We did not begin our marriage with an agreed-upon strategy for how we would conduct our lives.  We both wanted to finish college, have children, and be of service to our family and community; but I’m not sure we ever discussed those goals in great detail.  Evelyn did most of the thinking while I was busy acting upon my last impulse.  She wanted six children, and I wanted two; so we compromised at four.

Evelyn earned her teaching degree at Old Dominion University while I served in the Navy.  We were still getting to know one another in those days, and it took me awhile to figure out that her claims about failing classes and desperately needing my help were exaggerations.  Evelyn graduated magna cum laude from college, and I did not.  We both earned our graduate degrees some years later, after discovering that our chosen fields required more education.

Working as an administrator for nonprofits and as a construction laboratory technician while Evelyn worked as a very well-educated school secretary taught us the need for frugality and persistence.  Evelyn was eventually able to find a teaching job, and I was fortunate to begin work for the City of Oakridge in 1988.  Our accomplishments, like everyone else’s, came from a combination of hard work and good fortune.

Neither of us imagined 37 years ago that we would be living about 100 miles from where we went to high school after nearly four decades or that we would have nine-plus grandchildren.  We did not aspire to travel to or work in the developing world, and I doubt I could have found many of the places I’ve worked on a map in 1972.

Our lives have been richly blessed by our large extended family and the opportunity to work for communities in a state we love.  All of this may be more information than the average blog reader desires; but I think it’s appropriate to express our blessings, particularly at Thanksgiving.  I am truly grateful for the past 37 years and look forward to whatever the future will bring.  Happy Thanksgiving!

1972

2008

Yesterday’s newspaper contained a diatribe complaining about government robbing us of our freedom.  This is a familiar theme not only in the media, but also in everyday conversation.  Who among us has not resented one government regulation or another at some time in our life?  I have already confessed in an earlier blog that I occasionally violated angling regulations when I was an adolescent (the statute of limitations applies here).  I have, however, also lived and worked in a number of places where government has little or no influence on the lives of its citizens.

If you can imagine a place where there is no enforcement of traffic laws; every household has at least one AK47; garbage covers the landscape; electricity and water service costs nothing; no one pays taxes; people are routinely blown up; roads are filled with potholes; ambulance and fire service is largely nonexistent; police officers are as likely to be criminals or terrorists as law enforcement officials; and public servants frequently serve no one but themselves, you will have imagined Iraq in 2004.  People were largely free to do whatever they wanted, but it is interesting to note that almost no one seemed happy or content.

During my first visit to Indonesia in 2001, I learned that foreign correspondents from at least one country received a stipend in their pay to cover the cost of bribing public officials for information.  I saw no evidence of traffic enforcement; but I was told that on the rare occasion when a police officer stopped someone, the fine was taken care of on the spot.  I was also able to witness firsthand the presidential transition from one political party to another when tanks and armored personnel carriers surrounded the presidential palace and compelled the old president to give way to a new one.

Working in Sri Lanka in 2006, I visited 14 local government offices throughout the island nation.  Concepts of budgeting, transparency, public participation, and accountability for service delivery were largely unknown.  I saw very little evidence of effective public services, unless you count a very visible military presence.  I worked closely with a Sri Lankan friend in Iraq, who, like most educated Sri Lankans, had emigrated to the U.S. years before we met.

I will be leaving for a three-week assignment in Ethiopia at the end of this month (It’s how I spend my vacations.) where I have been asked to work with a local government on “revenue enhancement” and completing a public toilet project.  This work is part of a capacity building effort by the U.S. Agency for International Development that tries to help make local governments more effective at serving their people.  If successful, I may be helping this local government get more money in taxes and fees from local residents.

I wrote the following paragraph while working in Iraq in 2004:

“I see progress every day in Iraq, and democracy is starting to take root.  Iraqi citizens will need to recognize, however, what even those of us who have it sometimes forget.  The greatest freedom we enjoy in the United States is not license to do anything we please.  The Iraqis have more of that kind of freedom right now than we do. Our greatest liberty is our power to control our own destiny.  We are not the helpless victims of fate; and if we do not like the condition of our government or our lives, we can change them.  People of many nationalities, but mostly Iraqis, are dying to secure that liberty here.  I believe it is a worthwhile cause.”

I guess it makes sense that a city manager who has spent a long career working for local governments would see the world differently than a newspaper editor who has spent a long career looking at and for the worst in government.  There is validity in both perspectives; but based on my experience, I would much rather pay for reliable government services than pay little or nothing and receive commensurate value.

I have to justify all this time by finding some redeeming value in the hours I’ve devoted to watching sports, and I think I may have stumbled across a reason while watching the Oregon Ducks dismantle the University of Southern California last week.  Oregon’s coach, Chip Kelly, commented after the game that his team’s performance was a reflection of the quality and intensity of their preparation.  He noted that the team had great practices through the week that prepared them for the big game against the Trojans.

I wonder how many of us prepare with the same intensity for the big events in our lives.  I probably should avoid true confessions in these blogs because I know City Councilors read them on occasion, but I do not put the same effort into preparing for our Council meetings that a college football team invests in its weekly game.  In fairness to myself, I earned a couple of academic degrees, have attended many months of professional training, and worked for more than 35 years in jobs that have helped prepare me for what I do now.  I read a large amount of background material and attend more than a few meetings to be prepared for Council sessions, but all of it lacks the urgency and discipline of preparing for a sports contest.  I guess this may partially explain why successful major college football coaches earn millions of dollars a year while successful city managers don’t.

As humbling as the realization is that I probably don’t work as hard as a college football coach, it is much less of a blow to my pride than the acknowledgement that I almost certainly didn’t prepare as hard to be a parent as I should have.  My formal education consisted of one child psychology course that probably did more harm than good, and most of the rest of my training was the good example of my parents.  Fortunately, my wife prepared better and our children have grown up to be good adults.  The final test, however, will be what they decide to do with me in my dotage.

Arthur Wellesley, better known as the Duke of Wellington, once observed that the Battle of Waterloo was won “on the playing fields of Eton.”  He meant, of course, that the habits of preparation and competition developed through sports made his army superior to those he opposed.  I don’t know if he was right or, even if he was, that it justifies our obsession with sports.  I do know I am concentrating a little harder on preparing for important things this week.  My grandson has a wrestling match coming up, and I will be spending some time sitting on hard surfaces to make sure I’m up to the challenge.

I am encouraged by the response of community leaders to the impending closure of the IP mill in Millersburg.  Representatives of local businesses and government met earlier this week to come up with ideas about how to respond to the closure.  I don’t think there will be any quick solution to the problems created by this blow to the economy, but I know the community needs to actively work together to make something positive happen.

A front-page newspaper story about the meeting inspired a retired IP worker to call me with some ideas about possible reuse of the site.  These kinds of connections are the foundation of long-term solutions.  A meeting scheduled for next month with Oregon’s economic development director will also send a message that Albany-Millersburg  is not simply waiting around to see what happens.  The more energy and activity that can be created around the issue, the greater the likelihood the site will return to productive use.

The mill closure may seem like an abstract problem to people who don’t know any IP employees.  The plant’s location in Millersburg may also cause Albany residents to think that the effects here will be relatively small.  A former mill manager estimated that for every job lost at the plant, three jobs would disappear in the surrounding communities.  Suppliers, contractors, professionals, and merchants will all feel the loss of so many high-paying jobs.  Direct revenue loss to Albany city government will not be as high as it is in Millersburg, but the projected loss next year could cover the salaries and benefits of as many as four employees.

To paraphrase Mae West, I’ve been employed and I’ve been unemployed.  Believe me, employed is better.  I think it’s a worthy goal to unite behind an increased community effort to retain existing jobs, create new jobs, and assist those who are currently without work.  Albany’s Strategic Plan places heavy emphasis on building a healthy economy, recognizing that economic security is a fundamental part of making the town a good place to live.  The first response is a good one that needs to be sustained by the whole community.

Cathy Ingalls from the Democrat-Herald sent me an e-mail this morning asking how the closure would affect Albany city government.  I responded with the following message:

“The closure almost certainly will have an effect on the local housing market which could further depress new home and, possibly, commercial construction.  Declining construction activity directly affects our Community Development Department.  Albany city government receives no direct revenue from IP, but if Albany businesses that are suppliers to IP close, we could lose revenue as a result.

I think the greatest effect on us is the knowledge that more than 230 families in our area will be hurt by the closure.  Our job is to serve people by trying to make the community a better place.  Losing some of the community’s best paying jobs is a serious blow to that effort.”

I have already learned that my first impression of the effects on Albany was wrong.  Fire Chief John Bradner reminded me that we have a contract with the Albany Rural Fire District, which is directly affected by this closure.  The City could lose several hundred thousand dollars, depending on what happens with the assessed value of the property.  Public Works Director Diane Taniguchi-Dennis informed me that another business in Millersburg was dependent on International Paper for sewer service, and they will now need to work directly with us.  Service to industry can be complicated if their waste contains materials that are difficult to treat.

Mill closures are not new to Oregon, and I saw the effects of a particularly hard one when I served as the city administrator in Oakridge.  The most important lesson I learned from that event, more than 20 years ago, was the need to show the world that the community is a resilient place.  Bad things happen to everyone and every place at some point in time.  The challenge is to recover from the blow and begin work on shaping the future.  As the plant in Millersburg closes, a major new industrial facility is planned for construction at Oregon Freeze Dry in Albany and a medical school is being built in Lebanon.

Shortly after I received the call from Mayor Konopa about the mill closure, I was asked by my professional association to do some volunteer work in a remote area of Ethiopia for a few weeks in December.  The assignment is to help a community of nearly 100,000 people come up with a plan for dealing with solid waste (garbage).  The local government currently does limited collection and then dumps the refuse in a dry creek bed in the nearby desert.

Our starting point is so high relative to most of the world that what to us looks like a catastrophe would be a normal day in many places.  The misery of others is small consolation in troubled times, but it should serve as a reminder that our greatest blessing is our ability to face challenges with the sure knowledge we can overcome them.

Several years ago, I was a volunteer Scout leader at my church when one of our parents proposed a great fund-raising project.  Our troop would purchase 50 U.S. flags, mount them on an eight-foot length of PVC pipe, and then sell flag subscriptions to local residents.  Subscribers would pay $25 for our Scouts to put up the flags in front of their homes at sunrise on Labor Day, Veterans’ Day, Presidents’ Day, Memorial Day, Flag Day, and the Fourth of July and take them down at sunset.  The idea was a big hit in La Grande, and the troop earned good money for their efforts.  Somehow, I found myself in charge of the project over a three- or four-year period in the late 1990s and early years of this decade.

We had a great group of young men in our Scout troop in those days, and I generally enjoyed getting up before dawn on holidays to help put up the flags.  We received many compliments from our subscribers and local residents; so the project also seemed to build some community good will.  The day after the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, my son and I delivered the flags to subscribers and asked that they display them for the next week.  We could do very little for the victims of the tragedy in its immediate aftermath, but we were at least able to show we cared.

Our Scout troop eventually earned enough money from our flag project and exhausted our volunteers to the point that we decided to end the program by selling the flags to our subscribers.  I purchased one for our family, and we still put it out on holidays when we are home.  I need to confess, however, that I have never equated patriotism with putting up an American flag in front of my house.  My father, a career U.S. Naval officer who saw combat in WWII and Korea, taught me that patriotism is measured by the sacrifices you make for your country rather than by the presence of a flag decal on your car window.

I trudge out to put up our flag on selected holidays because I care about what it represents.  I passionately believe we should be able to govern ourselves and government of the people, by the people, and for the people is a wonderful and important responsibility.   A flag is no guarantor of this fundamental right, but at least it shows we still care.

The fundamental difference between a mayor and city manager is that mayors are elected and managers aren’t.  Winning an election entitles a mayor to privileges and responsibilities that a city manager should never aspire to, much less possess.  Mayors are not only free to engage in political activities, it’s important that they do so.  Mayors are elected because of their politics, even when they hold nonpartisan positions.  Mayors are, in short, living examples of local democracy at work.  Good mayors do their best to effectively represent their constituents by making decisions that produce the greatest good for the greatest number.  Representative government does not mean that a mayor will always do exactly what a majority of citizens might wish at a given moment, but rather what their constituents would do to advance the common good if they had the best information available.

City managers are appointed by mayors and city councils on the basis of the manager’s education and experience.  Elected officials rightly expect that a manager’s decisions and actions will be guided by professionalism, ethical principles, and the will of the city council.  Managers are not free to be Republican, Democratic, or Libertarian administrators; and those who subscribe to the International City-County Management Association Code of Ethics are specifically prohibited from any political activity beyond voting.  City managers represent bureaucracy or the implementation of the decisions made by democratically elected mayors and councils.  Managers who stray into the political arena lack the legitimacy endowed by an election, not to mention good survival instincts.

As a young city administrator, I worked for a mayor whom I greatly respected; and when he decided to run for the county commission, he asked if I would help out with his primary campaign.  My wife and I made a small financial contribution and handed out brochures in a neighboring city.  I was not a member of the International City-County Management Association (ICMA) at the time and had not read the organization’s Code of Ethics.  Our mayor lost the election, and it was fortunate that the eventual winner probably had no knowledge of my participation in the campaign.  The city I worked for could have paid a heavy price for my ignorance if the new commissioner held a grudge every time we needed something from the county.  More importantly, my political activity invalidated my claim to being an objective analyst of public policy.  I believe it is critically important that a politically neutral, objective analysis be available to decision makers as they consider public policy.  If the city manager’s objectivity is compromised by political activity, an important perspective may never get to the table.

The council-manager form of government works well when there is common understanding about the differing roles of elected officials and managers.  I have no aspirations to become a mayor, and I’m grateful that our mayor and council focus on policy rather than administration.

Life routinely gives us examples and object lessons.  At a recent news conference announcing that the remains of murder victim Brooke Wilberger had been located, Cami Wilberger, Brooke’s mother, made the following statement:  “Thank you for being so supportive over the last five and a half years. It’s been a long haul for all of us, but today we are grateful.  At this time, we really feel gratitude, even to Mr. Courtney, who could see fit to tell us where he left Brooke.”  As a parent and grandparent, I do not know that I could ever find the strength of character to express gratitude to someone who so maliciously harmed a family member.  I pray I am never put to that test.

I know, however, that I will face smaller provocations.  People often find reasons to be angry with their city government for reasons ranging from traffic tickets and water rates to land use decisions and animal regulation.  Sometimes the passion associated with these disagreements seems disproportionate to harm, real or imagined.  I know my reaction can make these situations worse or help resolve them.  I also know what I do can be as dependent on how I’m feeling as on whatever an angry citizen might be saying to me.

I have tried to train myself over the years to delay my reaction when someone is angry or upset with me.  Offering someone a cup of coffee or the chance to come into my office to explain the problem gives me some time and sometimes helps people feel more at ease. I freely confess that I still find ways to get mad at times when I probably shouldn’t, but I’m usually able to control myself enough that I don’t make a bad situation worse.  Frequently, I find that the upset person in front of me will help find the solution once they have been shown some respect and courtesy.

I greatly appreciate the example of equanimity from people like the Wilberger family, who even in the worst of circumstances remain true to their beliefs and ideals.  No one could blame them for being angry or vengeful, yet they chose a different course.  I think their decision almost certainly yielded the most comfort and healing for the family, while also providing a great example for anyone paying attention.

We might also remember that the most destructive wars in history took place more than 60 years ago; so, it would be hard to argue that at a time when genocide and mass destruction were taking place on a global scale that somehow people were more civil to one another.

My concern is more local.  I believe many of us never learned or have forgotten that civility begins with some basic assumptions.  I think we have to assume that other people’s motives are as legitimate as our own until we see compelling evidence they are not.  People say inaccurate things all the time, but that doesn’t mean everyone is a liar.  Disagreements are also part of daily life, and most of us realize that a disagreement with a spouse doesn’t mean that our partner has evil intentions or is mentally impaired.  At least 50 percent of marriages do not end in divorce; so, apparently, a majority of people understand this principle.

We can also assume that responding to incivility with equal or greater incivility will lead to a bad outcome.  Flashing the one-finger salute to a rude driver may provide a moment of satisfaction or it could lead to a needless confrontation with a really nasty person.  The young Oregon football player who responded to a stupid taunt from an opposing team member with a punch to his face sacrificed the remainder of his college football career and probably some NFL cash by escalating incivility.

Those of us who work in government often fail to remember these lessons.  It’s now a national sport to criticize government, and everyone’s favorite target is the federal government.  State workers can lob insults at federal agencies, secure in the knowledge that almost no one will disagree.  City workers can point to the intransigence and arrogance of the state.  The only reason, in my opinion, that local government typically scores higher in public opinion polls than the state or federal levels is that we have no layer of government below us.

My solution to incivility is not to avoid disagreements or ignore bad behavior.  Rather, we need to focus on the problem, not the person.  People respond most negatively when they are not respected and/or humiliated.  Most of us can handle the idea that someone disagrees with something we say or believe.  We get testy, however, when someone calls us dishonest, incompetent, or stupid.  Attacking an idea can be a productive way to create understanding and reveal the truth.  Attacking people usually leads to a less desirable outcome.