By Avram Friedman

Receiving public input is not a discretionary part of the decision-making process for elected public officials in North Carolina. It is mandated by law that local elected officials provide the opportunity for public input before making decisions that potentially have a major impact on the lives of people in an affected community (general statute160A-364, “Procedures for adopting amending, or repealing ordinances”).

There was a collective shrug of the shoulders by Sylva Town Council members at their May 21 meeting when presented with clear documentation exhibiting how there was no meaningful notification for the April 16 public hearing on modifying the zoning ordinance to accommodate the expansion of Jackson Paper. The Town Council voted to amend the ordinance at that same meeting, immediately following the “hearing” at which no one attended or spoke. Although several of the elected officials acknowledged the reality that the circumstances resulted in poor — if any — public notification, they all fell back on the claim that the letter of the law had been met and not one would introduce a motion to re-visit the zoning ordinance modification to include a real opportunity for public input.

As a result, this week the Canary Coalition and four local residents of Sylva are filing an appeal to the Superior Court, requesting the April 16 zoning ordinance modification be repealed pending due process, including a real public hearing with adequately informative and timely public notification. The plaintiffs have retained attorney Mark Melrose of Sylva law firm Melrose, Seago and Lay to file the appeal.

We all want the jobs this proposed expansion of Jackson Paper would bring. Sixty-one more people employed in moderately high-wage jobs will have a significant positive impact on our local economy. Jackson Paper has been a fairly good steward of the environment over the years. I can hear some people asking, “Why would the Canary Coalition interfere with this positive development?”

We don’t necessarily want to interfere with it. We want the chance to learn exactly what is planned and how it’s going to impact public health and the environment. It’s as simple as that. But apparently, many of our local elected officials on both the town and county level don’t know, never asked these questions, and didn’t think it was important for the public to be able to ask or offer insight either, before making crucial decisions to accommodate the expanded industry.

The paper plant expansion was first announced in the Sylva Herald on April 9. By April 16 the Town of Sylva modified its zoning ordinance. By May 22, the County voted to supply $500,000 from its revolving loan fund, at percent interest, to Jackson Paper to help with the expansion. Some of us have noticed how uncharacteristically fast the wheels of government are suddenly turning, unfortunately at the expense of due process.If the spirit of due process had been followed, the Town Council members would have learned from public input, prior to voting their decision, that Jackson Paper’s Air Quality Permit allows the burning of coal and rubber “pellets” (shredded tires) as well as wood chips.

Right now Jackson Paper only burns wood chips, which is a relatively clean combustion process. If all systems are working properly, almost all of the visible smokestack emissions consist of steam.

Coal, however is another story. Wherever coal is burned there are emissions of nitrogen oxide, sulfur dioxide, mercury, lead, arsenic, cadmium, barium, dioxins, hydrogen chloride, hydrogen fluoride and a long list of other toxic and hazardous air pollutants. Burning coal also results in a toxic ash pile that would, in this case, accumulate adjacent to Scott’s Creek, a major tributary to the Tuckaseegee River.

Nitrogen oxide and sulfur dioxide — combined emissions from burning coal — are acknowledged by industry, government agencies and the scientific community to account for more than 30,000 deaths annually on a national basis. These emissions are responsible for heightened rates of asthma, emphysema, heart disease, stroke and other pulmonary diseases.

Mercury toxicity from coal-burning emissions results in neurological damage to human beings, especially to fetuses and young children. Autism and learning disabilities have been directly linked by extensive scientific research to high levels of mercury in the blood. The Center For Disease Control warns that one in eight pregnant women in the Southeast have unsafe levels of mercury in their blood.

Burning rubber pellets has its own set of health and environmental impacts. Rubber from tires contains a cocktail of petroleum-based hydrocarbons that are potentially hazardous to human health and the environment if emitted into the air. Jackson Paper burned rubber pellets, along with wood chips, for several years ending in 2003 as part of a statewide program to reduce the accumulation of automobile tires at dump sites where they were becoming a problem for sheer volume. Jackson Paper stopped burning rubber in 2003 because its price rose in response to competing market demand. But, markets shift and if the price goes down again, one of Jackson Paper’s owners assured me they would again consider burning rubber at their Sylva plant.

Although right now Jackson Paper is only burning wood chips as fuel for their operation, the permit leaves open the possibility that some time in the future coal or rubber pellets will be burned should there be a shortage of wood chips. This is a concern since T&S Hardwood is at least temporarily ceasing operations, removing one of the major sources of wood chips available to Jackson Paper. Industries are being stressed everywhere in the current economy, so the reliability of the wood chip stream is uncertain.

Because the spirit of due process was not respected, our local government officials were deprived of all this and probably much more information from the knowledgeable members of our community prior to making the decisions to accommodate the expanding industry with zoning ordinance amendment and access to public money.

Here’s what we hope to accomplish by appealing the Town’s April 16 zoning decision, pending due process. Members of the community will have the opportunity to advise the Town Council to grant the zoning ordinance amendment to accommodate the Jackson Paper expansion with the stipulation that coal and rubber pellets are removed from the list of allowable fuels in their air quality permit. Jackson Paper can continue to burn wood chips while using natural gas as a backup. With this stipulation, we’ll have the 61 jobs AND the reassurance that the health of thousands of residents in the community will not be negatively impacted now or in the near future.

It isn’t a choice between jobs and a clean, healthy environment. It’s practical to have both. We can also have open, responsible government. It’s a shame you have to go to court sometimes to achieve it.

Avram Friedman

Executive Director, Canary Coalition

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It’s time for Harrah’s Cherokee Casino to offer alcohol to patrons, especially since the Tribe is counting on receipts from the thriving gambling operation to pay for everything from health care to education, and enrolled members can certainly make use of the extra money. If Harrah’s is to remain the Tribe’s cash cow, the smartest route is to maximize profits by passing the measure permitting the casino to serve alcohol.

No one in this country, and particularly no one living near a Native American reservation, can deny the negative effects of alcohol. It’s created more problems for more families than most people can imagine. The damages have been significant among Native American populations.

But some things have changed over time. Cherokee has become a place where education and social programs have vastly improved over the last decade. While we will never erase all of America’s social ills, Cherokee now has more tools in place than ever to help its people deal with whatever addiction problems they might have. Having alcohol within the community at the casino may strike fear into the heart of some, but the truth is that alcohol is now available right over the county lines in Jackson and Swain.

Many of these programs to help the addicted, ironically, are funded by profits from the casino. Tribal leaders get 50 percent of the profits to fund programs, and they have invested that money wisely. Most all agree that having alcohol at the casino could lead to a substantial jump in profits. That means more money to build facilities like schools or public health clinics.

Tribal leaders and Harrah’s managers have decided to position Cherokee and the casino as a destination resort. That means they want Cherokee and Harrah’s to be a place people will come to for several days at a time, and research shows those travelers want the ability to have a beer or a drink should they desire.

Much of the opposition to alcohol at the casino comes from those who are morally opposed to drinking. The only point to make here is that alcohol — like gambling — is a choice, and those who are opposed to it should continue to argue and debate their side of this. Opponents deserve to be heard, and it remains to be seen who will win the day in this historic vote.

In a debate that has strayed into the arena of morality, it seems belittling to bring up the sour economy. But the economic slowdown in Western North Carolina has affected thousands of families, depriving them of work and the money necessary to take care of themselves. Harrah’s has become the region’s — not just Cherokee’s — most important economic engine. If its profits go up, then nearly 2,000 workers and dozens of small companies in and around the region — along with the 14,000 Cherokee who receive per capita checks — will have more money to spend.

The casino has brought a new prosperity to Cherokee and helped the entire region. There are many more positives than negatives in helping that business by allowing it to offer alcohol to its patrons.

By John Beckman • Guest Columnist

The concept of wealth has been sideswiped over the last few decades. It seems that the former notion of amassing assets through hard work and sacrifice, and using them to do philanthropic community good, has given way to a “What’s in it for Me?” assumption. I fear that we are losing the sense of real value in our relationships to society and to each other, mauled by advertising hype and incredibly lousy role models. Stuff has taken over substance, and excessive quantity trounced true quality. It appears that many people confuse wealth with belongings, when genuine belonging can only come from our alliance with and connection to others. Will this recession finally slay the American mega-consumer and the more is better mindset?

I recently had a visit from an old friend, old in several ways and a friend in many. We met when he was 53 and I was a hell-bent 16-year-old. Little did I know at the time how rich and deep his friendship would become. He had just retired from a 33-year career in the Army and was setting out single-handedly to restore a now sad but once grand brick mansion two doors up from my parent’s house. I needed teen money and told him I could for anything for $5 an hour.

We’ve kept in close touch for the past three and one-half decades, so, when he turned 87, I sent him a plane ticket to Asheville to come and see how great life is in Western North Carolina. As experienced local hosts know, there is a lot for visitors to see and do here in a few days to try to capture the diverse flavors the mountains have to offer. Fortunately, with my guest being almost 90, I could eliminate extreme rock-climbing, marathon biking, Class V rapids and thru-hiking the A.T., which was fine by me and my aging knees. There are plenty of less strenuous options in these parts for those wise in years.

My friend is a great one for careful observation and critical analysis of what he sees, examining things in their own context and how they associate with all things around it, rather than from some vacuous arena or prejudice. I haven’t found too many people who can do this, and these are some of the best kinds of friends, as they often challenge their friends to define and distill their positions for deeper understanding and insights.

On a ride down US 441 to visit my former farm, my friend commented on the over-abundance of U-Store-It units littering the sides of the road, which led to a discussion about over-consumption, lost priorities and a drifting mindset in much of America, afloat on an ocean of socially-hyped inadequacy. The general conclusion was that if a person has the means to meet their basic necessities and just a little bit extra, then they are in the eyes of the world, wealthy. Friendships and involvement in one’s community and the accompanying sense of belonging do not require hordes of cash nor huge houses full of stuff. By working cooperatively to improve the surroundings for the greater majority of a society, the individual life is made richer, more meaningful and of greater value to others.

I introduced him to my friends the baker, the brewer, the restaurant owner, my garden helper, my postmaster, innkeeper, landscaper friend, septic installer and any friends we’d see on the street. Each one seemed a treat to share. We took in a HART production, photographed historic sites, dropped in a couple galleries and I noticed again just how great friends make great moments happen. We talked late into the night after my wife had left us to “solve the problems of the world.” Our discourses ran the gamut from politics to power tools, logic verses emotion, and from interpreting the Constitution to photographing clouds. These are rich times, I thought, as I drifted to sleep.

On the last night of his visit we splurged on $3 cigars topped off with shots of very average blended scotch over ice, and a couple hours on the porch overlooking the constantly changing waters of the creek. I felt a sense of richness deeply listening to the creek and the voice of a friend, wanting for nothing more than what I had at the moment. I wouldn’t have traded places with Bill Gates or Warren Buffet, assets be damned.

I met a new friend recently I look forward to sharing time with, and headed to Raleigh recently to lay to rest another I have much enjoyed for the past 25 years. Friendship, as it turns out, is true wealth, gathered over time and best when shared with others, glittering more than all the gold of Midas and the best investment a person can make.

(John Beckman is a farmer, builder and observer living in Cullowhee. He can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .)

Lately, the days whiz by faster than usual. Now that we have finally decided to put our house up for sale after months of agonizing reflection, we have been trying to squeeze various projects into every available minute of the day in order to get it ready for people to see. We have a guy putting new wood floors down in all four of our bedrooms. We’re putting in a couple of new doors. We’re working on the yard, trying to coax the grass in a couple of places. We’re painting the bathroom, and, much to my wife’s dismay, the kids’ bedroom.

“Now remind me, why do we want to paint the kids’ room?” Tammy says.

I remind her that not everyone may necessarily be as charmed by the room’s pink and blue motif as our daughter has been. Well, then. Down come the decals of Snow White and the Little Mermaid, and up goes the primer. Even the kids get in on the action, and by lunchtime, we’re all speckled and ready for a big lunch. On the way to the Chinese restaurant, I can see my daughter working out a question in her head, her face having assumed the familiar expression that precedes such questions.

“Daddy, do you think anyone will love our house as much as we do?” she asks. “It’s a great house, you know.”

She’s right. It is a great house. We can walk to the library, which we often do. We can walk to Main Street, which is something we do several times a week in the summer, and as often as possible in the fall when the towering trees along Haywood Street bust out their autumn colors. As the weather warms, festivals pop up around us like dandelions. We live in a quaint, quiet neighborhood reminiscent of a Spielberg suburb, with kids riding up and down the street on skateboards or scooters, and dog owners walking their pets in the early morning sun. In our fenced back lot, our beagle, Walter, gives them what for as they approach and then pass by, waving at us on the deck sipping our coffee before work.

“I know it is, sweetie,” I say, searching for the slightest trace of melancholy in her voice. “I hope that whoever buys it will love it as much as we have.”

We hadn’t really planned on selling, or even thought about selling. But early last fall, we were approached by a realtor who had a client she said was interested in our home. Initially, we rejected her approach out of hand, but as we began discussing it and looking to the future, we considered possible advantages in moving, in buying a home together, in possibly moving out a bit to the country. We made an appointment to look at her other houses, and suddenly the idea of selling gained some momentum. We even took the kids along a couple of times, and discovered that they were actually excited about the prospect of an “adventure.”

Just as the idea of selling seemed to be close to a reality, the potential buyer backed out, opting instead to buy a bunch of foreclosed homes in Detroit. Since our home had never actually been “for sale,” the entire enterprise fell like the proverbial house of cards, and Tammy took it for a sign. She had been a little put out that we have, year by year, committed to a variety of home improvements expressly with the idea of staying put, only to turn around and sell the house after all that trouble and expense.

“We have a brand new roof, new plumbing, new windows, new siding, a new deck,” she would say. “Why would we want to sell it after all that? Where are we going to find another house that has what we have, where we can get to the school, church, or the grocery store in less than five minutes? We even have a good view!”

I told her that the work we were doing would either make the home more attractive to a potential buyer, or it would make it a nicer home for us. Our friends in the business tell us that although the market is not so great, homes in this price range are still selling fairly well, and that a four bedroom home in our neighborhood for under $190,000 should attract a lot of attention, especially with the upgrades we’ve done.

I guess we’ll find out soon enough. If you are interested in looking at it, drop us a line. If you come by soon enough, we may hand you a paint brush. You just have to promise to love it as much as we do. My daughter wants it in the contract.

(Chris Cox is a writer and teacher who lives in Waynesville. He can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.)

There’s talk all over about America’s newfound love affair with frugality. What Time magazine has dubbed the Great Recession is threatening the American consumer culture, pundits and writers say, forcing us to re-think whether we need the biggest plasma screen television or the newest and greatest cell phone.

But it’s not just the gadgets that we’re re-thinking. Read the newspapers and news magazines and they also tell you that we’re eating out less, going less often to the high-end grocery stores, keeping the old car longer and putting off repairs to the house.

This may be new lifestyle for many, but not at my house. My wife has always been the “bring it back down to earth” person in our family. She enjoys nothing better than catching me or one of our children talking about how we “need” to get one of those or we “need ” to do that. “Need?” she’ll ask, eyebrows raised. OK, scratch that.

My wife’s point is this: for too many of us, what we “need” and what we “want” seldom diverge. They are one and the same, and so gadgets and other stuff piles up in closets and under beds as we gobble up everything the retailers throw at us.

Who knows whether this new emphasis on frugality is a fad or a permanent change, but it is interesting to note how lifestyle choices like these ebb and flow with the economic times. I’m old enough to remember the OPEC (Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries) oil embargo of the early 1970s. Price spiked, lines formed, and all of a sudden the country’s consciousness about energy and where it came from were all over the news.

Then came the late 1970s and early 1980s and inflation, job losses and more focus on our energy. Both presidents Nixon and Carter tried to raise our awareness of the country’s need to change its policies, but even during those bad economic times Americans didn’t embrace a radical new lifestyle.

But there was a rising consciousness of what was happening. Those times did signal the start of a concerted, mainstream environmental movement. The idea of using less, recycling and saving energy became commonplace, even though we didn’t all embrace it. The 1960s subculture had fomented into a fringe movement that now had advocates all the way to the White House. I remember some guy in Fayetteville who taught at the college near our house, and we’d see him riding his bike to work even in the winter.

That memory came back to me last week when we wrote a couple of stories about farmers and retailers. One story was about the growing popularity of biking to work again. Companies like Mast General Store even pay their workers to bike, figuring the benefits to the environment and their employees’ health are worth the investment.

The other story we wrote was about Whittier farmer William Shelton who has begun selling his products to individual families in addition to maintaining a wholesale business. Sign up for a share and you’ll get fresh vegetables each week from his farm.

Many growers are doing this, but Shelton is the first we’ve heard about who has been on the farm for several generations and has changed his business model to connect with the growing demand for local food. The markets also influenced his decision. Farmers like Shelton find it hard to compete against huge corporate farms and foreign competition.

And so he and others have decided to sell their food to people like you and me, counting on our desire for fresh and tasty food rather than the bland vegetables available in our grocery stores. These growers are also counting on the fact we, the consumer, will work harder to get our food. The large retailers are awfully convenient, but — just like biking to work — the benefits of eating local food go beyond taste to helping create the kind of community that most of us want to live in.

Last week’s paper brought together several of the issues arising from this new way of thinking that this Great Recession is helping promulgate. The demise of a consumer culture changes the equation of our lives. Cheaper, faster and easier don’t add up to better. The truth is that we’ve always known this, but often it takes eating a little humble pie before we remember what our parents and grandparents tried teaching us a long time ago.

(Scott McLeod can be reached in This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..)

I cannot remember the last time I watched a minute of a beauty pageant. I never had much of an interest in the first place, even when watching them with my family as a kid. The contestants were sparkly and had nice teeth. Some of them could sing, but I didn’t care much for the songs they sang. Mainly, we watched so we could pull for Miss North Carolina, and because in the early 1970s there were only two other channels to choose from, and programming on Saturday nights was pretty sad. It was Miss America, or the Tony Orlando and Dawn Rainbow Hour variety show.

One thing I do not remember is the contestants being asked for their views on hot button political topics of the day. I certainly stand to be corrected by our resident pageant historians, but I simply cannot remember Miss Maine weighing in on Roe versus Wade, or Miss Idaho giving us her views on the SALT Treaty. I do remember that, regardless of the question, the contestants were all in favor of working to make this a better world, and this was the gist of every answer to any question. I guess we should have been heartened to think that 50 pretty young women should be so committed to working for world peace in a turbulent, complicated world.

I never expected to see another pageant, but due to a combination of completely random events, I ended up watching the last segment of the Miss America pageant a couple of weeks ago, partially because we were channel surfing, stumbled upon the pageant, and then realized that Miss North Carolina had made it to the final five. Soon, my wife and I were comparing stories about watching the pageant when we were kids.

We watched them in their sparkly evening gowns, and then came the questions. “This should be interesting,” I said.

Some minor Internet celebrity named Perez Hilton (what, they couldn’t get Rerun from “What’s Happening!!”) asked Miss California for her thoughts on gay marriage. She began to answer as if she were going to delicately sidestep the question and come out in favor of working for the betterment of the world before finally taking a stand that marriage, in her view, was between a man and a woman.

She made it to the final two, before ultimately losing out to Miss North Carolina. The next day she said that she felt her answer cost her the pageant. She appears to feel this way because Hilton is evidently gay and because we live in a time of rampant political correctness, in which the liberal elite media has pushed its agenda so far as to infiltrate the Miss America pageant! What’s next, Keith Olbermann promoting the movie “Milk” on a box of Corn Flakes? Where will it end?

Miss California might be consoled that gay marriage is still illegal in all but three states and is not recognized by the federal government. If it is true that political correctness has put people in the uncomfortable position of disguising their bigotry in the familiar garb of “family values,” it is also true that this same bigotry is very much still in force. In the 2008 election, voters in California, Florida, and Arizona overwhelmingly voted to ban same-sex marriages.

Now, Miss California has gone to Washington, where she will become a spokesperson — or, “spokesman,” since I wouldn’t want to indulge here in unseemly political correctness in identifying her as a person — for a group called the National Organization for Marriage. They are fighting “to protect traditional marriages.”

Well, when it comes to hard hitting journalism, I’m no Perez Hilton, but I do have a question for Miss California and anyone else who sees gay marriage as a threat to traditional marriage: Isn’t divorce a bigger threat?

If the conventional wisdom that half of the marriages in our country will end in divorce is true, isn’t divorce a much bigger threat to traditional marriage than if some same-sex couple down the street gets married? I’m in a traditional marriage, and I do not understand how anyone else’s marriage — gay or straight — is a threat to mine. The main threat to my marriage is forgetting my wife’s anniversary, or making one too many comments on how nice Miss North Carolina looks in her dark blue sequins.

Now, before folks go lunging for their laptops to send me quotes from Leviticus proving that gay marriage should be banned on biblical principles, please remember to show us where Jesus is quoted on the issue of gay marriage, and then explain why divorce is legal, since Jesus actually is quoted more than once on that issue.

Moreover, when can we expect groups to spring up in favor of putting to death all those work on the Sabbath, a sanction that is clearly spelled out in Exodus? If my son is disobedient, should I heed the words of Deuteronomy and have him stoned to death? When will we see groups boycotting Red Lobster because hardened sinners are inside eating shrimp or crab legs with no regard at all for Leviticus, which forbids us to eat shellfish? How can we stand idly by every fall when weekends are so cluttered with people touching the skin of dead pigs? Leviticus calls it an abomination. We call it football.

If we are going to base all our laws on the Old Testament, we had better get after it. When Miss California gets back from Washington, she’s got her work cut out for her.

(Chris Cox is a writer and teacher who lives in Waynesville. He can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..)

“When I first came into the Smokies the whole region was one of superb primeval forest. My sylvan studio spread over mountain after mountain, seemingly without end, and it was always clean and fragrant, always vital, growing new shapes of beauty from day to day. The vast trees met overhead like cathedral roofs. I am not a very religious man, but often when standing alone before my Maker in this house not made with hands I bowed my head with reverence and thanked God for His gift of the greatest forest to one who loved it. Not long ago, I went to that same place again. It was wrecked, ruined, desecrated, turned into a thousand rubbish heaps, utterly vile and mean.”

— Horace Kephart

As people throughout the mountains and around the country mark the celebration of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park’s 75th anniversary, Horace Kephart’s role in this park’s creation is once again being thrust into the limelight. While his depiction of “southern highlanders” in his famous book may still be open for debate, two things about Kephart are certain: he was, as the passage above shows, a superb writer; two, the Great Smoky Mountains National Park might not exist had it not been for his advocacy.

Kephart was an outlander, a man who came to the Smokies in his middle age and found people and a place that would consume him for the rest of his life. He cherished his time in the Smokies, and his skills as a chronicler of the ways of the rural mountaineer have earned him a lasting place in Appalachian history.

But it was how he used that fame that is most noteworthy. As he witnessed the sudden change wrought by large-scale logging upon mountain communities and mountain landscapes — again, see the passage above — he began to see the necessity of preserving what at one time had seemed an endless forest.

Kephart began writing articles and advocating to whomever would listen about the need to create a national park in the Smokies. The idea riled many of the mountaineers who had become his friend, for many at that time did not see the benefit of locking away land that had for generations been hunted, fished and used for its bounty to house and feed entire communities. There was also the unheard of controversy of creating a park — in essence, taking the land — of hundreds of families whose farms and homes were in the area being considered for the national park.

As we realize now, Kephart and others who fought relentlessly for the Great Smoky Mountains National Park were visionaries. They carved a jewel out of the remaining mountain wilderness, creating what has become one of the most bio-diverse habitats left in North America and the entire planet.

Early park supporters also gave this region another important legacy — an economy based on tourism rather than taking from the land. Although the logging and timber industry are still important and still a vital part of the mountain heritage, the preserved forests and wilderness also have fed generations of mountain families. People come here to connect with the mountains, to get that same feeling Horace Kephart describes in the above passage.

As we mark the creation of this great park, it’s a proper time to pay homage to those like Kephart who made it possible. This would be a vastly different place had they not prevailed.

“Gov. Beverly Perdue probably didn’t set out to give Western North Carolina a slap in the face Wednesday.

“But we know a slap in the face when we see one, and this sure qualifies.”

— Asheville Citizen-Times editorial, April 23

Asheville Citizen-Times Editorial Page Editor Jim Buchanan — a Haywood County resident and a friend of mine — was right on target with this one. My sentiments exactly, and a sentiment shared by a whole lot of people in our region.

Gov. Beverly Perdue chose not to attend the first official event in the yearlong celebration of the 75th anniversary of the creation of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The occasion was a Governors Proclamation Ceremony and it was held at Clingmans Dome. Tennessee Gov. Phil Bredesen was there.

According to Perdue’s spokesperson, Chrissy Pearson, “The governor was invited and did give serous consideration but given the length of the trip and the potential travel cost involved she declined. It is so far out of the way and we are trying to cut back on travel.”

Perhaps Ms. Pearson didn’t get the significance of her words, but the “so far out of the way” line is a bit hard to swallow. Everyone out here knows how far we are from Raleigh (it’s about 6 hours from Clingmans Dome to Raleigh, and MapQuest estimates the fuel cost there and back at about $70). The distance in miles is significant, but it’s the attitude that can be read into the governor’s statement that is more revealing.

I could go on for thousands of words, but here are three important points about the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and the southwestern part of her own state that Gov. Perdue might need to be reminded of:

• The park is probably the single largest economic engine in the state, if one doesn’t consider the “beach” as one entity. Nearly 10 million people a year visit the park, and the surrounding communities depend on it — especially when times are as tough as they are now. But somehow Tennessee has laid claim to the Smoky Mountains. Most citizens of this country think of Tennessee when they think of the park, and its governor made sure he had time on his schedule to get to the ceremony. Perdue’s absence only solidifies Tennessee’s link with the Smokies and surely will help the towns on the western side of the park.

• The still-evolving legacy of the park— from a cultural standpoint — deserves recognition from leaders in Raleigh, including the governor. She could have stood on the podium and made note of how the creation of the park was controversial in its day because so many residents were uprooted from their homes and communities, their land forcibly “taken” (though they did get compensation, that’s the general phrase used). She could have pointed out that the initial skepticism about the park was heartfelt but that its creation has become a grand success, creating a jewel for future generations and a permanent gold mine for the economies in the state’s far west.

• Finally, she could have assured citizens here that this region, though many miles from Raleigh, is not “out of the way.” From a political standpoint, Perdue should know that citizens in the mountains have a long history feeling that they have been left out. A visit to this important ceremony would have helped establish that Perdue does indeed feel differently.

I’ve had the good fortune to live, literally, all over North Carolina — Fayetteville (south piedmont), Boone and Blowing Rock (northwest), Durham (central), Raleigh (central), Roanoke Rapids (northeast), Elizabethtown (southeast) and now Waynesville. All of those places are special, but not a single one has people imbued with the strong sense of place that is the norm for those here in the mountains. The creation of the park is an important component of this legacy, and Perdue’s no-show will have some saying that she just doesn’t understand that.

In the grand scheme of things, this probably doesn’t rank very high in terms of Perdue’s mistakes during her early months in the governor’s office. What it indicates, however, is that some things just haven’t changed much in Raleigh.

(Scott McLeod can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..)

I don’t really know when nightmares begin. I guess it is possible that babies have nightmares, shaken awake in the night by dreams of stuffed giraffes turned suddenly sinister or a nipple that you chase and chase and never quite catch up to. I remember some pained expressions on my children’s sleeping faces, but we always assumed it was gas, not nightmares.

One thing I do know is that by the time they reach the age of 4, children have nightmares — vivid, terrifying , wrenching nightmares. The kind of nightmares that shatter sleep like an errant baseball shatters a living room window. The kind of nightmares that do not evaporate on contact once they are awake, burned away by the daylight like so much early morning fog, completely forgotten before the Cheerios begin dividing like cells in the cereal bowl.

No, these nightmares linger for hours, even days, making the prospect of going to bed not only a bummer, but a source of pure and profound dread, worse, even, than eating a brussel sprout, nearly as bad as getting a vaccination shot or being hugged too tightly and too long by a well meaning relative. Dreams ... the polyester pressing hard against your face, maybe a sharp pendant scratching you, and the smells ... sweet perfume like rotting peaches, some kind of powder, too.

But dreams lately are even worse than that, a lot worse, worse than anything. You get a shot, the shot’s over. You eat a brussel sprout, you wash it down with a shot of chocolate milk and a jelly bean you smuggled in your pocket. Your great-great-whatever hugs you, you hold your breath and wait for it to pass. These are horrors, but predictable, manageable horrors. What to do about these dreams? There is no way to predict them, no way to manage them.

Worse, your mind reels and reels and reels as darkness falls, and the machinery of your nighttime ritual pushes you toward bedtime. The taking of baths, the brushing of teeth, the reading of stories, the singing of the familiar bedtime songs, the old repetition of kisses and goodnights, more kisses and more goodnights, a couple of last minute random questions designed for last-ditch stalling — yes, we may have ice cream tomorrow, no, we can’t go to the beach yet — one last good night. OK, one more.

Now it comes. Images. Sounds. Sensations. What was that? Did you see something just then, right there? You remember something you saw in a book, a monster with terrible yellow teeth. You remember the big bad wolf, the poor pigs. You remember something your friend said, something very scary about enemies and bad guys, and even though you are not exactly sure what an “enemy” is, it can’t be good, not if they’re BAD guys. You hear something outside. The dog barks. Enemies!!!

Time to go get Dad.

I know these dreams are fueled in part by popular culture. As a kid, I thought nothing of Hansel and Gretel, Little Red Riding Hood, Aunt Rhody and her dead old gray goose, or any other of the time-honored twisted tales that parents inflict on their children, but as a parent, I look at the rich history of flat-out weirdness in children’s literature with some mixture of fascination and disgust. No wonder we’re so violent, so warped, so in need of therapy and self help books. Maybe I was more affected than I realize. I do remember tossing and turning in my bed at night, imagining always what might be outside, lurking, looking for a way to get inside. Isn’t that a persistent theme in children’s stories, after all, something out there trying to get in here?

I remember getting a CD of famous children’s songs from a family friend a couple of years ago when we were getting ready to go to the beach and spend six or seven hours in the minivan with the kids. “This will help entertain them,” the friend said. Sure enough, they listened attentively for a good while, and my mind began to wander aimlessly and quite pleasantly until the lyrics of a creepy little song about lady bugs crept into my consciousness: “Lady bug, Lady bug, fly away home, your house is on fire and your children are gone.”

And we wonder where the nightmares come from? We started skipping the “Lady Bug” song, opting instead to send the bear over the mountain about 1,200 times before we got to Charleston.

Taking the advice of another friend, I have begun using Monster Spray every night before bed — yes, it is now part of the bedtime ritual. I spray around the doors and windows, under the beds, over the beds, even give a good blast into the center of the room for good measure. According to the label, it also works well on enemies and bad guys.

Now, good night, guys. I love you, too. Yes, we can throw the Frisbee tomorrow. Good night ... what’s that? No, we aren’t having brussel sprouts tomorrow.

Sweet dreams, buddy. Yes, the spray lasts all night. Yes, really.

(Chris Cox is a writer and teacher who lives in Waynesville. He can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..)

The Haywood County Chamber of Commerce’s Green Initiative is one of those projects that is good on many different levels, not the least of which is the admirable goal of reducing the impact the business community has on the environment.

The Green Initiative, which is being headed by Haywood Community College President Dr. Rose Johnson, is aimed at establishing a methodology by which businesses can earn a “green designation” from the chamber of commerce. A chamber committee has been working for months to set up the criteria, and the categories include recycling, water and energy.

Those businesses that earn this designation will benefit in many ways. Aside from doing what is right, it is likely that many potential customers will appreciate their efforts and choose to do business with them. As this program is formalized, more businesses will likely follow suit and try to earn the designation. That’s a direct benefit that makes the investment to attain the green designation worthwhile from a business perspective.

The fact that the chamber of commerce has put in the time and effort to set up the Green Initiative speaks well of the organization. In too many cases those in the business community pit profit and sustainability efforts against one another. What is becoming increasingly clear is that the opposite is true. Companies that save energy and cut waste make more money, and though it’s impossible to have zero impact, it is a worthwhile effort.

This initiative is one component of a critical mass of sustainability efforts currently being implemented in Haywood County. These include:

• The county Economic Development Commission is formalizing a list of tax incentives for green energy companies to entice them to open shop in the county. The catalyst for that effort was the request for a tax break by a huge solar farm being built near Canton, a project that will be among the largest of its kind in the Southeast once completed.

• Haywood Community College and Dr. Rose Johnson are taking steps to make that institution a center for environmental learning. Staff members are working to implement course offerings that infuse the college’s forestry, wildlife, construction, nursery and other programs with cutting edge sustainability courses and practices. In addition, the college is working to make itself a leader in all these resource-saving areas.

• And Stephen King, the county’s solid waste director, has been a part of the Green Initiative and is a champion of recycling efforts. He has brought great ideas that have helped the county recycling program and is also working to tap the methane at the county’s landfill and harness it for energy use.

There will be intangible benefits for Haywood County for being at the forefront of the green movement. Some areas in the Northeast and out West may be further along, but Haywood County and others in this region are staking a claim as a leader in the Southeast. That is good for quality of life and for businesses.

The chamber’s Green Initiative taps into a truth that’s very important for those of us living in this region. The forests, streams and air are what make this place special, what give the mountains their special, almost spiritual appeal.

“Natural resources are part of the beauty of where we live. That’s why people come here,” said Laura Leatherwood, director of Community and Economic Development at HCC and a participant in the Green Initiative. “We want people to live it personally but we need our business community to live it as well in their practices as they do business throughout the day.”