LITTLE ROCK — Sept. 15, the Fayetteville City Council was set to decide a request for a zoning change. A property owner, Billy JoeBartholomew, owner of a defunct livestock sale barn, wished to sell his land to Campus Crest, a North Carolina-based college housing developer. Rezoning the land (from Industrial to Downtown General) would have made this possible.
All the while, a group of area veterans opposed it strongly. The reason? The veterans said they wanted to buy the property to expand the Fayetteville National Cemetery. They lack the money to do that, and the people in charge of the cemetery say when time for expansion comes, other property will be preferable to the sale barn property. So the real mission of these veterans was understandably protective - to prevent construction of college student-oriented housing so near hallowed ground where men and women of the armed forces are laid for eternity.
The drama over the sale barn property has been big summer news. It marked the passing of a local institution known as the Washington County Livestock Auction, operated by the Bartholomews for more than 70 years. It invigorated an aging collection of former servicemen and -women in an emotional battle. It had overtones of a generational spat that set respected veterans against Fayetteville's valued college students.
And the debate went on for weeks and weeks, until Sept. 15 when it came time for a decision. All eight aldermen were there, an intense discussion wrapped up after an hour and a half, and voting began.
But where was Ward 3 Alderman Robert Rhoads? His chair was now empty. No answer came when the city clerk called for his vote. The result: Four aldermen opposed the rezoning, three favored it, and Mayor Lioneld Jordan was spared casting a tie-breaker. The rezoning failed.
Immediately, speculation began. Why did Rhoads leave? Was there an arrangement to spare the mayor a potentially damaging vote?
It was, after all the wailing and gnashing of teeth, a disappointment to see Ward 3's representation at only half strength (Bobby Ferrell is the other Ward 3 alderman).
Rhoads, who reappeared a few moments after the vote, acknowledged that he would have cast the tying vote, putting the matter in the hands of Jordan for a final decision. Jordan says he would have voted against the rezoning because the housing density was too great for the streets surrounding the property.
But didn't the Bartholomews, after waiting so long for an answer, deserve to see the city's representatives fully carry out this vote? We say they did.
Jordan was preparing a speech to explain his "no" vote that was never required. Rhoads, questioned about his absence by a reporter, explained that he had a prior commitment involving a "personal matter." It doesn't seem there was any arrangement going on here.
And we can respect an alderman living up to a previous commitment while trying to get back in time for the vote.
What we're bothered by, however, is that Rhoads didn't clue his fellow aldermen and the mayor in and request a brief delay in voting. Aldermen, out of a sense of professional courtesy, often respect the wishes of peers who are unavoidably absent and reset a matter for a vote at a later time. Granted, an alderman could abuse the privilege, but we haven't seen anyone do that. Besides, the full City Council can always decide against extending such a courtesy if it would appear inappropriate or abusive to the parties involved.
The unexpected and unexplained disappearance of Robert Rhoads didn't have to become a political mystery. Handled properly, it could have been an example of a City Council functioning in such a way that full representation on a major vote was a priority.
Instead, it was a head-scratcher.
Opinion, Pages 4 on 09/23/2009