The Storm Watch

Although not perfect, our backyard was the best one in the neighborhood for baseball. It was rectangular in shape causing the distance between first and third to be considerably shortened. This produced a rather elongated diamond, narrowing the playing field, and enabling us to reduce our rosters by one infielder and one outfielder. The distance from one end to the other was just about the limit of an eleven or twelve year old’s ability to hit the ball so thumping a homer bestowed a legitimate sense of accomplishment.

The neighbors on one side were an older retired couple and they never minded us jumping their fence to retrieve foul balls. As a matter of fact, frequently old man Collins would come out in his backyard just to watch us and when a good play was made, it was extremely gratifying to be on the receiving end of one of his resounding “attaboys”.

Once in a while he would volunteer to call balls and strikes but his pretty good eye tended to deteriorate as the innings progressed and his consumption of Pabst Blue Ribbon increased. His participation made for a much more entertaining game and we never seemed to mind as his strike zone became increasingly unpredictable. It was equally irregular for both sides. There was always his version of the seventh inning stretch which occurred when his cooler ran a little low or his bladder a little full, and I’m convinced that had we ever gone into extra innings, it could have seriously affected his ability to negotiate the short distance home.

The neighbors on the other side provided both a swimming pool and one of our most reliable players, Skipper Barnes. He may have been the most mature twelve year old God ever made and as such was held in high esteem by every adult in the neighborhood. Sadly, he increased parental expectations for the rest of us. Always the peacemaker, any significant loss of temper during competition would end his participation, which would of course cost all of us the ritual after game swim.

After the final out we all followed Skipper to his backyard and dutifully listened to the ceremonial instructions on pool behavior from either his mom or dad. We all knew better than to break the rules as it was a quick ticket home.

The swim was only half the fun as Mr. Barnes was inclined to feed us all afterward. He would insist we call our parents for permission first and let them know that he was serving us a healthy meal of steak and potatoes with a frozen dessert. Actually, the main course almost always consisted of hot dogs, burgers and chips, and dessert was either popsicles or ice cream sandwiches. Mr. Barnes explained that it was only a slight stretch of the truth as hot dogs were “tube steaks”, burgers were chopped steak and chips were made from potatoes.

All of us in Queen Anne’s County know we also have a great backyard. It’s rich in prime farmland, picturesque rivers and streams, and pristine woodlands. Our countryside is dotted with charming towns, abundant in history, and each one with a strong sense of community.

Some of our current government officials perceive development as a quick source of cash and have no problem allowing special interests to line their pockets along the way. A number of the current candidates will no doubt follow their example, refusing to acknowledge the horrific impacts to our environment, our rural heritage and our quality of life.

We are not defenseless against these people. There are a number of good candidates who share our values and our desire to protect them. It is important that we learn as much as we can about each and every candidate. In particular, we must carefully examine their actions and their motivations. After all, it’s our backyard.

Sveinn C. Storm

It was Saturday and one of those perfect summer afternoons for baseball. We had just the right number of players on each side, and it was one of those rare times when the selection process had resulted in perfectly matched teams. The competition was fierce, the score was close and then the unthinkable happened. Mom called the game on account of dinner.

My mother subscribed to the theory that somehow the nutritional value of a hot meal declined with its drop in temperature and no manner of pleading was going to change her position. When mom called you to dinner you were expected to drop what you were doing, wash your hands, be seated at the table, and bow your head for Grace- all in one smooth motion. To this very day, I still believe the additional exercise I would have received from a few extra innings could have more than offset the dietary decline I may have suffered from consuming cold food.

Once at the dinner table, I expressed my discontent by crossing my eyes. Mom had never developed an appreciation for making faces and my form of dissent quickly got her attention. Her reprimand came with the warning that the position of my eyes could become a permanent condition, an admonition she had used many times before. I informed her that indeed that had happened and that I was unable to uncross them.

My father suggested that a quick jolt could possibly cure my disorder and miraculously the mere mention of his treatment brought about immediate healing.

Concerned with the dangerous example I had set for my younger brothers, mom said, “If you want to look that way for the rest of your life, go ahead and act like your brother, but don’t come crying to me when your eyes are stuck.” Apparently she believed the risk was genuine.

I quickly mentioned Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy, which my father found briefly amusing until he recognized mom’s demeanor. To mom’s dismay, dad exposed the myth and our meal concluded in irritated silence.

The citizens of Queen Anne’s County are being fed an endless supply of development myths. “You can’t stop growth.” “Growth provides necessary tax revenue.” “Growth provides good jobs.” “You either grow or die.” For a number of years now we have heard these and many similar statements from the narrow group of individuals reaping huge profits from development. They testify before our county commission and town councils and make these statements without substantiation.

The myths that growth reduces our taxes, brings good jobs, and provides affordable housing are just that: myths! These false assumptions are perpetuated without any supporting evidence and continuing to allow their acceptance will ultimately destroy our quality of life. The solution is quite simple. Present the truth.

Factual information related to the effects of poorly planned growth clearly shows the majority of the time: Taxes will increase. Housing costs will increase. Crime rates will increase. Traffic will increase. Unemployment will increase. Schools will become overcrowded. Environmental quality will decline. Natural resources will decline. The sense of community will disappear.

Diligent examination of the facts related to growth is essential for the future of Queen Anne’s County. The citizens deserve an accurate and unbiased presentation of necessary information to determine when and how they want to grow.

Mom’s myth was harmless. The developers’ myths aren’t.

Sveinn C. Storm

It was a pretty good idea at the time, certainly by eleven year old standards. There was a place just past the old wooden trestle where the trains would always slow down to a snail’s pace to safely negotiate a very sharp turn. There one day we would pick an empty boxcar, climb aboard and take a short ride before jumping back off. That was the plan, anyway, and it had been in the back of our minds for quite some time.

My best friend Greg had survived cancer, which was something most kids didn’t do in the late 50’s and early 60’s, and his continued existence confirmed to him his indestructibility. That belief had somehow rubbed off on me to the point that both our judgments were equally impaired.

Forty years ago our families lived just east of the Dallas city limits near the town of Mesquite. Most of the land between Dallas and Fort Worth was farmland as was the land surrounding our neighborhood. With puberty somewhere off in the distance, Greg’s and my sole pursuit was our devotion to hunting and fishing. One of our favorite places to fish was from the massive beams at the bottom of the old wooden train trestle on Murdock’s farm. Not only was the fishing good but we could sense an approaching train while it was still a long distance off from the slight vibration in the beams under our feet. We would make a contest in guessing how long it would be before the train arrived and then delight in the deafening roar and violent shaking of the old trestle as the train passed overhead.

One fall morning in 1966 we made good on our plan to hop a train. The plan started out smoothly as we both were able to scramble into the same empty boxcar. However, as we stood admiring the view and our accomplishments, we gave little notice to the ever increasing speed of the train until we came to the realization that it was too late to make a safe exit. The train never slowed as it headed west through the middle of the city then through the pretty countryside as we left Dallas on our way toward Fort Worth.

Fortunately the train came to rest in the middle of a huge maze of tracks somewhere near Fort Worth. We were promptly greeted by a couple of train yard employees who were greatly offended by our presence and used some rather colorful language when they phoned Greg’s dad to come get us. Mr. Newton was so happy to have his son back he didn’t even yell at us. As a matter of fact he insisted that the whole episode should remain between the three of us to spare Greg’s mom any further anxiety. We didn’t have a problem with that.

Sixteen years later I was back in the Dallas/Fort Worth area to visit friends. I couldn’t find a single farm I had hunted on as a child and Dallas and Fort Worth had grown together to swallow up all the farmland that once existed between them. The old wooden trestle was no where to be found, nor was the creek that ran beneath it. They were both victims of “progress”. I wondered how they got rid of them and whether there were any voices in opposition.

There is a selfish group of people hoping to control the outcome of our next elections. They want this same kind of “progress”.

We can stop the train.

Sveinn C. Storm

Ask a small child what she or he wants to be when they grow up and you’re likely to hear fireman, policeman, doctor, nurse, teacher or maybe even a lawyer. What I find interesting is that these noble choices are all professions intended to serve others.

I don’t know that I have ever heard a child say, “When I grow up, I want to be a politician.” If I did, I would probably have serious doubts about the kid. Why is that? In actuality, the role of a politician should be to serve others. In reality, all too often the opposite occurs.

It has been my experience that there are three basic types of people that run for political office. The first group is made up of those who truly want to improve their community. Their motivations are pure and selfless and their goals are fueled by genuine concern for their fellow man. These are people that see wrongs that need righting and feel compelled to act upon their convictions.

The second group is made up of those people whose desire is to feel significant. They have inflated egos and seek political power to advance their public image rather than the public good. Their decisions are based on maintaining or improving their hold on office and their beliefs are directed by political winds rather than moral conviction. You will find these politicians at every social event and when they speak they sound as if they always agree with you. By attempting to be all things to all people, they are in reality indifferent to each and every one of us. They will never comprehend that a “No” spoken from genuine conviction is far superior to a “Yes” merely uttered to please.

The third group is made up of people whose goal is to serve selfish interests. They seek political power for their own financial gain or that of the groups they represent. Seldom do their decisions benefit society as a whole as their intentions are to relentlessly manipulate the system to facilitate greed. Their entrance into the political arena is generally achieved through well funded, flagrant deception of the voters and they are easily identified by the lobbyists and special interest groups in attendance at their fundraisers. Their ability to achieve and maintain political office is directly related to their ability to avoid ethical accountability.

The first challenge to getting good government is the ability to discern group 1 politicians from groups 2 and 3. There isn’t much difference between the egotist politician (group 2) and the special interest politician (group 3) with respect to the damage they cause democracy.

The second challenge to getting good government is motivating citizens to follow through and support group 1 candidates. “Politician” doesn’t have to be a dirty word, but it’s up to the voters to change that. This election, carefully evaluate the motives and character of the candidates so you can cast your vote wisely. Choose a politician whose desire is to serve the community and if you get the chance, help level the playing field by supporting your honest candidate with a small donation.

It is important for every citizen in Queen Anne’s County to care for their community and cast well educated votes in the upcoming election. There are kind, caring, capable and deserving people running for office. But there are also deceitful, greedy and unethical politicians who have done significant damage to our quality of life and will continue to do so if allowed to remain in office. Bad politicians are elected by good citizens who do not vote.

Sveinn C. Storm

Janet Boldyga is running for Queen Anne’s County Commissioner and why shouldn’t she? As a key leader in the previous administration she saw all the benefits of public office first hand. She helped the previous set of Commissioners, John McQueeney, George O’Donnell, and Marlene Davis raise taxes to historic levels, and push thru large scale development against the will of the people. Janet Boldyga worked diligently to remove ethics rules that could slow down pro-development county employees, and closely supported the efforts of Mr. McQueeney and Mr. O’Donnell as they jammed through large scale development. Is this a bit strong? I think the evidence clearly shows that it isn’t. Read the rest of this entry »

On November 9th and 10th, 2000, the Anne Arundel County Police Department conducted an undercover operation to determine if certain liquor establishments were selling alcohol to minors. Plain clothes officers accompanied an underage volunteer into eighteen businesses as he attempted to purchase alcoholic beverages without proper identification. Only three of those establishments broke the law and sold to the young man. (Here is a link to the police report and liquor board ruling. WARNING: foul language is contained in the report) Read the rest of this entry »

Not long ago there was a discussion dealing with the rate of growth in Queen Anne’s County which included local planning officials, politicians, developers, and a few concerned citizens.  During the discussion one citizen expressed dismay over the fact that the driving force behind all the development was pure greed.  One of the millionaire developers in the room replied, “You should try it some time.”   Well, I’ve thought it over and have decided to give greed a whirl. Read the rest of this entry »

To use Frank Kratovil’s own words, his “recent article only demonstrates his ignorance in an area in which he proclaims to have knowledge.” Mr. Kratovil claims “that not one single criminal allegation was found to be substantiated” with respect to the town of Centreville. Let’s review the facts. Read the rest of this entry »

According to our Queen Anne’s County State’s Attorney, Frank Kratovil, it is perfectly acceptable for someone to break the law as long as they do not intend to do so. That was his explanation for not holding anyone responsible for the failure of the Town of Centreville to collect fees for water and sewer allocations, as well as engineering and inspection fees. Read the rest of this entry »