nate.”
They drove in silence until near the end of the tour. The guest cabins and an impressive hotel were within sight of the Welcome Center. The office building and a large maintenance building were set back behind the Welcome Center, hardly noticeable from the main road. Gil turned into the driveway curling behind the Welcome Center.
Nate’s office was nice, but purely functional with no attempt to impress anyone. He gestured to the chairs, and his two guests sat across the fairly clean desk from Nate.
Nate was used to talking with visitors unfamiliar with The Community and its values and began what sounded like a well-rehearsed monologue. He concluded several minutes later by asking if Joseph had any questions.
Joseph could not resist the obvious. “Gil pointed down the road into Eagles Nest and said there was a gated community being developed there.”
Nate immediately looked uncomfortable and Gil interceded. “I told Joseph that The Community had always practiced the ideals of conservation and has sought to instill those principles in the business and political leaders who visited here for conferences or just out of curiosity.”
Nate took the opportunity to shed a more positive light on the statement that Joseph had made.
“Yes, The Community lives what it teaches. When others seek to use that teaching, it can become a two-edged sword as they adopt some but not all of the ideals espoused.”
“I can see how that could happen,” Joseph agreed. “I visited here 5 or 6 years ago on a school trip and was very impressed. Before coming today, I reviewed your website. The Community is an amazing blend of an ideal living in reality.”
“That’s what we try to do,” agreed Nate, more at ease with the conversation.”
Joseph commented again rather than asking a question. “I have a friend in the real estate business who said a large parcel of land recently was sold on the other side of the highway, across from Eagles Nest.”
Nate cast a sideways glance at Gil, who shrugged and said, “Apparently it is public information.”
Nate was not interested in opening that can of worms and tried to move away from it.
“Yes. We cannot control what occurs beyond our property lines. We are good at what we do and will continue to focus on what we can control.”
“I’m sure you are familiar with New Deal, where Gil lives, and probably with Corn Maize, where I live. Is there anything occurring up here that is going to impact us in a negative way?”
This time, Nate looked directly at Gil, then back at Joseph.
Gil spoke into the awkward silence following Joseph’s direct question. “I did not think anyone knew about the other property that was sold, but at least one real estate agent and Joseph are aware.” He shook his head and said, “It’s going to become public knowledge at some point anyway. That is inevitable.”
Nate nodded, then turned to Joseph.
“This is still confidential. You saw that we have solar panels on many of our buildings, pretty much wherever it is practical. That is a small positive, but by no means a solution to our environmental woes.
“The critical issue is that we have reduced our need for power at the same time that we have used an alternative energy source for what we do use. We have changed how we live to be more in harmony with nature.
“Globally, alternative power sources such as solar, wind, geothermal, and such, have very limited potential at this time. And that is for a variety of reasons, such as inconsistent generation and the inability to store energy cheaply for future use.
“Even worse are the carbon credits being ballyhooed by the biggest abusers of our planet. Essentially, they are saying they will cut power in one place to offset a rise in another place. It’s just smoke and mirrors, transferring money from one pocket to another.”
Joseph could tell Nate was just getting warmed up. For himself, Joseph felt like he had led a sheltered life in Corn Maize. None of the things associated with climate change seemed to have affected Choctaloosa County. It all seemed like a movie, and he and his friends and family were just part of the audience.
Nate hardly paused for a breath as he continued.
“They will plant trees in one place to soak up carbon dioxide while destroying trees in another place.
They will put the burden on primitive societies to protect land sequestered into government protected zones, taking away their ability to produce food.
And they will require the lives of consumers everywhere to be reduced to a minimal quality of life while they jet around to conferences and blow hot air.”
He smiled for the first time. “The hot air of political promises is a major contributor to increased carbon dioxide and climate change.”
Gil interrupted before Nate could continue. “I think Joseph gets the point.”
Nate had stood up while making his points and now returned to his chair.
“We have been trying to figure out how to stop the approval process for a large solar panel farm on that land. While we applaud the use of solar, the current political atmosphere means that any increase in solar will simply help to perpetuate the increase in industrial growth based on energy usage. There will be no reduction of climate change to the planet unless these investments in alternative energy are matched with means of decreasing demand from sources that further damage nature.”
He remained calm but firm as he spoke. “We need for industry to stop its assault on the land, water, and air with chemical fertilizers, pesticides and herbicides; toxic metals like lead and mercury; pharmaceuticals that perpetuate disease rather than create health; processed foods lacking nutrition and adding chemicals; and….”
He stopped once again. “The Destination may have been a noble experiment. Eagles Nest helps to perpetuate the problem and demonstrates our failure.. And that is my sermon for the day, although cut short.”
“The Community is like an embryo ready to bring forth a new plant, but we find ourselves in a toxic garden,” said Gil, for the first time identifying himself with Nate’s cause.
“You will hear spokespersons for the status quo calling for Nature-based Solutions. NbC will be the new acronym. As Nate says, when you look beneath the surface, it is just smoke and mirrors, a little sleight of hand to pick government pockets, that is to say, our pockets.”
Joseph was amazed that what he had thought was a simple statement had engendered such a response. As when Gil had spoken passionately at Dell’s over lunch, Joseph was again surprised at the extent of the arguments he had heard and could scarcely take it all in. This isn’t what he heard when he watched the nightly news!
“But isn’t exposing all of this to the public, bringing it out into the light, the best way to fight it?”
“And what media will present the facts about this?” Nate smiled. “What? Shall we put it in The Choctaloosa Bee?”
“If we can’t save the world, could we at least save Choctaloosa County?” Joseph asked. He knew it sounded pretty lame, but doing nothing was not an acceptable alternative.
There was dead silence for several seconds after Joseph’s statement.
Gil broke the silence. “What Joseph just said is what you have mentioned before, just using different words, Nate. The Community offered the movers and shakers a sanitized nature, and they could not appreciate it. At the same time we were trying to change the world, was it really changing us?
“We have tried the top down approach, trying to change the perspective of the people running the circus. Maybe we should have been working among the crowd.”
Nate’s anger had cooled, but it had been replaced by a look of despondence, even hopelessness, as if the energy had been sucked from him like air from a balloon.
“We need to get Bruce back and have a council meeting,” Nate said, looking at Gil. “The situation has been deteriorating for weeks as we have learned what is happening right on our doorstep. This is something we need to address internally so that The Community can present a united front.”
This thought seemed to reinvigorate him.
“Bruce will be back Friday. I’ll talk to him tonight and set in motion a council meeting for this weekend. We can decide what to do from there.”
“Right,” said Gil. “This is an issue on which there must be unity. Now, having spoiled your afternoon, is there anything else we can do while we are here?”
To Joseph he added, “Bruce Denton is the chairperson of the council.”
Nate laughed. “This moment was inevitable, just part of the process, the ongoing exchanges that we have had internally. Future discussions will have to include more than just Bruce, me, and a select few. We need to be more open and proactive, get more people involved.
“I’ll try to give him a call now. Are you going to see Carol?”
“Yeah, I told her I would swing by and pick her up,” looking at his phone for the time,”…about now.”
“Carol Wesley is Nate’s sister,” Gil explained to Joseph.
Joseph had one last question. “You talk like Bruce runs everything. Is he in charge?”
“No, he is an important part of the council, and it is the council collectively who is in charge. But Bruce has become the face of The Community to the outside world. As a matter of fact, his trip to Atlanta was to visit with a lawyer we keep on retainer, someone more in the flow of the legal world than our own resources who can advise us on situations like those we have been discussing.”
Joseph nodded and said, “Thanks.”
Nate stood and held out his hand to Joseph. “Good to meet you. I am glad we can count on your support.”
“Sure,” Joseph responded, shaking his hand.
“See you later, Nate,” Gil said as he turned with Joseph to the door. Nate gave a partial wave as he reached for the phone on the desk.
Joseph and Gil did not speak until they were back in the Jeep.
“Wow! That was…interesting!” said Joseph, not sure what word to describe what had just happened.
“That is an understatement. I knew things would have to come to a head soon. I just didn’t know we’d be there when it started. Being a fly on the wall at the council meeting – now THAT would be interesting!”
There was only a short distance to Carol’s house. Gil explained it actually belonged to Nate and his wife, and Carol had a room and bath of her own. She had lived there for over a year. Divorced and tired of teaching in an urban school system, she had come here for a fresh start.
As Gil got out of the car, he said, “I’ll just be a minute.” The house door opened quickly after he knocked. Carrying a small travel bag, Carol came outside, giving Gil a quick kiss before proceeding to the Jeep.
After introductions, Gil began to tell Carol about the meeting with Nate. She was obviously aware of the background information.
At the end, she said, “I agree that it was bound to reach a crisis point eventually. We are fighting forces a lot stronger than we are. Getting additional popular support is about the only way we have even a chance of preserving The Community and what we have.”
Joseph picked up on the last comment. “Gil says you’ve been here a year, that you came down to teach. It sounds like you are really committed to what The Community is doing.”
As with Joseph’s statement to Nate concerning the property across from Eagles Nest, this statement prompted a lengthy response from Carol.
She touched on some of the difficulties in teaching in an urban school system: large classes, standardized testing, the need for everyone to move at the same slow speed, and covering topics that did not seem appropriate for school, among others.
And then she launched into all of the benefits of teaching in The Community. “I teach a combined 3rd and 4th grade class. I still have to be sure they can pass the standardized tests, but how we get there is pretty much up to me, within reason.
“One of the great things is that we have classes that involve learning not only by hearing the teacher and seeing the words in a book, but by actually doing. In addition to traditional things like math and English, I am responsible for a class called “Shop,” basically a DIY class. And in early fall and late spring we have projects outside.
“In those last two areas, I found there were a couple of kids who are better at it than I am and they became the teachers. You have no idea what it means when the ones who don’t do well in academics can take the lead on more concrete subjects and the smart kids are learning from them.”
“Tell him your observation about the individual and the community,” said Gil.
“Yeah, there is this beautiful tension in all of us between being a unique individual and being a social creature, just one among many. Some kids are on one extreme or the other, but most are somewhere along the spectrum in between. It is great to be able to help them think for themselves and then to share ideas and work toward a community consensus.”
“The tension between liberals and conservatives – and they may line up differently on different issues – is a positive thing allowing a broader perspective to be considered.”
Carol had talked excitedly about these positives and summarized her conclusion about the time they reached Corn Maize. “The task of helping a student to prepare to be a productive and fulfilled individual and at the same time be a member of the community….” She laughed. “I mean the larger world community, actually seems possible here.“
As they approached Joseph’s house, Gil said, “And there’s your education on education. You and I probably cannot attend the council meeting since we don’t live there, but I will ask Nate anyway. I’ll let you know.”
Joseph thought Carol’s description of the balance between the individual and the community fit Choctaloosa County pretty well.
After the goodbye’s, Joseph went into his house. 5:35. Time to freshen up a bit and head to Claire’s. Funny how it had switched from being “Dinah’s” to “Claire’s” house.
Dad wasn’t home and when his mom asked about his day, he just said, “Good. And Gil, the guy I met at the diner, gave me a ride.” He didn’t add where, hoping he could save the explanation for both parents at the same time.
He quickly added, “Remember I’m going to have dinner with Dinah and Claire? Still OK for me to have the car? I’m going to get cleaned up.”
Ten minutes later, as he was trying to leave, she asked about where he had gone.
He kissed her on the cheek and said, “Long story. It’s been one of those days, but at least I haven’t delivered any babies yet. I’ll tell you and Dad when I get back.” And he was out the door.
Some “Now” Moments Claire opened the door as Joseph arrived right at 6:00. “Dinah’s feeding Chloe now,” Claire said. “Maybe she’ll be able to join us soon since Chloe will likely go to sleep.”
“We can sit down and talk a little while we wait. Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ah! The ma’am just slipped out. Old habits die hard.
He sat in the chair beside the sofa and looked at the pictures on the wall while he waited. It was a little like looking through the family photo album all in one glance.
She came in with his tea and a glass of her own and sat on the couch.
He realized how thirsty he was and took a long sip. “Sounded like you had some news when you called yesterday. Oh, and did the buyer actually buy the lot?”
“Not yet on the lot, but still a real possibility. More hoops,” she smiled.
“As to news, guess who is heading up the investor group that is selling the property in Eagles Nest and the land across the highway?”
Joseph paused for only a second before answering with a question. “Your husband?”
“Yes. Turns out he set up Choctaloosa Realty as the agent knowing I would get the proceeds. He thought ‘we’ were getting the commissions, but he received the notice of divorce today. I thanked him for allowing ‘me’ to get the commissions when he called today after receiving the papers.”
“It all gets more and more interesting, doesn’t it!” said Joseph. “I guess that you also know about the solar panel farm intended for the land, but you could not disclose it.”
“Yes,” Claire confirmed. “How did you find out?”
“The folks at Community Valley know.” He then gave a summary of his visit with Gil Templeton and Nate Johnson.
“What are your thoughts on the solar panel farm, Claire?”
“I really know little about the technology. I keep hearing that is the wave of the future.”
Joseph gave Nate’s negative perspective as best as he could remember it.
Claire considered the comments for a couple of minutes, her tea still untouched on the coaster on the coffee table. Joseph took the last sip of his.
“If Samuel Jacobs is involved, he has figured an angle to ensure he profits. Since this is the third house he owns at the moment – hopefully he will be down to 2 when the divorce finalizes – I must admit that I have benefitted.”
She did finally take a sip of the tea. “But based on what I know of him now, I will probably find myself on the opposite side from him on any issue.”
“Do you think he will contest your divorce suit?”
“I doubt it. We may quibble over the details, but my request was very reasonable. I really don’t want what is his to taint my future. I told him that if he gets nasty, I can beat him at that game!”
Dinah came in with Chloe in her arms at that moment.
“Hey, Joseph! How are you? She’s about to fall asleep but I thought I would show her off.”
Joseph got up and looked at the tiny bundle. Only the face was showing, a still very small face with heavy eyes that could hardly stay open.”
“She looks like she is doing great, ready for a good sleep.”
“Yeah, she’s doing great, aren’t you little girl?” She rocked her arms as she spoke.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said to her mom, then looked at Joseph, as well.
Claire was already up, heading toward the kitchen as Dinah left. “I’ll set out the food. It’s been kept warm.” Joseph went back to the picture gallery while he waited.
When Dinah came back to the entrance from the front hallway, she said, “Come on into the dining room,” and turned that direction. Joseph followed.
The dining room table was square with four chairs. There was room for it to be extended and two more chairs against the far wall. Claire had set the plates of baked chicken, mashed potatoes, Cole slaw and rolls in the center of the three place settings.
Claire indicated a seat for Joseph across from Dinah while she took the seat closest to the kitchen. Dinah moved the tall table centerpiece between her and Joseph slightly toward the unused end of the table.
As he sat down, Joseph noticed that Dinah was wearing loose fitting jeans. The white shirt with buttons down the front had long sleeves rolled up loosely toward the elbow. She looked comfortable. Somehow she seemed to be more herself than when he had seen her standing at her locker in her school clothes the previous fall.
And how is it that she can she look more like herself? Did she look like somebody else? Yes, actually, back then she looked a lot like every other cheerleader.
Dinah must have noticed him looking and said, “This is my nursing outfit, not particularly fashionable,” and took her seat.
“I don’t think either of us needs a fashion contest at this point. Functional works pretty well.”
She smiled in appreciation.
Claire told Joseph to take some chicken and then serve himself from each of the other plates and start passing them around. As their plates were filled, she told Dinah the gist of the conversation with Joseph to bring her up to date.
“So what is the next step?” asked Dinah?
Joseph looked at Claire who nodded back to him.
“That’s a good question. If The Community council wants to fight it, we’ll at least have their resources. Maybe there is something in the contract for the land they sold, but they have reviewed it and don’t think so. It only covers Eagles Nest anyway.
“Nate said that no major news outlet would take our side against what would be considered an environmentally beneficial project. Putting an article in The Bee isn’t going to arouse the masses and stop a project worth hundreds of millions of dollars.
“There is an approval process that has to be done, but there is no reason to think that the agencies that could stop it will have any reason not to approve it.
“So unless we can find something else, I think life here is about to change drastically.”
Joseph was starving and started eating at the end of his depressing monologue. Claire picked up from there.
“Have you seen the land, Joseph? If not, maybe we could all ride out there tomorrow if Dinah and Chloe are up for a field trip. Just to look at it and see what we are talking about.”
Joseph shrugged and said, after swallowing, “OK with me.” He looked at Dinah.
She gave a half-hearted smile. “I haven’t been out with Chloe, and don’t know how that’s going to go.”
“Nonsense,” said her mom. “You both have to get out sometime. I got a car seat for her, so we can try it out.”
“I won’t have access to a car, but I can bike here. What time?”
“How about 8:00. We’ll at least avoid the hottest part of the day.”
“What is there to see out there, Mom?” Dinah was not pleased to be pushed.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Claire. “Maybe an Indian burial ground or an endangered species. Who knows?”
A faint cry came from the hallway to the bedrooms. By the time Dinah had risen, Chloe’s call had become much more insistent. For some reason, he thought about Jerry singing with Dorothy in the cornfield.
Claire made some comments about the weather forecast for the next few days, but Joseph’s mind was elsewhere.
After a moment, Dinah came padding back down the hall. Chloe was crying and Dinah was stroking her back, from the bottom of the spine upward. The cries were not getting weaker.
“She seems to be uncomfortable and will not be able to go to sleep. I just came to say good night for both of us.”
At that moment, Chloe gave a loud burp. Her crying ceased almost immediately.
“Or maybe we’ll both just sit here and finish dinner,” Dinah laughed. She sat back down holding Chloe in her left arm.
“Something really interesting,” she said, “is how Chloe just seems to be focused on the moment. She was uncomfortable because we didn’t get all of the air out of her stomach with the first burp, and she cried to let me know. Now she is content to go to sleep. She has no worry about what happened a few minutes ago, or what will happen when she wakes up.”
She was gently rocking her child, looking into her half closed eyes. “It takes all of her energy just to be in this moment. There is no clock. She is focused on each second, aware only of the present, laying the foundation for who she will become.”
Dinah began to eat using her free right hand. She looked very comfortable with it all.
Joseph thought that her comments were very profound and could think of nothing to say. Claire apparently felt the same, finally asking Joseph, “What have you been working on since the article last week?”
Joseph thought it a good time to tell about his visit with Jerry, the basis for the article that he thought would appear in The Bee on Friday.
They talked about that for a few minutes, particularly, Jerry’s conclusion to the story.
“Yes, I was thinking about that while listening to Chloe cry. We come into the world and it is all about us at that moment. As we grow up, we find it is less and less about us. Maybe at the end, like with Jerry saying that it is all about Jesus, about God, we find out it was never really about us at all.”
He finished off his chicken and had a sip of tea. Dinah and Claire were just looking at him. He self-consciously wiped his mouth with his napkin.
After that brief silence, Claire said, “Each ‘me’ is a ‘you’ to somebody else.” She looked at Dinah. “Except maybe for a mother and her child.”
She looked at Joseph. “I think you’re right, but it’s a hard lesson. I don’t think many of us have the humility of Jerry to come to that conclusion.”
Dinah was rocking Chloe gently, her eyes now on a blank space of tablecloth, her mind elsewhere.
Field Trip
The next morning promised another Alabama summer day. Joseph had breakfast and started off on his bike a little after 7:30. The sun was already warm, but the open breeze on the bike kept it from being uncomfortable.
When he arrived just before 8:00, Claire was on the porch. She rose as he approached.
“Dinah said she and Chloe did not have a good night and she will stay here.” Still standing a little above Joseph on the slightly raised porch, she added, “I don’t think they had any problems. I think she is just afraid to go back out into the world.”
Joseph shook his head. “Yeah, I could see not wanting to go somewhere that she might run into old friends, but this field trip won’t expose her to anything more uncomfortable than a warm day on a dirt road.”
Claire laughed. “You make it sound so inviting! Let’s go,”
They went to her late model Altima, a bright silver with the Choctaloosa Realty logo on the side. The sporty red Celica was parked beside it, probably unused since being rescued from the side of the highway. It did not look like a car that belonged to Dinah at this point in time.
Not much traffic on the highway, they turned right onto the dirt road across from Eagles Nest. It was fairly new, not yet rutted, and not a bad drive aside from the large dust plume hanging in the still air behind the Altima.
After a few hundred yards, the pines gave way to a mixture of grasses and low shrubs with islands of pines or hardwoods. No work was evident other than the road and occasional lines of stakes sporting red tape hanging limply in expectation of a breeze.
They came to a stop, perhaps half a mile from the highway.
Heavy machinery had been delivered to the site, including a couple of bull dozers, a large wood chipper, and dump trucks lined up against a stand of oaks. The machinery looked brand new, more evidence of a well-financed operation.
Joseph had the feeling of being on the Choctaloosa Panthers football team and coming onto the field to find that the opposition was the Auburn Tigers.
“What do we do, Claire?” asked Joseph, feeling a bit overwhelmed.
She was silent for a moment. “I think it’s a good day for a walk. I have found in the real estate business that pictures are good. Got your phone camera with you?”
“Yes,” he said, getting out of the car. They walked from the island of hardwood over to an area of low bushes. As they drew near, he could see the berries, a mixture that was predominantly black but with many branches still holding red clusters. Blackberries were ready for picking, the prickly branches there only protection.
But this was not the day for picking blackberries, even as images of warm crusty blackberry pie topped with ice cream made his mouth water.
They each took a couple of pictures as they walked toward the loblolly tree line at the end of the low brush. Tucked along the line formed by the base of the trees were clusters of other bushes, not identifiable to Joseph.
They were somewhat like miniature corn stalks, the solid stem with long thin leaves spaced up and down its length. The leaves had no stems of their own. Like the corn plant, they wrapped themselves around the stalk for support. But the stalks did not bear miniature corn cobs.
“What are these?” he asked as he reached down to touch the white heads sprouting from the plant. Solid bases at some leaf nodes gave rise to the filaments bearing the grainy white heads. The appearance was something like a plant sprouting old fashioned shaving brushes, complete with a thin white foamy head.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen these,” said Claire as she reached down to touch one.
“Ouch!” she yelped, quickly pulling back her hand. “Those thin stems are loaded with stickers, worse than the blackberry bushes.” She sucked a finger that had started to bleed.
“We have a hostile army of machines invading,” remarked Joseph with a nod toward the machinery, “but the natives are not very welcoming to us, either, are they!”
“I agree.” She aimed her phone from several angles, taking a series of pictures. Joseph did the same from different places.
Their paths diverged, each walking through different sections of knee high grassy areas, through the stands of woods, and along the outside boundaries of the clusters of bushes, taking various pictures as they went.
Occasionally they startled a rabbit or bird or squirrel or some other creature of the field and woods. Some photos would be live action captured in the moment, while the others were just still life pictures.
Yep, there is some irony there: it is still life, alive at least for the time being.
As the sun warmed, they tended more to be taking pictures from the shady spots, looking out and across the fields bathed in the June sun.
The stroll in nature was all quite enjoyable until it wasn’t. They came back together toward 10:00, the sun now on the unpleasant side of warm.
“Tea time?” asked Joseph.
“I suppose,” said Claire, evidently feeling there was something left unfinished here. From beside her car she took a couple of shots of the mechanical arsenal silently waiting to be unleashed on the natural world.
A pickup came toward them from the highway leaving a trail of dust. It came to a stop on Claire’s side of the car. The driver rolled down his tinted passenger side window and leaned toward them.
“You know you are on private property, don’t you?”
“How would we know that?” asked Claire. Pointing back toward the highway, she added, “There were no signs,”
She stepped toward the late model white Silverado. The decal on the door panel read AIM Contractors. “Hi, I’m Claire Jacobs with Choctaloosa Realty.”
“I don’t care who you are, lady. This is private property and I’m asking you to leave.”
“You’ve got a lot of equipment here. What are you going to be doing here? What are you building?”
“I’m just preparing the land. Please leave or I’ll have to call the sheriff.”
“No need to get huffy, Mr….?”
“Leave. Now.” He pointed back to the way he had come onto the property to eliminate any doubt as to the way out.
They got back in the car.
“A bit touchy, wasn’t he!” she commented as they buckled into their seats.
“Yes,” Joseph agreed. “Seems a bit like overkill for people just walking in a field.”
They went back to Claire’s with only a little conversation of what they had seen during the morning.
Dinah was with Chloe in the back room when they arrived. A bath and a feeding had just been accomplished and both mother and child seemed ready for a nap when they came into the living room. Joseph was in his usual chair (getting to feel at home, are we?) while Claire was brewing tea.
“How did the exploration go?” asked Dinah.
Joseph gave her a summary of the rather unspectacular things they had seen and the ungracious command to leave.
The sound of ice being taken from the freezer and plopped into glasses startled Chloe and Dinah said she would see if the little girl would take a nap.
Claire brought large glasses of iced tea including one for Dinah, if she wanted one. Seeing her hands full and her gesture toward a stack of coasters on the coffee table, Joseph spread them out and she put down the three glasses.
“Ah, this is good,” said Joseph as he took a few sips of the cold liquid.
Claire was scrolling through the pictures on her phone, occasionally taking a sip. Joseph decided to review his, as well.
“I don’t see much except what you might see on any plots of countryside in the county. Maybe the fella was just concerned about something happening to his equipment. Or maybe something happening to us and filing a lawsuit.”
“Maybe,” said Joseph noncommittedly, about at the end of his own review.
Dinah entered the room and sat by her mom. She said, “May I see?” and started scrolling through the pictures.
"Pretty serious equipment lined up!” she commented.
A moment later she asked, “What are these bushes with the white heads on those long narrow stems?”
“Not a clue,” said her mom.
“I ask because they look familiar.”
To Joseph, Dinah asked, “Did you have Miss Jackson in the 8th grade?”
“No,” he laughed. “I had the one year wonder, Ms. Meadows.”
“Miss Jackson was big on local history. She had us do a project on the county. We all got divided into teams of 2 to write a report on something pretty specific about the county and then present it to the class.
“I got stuck with Mark, who was pretty much a bookworm, but that actually turned out kinda good because he was good at reports and I was good at talking up front.
“Anyway, Miss Jackson suggested we do a report on Ella B. Mayes’ diary that was written in the 1840’s. The diary was on display in a covered case at the county library, but we could use a typed up copy that some students had done for a project back in the ‘80’s before they locked up the diary.
“It still has the blank places where the writing was illegible or the ink faded, but a whole lot is still there. And there were copies of the drawings Ella B. Mayes had made. Many of them were of the cabins and people, but some were just drawings of trees and plants. One of the drawings said “Grit Bush,” and Mark and I laughed at it.
“But these pictures look a lot like the grit bush in her drawing.”
They all knew the Legend of the Grit Bush. But, of course, everybody knew that there had never been such a plant. Where was the Grit Bush now? There should be at least some fossilized remains or record of it in some archive of some nation in the world, if it had ever existed, that is.
Joseph opened up the pictures again on his phone, and looked at his own images of the bush. He had no idea of what a grit bush would look like.
The possibility was dawning on all three of them that they might have a legal reason to at least stall if not completely stop the solar panel farm.
continued