DELTONA BONA FIDE

COMMENTARY

Byrd's eye view: My encounter with the Shady Bunch

March 05, 2007

There it was, four in the afternoon on a Friday. I had already put my columns to bed for the weekend. You know the usual stuff about what’s happening in Volusia. There was one about the guy who gives all his time to help the birds and bunnies. There was another about how things have changed with the Beach Patrol since the 60’s and for Monday I put together a piece about how the Speedway isn’t really a burden on taxpayers. My plans for next week were all about spending time at bike week and putting together a few pieces for the coming week. (What a deal... I get to go play, you know - watch the cole slaw wrestling and all that and get paid for it!)

Best of all, someone else was chained to the news desk all weekend and had to wait for that one weekend item that the owners are always looking for. You know the one, the one that will bring the area to the National spotlight and we’ll be the outlet with the exclusive. The item that moves this paper from a sleepy local outlet into the mega news empire. The one that never comes.

I had plans. It was going to get cold and rainy. I could stay in the house and veg out all weekend. Watch ESPN. Chow down on junk food. Take a few naps. The kids and the wife were off at Aunt Susan’s for the weekend. Oh, the sweet bliss of it all. Just like before I got married. Couldn’t wait to do nothing.

Then the phone on my desk rings waking me from my day dreams. I looked at the display. I love caller ID. Love to know who is calling. Helps me decide if I want to let it go to voice mail.

“Unknown caller.” Dang it! Another phone solicitor. Don’t they know this is a business? We don’t need a water softener or vinyl siding! Besides, they interrupted my dream!

“J. Byrd,” I answered.

To my surprise it wasn’t someone trying to sell me something. It was a voice I could not attach to a face saying, “Hey man, you want to come to the organizational meeting of the Shady Bunch?”

Now this brought me into full focus. I have heard rumors about the Shady Bunch. They are supposed to be a top-secret organization that is the real power in the City. Stories abound about how citizens who can't get any cooperation out of City Hall can contact this group and they’ll get it done for you. Try as I might I’ve never been able to track them down. I have even seen pictures of supposed members, but they seem to shy away from the press.

Wow! Maybe this is the story the boss has been looking for! “Sure, I would! When?”

“Tonight.” Tonight? So much for nap time.

“Ok, fine. What time?”

“After dark. We don’t have to work in the sunshine.”

“Where?”

“We’ll pick you up from home.”

“Fine. Let me give you my address. . . “

“No need. We know where you live, just be ready after dark.” Click.

They know where I live? How? My house is in my wife’s name. The paper doesn’t give that stuff out. How do they know?

Fascinated and concerned, I left for home. Figured I might as well get ready.

At home I showered, shaved and changed. My reporter’s note pad having long ago given way to a Palm Pilot and Digital recorder, I checked the batteries in both. Made sure I had a few extra in my pocket. I wondered, was this technology really worth it? Seems like my pencil and note pad were always ready to go.

Camera. Same deal. Check the batteries. Be sure there is room on the memory card.

A little after dark the door bell rings. I open the door to two men in black ski masks. I read and write about home invasions all the time. Was I about to become a victim in someone else's news story?

“Hey man, I’m Wyatt and this here’s Sundance. He’s real good about the sunshine stuff. You ready?”

Sure I was, but what are were we going in? I looked past Wyatt and Sundance and saw three black stretch limos parked in front of my house.

“Aren’t you afraid my neighbors will think you’re kidnapping me?” I asked.

“No man,” said Wyatt, “that’s one reason we don’t work in the sunshine.”

They escorted me to one of the limos. Once settled in I was introduced to Fingers, their resident computer geek, and Eagle, the legal expert. There was Owl whom I would come to find out knows more about this area’s history than anyone I have ever met. Nighthawk was introduced as someone who used to be somebody but isn’t anymore.

I reached for my recorder. Fingers asked to see it and quicker than a flash of lightening out came the batteries. He handed the recorder back to may saying I wouldn’t need it.

Wyatt reached into his attaché case and pulled out a note pad and pen and handed them to me. He explained that with the recorder I could match their voices to other known recordings and figure out who they were.

"You look old enough that you should still remember how to do this the old fashioned way," he said.

As we rode, I tried to look out and see where we were going but the windows were just too dark to see well. I tried to listen to sounds that would tell me where we were going but the limo was just too well insulated for that. I would never survive on CSI, that was for sure.

After about half an hour we arrived somewhere. I still do not know where. I remembered my Palm Pilot has GPS. I pulled it out, turned it on and pulled up the GPS feature. To my surprise the screen showed, “you are nowhere!” Fingers looked at me with a wry smile and explained that he likes his GPS like he likes his eggs - scrambled.

By now the people in the other limos were getting out. All wore ski masks. There were men and women young and old. Some were introduced as just plain citizens, others as government employees and one was said to be a city commissioner.

Other vehicles rolled in too. SUV’s, Toyotas, Hondas, Chevy’s and Fords. Some really cool others just barely running. People began getting out of their cars and trucks. Singles, couples, groups. All wearing ski masks.

Wyatt called the group together and introduced me and reminded everyone to leave their masks on because I was there. He said the masks were to protect me. He said if I did not know who they were I could never be forced to reveal their names. Interesting.

A slick flick of a Zippo in the night, and whoosh! A nice fire!

"Let there be fire, and let us eat," said Wyatt.

To my surprise I was warmed by a huge bon fire, like the ones we used to have at home coming. From the light of the fire I could see tables full of lobster, shrimp, fish and steak. Through the crackles of the fire I could hear people sharing warm greetings with one another.

I wondered about their desire to keep all this hush-hush. Wondering how they could have a huge bon fire and not expect the fire department to show up. After all, open burning is against the law.

As I wondered out loud, Nighthawk explained, “Yea, well, last time we forgot about that and when the fire truck showed up we had to feed all the firefighters. We almost ran out of food! We’re better prepared this time. Hot Pants over there works for the fire department and she got us a burn permit so it’s all legal. She’s got a radio too so if they do roll, she’ll just call them and tell them it’s us.”

The next few hours I mixed with the group. I listened to people complain about how the city treats them. I heard a lady talk about how happy she is that they finally resurfaced her street. I listened to people talk about their kids and their families. The good and the bad in their life. I came to realize everyone here was just normal people.

As the evening went on I learned too that most of the people just wanted the city they live in to be the best is could be and they felt there is no leadership, no sense of direction, no plan for the future, no plan for today coming from the City.

They do not seem to hate anyone. They don’t seem to really care who is Mayor or who their Commissioner is as long as the job is getting done. Unfortunately, in their view that is just not happening.

Wyatt called the group together for the “business” portion of their meeting. Like so many of us he has had no trouble hearing the arguments about how bad the city leadership has become. He asked everyone to come up with one good thing that the Commission has accomplished in the past year.

Silence.

Silence broken only by the crackling of the fire.

“Come on,” Fingers called out, “for sure, someone must be able to remember something!”

“Publix!” someone shouted.

“Nope,” someone else said, “the old Commission and Mayor started that.”

“WalMart!”

“Nope, same deal.”

“Ace, oh, that was them too, darn!”

“Hey, I heard we was getting a Lowe’s!”

“Yea, said Owl, but that was Mayor John and Lucille and them.”

“Ok,” said Wyatt, “we’ll wrap up the business portion of the meeting. Maybe something positive will happen next month.”

With that the party began to break up. Folks bid each other good bye. To my surprise many of them came over to me and thanked me for being there. They thanked Wyatt for all he was doing. Many of them also made a point of telling Wyatt to be sure and have me back. Some even said if I came back they would take their masks off for me.

I asked Wyatt about the cost of all this. The limos. The food. The place. This doesn’t seem like an inexpensive operation. I did not want to offend anyone, but these people just don’t seem well off enough to be able to pull this off, let alone every month. What does it cost to be part of this organization?

“Cost? Oh, I thought I introduced you to Bubba.”

“The backhoe operator for the city?” I asked.

“Yes him. What did I tell you about him?”

“You said he was the most important member here tonight?”

“Ask me why.”

“Ok, I’ll bite. Why is Bubba the most important member here tonight?”

“Because tonight is his night to bring the City credit card!”

I was astonished. The City pays for all this! Wow. Now my reporter’s ears were wide open.

“How do you get them to pay for this? This isn’t City business!”

“Credit card.”

“But, but how?

“Credit card.”

“But. . .”

“They never check.”

Then Owl spoke up. “Now honestly, we can’t do all of this on the City credit card. Some of it we do on expense reports. The really big stuff we get grants for.”

“Grants?” I asked in amazement.

“Sure,” said Sundance, “like the helicopter!”

“Helicopter?” I was even more amazed.

“Black Helicopter.” Says Fingers.

“With a grant?”

“Yep. Applied for a grant to build a park,” explained Wyatt, “when the money came in Hanky Panky over there cut a check to pay for the helicopter.”

“So you’re telling me Hanky Panky works in finance?”

“Did I say that?”

“But surely someone must know you have this thing.”

“The Mayor knows.”

“The Mayor knows? Then how come he doesn’t do something about it?”

“Because he likes to ride in it.”

“What!”

“Sure. When he needs to give someone a tour of the city, or when he needs to go to Atlanta we’re more than happy to take him. Despite his fear of heights, he loves it!”

“Nevermind his fear of heights - I thought he hates you guys!”

“No, he hates that we can get stuff done that he can’t. He’s fine with us!”

I’m sure I had that deer in the headlights look by now so when Wyatt directed me back to the limo I didn’t even question getting back in. The wheels were spinning in my brain. Cook outs? Limos? City credit card? Helicopter? What more could there be?

“So this is it? You give me this little peep show of what you do. You tell me how you do it and now you’re just taking me home?”

“Oh, heck no!” Owl tells me, “now we’re going to the executive board meeting!”

“Executive board? Who is on the board? Where do you meet?”

Fingers tells me, “Everyone in this limo is on the board.”

“Really? Ok, but where do you meet?”

“Think about your question.” I hear from Fingers. “We’re the Shady Bunch. We don’t work in the sunshine and we’re in Volusia County. Where do you think we meet?

“I think I’m beginning to get this. You meet in a smoke filled back room?”

“Bingo!”

So after the limo ride we arrived at yet another location. This time at an elegant mansion. I was escorted into a back room. Cigars come out and this is where the real business of the Shady Bunch begins to happen.

For me it was an eye opening experience.

There was discussion about what the city needed to become better. Who would do it and how it could happen. There was talk of parks and roads and jobs and shopping.

There was talk of things they had heard at the meeting from people who wanted to see improvement in the city.

They discussed what things the Shady Bunch would accomplish for the city. There was talk of who, in the city, would help the Shady Bunch get these things done. There was talk of what roadblocks would be put in their way.

My biggest surprise? In spite of all the things I have heard I was now able to see for myself that the Shady Bunch is not concerned about making a name for themselves. The Shady Bunch does not care who gets credit for the things they work to accomplish. They don’t care whether the Mayor does or does not support their goals. They only care that this city becomes a better place to live and work.

What goals and plans were laid out? How do they plan to accomplish these things? Keep reading right here and you will find out.

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