COLUMN: 'What We've Got Here Is ... Failure To Communicate'

*This is an opinion column*

TUSCALOOSA, AL — It's a phrase I've quickly grown to resent when it comes to Northport politics.

"Follow the money."

"Follow the money."

"Follow the money."

Folks quote it to me all the time, ad nauseam, knowing they don't have to explain its origins.

This reporter did indeed follow the money after an internal email was leaked from the Northport City Council last spring showing Council President Jeff Hogg chiding his elected colleagues for bucking the will of developers who we then learned bankrolled the campaigns of two of the five the current council members and Mayor John Hinton, who was a council member for District 3 at the time.

Hogg didn't have to name names. We have the campaign finance records.

As I previously reported, I "followed the money" to the farthest depths of the Tuscaloosa County Probate Court's records, reported my extensive findings that showed the very real impact of mostly a single developer's money on our elected offices, but no one batted an eyelash.

Then again, Northport politics is cheap, as one valued outside background source said, which could explain a lot.

After all, campaign contributions are legal so long as they stay between the lines and, baseline, no one cares, right? It's not worth thinking about that barely 4,000 people cast ballots in the 2020 municipal election, yet Northport is one of the fastest growing cities in the state.

In fact, this reporter showed that Northport developer Ron Turner was the largest benefactor for the overwhelming majority of elected officials and, instead, was called corrupt for allegedly covering for the same elected officials I felt I had just exposed — criticisms hurled by folks who had their over-arching question answered when asking me to "follow the money," but who didn't take the time to read and digest the entire article to receive their answer.

I guess it's true, the old adage that says "if you're having to explain, you're losing."

So, here we are, yet again.

Still, somehow, the big picture story of how the city does business keeps snowballing, especially as the City Council is moving forward with "due diligence" work regarding the future of the Northport Community Center property and its adjoining park.

To be clear for the knee-jerk critics expecting the entire narrative, this is far from THE story, but merely the latest chapter when attempting to chart a specific and troubling pattern of behavior where decisions in Northport are made by the few and not presented to the rest until everyone is preparing for handshakes and a photo op.

No, after a turbulent last few months, which saw former Mayor Bobby Herndon resign, followed by a contentious appointment process to fill the seat of District 3 seat vacated by Hinton as he ascended to the mayor's office, the matter of the community center seemed as though it would flash in the pan and vanish into the ozone without so much as a whimper

That would not be the case.

Instead, I couldn't help but laugh as I stood on the fringes of the council chambers earlier this month as Northport Police officers were summoned to quash an unruly rebellion of a few women and kids holding signs. The entire short-lived battle was overly civil and I lost count of the attendees told to calm down who shook the officers' hands or patted them on the shoulder and thanked them for doing their job before politely sitting down.

A total farce.

And in over a decade of writing about politics at all levels of government across multiple states, I had never seen anything like it — not to mention this grassroots group was flatly denied their right to speak out against the measure for the public record.

As Patch previously reported, Hogg lost his patience with the chatter from the vocal crowd as the rest of the council sat silent. And, without evoking any statute to override the mandated time for public comment, he garnered Council approval to force through a measure that was approved unanimously by the council in favor of allowing Beeker Property Group to conduct due diligence to market the Park Street property over the next 180 days.

Never mind the Request for Proposal (RFP) is titled: "Purchase of the Northport Community Center."

No, friends, this wasn't the sale of property ... it was just an agreement for Beeker Property Group to buy the site.

And never mind that the established covenant with Friends of Historic Northport and the city requires a unanimous council vote in favor to sell the property — but don't forget that all of this comes after District 2 Councilman Woodrow Washington III offered up a first reading of a measure on Monday that would repeal the requirement for a unanimous vote after telling local media outlets he felt "bullied" by those in opposition to the proposed plans for the park and community center.

Still, none of this is what truly irks me.

No, my deep-seated concerns are two-fold:

(1). Calls to preserve the history of the park.

(2). How the City of Northport does business (hint: this is the one that tells the tale)

So, let's start with the history.

In recent days, there have been many on social media who have shared newspaper clippings of when the Northport Community Center and the park first opened.

Without context, the photos aren't unlike anything else you would have seen in the Local section of a community newspaper in a mid-major city from the 50s. But with the benefit of hindsight, along with firsthand accounts from those unwilling to go on record, it's hard not to cringe a bit at the origin story many are seeking to protect — albeit most likely unwittingly.

Indeed, even without the firsthand testimony, just the year the park was first opened — 1953 — is troubling, especially considering the longstanding demographic layout of Northport, with the city's lone predominately Black council district nearby. Also, keep in mind that the following year the decision was handed down in the landmark Civil Rights case Brown v. Board of Education.

It was obviously a different time and I'm not here to point fingers or dredge up certain aspects of history we should move on from. Rather, I'm presenting a viewpoint that is held by many, but expressed by none in Northport due to the expected fears of taking such a public position as a minority group.

No matter the noble intentions of opening the park in its day, the faces in all the newspaper clippings are White and many who grew up in that part of town during that time will testify that, for years, the Community Center and park saw enforcement of segregation for the Black children looking to play.

Is this the history we truly want to preserve? Did many of you even know that?

I grew up in Northport and certainly didn't know it until I sat down and thought hard about the history I was piecing together.

Green space is one thing and, regardless of how the facility is used today, I'm not sure history is the pillar by which we as a community buttress the argument for preservation.

A better gateway to Northport? Sure.

Practicality? Absolutely.

History? Surely we can do better.

But this still isn't my central issue, nor has it been through any of this. It's more of a recent revelation that I think should be factored into the discussions and hasn't until this point.

The glaring problem to this reporter was, is, and will continue to be how the City of Northport is doing business.

You can use any number of clichés and they'd probably apply: Robbing Peter to pay Paul; the right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing; Clown car ... Dysfunctional ... Dumpster fire.

I could go on and on. And others in local politics outside of Northport have said much worse.

Even just sitting in the grandstands with my scorebook, it's been oddball deal after deal — and it's not policy. Northport isn't burning straw men over Critical Race Theory nor are they demanding the Tuscaloosa Public Library on the other side of the bridge purge itself of LGBTQ+ content.

No, it's an approach much harder to oppose among the scrum of dreamers and well-wishers in the community — capital projects with heavy price tags and longterm financial implications.

The proposed aquatic center/water park on McFarland Boulevard; the adventure sports park on Rose Boulevard; extensive improvements to Kentuck Park to turn it into a hybrid world-class youth sports facility and event venue.

The city borrowed a bunch of money to do it, too — in excess of the city's entire General Fund operating budget — just to fund these projects as many accept the nation is hurling headlong into an economic recession. And never mind this gamble on the city's credit rating was given the green light with nothing more than a majority vote of the council and no community input other than what was expressed by elected officials.

Behind the scenes in Northport City Hall, it's far from harmonious and unified at present — with an apparent power struggle at play regarding how the step-by-step business of this deal has been carried out. But that's a story for another day and one that has yet to mature enough for publication. Big picture stuff.

Nevertheless, it highlights sustained dysfunction and a battle of political wills.

Don't be deceived, though, friends. Developers do, indeed, run your city in Northport and control your elected leaders like marionettes. Hell, developers call the shots in most American cities if you really want to talk about runaway capitalism and have a willingness to believe the black and white numbers you see.

But what worries this reporter is what's not being seen — because the details of such have a habit of ending up as the substance of the story I eventually write once the truth comes out.

I consulted with a diverse spectrum of background sources in looking for perspective for this column, but I've been fixated on what one good friend said: "What you're looking for is something you're not going to be able to see or find in a document."

Small-time dark money? Off the books malfeasance?

Of course, I have nothing to substantiate this or the host of other rumors that have spun up in recent weeks. But, what I do know is that, despite being one of the smaller municipal entities I've ever covered, the intricacies in Northport are fused together in a way that is far more deformed and complex to navigate than anything I've seen — that includes the Tuscaloosa City Council and the Tuscaloosa County Commission.

If we're looking for a simple solution, though, the best this reporter can offer up is a reflection on the words of Strother Martin as The Captain in the Paul Newman classic "Cool Hand Luke."

"What we've got here is ... failure to communicate"

One council member laughed at me for calling the elected body a bunch of fascists for denying the folks opposed to selling the park the right to speak during the meeting a couple of weeks ago and it's a position I'll hold to this day.

There are plenty of seemingly scary things in politics that, truly, aren't threatening — empty policy meant solely to intimidate and serve no utility.

But what is scary is when the police are ordered to tell you to sit down and shut up. Apart from policymakers making it harder for one to cast a ballot than easier, I'm not sure there's a bigger political sin when it comes to the sacred relationship between an office-holder and registered voter.

Communication is the ONLY way this issue will be resolved. Not political force or the frothing grassroots will of the people. If either of the sides overwhelmingly prevail over the other without constructive discourse, then someone loses in an embarrassing fashion.

In this reporter's opinion, that's not compromise, nor is it healthy for our community.

I encourage our elected leaders to take the initiative to put their wish-list desires aside for the moment and provide a constructive format for a dialogue over this particular issue.

A 180-day due diligence period is far from comforting to the folks at home when the RFP for the deal says "Purchase of the Northport Community Center."

Ryan Phillips is an award-winning journalist, editor and opinion columnist. He is also the founder and field editor of Tuscaloosa Patch. The opinions expressed in this column are in no way a reflect of our parent company or sponsors. Email news tips to ryan.phillips@patch.com.