COLUMN: The Unraveling Of Northport City Hall

*This is an opinion column*

COLUMBUS, MISSISSIPPI — My phone vibrated in my pocket at least half a dozen times Monday night as I answered questions from high school journalism students at the Mississippi School for Mathematics and Science. I figured if it wasn't someone calling, it must not be that urgent.

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The bright young scholars asked me about challenges in my journalism career and, at one point, I told them the story of my Dad running for mayor of Northport in 2020 and how his decision coincided with me launching Tuscaloosa Patch as a community news outlet that same summer.

This case study in ethics and professionalism brought out laughs as I told the students of how hard it was to keep my mouth shut when supporters of my Dad's two opponents called him all sorts of names on social media. I'm sure the sentiment was returned in kind, but I paid little mind to most of the banter and campaign rhetoric ... other than for a laugh here and there.

I didn't tell them, though, that I was the first person to write an in-depth story on current Mayor Bobby Herndon after his election in the same race to a third nonconsecutive term in office or how I documented him for the first two years of his latest term as the affable, big-hearted mayor of my hometown.

As my portion of the class wrapped up, though, I checked my texts and the students had the opportunity to see what doing the news looks like in real time.

"Mayor Herndon resigned tonight"

I rushed out and topped 100 mph on a dimly lit Highway 82 to get back, where I learned that Herndon had suddenly announced his resignation after not receiving the necessary support earlier in the meeting to rename a stretch of city street in front of his surveying firm — Herndon, Hicks & Associates.

"People say you just quit to get your way and that's not the case," Herndon told me in a phone interview Tuesday morning. "If [the Council] don't want to grant it that's up to them. I love being mayor and they know what I wanted and went out of their way to prevent it."

For months, Herndon has pushed a measure to rename the street "Benevolent Way" to honor the volunteers and generosity shown by Northport residents every time he has collected donations for victims of natural disasters. If you ask members of the Council, however, they were in unanimous agreement that the mayor's request simply didn't meet the criteria on the law books for the city.

This left the Council no other real option but to allow the measure to die without a vote Monday night, lest it give Herndon special treatment that normally would not be extended to the average citizen.

But prior to Monday night, members of the Council had expressed doubts for months, insisting it would only establish a precedent for other mundane or eccentric requests from private citizens.

The city code was updated in January to reflect this criteria, limiting it to individuals and organizations that have had a significant cultural, historical or humanitarian impact on the City of Northport. As stated in the revised ordinance, proposals to name streets for individuals still living or recently deceased shall be "generally disfavored."

Objectively speaking, the only criteria Herndon's request meets at present is that the proposed street designation must have a geographical relationship to the intended location.

"Are we going to have every Tom, Dick and Harry come in here saying they want to name their block after their dead great-great-great grandmama who lived here?" District 4 Councilwoman Jamie Dykes said during a Council Public Safety meeting discussion on the topic in August. "Are we opening that door?"

Still, Herndon insisted to me that he made the formal request before the ordinance was updated and explained that he even submitted a waiver request after the fact.

"Of course me, I never paid any attention to the rules and regulations and thought it would be straightforward and simple," Herndon said. "Then it got to a couple weeks ago and I heard they were going to deny the request because it didn't meet the new regulations. They knew what I wanted to do, so why would they write the regulations that way?"

Herndon went on to say he was also frustrated when he was informed that the only officials that could bring up a street renaming proposal moving forward were members of the Council on behalf of petitioners.

No one can argue that I've given Herndon extensive column inches for his past efforts, primarily because I have had no reason to question his sincerity. The city was and is proud of him for making the long trips to deliver trailer-loads of essential supplies to those in need and I've never had any problem reporting on it so Herndon and those donating could get their due credit.

But when he addressed the Council Monday night, his words sounded less like Mother Teresa and more like Richard Nixon following a failed campaign in 1962, as he flatly told city officials they wouldn't have Bobby Herndon to kick around anymore.

"I appreciate this Council and love them, but I'm sort of hamstrung," Herndon said during the meeting. "This was something that was really going to benefit the people that helped, but if I can't get support on something that simple then I don't need to be mayor."

It was the first time in my journalism career that I've covered an elected official — much less the chief executive of a branch of government — appear to say that they were going to take their ball and go home because they didn't get their way.

Still, Herndon is a man of noted conviction and has been documented by this publication over the last two years trading barbs with other council members over everything from the purchase of a city park early in the term to the Council's decision last year to reject three candidates for the DCH Health System Board of Trustees. Of the DCH Board decision, Herndon chided the Council by calling it a "very anti-Northport thing to do."

So how did a street renaming become the final straw?

It's hard not to immediately ponder what a strange hill it is to spike one's political legacy on, especially considering the name of the small side street bears no real significance to anyone other than Herndon. I'm not here to say whether that's right or wrong, but in my months of reporting on just about every single public debate relating to the topic, there were no citizens to speak out in support, no groups demanding city officials act to rename it ... just the required signatures on a petition.

District 4 Councilwoman Jamie Dykes, a longtime opponent of the measure as previously mentioned, lambasted the mayor in an emotional soliloquy Monday night that began with her saying she was "pissed off" that he would impulsively walk out on the people of Northport who elected him, simply because he didn't get what he wanted.

"For all of the good that you have done, you just negated everything because of a very selfish decision that you made because what you did did not meet policy and our city administrator gave you another option to honor the residents who have helped you," she said. "This was a decision that was made out of haste, it was not thought out and I'm angry."

Dykes declined requests for comment following the meeting.

"I love Jamie with all my heart and she knows that," Herndon told me. "We've been friends and have gone out to eat regularly, but even she wouldn't second the motion. I was lost but I don't know of anything that's going to change it. They went out of the way to get the rules and regulations to go exactly against what I wanted."

More than one city official told me on background that Herndon was even offered a compromise in the form of the creation of the Bobby Herndon Benevolence Award, which he would have been able to give out at the annual Northport Citizens of the Year banquet. This olive branch was followed by District 2 Councilman Woodrow Washington III proposing to table the measure until January 2023, which would give the Council time to revisit the ordinance currently on the books.

But no. Herndon was singularly focused on renaming the street in front of his personal place of business Monday night. It was all to honor the generosity of the people of Northport, he claimed, yet he doubled down on his push to see the street renamed then and there or be voted down by the council ... all compromises be damned.

He then explained to me how the street renaming would have provided a permanent reminder of the tens of thousands of people who have been helped through the city's generosity, claiming that he still gets letters and cards from mayors in towns thanking the city for something it did years ago.

"I don't want my name even mentioned," Herndon said of the proposed award and street renaming. "It's not about Bobby Herndon, it's not about Herndon, Hicks & Associates. They wanted it to where I would recognize one person each year in some kind of formal something and that's not what I want. I want all citizens to be recognized and that would be a lasting monument to that even after I'm gone."

This was the deal-breaker for Herndon, though, and, in this author's opinion, represented a disenchanting end to his time in office because of the potential impact his abrupt resignation may have on his well-deserved political legacy.

And, regardless of intent by either side, the night was also a publicly divisive one with respect to the people of Northport, as the city's top leader opted to walk out over something so seemingly inconsequential in the grand scheme of the current administration's wish-list of projects.

This wasn't the debate over the proposed city school system nor was it the debate to finance and build expensive new tourism amenities. This wasn't about raising property taxes or addressing violent crime.

Never mind that upon assuming office Herndon handed over his appointing authority for the city's Planning and Zoning Commission to the Council in a legal exchange to allow his surveying firm to continue doing business with the city. Without a vote on the Council, he ceded much of his already limited power to the Council himself.

Never mind that he has led the very public charge over the last decade for the city to break away from the Tuscaloosa County School System to form its own city school district. Despite being arguably the most vocal critic of the county school system, Herndon effectively removed himself from the fight Monday night — no doubt dealing a blow to the momentum of the movement he helped start.

And never mind that the people of Northport elected him to the city's highest office.

All of that history aside, though, his resignation the night before a tense General Election will no doubt undermine the public's fragile faith in the institution of City Hall during the rockiest political, social and economic climate the city has ever seen. When Northport needed a leader willing to show grace in the face of adversity, it's hard not to view it as Herndon simply giving up.

One could also reasonably assume Herndon is tired of the squabbling after being a fixture in Northport politics for decades, with Monday's decision on the street renaming possibly representing the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Still, whether frustration or other external factors played any role in his reasoning for announcing his resignation, the theatrics on display in City Hall Monday were simply too out of character to ignore.

The decision was so abrupt, in fact, that city leaders weren't even sure Monday night about what the next steps would be to fill the vacancy once Herndon steps down. Calls to City Attorney Ron Davis — my expert source on these kinds of things — went unanswered Monday night and Tuesday morning.

According to Alabama Code § 11-43-42 (a), though, if the mayor of a city of 12,000 or more residents is unable to serve due to sickness or "any other good reason" such as resigning, the president of the council — in this case District 5 Councilman Jeff Hogg — would be the first in the line of succession to fill the vacancy as mayor pro tempore for the remainder of Herndon's unexpired term.

If the council president, for whatever reason, opts to decline the appointment, then the president pro tempore of the Council, District 3 Councilman John Hinton, would be next in line to serve in the role.

It's unclear exactly how state law will be interpreted or enacted for Northport in this instance, but there seems to be no other scenario that doesn't result in a sitting Council member ascending to the mayor's office. True, there is very little decision-making authority in the mostly symbolic office, which might give Council President Hogg pause when considering the ample time left on his own term to forward his agenda of "Progress You Can See."

Better yet, though, it remains just one of many questions left in the wake of Herndon's hasty decision Monday night. My gut leads me to doubt that the decision was made as impulsively as it was presented — a sentiment corroborated by city hall insiders who mentioned on background that Herndon teased the idea of resigning over the issue well before Monday night.

Still, there seems to be zero room for a change of heart from Herndon in this situation, as the Council voted 3-2 Monday night following Herndon's urging to accept his resignation — a decision that prompted dozens of angry social media comments chastising the Council for accepting his resignation. The Council was also blasted for not simply granting the benign request from the mayor and moving on from such a small matter.

"I don't know the back story and frankly I don't care," said one angry Northport resident in an email to a city council member.

This is where my real problem with the whole situation rests. And sure, maybe this was Herndon's plan all along as I've previously stated, but a prevailing sentiment in a night full of phone calls for this reporter kept circling back to the possibility of Herndon cooling off and requesting that he be allowed to rescind his resignation.

"I feel like I failed in my job to better promote our citizens," Herndon told me when I asked him if he might reconsider his resignation ahead of Dec. 31. "I told myself many years ago if I ever thought I could not do my job for whatever reason, that I would resign and I did."

At this point, it truly does seem that the die is cast and Herndon has crossed the Rubicon — no turning back.

Indeed, these are strange days for Northport and I want to have faith in our elected officials' ability to rally together for the good of the city.

Conversely, one can't help but think back to the exchange between Councilwoman Dykes and Herndon. As Herndon previously stated, the two have appeared to be friends and have always maintained a cordial relationship in the public eye.

But after so much work over the last two years to build this coalition of leaders, the veneer has finally been cracked. At a time when we need unity more than ever in this country, I was disappointed to learn of the erosion of trust and respect in my own City Hall Monday night.

The same toxic behavior we have seen as of late on the national level — regardless of your political affiliation — has now reared its ugly head in our lowest level of government.

Anger, public derision, name-calling, publicity stunts, emotional immaturity, refusal to compromise ... all of which contribute to the visibly waning faith in the institution of Democratic government.

While this reporter has respect for every single individual in Northport City Hall and has maintained trusting relationships with each member of the council and mayor, my chief concern as a citizen is that there will be no lessons learned from this polarizing moment.

Instead, it may only represent the latest chapter in the increasingly rapid decay of respect and trust in local government — at a time when we need true leaders more than ever.

Like just about every facet of our American lives, everything is based in faith — our currency, our religions, our Democratic institutions, etc.

With that in mind, I want to have faith that Herndon's legacy of generosity will not be overshadowed by his snap decision to resign and that the legacy of this Council can become one grounded in a willingness to overcome petty disagreements in order to better serve the folks who elected them.

Ryan Phillips is an award-winning journalist, editor and opinion columnist, in addition to being the founder and field editor of Tuscaloosa Patch. The views expressed in this opinion column are his and not necessarily reflective of those held by our parent company or sponsors.