Commission retreat was treat of sweetness

Oh, gee. Oh, golly. I didn't get to go to the Augusta Commission retreat last week. Imagine my bad luck. I get to witness commissioners at their worst, and then miss the day they're all lovey-dovey.

We had to take our dog Mickey to the small animal hospital at the University of Georgia School of Veterinary Medicine in Athens that day, so reporter Kate Lewis covered the momentous event and did such a good job I might never leave town again.

Kate says that:

- While talking about trust issues among the commissioners, Mayor Deke Copenhaver jokingly asked if they needed to stand and allow a partner to fall backwards into their arms in a trust exercise.

"Let's do it from the roof!" said Carl Maner, the retreat facilitator.

- When asked what commissioners think the Average Joe or Jane thinks about how the commission operates, they replied:

"It doesn't" - Jerry Brigham

"Shameful" - Mr. Copenhaver

"Mean-spirited" - J.R. Hatney

"Ridiculous, dysfunctional, disorganized" were other descriptions that came too fast to record which commissioner said them.

- During a break, Mr. Maner asked, "How's it going so far?"

"Well," replied the mayor. "We're not singing Kumbaya yet, but ..."

- During a breakout session, a TV camera from WAGT-TV moved to get a better angle of one group.

"These pictures going to be sent to Hollywood?" teased Mr. Hatney. "I want you to get my best side."

- On getting commissioners together outside commission chambers: "Shoot, I'd invite everybody over for dinner, but I'd have to invite the press," the mayor joked.

ELEPHANT GRAVEYARD: Kate left me a note about government reformer Woody Merry's stunt of delivering two white elephants.

"They were dropped off at 10:30 a.m., and the Old Government House had a deal to get them picked up and removed by noon," she wrote. "I don't know if the commissioners even saw them, because they were just sitting outside on the lawn. They were about knee high and had green ribbons tied around their necks. There was a manila envelope resting against one of them with this written on it. And I don't know if they even read the letters inside."

"Dear Mr. Mayor,

Please accept these gifts as a donation to our city and accept them in the spirit in which they are given. Enclosed are letters for your attendees today. I am sincere in wishing you the very best in your efforts to bring about change in our city.

CSRA Help

P.S. If you do not wish to accept these on behalf of the city, please call and we will be happy to pick them up."

Kate said the elephants' names are Auggie and Connie.

YOU'RE REALLY IN TROUBLE ... : When you're the laughingstock of the Richmond County school board, but that's apparently the case.

"I just want to say they are undergoing some difficult times," board member Helen Minchew said during her report on the Augusta Commission, but her genuine concern was greeted by a roomful of snickering.

"I just think we need to keep them in our thoughts and prayers," she continued, but again laughter filled the room. "I really am trying not to be funny."

WORDS OF WISDOM: Everybody's talking about the government being dysfunctional, with the commissioners deadlocked on just about every high-profile issue, but City Administrator Fred Russell says the government is going along just fine. Garbage is being picked up. The ambulances are rolling. The police come when they're called.

Maybe we should all just ignore them.

HALF FULL OR HALF EMPTY?: As we passed the mobile homes and old homeplaces on our way to Athens, I said, "Can you imagine all the unhappiness there must be out there?"

My husband, Ernie, said he didn't think about them that way.

"When I see one of those old homeplaces, I think of all the happiness that's been there, all the children running around laughing and playing."

"You do?" I said, thinking I must be warped because of all the bad news I hear. Divorces, child abuse, murder. It's an occupational hazard.

He said I need to tune it out.

Somehow, I don't think that would work.

Anyway, almost all the news last week was bad. Some of it, such as the slain innocents in North Augusta, was unbearable.

Commissioner Andy Cheek was pretty severely burned in a flash fire at his Savannah River Site lab.

And I called my old friend Barbara Dooley to tell her how much I liked Vince's book, Dooley, My 40 years at Georgia, and she told me she had breast cancer and would be starting chemotherapy.

Knowing her, she'll beat it and become the poster woman for pink ribbons.

She's the best thing that ever happened to Vince Dooley, and he knows it.

In addition to everything else Mrs. Personality has done - teaching, writing, having her own radio show and running for Congress - she's now selling real estate in Athens and donating the money she makes to a new Catholic high school they helped build.

GOD'S PALETTE: It looked like the horizon was on fire, all deep orange and blood red, as the sun set last Sunday. Maybe you saw it yourself. I hope so. If you didn't, you probably don't want to hear my description of it, but it was a spectacular show. I wanted to stay outside to witness the finale, then watch the stars come out, but the house needed dusting.

Then I thought, "That dust will be there when I'm dead and gone."

Dead and gone. Mama was always saying things like that. I didn't like to hear it, but everything she ever warned me about turned out to be true. I wish I'd paid more attention. She was years ahead of her time.

This coming Tuesday would have been her 89th birthday.

City Ink thanks Staff Writers Kate Lewis and Greg Gelpi for their contributions to this week's column.

Reach Sylvia Cooper at (706) 823-3228 or sylvia.cooper@augustachronicle.com.