After spending most of the day tending the business of the county, Harry Sanders is about to move on to something else, tomatoes. This particular morning he chaired a supervisors meeting and attended a planning session at the Link. After lunch, he made a quick appearance at Columbus Air Force Base. Sanders’ plans now were to spend what was left of a Friday afternoon in the garden tending his bumper crop of tomatoes.
Before doing so, the president of the Lowndes County Board of Supervisors stopped by The Dispatch to hold forth on his favorite subject, local politics. Getting Harry’s opinion on any given subject is pretty simple; all you have to do is ask. Be prepared for an answer rooted in fiscal conservatism and brutally to the point.
Though he’s quick to say he “hates” politics, it’s clear to anyone who’s around him for more than 30 seconds, Sanders relishes his total immersion in the business of Lowndes County. Few details of that work escape his scrutiny, be it the supervision of a summer jobs program for youth or details of a fee-in-lieu agreement for a new industry.
Accessible, knowledgeable and plainspoken, Sanders is a reporter’s dream. He is also a relentless media critic — pointing out inadequacies of stories published weeks earlier, complaining about lack of emphasis on issues he deems important. He is rare among public officials in his willingness to be ever accessible to the public through the media.
Sanders has been a supervisor for a dozen years. He’s 67 and seems to have plenty of fire left. When asked if he will run again (in 2015), the “yes’ comes without pause. And then, “If Leroy runs again, I’m running.” Leroy, of course, is Leroy Brooks. More on that in a minute.
Already Sanders has an impressive political legacy. He oversaw the selling of the county-owned hospital to Baptist Healthcare, played a pivotal role in negotiations that landed a billion-dollar steel mill and led the charge for the building of a sports complex in Burns Bottom, a new health department on Lehmberg Road and a new justice court complex next to the county jail.
His current big thing centers on the just-announced talks to explore the creation of a regional economic development organization for the three Golden Triangle counties.
When asked if Link CEO Joe Higgins would head up the new organization, Sanders answers with characteristic bluntness: “I would assume so. If they have any sense, he will.” After a pause, he takes a step back: “Joe might not want it.”
Reporters who have covered Sanders over the years say he’s mellowed. The boardroom showdowns with fellow supervisor Leroy Brooks are rare.
“What people don’t realize is that Leroy and I get along fine,” says Sanders. “Leroy most of the time is a conservative, wants-to-do-right kind of guy — lot of experience, a lot of sense. Where you have a problem with Leroy is when Leroy wants something personally for Leroy and not for the good of the county, something he wants, like an iPhone.”
Sanders downplays his sometimes contentious relations with the county’s poor cousin, the city of Columbus, instead pointing out successful collaborations: a Riverwalk parking lot, the Burns Bottom project.
That said, the President has advice for the city: “They need to learn how to say no. I see so much dead wood. … They need to give the public works administrator and give the police chief the authority to fire someone.”
Sanders admits there are aspects of the political process he could do without.
“Running for re-election is the worst thing in the world,” he says. “Everybody wants something. I’m conservative. I don’t think government should do what you can do yourself.”
Sanders says he still gets butterflies before a supervisors’ meeting.
“Look,” he says. “I sat over there and ran Sanders Oil for 32 years, out of the limelight. This is not my nature,”
Anyone who has seen Sanders in action might beg to differ. Though he may not be as polished as some — he is unfailing in his ability to grasp the essence of an issue and fearless when it comes to defending his position. And, he loves the work.
“I could easily be a couch potato,” he says. “This forces me to get involved.”
Sanders seems unhappy when the interview comes to an end.
“Is that all you’re gonna ask me?” There was a hint of disappointment in his voice.
We walk to the front door.
“You gonna pay my parking ticket if I got one?” he jokes. His tomato red pickup is parked in a 15-minute slot in front of the Post Office.
“You want some tomatoes?” he asks. “I’ll bring you some Monday.”
Birney Imes III is the immediate past publisher of The Dispatch.
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 41 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.