“We’re a dying community that needs tax revenue and jobs.” I looked up to Mayor Valentine entering the office. He gestured to the stack of letters. “More Stark letters?”
I nodded.
“What happens if people don’t sell?” Trina asked. “Governor support or not, they can’t build on what they don’t own.”
“Some people are selling. Family farming is dying. They see this as an opportunity for a new start,” Mayor Valentine said. “Once some sell, the others might follow suit because having a prison nearby will devalue their property.”
“As this letter not so kindly states,” I said with a feeling of disgust. “Some of these families have been here for centuries. They built this state. Their farms are their lives. We can’t just sit back and let some city slicker and the governor take away our way of life.”
“Ways of life change, Sinclair,” the mayor said with sympathy in his eyes. Overall, I liked Maurice Valentine. He was young, under forty, so he had progressive ideas. But he was conservative and what my mama would say was practical. He also didn’t seem bothered by my goal of someday running for his position.
“People still have to eat!” I exclaimed.
“Maybe if we convince people not to sell, we can make Stark look elsewhere,” Trina suggested.
“We’d need to make sure the board of supervisors knew that the community supported its farmers over a prison,” I said.
“Many people don’t want a prison, but they want the jobs that it will bring. It could be a tough sell,” the Mayor pointed out.
“Whose side are you on?” I asked him.
“I’m on the side that is best for Salvation. Right now, this prison
is going to bring in jobs for our people. Not everyone is a farmer in Salvation. Not only will it bring jobs and tax revenue, but it’ll also bring in more income from families visiting inmates, eating at our restaurants and staying in our hotels.”
I didn’t care about that. “I’m going to form a coalition to oppose-”
“You’re a county employee, Sinclair. You need to be careful about-”
“A committee then. I want to study the impact this prison will have on landowners and the town. Trina, can you call down to the permit office to get a copy of plans and any environmental studies already done?”
“Sure thing.”
“I also want to see a list of all property Stark is targeting and if possible what he’s bought or is in the process of buying already.”
The mayor put his arm on my shoulder. “It’s good to be passionate about your community, Sinclair. Just remember that not everyone agrees with you on what’s best for it. When you run for mayor, it’s not just about you.”
“I know. But Salvation is a farming community. It’s a part of our heritage. That has to mean something even to the non-farming families.” I turned to Trina. “Let me know when you have the information. I’m going to get started on these families we already know about.”
“Will do,” Trina said with a salute.
I headed to my office, aware that Mayor Valentine was following me, no doubt to impart more wisdom. I appreciated his mentorship, even if I had the distinct feeling that his interest in me was more than platonic. Not that he was inappropriate with me. He just had a way of looking at me that suggested interest. Fortunately, he understood that we couldn’t be together because he was my boss. I liked him well enough, but not as a potential love interest. I didn’t like anyone well enough for that. I had too much else going on in my life to be involved with a man.
Funny how life could change. There was a time that I thought I had everything all planned out. I’d get my degree and spend my life in Salvation with Wyatt. I supposed two out of three wasn’t bad. I had my degree and I was in Salvation. I’d even secured a great job, one that was the stepping stone I needed to someday fulfill my dream of becoming mayor. Lucky for me, Mayor Valentine, didn’t feel threatened by me, which was strange because he was young. It wasn’t like he was an old man ready to retire. Perhaps his interest in me was what kept him from seeing me as a threat.
My job was fulfilling, helping support Salvation. But he was right. Farming, especially family farming, seemed to be dying out. On the one hand, I understood that the march of progress couldn’t be stopped. It would have been stupid to continue to fight for harness and buggy makers with the invention of cars and trucks. But farming was about food and other resources we relied on to live. People needed to eat more than they needed another prison.
“I admire your dedication to the farmers of Salvation,” the mayor said once I reached my desk.
“But you don’t think I should fight this prison?”
“I think a committee to look into the impact this will have on Salvation is a good idea. I can tell you, a similar report has already been done-”
“Paid for by the prison organization, I’m sure.”
His lips twitched up in the way they did when he was amused by my spunk. “It proves the point I was making earlier. We can always skew data and information to support what we want. As leaders of Salvation, what we want matters less than what the community wants. Give them the information, but they decide, Sinclair. It’s possible they’ll want this prison.”
“So, the farmers, the one who built this town, they’re out of luck because they’re outnumbered?”