I’m having a hard time winding down to get to work. At 5:30 this evening, I got a phone call from Tim Peck announcing that the petition drive had been successful by 22 signatures.
My evening walk through the neighborhood was like a victory lap. “We won!” I shouted to people who had signed the petition. One guy beat me to the punch.
Petitioning was a beautiful journey that has regretfully come to an end. Few things could be more pleasant than strolling through the verdant grandeur that is Asheville, partaking of the beauty and fragrance of peoples’ flower gardens, meeting new friends, and getting a great workout. Sporting a T-shirt opposing a power-grab by elected officials is a great way to quickly find common ground with strangers.
As the signatures were being validated, Friday, when I came home from work, I got a call from Charlie Hume, who was heading up the petition effort. He had gotten a list of contested signatures, and asked if I could run a couple down. (The Board of Elections had graciously sent out letters to people who signed the petition who may not have updated their registrations. Many letters had not yet returned to the Board.) I asked how high he wanted me to jump, and got three zip codes, much to my delight.
Scrounging around for letters that might have been thrown out with the pizza coupons, I found one truck driver in a purple towel, home for two hours. He hadn’t even opened his mail, and was out of the loop on Asheville news. He insisted I update him, and he signed his form. Another man was in a wheelchair, typing a letter to the editor of the local newspaper as I bumped into him searching for his front door. He hadn’t been able to get to the post office.
I often think back to the two people who declined to sign the petition saying, “It will all work itself out.” The second time somebody said this, I wanted to plead in a childish voice, “But Sir! How does the journey of a thousand miles begin?” By small things, great things come to pass, and each person who contributed their itty-bitty signature made it happen. Still, nothing compared to the smiles on the peoples’ faces during the final sweep when they realized they were one of ten people needed to make it over the hump.
Five thousand twenty-two people in Asheville just reminded government who was boss, and showed they were watching and unwilling to let elected officials vote themselves more power, in one instance at least.
