Triad Today

Every year around the end of June, I used to write about the dangers of fireworks, and every year, the feedback I received from friend and foe alike was almost always the same: “Come on Jim, don’t be a wet blanket. You’ve got to have fireworks on the Fourth of July!” It became obvious that my annual call for banning fireworks was falling on deaf ears (pardon the expression). In fact, the only positive feedback I ever received was from pet lovers whose dogs go into convulsions during holiday explosions. Then, last month came a ray of hope when most North Carolina localities announced they were cancelling their annual fireworks displays due to concerns over crowd control and the spread of COVID-19. But my elation was short-lived when I realized that a decrease in municipal fireworks celebrations would just mean an increase in private celebrations. Sure enough, come dusk on July 4^th, people all over the Triad started firing rockets into the sky, and not just the kind that produce pretty colors. The fireworks shot off near our neighborhood produced eardrum-bursting sounds akin to cannon fire, and take my word for it, my family didn’t feel patriotic, we just felt violated. Pardon my French, but this shit has got to stop, and not just because of loud noises.

According to a report by the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, hospital emergency rooms treated over 9,000 people for fireworks related injuries in 2018. That number jumped to over 10,000 last year, and children under the age of 15 account for 36% of those injuries. Dr. Erin Miller, a hand surgeon at Harborview Medical Center in Seattle, told the Associated Press that she amputated 42 fingers due to fireworks injuries last year alone. And, each year more than a dozen people are killed because of fireworks. National figures aren’t available for 2020 yet, but already reports are trickling in from select cities. In Cleveland, at least 17 people were injured from fireworks over this past Fourth of July weekend, and complaints about fireworks in that city tripled from 2019.

And then there’s the matter of fires. According to the National Fire Protection Association, fireworks are responsible for starting approximately 20,000 fires each year. Of those, nearly 2,000 are structure fires, 500 are vehicle fires, and over 17,000 are outside fires. Moreover, the NFPA estimates that fireworks-related fires cause over $105 million dollars in direct property damage. But there are other types of damage as well. For example, studies by the EPA show that chemical residue from fireworks is causing an increasing amount of environmental damage, including the pollution of lakes, ponds, and ground water. Meanwhile, Science Daily reported that children with asthma had more frequent attacks because of smoke generated from fireworks displays.

Given the number of injuries and deaths caused by fireworks, as well as damage to property, and adverse effects on health and the environment, it would seem that fireworks would be illegal, and they are…sort of. Here in North Carolina, consumers are prohibited from detonating “explosives or aerial fireworks, roman candles, and rockets or similar devices” (NC general statutes 14-410 through 14-415, and 58-82a-1 through 58-82a-55). In fact, possession of those prohibited fireworks is a Class II misdemeanor, but that’s hardly a weighty enough prosecutorial classification for the illegal use of such dangerous explosives.

Last week I spoke by phone with NC Insurance Commissioner Mike Causey who also serves as our state’s Fire Marshal. I asked him what can be done to actually deter fireworks violators. Causey explained that the only way to ensure enforcement is for the General Assembly to amend the statutes in such a way as to include stiffer criminal penalties. In the meantime, Causey and his team continue to produce educational videos and materials that warn against the dangers of fireworks. “It’s not worth the risk, especially when you mix fireworks and alcohol,” he told me. And, the Commissioner said he is ready and willing to appear before the General Assembly armed with statistics on those dangers, should a bill ever be introduced that would seek to further clarify and criminalize consumer use of deadly fireworks.

Currently, state statutes allow for municipalities to present professionally executed fireworks displays operated by vendors who must be properly credentialed and insured in order to fire off rockets and other explosives. Meanwhile, consumers are free to enjoy sparklers and party poppers in their own back yard. The question remains, is there a legislator who will step up to the plate and introduce a bill that will severely punish those who think their back yard is a launching pad for dangerous, deafening missiles? Put another way: Is there a lawmaker willing to endure the fireworks that will ensue from proposing a ban on fireworks? My dogs certainly hope so.

While serving as Chairman of the Southern Governors Association, Virginia Governor Doug Wilder asked me to produce a documentary about how he and his nineteen colleagues worked together to deal with matters of regional concern, ranging from increasing trade with Central America, to decreasing the infant mortality rate. The SGA also focused on emergency preparedness initiatives, including how to respond to, and help each other when confronted with, a natural disaster. I was struck by how transparent and cooperative these governors were, especially given that the Association’s membership represented chief executives who hailed from both political parties. Yes, they were strong-willed, principled leaders who knew how to bend the rules, but they also realized the importance of working across the aisles, including within their own states. It’s how Wilder was able to pass the nation’s first handgun legislation, and operate with an annual surplus while increasing funding for social services. If only we had the likes of Wilder and Ann Richards to help us through the COVID pandemic. Instead we have governors who continue to act unilaterally at a time when they should be seeking a consensus.

In April of this year, The National Review’s David Harsanyi highlighted examples of government overreach in eight different states. Those included: Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmire unilaterally banning garden stores from selling fruit or vegetable plants; the governors of Vermont and Indiana dictating that Walmart, Costco, and Target stop selling “non-essential” items such as clothing; The governor of Vermont banning people from purchasing seeds for their gardens; Philadelphia police dragging a passenger off of a bus because the governor mandated the wearing of face masks; Police in Brighton, Colorado arresting and handcuffing a father for playing T-ball with his daughter in an empty park because the governor ordered parks off limits; Massachusetts police arresting three men for crossing the state line to play golf; Kentucky Governor Greg Fischer’s attempt to ban drive-in church services just before Easter; and Wisconsin Governor Tony Evers invoking his emergency powers, giving him the right to do just about anything he wants during the pandemic, including seizing private property.

Unfortunately our own Governor Roy Cooper is guilty of similar abuses and inconsistencies. Cooper was supposed to have sought concurrence from our duly elected Council of State officers before proceeding with any executive orders or closures during the pandemic. But according to Speaker of the House Tim Moore, Cooper abandoned that legal precedent, “when some members of the Council of State objected to his plan.” Last week, after Cooper vetoed several bills that would have reaffirmed the role of the Council, and brought relief to shuttered businesses, Speaker Moore said, “Families and individuals are desperate for a balanced approach to recovery that protects the public’s health without permanently devastating small businesses across our state…it is clear that Governor Cooper is unwilling to prioritize struggling North Carolinians over his own power.”

Meanwhile, Cooper’s opponent in November, Lt. Governor Dan Forest, is preparing to sue the Governor for doing an end run around our Council of State, and ordering closure of some businesses while extending restrictions on others. “The Governor has repeatedly ignored the law, enacting mandates that selectively target the businesses and citizens of North Carolina without concurrence from a majority of the Council of State,” said Forest in a press release late last month.

Of course, the deck is stacked against Cooper in that regard because the ten-member Council of State comprises four Democrats and six Republicans. As Speaker Moore alluded to, Cooper knew that the Council’s Republican majority would never go along with his various Executive orders and phase-in plans, but instead of compromising, he went full-bore ahead without any checks and balances in place to stop him.

But Cooper’s abuses of power aren’t just of concern to political opponents. Groups representing churches and bowling alleys have successfully challenged the Governor in Court. And, according to WBT, more than two dozen media outlets around the state have filed suit against Cooper because he refuses to release COVID-19 related records, including a database that details the actual number of cases, and communication between various state officials and local health departments.

In March of this year, Miriam Seifter, an associate professor at the University of Wisconsin Law School, addressed the issue of gubernatorial abuses in an article for the Harvard Law Review. Dr. Seifter noted that framers of, “Early state constitutions…were concerned… because they believed colonial governors abused their power. Today a vigilant public is an important check against just making sure that these powers, which are extremely important in controlling epidemics, are exercised in a responsible and nondiscriminatory way.”

No doubt some of Governor Cooper’s orders initially helped to stem the tide of COVID cases, and prevented our hospitals from becoming overwhelmed. Nevertheless, it is incumbent upon the Governor going forward, to be more forthcoming, transparent, and cooperative in developing his ongoing strategies to battle COVID-19.

In the summer of 1977, I witnessed something I’ve never experienced before or since. I was holding court in a Century City hotel where CBS shuttled their primetime stars in and out of my suite for two straight days. I was there to tape interviews that we could broadcast back home on our local affiliate, and the network stars were there to boost ratings for their series. As the days wore on, my tech crew got so used to seeing celebrities stroll into the suite, that they would casually talk among themselves and fiddle with equipment as each actor entered.

Then it happened. Robert Wagner arrived for his appointed interview, and the room went dead silent. There was no talking, no clanging of light stands, just complete silence. All of us, men and women alike, were mesmerized by his old-style Hollywood elegance and boyish smile. On that day, R.J. was there to promote Switch, a private eye drama co-starring his friend Eddie Albert and a young Sharon Gless before she rose to stardom in Cagney & Lacey. We talked about a lot of things that day, but my memory is clouded by the passage of 43 years and the fact that I was star-struck to begin with.

What I do know is that in the years since, I came to realize that R.J.’s elegance, charm, and kindness were 100% genuine. For example, 30 years after our first meeting, R.J. rushed from the set of Two and a Half Men and grabbed a red-eye flight here to Winston-Salem to help our Humane Society raise money for a no-kill animal shelter. Thanks in part to R.J.’s celebrity draw, the shelter was eventually built, and in a very short time, we increased our save rate from 36% to over 70%.

Earlier this year, R.J. turned a youthful 90, and this summer, he celebrates his 70^th year in show business. Recently, while everyone was still sheltering at home, R.J. and I had a socially-distant phone conversation about his remarkable career, which began with a cameo as a baseball player in 1950’s The Happy Years.

JL: You were only in the movie for a few seconds, but it looked to me as though you could really play ball.

RJ: Well, I had played baseball in school, but I give credit to the editor for making me look good [laughs]. Actually, Bill Wellman gave me that break. My father knew Bill from the Bel-Air Country Club, and he said, “My son wants to be in the picture business. Is there anything you can do?” And Bill gave me that shot.

Young Wagner also made a lot of high-profile friends of his own at the Club, including Cary Grant, Fred Astaire, and Clark Gable, who helped to open doors for him. Before long, R.J. was under contract at 20^th Century Fox, where he played everything from a soldier to a prince before landing a game-changing role in 1954’s Broken Lance, a western starring Spencer Tracy.

RJ: That was my favorite picture, and it did so much for me. Mr. Tracy gave me co-star billing above the title, and that took me out of being just another guy in Hollywood. It put me in a whole different position. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Broken Lance changed my life completely.

Wagner went on to appear in over 60 films, but landed his first lead role on television in 1968 with It Takes a Thief, co-starring his friend Fred Astaire.

JL: You wrote in your book, Pieces of My Heart, that Fred once advised you to just “keep going.” What did he mean?

RJ: Just don’t let anything stop you. If you get turned down—if you get rejected, which is all the time, I mean, actors get rejected constantly—he said, “just keep your head up and keep going.”

And that’s what R.J. did after Thief was canceled. He starred in Colditz, a short-lived WWII drama, then co-starred with Eddie Albert in Switch, all the while taking on supporting roles in such films as The Towering Inferno and Midway. Then, in 1979, R.J. struck gold with Hart to Hart, which ran for five seasons and spawned eight TV movies, and a lasting friendship with Stefanie Powers. One of R.J.’s other co-stars in that series was Freeway the dog.

RJ: Most Hollywood dogs work on hand signals, but Freeway didn’t respond to that, so his trainer would be off-set while Stefanie and I were in the middle of a love scene, and all you’d hear from the trainer is, “Come on, come on, come on.” I’d be like, “Darling I love you,” then we’d hear, “come on, come on.”

JL: Was there a lot of panting during that scene?

RJ: Yeah, from me and from the dog.

JL: You’ve always been sort of the romantic lead, but was there ever a time when your good looks kept you from getting an acting job, or from being taken seriously as an actor?

RJ: Oh, I don’t know. It’s possible. But a guy wouldn’t come up to you and say, “We wouldn’t cast you in this picture because you’re a good-looking guy.” [both laugh] I mean, I never had that happen. But I’ve been very fortunate with all that.

JL: Well, you certainly had the looks to play a great James Bond. In fact, you and Cubby Broccoli talked about your becoming 007 after George Lazenby dropped out. Why didn’t you take that role?

RJ: Because I’m too American. I think I would have had to do it with an accent; besides, Roger (Moore) was a perfect choice.

JL: But if you had been James Bond, aren’t there some villainous studio heads or critics that you’d like to have put in your ejector seat?

RJ: Oh, God. [laughs] That’s a good question.

JL: You’re not going to name names, are you?

RJ: No, I don’t think so.

JL: Are there any TV or movie roles you turned down that you wish you hadn’t?

RJ: You know I was offered Westworld, and that would have been interesting, but I was doing something else at the time.

At that point in our conversation, I mentioned it was our friend Richard Benjamin who took the role in Westworld, and that prompted R.J. to comment on Dick’s participation in the recent documentary Natalie Wood: What Remains Behind, which was produced by Wagner’s daughter, Natasha.

RJ: Did you see the documentary?

JL: I did, and it was superb.

RJ: I’m so glad you reacted the way you did because what Natasha wanted to have happen out of that documentary is for people to remember her mother as she lived, not as she died.

JL: Natasha’s film was really a breath of fresh air amidst the stink of today’s tabloid media who thrive on sensationalism, but let’s face it, there have always been trash magazines that went after Hollywood celebrities.

RJ: But we weren’t free-game then. Now we’re free-game, and anybody can write anything they want to, and not source it or attribute it.

JL: You once said that your friend Cary Grant worked hard to achieve a sense of ease about his celebrity. Has it been the same for you? Or, did that sense of ease about your celebrity just come natural?

RJ: I don’t feel uneasy about it, but I feel very grateful, very grateful. I’ve been so fortunate in my career, and I really haven’t done a hell of a lot to get that. I’ve just been very, very lucky, Jim.

Bobby Kimbrough, Jr. has faced a number of challenges in his life. In 2005 he lost his wife, and has since raised their seven sons alone. In 2018, after retiring as a special agent with the D.E.A., he challenged a popular incumbent, and became the first African American ever elected Sheriff in Forsyth County. And in 2020, he has helped to keep order at a time when two diseases, COVID and racism, have overtaken our society. Today, Kimbrough oversees a department with 600 employees including over 230 sworn deputies. Bobby was a guest on my Triad Today program recently, and we talked about law enforcement and race relations.

JL: You wrote “Surviving the Stop” in 2016. What kind of information do you offer in the book, and is it still relevant today?

BK: Oh, very relevant. The book is a thumbnail sketch of how you should interact with police when being stopped on the side of the road, and how you interact with police in situations that could save lives. Because it’s a relationship that can take place quickly, and depending on how it takes place, determines the outcome.

JL: In the book, you wrote, “Police don’t leave work in the morning planning to kill an African American.” Do you still believe that? And, if so, how do you account for so many recent incidents of excessive force?

BK: I don’t think police wake up with the intent of killing someone, but sometimes there are people who work in law enforcement who have racial issues, racism. And so the slightest interaction with the public can trigger all those things that have been dormant, and comes to the surface. Because how I see you will determine how I respond to you.

JL: And somewhat ironically, African American officers will tell you that for Black folks who don’t like police, it’s the uniform they see, not the skin color of the officer.

BK: Of course because their brush is painted so broad that one incident or two or three incidents affects all of us who carry a shield, whether it’s a gold badge, federal badge, local or state. It affects all of us.

JL: Some cities are considering whether or not to defund or dismantle their police departments. Is that the best way to weed out bad officers?

BK: I don’t think we need to defund. I think we need to re-construct, re-configure, re-tool things. But how are we going to defund an organization that is already underfunded? We need to have more funding in law enforcement to pay for better training. An example is the Federal government. Every 5 years they re-investigate their agents. They send them back through the same process that they do when they hire them. Local and state governments don’t do that because of lack of funding. So I think that more funding would help us hire and keep better officers, and also assure more quality control.

JL: More and more leaders are calling for a national registry that would weed out officers who have a history of excessive force. If that happens, then those officers would not be able to get hired by any other law enforcement agency. Good idea?

BK: In every state the top law enforcement official is the Attorney General. In order for a registry to work it has to have some teeth, in other words it has to be mandated. not a registry that is optional. So for example if there is a complaint against an officer, it must be registered with the AG’s office. That way, it’s a law and the incident is documented. And if it gets to a point where your agency has so many complaints, then we notify your agency. And also, if that officer leaves, anyone wishing to hire that person would have to check with the AG’s office to see if there have been any complaints.

JL: There have also been some localities who want to defund their School Resource Officer program. What are your thoughts on that?

BK: I understand people talk about the school to prison pipeline, I get that. But there are so many things that go into that. It has a lot to do with how the children in our schools are being educated, how well they read. All of these things are factored in. But when it comes to school resource officers, the program that we have built in Forsyth county, matches our officers with their school, because each school has a different personality. We’ve also changed the SRO uniform. We also have all of our staff volunteering in schools across the County. I teach a class every Thursday, and I am grateful that the Superintendent allows me to do that.

JL: You are a Sheriff elected by the people. You are a man of color. You are the father of 7 sons. Given what we’ve been going though in this country lately, are you at all conflicted by any of those roles in your own life every day?

BK: I’ve cried a lot over the last couple of months because I’m hurt by what I see. We as a country have got to remove some of the barriers, remove some of the stigmas, remove some of the racism, and realize that we’re in this together. Both of the Pandemics we’re experiencing are contagious, and both are lethal, and we need each other. So the words I say to my sons is we have to remove the racism. It’s 2020 and we’ve got to do some things totally different. You and I just talked about why all of these things are happening now. Maybe it’s causing us to see things from a different vantage point. Think about it: 2020 also relates to eyesight.

Despite recent events, Sheriff Bobby Kimbrough’s vision for the future is clear and hopeful, and that should give us comfort in these uncertain times.

Sports fans know that the most egregious sin a football player can commit is a face mask violation, which carries with it a substantial penalty, and with good reason. Face masks are required in football because they help to protect the players, and grabbing a man’s face mask can result in serious injury, even death. Over the past several months, face masks of a different kind are helping to protect us against the spread of COVID-19, and those who refuse to wear them, put themselves and others at risk. Or do they?

Last week, Governor Roy Cooper said he was considering making everyone wear a face mask. Meanwhile those opposed to such government regulations were busy burning their face masks in protest. Clearly, Cooper can enact a mandatory face mask law, but, unlike in football, he cannot dispatch referees to every corner of the state to enforce his rule. And so, the debate over face masks rages on, and includes such points of contention as: Do masks really prevent the spread of COVID-19? If so, to what degree? Who really needs to wear a mask? Can businesses require customers to wear face masks? And, does government have the power to require all citizens to wear masks? Let’s begin with conflicting arguments from health care professionals.

The Centers for Disease Control is crystal clear on this matter: the agency advises all Americans to wear face masks. According to The Daily Mail, the CDC even went so far as to advise people who couldn’t find a face mask, to make their own device, or else wear a scarf “when travelling on public transport or in supermarkets.” Why? Because wearing a mask keeps respiratory droplets from getting airborne. Sans mask, the CDC says those droplets can take flight whenever someone talks, coughs, or sneezes. Speaking with the Winston-Salem Journal, Dr. Christopher Ohl, an infectious disease expert at Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center, says that masks reduce the infection rate by more than half. “Masks work,” said Ohl. “The aspect that there’s more harm than good from a mask just isn’t there.”

But not everyone agrees that masks are the best way to keep the pandemic under control. The World Health Organization, for example, still does not recommend mandatory wearing of face masks because they say there is no definitive proof that masks prevent infection. Even the Mayo Clinic, which supports the wearing of face masks, advises that there are exceptions to the rule. For example, a person with breathing problems should not wear a mask, and neither should a child under the age of 2. On the flip side, even most opponents of face mask mandates agree that PPEs are necessary for those who work in nursing homes and doctor’s offices.

In general, though, anti-maskers say that so long as we keep our social distance from others and wash our hands frequently, then it is almost impossible for the virus to spread. That argument seems to be falling on deaf ears. The city of Raleigh has recently ordered the mandatory wearing of face masks, UNCG just announced a similar policy last week, and Governor Cooper may enact a statewide mandate at any moment. Meanwhile, folks who oppose mandatory face masks might have more to protest than just a gubernatorial order. Last week, one major airline said that any passenger caught not wearing a mask, would be banned from all future flights. If that trend catches on, then watch for other industries to follow suit, and consumer groups to mount all sorts of legal challenges.

Despite the vitriol surrounding face masks, we’re all trying to find our way toward a new normal, and it doesn’t help that we keep getting mixed messages from the WHO, the CDC, the White House, the State House, and the private sector. And don’t look for a consistent message from local elected officials either. Walk into most any meeting of a county board or city council, and you’ll see some members wearing face masks and others without them. What we need, then, are some designated referees who all agree on the rules, and can help us follow them. No one wants to be penalized for not knowing what the penalties are.

 
 

In 2002, conservative Republican Attorney General John Ashcroft ordered that nude statues adorning the Department of Justice be covered up, so that when he gave impromptu TV interviews, people wouldn’t see bare breasts and genitalia over his shoulder. Ashcroft became the “butt” of jokes because of his puritanical censorship of fine art. Today millions of people are demanding the removal of statues for entirely different reasons, and there’s nothing funny about their motives.

Over the past few years our nation has been removing symbols that are perceived by some to be racist. Colleges whose buildings were named for slave owners and white supremacists have since renamed those structures. Local and state governments have taken down Confederate flags. And, statues of Confederate soldiers have been vandalized, torn down, and re-located. The controversy over offensive symbols has intensified as an increasing number of unarmed African Americans have died at the hands of white cops. Suddenly the national conversation has turned from some folks being offended by reminders of past racism, to all folks being horrified by ongoing racism. The problem is that tearing down statues does nothing to end racism.

As I noted in a previous column, my friend Larry Womble and I talked about a lot of issues over the years, including a conversation we had regarding a Confederate statue in front of the old Forsyth County courthouse. Larry remarked to me that he had driven past that statue hundreds of times and never realized that it depicted a Confederate soldier. “It just wasn’t something that was on my radar,” he told me. The fact is, the statue hadn’t been on anybody’s radar for nearly a hundred years, but it was removed anyway because it had become a symbol of unchecked oppression to a new generation living in a time of unchecked brutality. OK, so now the statue is gone. So is Silent Sam in Chapel Hill. So is Jeff Davis in Richmond. So is General Williams Wickham in Richmond. Meanwhile, Virginia Governor Ralph Northam (who admitted to once wearing blackface at a party) wants to get rid of all Confederate statues along Monument Avenue. And yet, in spite of flags and namesakes, and statues having been removed, racism is a bigger problem now than ever before. People of color are still unfairly profiled and detained. Police are still using tear gas, pepper spray, and choke holds. Peaceful protests are still hijacked by rioters and looters. White supremacists are still driving their trucks into crowds of African Americans, and posting racist threats on social media. Unarmed black men are still being murdered. So much for tearing down statues.

I have no personal stake in Confederate monuments, so I’m OK with relocating them to appropriate museums and cemeteries. Meanwhile, we need to start erecting statues to honor African American leaders. But if we really want things to change, then we must initiate substantive reforms in policing. We must establish a national registry of abusive cops so that once fired, they can never be hired by another police department or security firm. We must hope that all cities follow the lead of Greensboro Police Chief Brian James who has just outlawed the use of chokeholds. We must demand that local budgets be adjusted to include more social services and an emphasis on educational parity. And we must all get behind the “Justice in Policing Act”, which was introduced by House Democrats last week.

It’s easy for politicians and protestors to get rid of statues, but it’s a lot harder for them to get rid of systematic racism. Given the choice, I’d rather them focus more on the latter, and less on the former.

 
 

There’s no doubt about it. Donald Trump tweets some nasty things about people. He also uses Twitter to fire people and fire up people. He gives dangerous medical advice via Twitter, and he tweets about his imagined superiority on an almost daily basis. Trump uses Twitter a lot. In fact, he was the first presidential candidate and is the first president to use that platform as his primary source of communication with the public. The problem is that nearly everything Trump tweets is either untrue or inflammatory. He did not have the largest crowd in inaugural history. Clorox is not safe to inject or ingest. He does not hire the best people. Obama was not born overseas and he did not wiretap Trump’s office. And, we have not defeated either ISIS or COVID-19. Independent fact-checking sources tell us that since taking office, Donald Trump has told in excess of 15,000 lies, many of them having been communicated via Twitter. Sadly, we have become almost normalized to the effects of those lies, some of which have even glorified violence, and Twitter has done nothing to keep us from being infected by them, until now, that is.

Last week, protests and riots broke out across the nation following an incident in which Derek Chauvin, a white Minneapolis cop, killed George Floyd, an unarmed black man. Trump implied in a tweet that the protestors (aka,“thugs”) should be shot. Earlier that same week, the President tweeted that MSNBC host and former congressman Joe Scarborough should be investigated for the murder of a woman who worked in Scarborough’s congressional office. In fact, the woman in question, 28-year-old Lori Klausutis, died from a fall, caused by a heart condition. But Trump isn’t the kind of person to let the facts get in the way of a good story. This wasn’t the first time he had alluded to a murder plot, and he was in the process of doubling down on that heinous rumor when the Minneapolis incident occurred. Twitter stepped in and began posting disclaimers in conjunction with the President’s tweets. Angered by what he considered to be bias and censorship, the President issued an executive order directing the FCC and FTC to study the viability of imposing new regulations on social media companies.

At first glance, Trump’s order seemed dangerously totalitarian, but this particular knee-jerk reaction may actually result in some much-needed legislation. Radio and television broadcasters, for example, are licensed and regulated by the federal government. If a TV station refuses to meet the needs of a particular group of viewers, or violates community standards, or if an anchorperson spews a bunch of expletives on air, then that TV station could incur a hefty fine and even lose its license. Twitter, Facebook and other similar companies, however, are not regulated. They are protected by Section 230 of the 1996 Communications Decency Act, which recognizes them as platforms rather than publishers. Thus, social media giants can’t be sued or fined, or shut down. For years now, I have called on Congress and the FCC to regulate Twitter and Facebook the same way they do broadcasters, but our elected officials don’t seem inclined to initiate such a change. Too bad, because too many people have been hurt emotionally and financially by malicious and false statements posted on social media. Take for instance the case of Lori Drew, who set up a MySpace account under a false name, with the express purpose of sending libelous and harassing messages to a 13-year-old neighbor girl. The girl subsequently committed suicide.

I don’t know how Trump’s executive order will play out, but if it leads to legislation which regulates and punishes social media companies, and convicts customers who abuse those platforms, then the President’s seemingly totalitarian action may end up being the best thing to happen to the internet since Al Gore says he invented it.

In a world gone mad with partisan political bickering, gridlock, racist comments, obfuscations, and unethical stock transactions, we, as a society, have come to expect very little of our elected officials. Statesmanship, accountability, and leadership are in short supply these days, which is one reason why I am so saddened by the loss of Larry Womble. Larry had a distinguished career as an educator, legislator, and social activist. He moved mountains through the sheer power of impassioned persuasion, and helped to pass landmark legislation without alienating his opponents. He cared about others and put their needs above his own. He was a seminal figure in the history of our state, and he was my friend. Larry Womble passed away on May 14. He was 78.

Larry and I often referred to ourselves as a couple of Winston-Salem boys, but the issues he fought for were anything but provincial. He was responsible for repealing a law that allowed the state to sterilize someone against their will, and then he won compensation for victims of those sterilizations. He made us aware of racial disparities in the criminal justice system, and he gave us his personal guarantee that lottery funds would go to help schools. Larry also lobbied to require companies who built their fortune on the backs of slavery, to own up to their actions as a pre-requisite to doing business with the state.

On a personal note, Larry was a sounding board for me. One day at lunch I told him that I had been approached to run for office, and I asked his advice. “Are you prepared to devote all of your time to the job, and be away from home for weeks on end?, ”he asked. I said “No”, and that was the end of my short-lived political career. Larry knew that I was doing what I was supposed to be doing, and that’s why he was always so supportive of Triad Today, on which he made a number of appearances.

One such visit to our studio came on September 2, 2005. He had just left Raleigh after an extended legislative session, and was about to board a plane for Africa. It was not his first trip to that continent, and I wondered why he kept returning there each year. Said Larry, “I was surprised on my first visit to Africa and some of the small villages, when the kids asked me, ‘could you send us some books?’ And I said I can do that, and I’ve been sending books over there ever since. If somebody is determined to have a book, they ought to have a book.”

Larry made good on that promise, and in just a few short years, he had delivered over 55,000 books to African children. What’s more, Larry paid for the books out of his own pocket. That was Larry. Always helping, always leading.

Politically, Larry was a Democrat, so his activism for racial justice and other social issues was not surprising. But he never let party politics take precedent over common sense and fair play. For example, once during an interview, I mentioned how the Libertarian Party couldn’t get on the ballot in North Carolina because it hadn’t met the threshold of garnering 10% of the vote in the previous election. Rather than toe the line in defense of the two-party system, Larry said, “I support moving the threshold down to 2%, because we need to open the doors for more political parties.” In effect, Larry was fighting for the rights of candidates who might one day run against him. That was Larry. Always helping, always leading.

Larry retired from public office in 2012 after sustaining debilitating injuries in an automobile crash, but he remained engaged in and informed about current events. He was still an activist even when he couldn’t be active.

During the controversy over Confederate statues, Larry’s friend and my buddy, Keith Grandberry remarked that the problem wasn’t so much about honoring so many white leaders, as it was not honoring any black leaders. I couldn’t agree more, and if we want to rectify that problem, then erecting a monument to Larry Womble would be a perfect place to start. I just hope that his statue is life size. I’d say about 20 feet tall would do it.

Thus far, 2020 has been anything but a banner year for Greensboro. Except for Charlotte, the Gate City area has had more deaths resulting from COVID-19 than any other locality in the state. And so, we tend to forget that on February 1, the citizens of Greensboro actually had some good news to celebrate. That’s the day Brian James was sworn in as the city’s 23^rd Chief of Police. James, who has served on the police force for over two decades, is a native of Greensboro, attended Page High School, and was graduated from NC A&T. Chief James stopped by the Triad Today studio in March to talk about his promotion, and the challenges he faces in his new job.

Jim: Who or what led you to a career in law enforcement?

Brian: It was actually one of my neighbors who was a police officer. His name is Tony Phifer. He’s a retired captain with the Greensboro Police Department, so he was the first police officer I really knew and gave me an interest in law enforcement.

Jim: How old were you when you met Tony?

Brian: Probably high school, around 16 or 17 years old, and he had just gotten on the police force back then.

Jim: You recently completed a series of community meetings. What have you learned from them?

Brian: We look at stats all the time. We look at crime figures to determine where our people should be, and where we should try and improve our services. But you really can’t substitute talking with people. And what I’ve learned is there are a lot of problems that don’t show up in crime numbers, and there are things we should be concerned about. In some areas of town, a particular problem may not pop up as a crime stat, but it is an issue that law enforcement should address.

Jim: A lot of people of color who I talk with either have a distrust of, or a disdain for police. What are you going to do to try and change that dynamic?

Brian: Part of the strategy is getting out in front of people, so I’ve got to be that face, and I want all of my people to follow that lead. I want us to be able get out in front of people, talk about issues, whether they’re good or bad. And if we’ve made a mistake, we want to admit to it and fix it as quick as possible. But really find out on the front end what people are seeing that they don’t like, and maybe there’s some things we can correct before they happen. So I think to build that trust they have to get to know me as a person, and once they get to know me, hopefully they’ll get to trust me.

Jim: Get to know you as a person and not as a uniform.

Brian: Correct.

Jim: Let’s talk about gun violence, which isn’t just a problem in Greensboro. It’s all over the state. Are you in favor of tighter restrictions on guns?, and if so, where does that put you with the folks who might think you’re trying to take their guns away?

Brian: I am for responsible gun ownership. For people who can legally possess guns, I certainly support that. But, at the same time, if you’re a gun owner, you have to be responsible in how you care for that firearm. I’ll give you an example. We have a number of guns that are stolen out of vehicles, and those guns end up in the hands of criminals, and they do harm with those guns. So we have to think about that aspect of it.

Jim: Given your background growing up here, what does it mean to you personally that you’re now the police chief of YOUR city?

Brian: It’s incredible. I think about how I was primarily raised by my mom, a single mom. I went to school right here in Greensboro, went to Page High School, went to A&T, and quite frankly I just wanted to be a police officer, I wasn’t thinking about being the police chief. I had some great opportunities that put me in a position where I could legitimately compete for it, and fortunately I got the job.

We’re all fortunate that Chief James got the job, and we wish him well.

Last Thursday my wife Pam and I were standing on the street in front of our house, enjoying a social-distancing breath of fresh air, when one of our neighbors walked by us. We live in a very diverse neighborhood, and the lady who walked past us is Black. She was also engaged in a Bluetooth-phone conversation with a friend, and she seemed very upset. Nevertheless I waved, and Pam said “Hi”. Our neighbor, however, strained to acknowledge our greeting while continuing to converse on her phone. Later we found out why she was upset. She had just viewed the video of Ahmaud Arbery’s murder.

On February 23, Ahmaud, a 25-year-old Black man, was jogging through the Satilla Shores neighborhood of Glynn County, Georgia in broad daylight, when he was confronted by three armed White men in a pick-up truck. Moments later three shots rang out and Ahmaud lay dead. Hardly anyone outside of Glynn County knew about the attack because no arrests were made. But last week a video of Ahmaud’s murder surfaced on the internet and the national outrage began. Police then arrested 64-year-old Gregory McMichael and his 34-year-old son Travis, both White, and charged them with first-degree murder. The video was taken by their friend William Bryan who had accompanied the McMichaels in “hot pursuit” of Ahmaud, who they believed was a burglary suspect. The McMichaels men also told police they shot Ahmaud in “self-defense”.

I’m not saying that all southern White redneck racists are ignorant liars and cowards, but my 66-year history with them says they are. First of all, Ahmaud was not a burglar. Second, burglars don’t tend to commit a crime and then go for a leisurely jog on a Sunday afternoon. Third, if the 3 stooges actually believed Ahmaud was a criminal, they could have called the police. And fourth, common sense tells you that it’s not “self-defense” when three armed White men murder one unarmed Black man. Sometimes I’m ashamed to be White.

Last month when NASCAR driver Kyle Larson used the “N” word, I was ashamed to be White.

Last week when a Mecklenburg County school principal referred to Black students as “colored folks”, I was ashamed to be White.

When I see cartoons still popping up on Facebook that depict the Obamas as gorillas, I am ashamed to be White.

When African Americans say they are afraid to wear medical masks during the Pandemic for fear of being racially profiled as bank robbers, I am ashamed to be White.

When Donald Trump singles out his one African American supporter at a rally attended by a crowd comprising 99.9% Whites by saying, “Where’s my Black?”, I am ashamed to be White.

When right-wingers say that Blacks commit voter fraud by voting once, then changing their clothes and voting a second time, I am ashamed to be White.

When armed Caucasians march through Charlottesville to protest the removal of a Confederate statue, I am ashamed to be White.

The sad truth is that overt racist behavior has escalated over the past decade. Ever since the election of Barack Obama in 2008, for example, there has been a rise in hate groups. There’s also been a surge in gun sales, and if this were 60 years ago, there’d be a spike in the sale of rope too. Speaking of which, have you ever heard of one White guy lynching a Black man? Have you ever heard of just one, hooded KKK member terrorizing a Black family? Have you ever heard of an unarmed White redneck beating up a Black man his same size? My point is that White racists are cowards who only act out their racist behavior when they’re in a group. Unfortunately, these cowards are, in some sense, an indictment of my race.

It’s no wonder, then, that my neighbor strained to greet me last week. In her heart she knows that Pam and I are just regular folk, but it’s hard to be friendly with your White neighbor when you’ve just watched another video of another unarmed Black man shot down in cold blood by another group of White racists. In time, my Black neighbors will be able to smile warmly at me when we walk past each other, but for now, I can’t blame them for the pain and anger they must be feeling toward Southern men who happen to share my skin color. There are no words I can say to make things better. All I can say is, “Sometimes I’m ashamed to be White.”

Unlike our childish, mean-spirited President who thrives on name-calling and social unrest, I never intend to stir up controversy with my words. And yet, last week, my column, “Cooper’s Shell Game Could Ruin Us”, did just that. Not long after YESWeekly Publisher Charles Womack posted my column, he was deluged with responses. Some of them were favorable, but others were critical, including those written by folks who threatened never to read YESWeekly again. A similar eruption occurred last year when I defended Martina Navratilova’s right to say that trans athletes should not be allowed to compete in women’s tennis tournaments. The hate mail poured in, and you would have thought I had sold uranium to the Russians. Somehow this society has forsaken tolerance and civil discourse in favor of partisanship and bullying, and that saddens me.

For the record, I am neither a Republican nor a Democrat. I am a liberal-leaning unaffiliated voter, and, over the past 20 years, my columns and TV commentaries have criticized GOP officials over Dems by about a 10 to 1 margin. I’ve also committed my time and resources to advocating for liberal causes. In 1993 I helped Virginia Governor Doug Wilder pass the nation’s first handgun legislation, and, early on in the new millennium, I fought for victims of forced sterilization to receive compensation. I went on record decades ago in favor of gay marriage and equal pay for women. I afforded the late Darryl Hunt multiple platforms for promoting his Innocence Project. And, earlier this year I helped to promote a municipal bond that will give teachers a much-needed raise. Yet let me criticize a Democratic Governor for his COVID-19 phase-in plan, and all of a sudden, I am a half-wit who doesn’t care if people die.

Even in the most difficult of times, thoughtful, civilized people should be able to agree to disagree on issues without threatening one another, or name-calling.

The problem is that issues are not necessarily the problem. University of Maryland professor Dr. Lilliana Mason conducted a study in 2018 in which she examined issue-based ideology vs. identity-based ideology. In September of that year, she revealed her findings in an issue of Psychology Today, saying that, “by far the more potent predictor of social distance was identity-based ideology, that is, how we identify ourselves as liberals or conservatives, and not where we stand on the issues.” Her research reinforced what many of us already knew, that rampant partisanship is driving public policy and public discourse.

The late Senator John McCain once said, “We weaken our greatness when we confuse our patriotism with tribal rivalries.” Unfortunately, most Americans seem to be ignoring his warning. Yes, Donald Trump is the poster boy for divisive speech, and it’s bad enough when his right-wing followers mimic his bad behavior. But I am more concerned about the angry rhetoric coming from highly educated people who say they stand for tolerance, yet have none for anyone who doesn’t agree with them 100% of the time.

Author Joanne Freeman, speaking with Judy Woodruff during a 2018 PBS special, reminded us that America experienced its first contested presidential election in 1800, during which the rhetoric was so heated that some feared it would lead to a civil war. Said Freeman, “Thomas Jefferson quieted the factions, saying that we are all Federalists. We are all Republicans. Let us try to stand back and unite.” Clearly today, we are lacking a leader in the White House who can persuade and inspire us to cease the heated rhetoric and unite. Absent that, however, we must all as individuals strive for that ideal. Divisiveness is a highly contagious, airborne virus for which the only cure is civility.