Have we pinned the Pathways 'tale' on the wrong donkeys?

by David Grand
November 11, 2009

In watching the recent meeting of the Carroll County Planning and Zoning Commission, in which the death knell was sounded for the Pathways comprehensive land-use plan, I could almost hear a funeral dirge being played in the background.

And when its chairman, David Brauning, spoke in a somber voice about why he believed it should be scrubbed — and opting to concentrate instead on an update of the state-mandated Master Plan — it almost sounded as if he was delivering a eulogy to the newly-departed.

Then, after his motion to jettison the plan was unanimously adopted, sans any discussion, I couldn't help but notice the facial expressions of the other six members, much like the frozen faces seen on that of jurors when recommending a death sentence.

But when I turned off the boob tube, the devil in me wondered why the plan — which had been in the works for four years with countless man-hours and a cost of nearly $600,000 — had been killed as quickly as one would swat a fly?

And, why was it, that the meeting appeared to be as rehearsed and scripted as a soap opera, lacking only in suspense over the outcome?

That old devil in me considered the possibility that the decision to put the kibosh on Pathways had been predetermined by higher-ups in the chain of command, and that the members of the planning commission were just playing out the role they were given; namely, to act as if they and they alone had decided to abandon it.

Shame on me, I know, for even thinking that form of subterfuge may have been concocted by top officials to cover their tracks. But then again, I've been shamed so many times in my life that I've lost count.

However, in the one in a million chance that there's at least a modicum, if not the whole truth in what my devilish side tells me, then some hard questions need to be asked of those at the top rungs of the ladder. How forthright they'd be, however, in answering the $64,000 question is any one's guess.

And the planning commission chairman, as well as all members, should be asked the pointed question as to whether they'd been pressured in any way (and by whom) to accept full responsibility for that plan being consigned to the graveyard reserved for failed county projects.

Now, I'm hardly the one to do it. But surely some hot-shot reporters in the local papers would jump at the opportunity to pursue those open-ended questions, no matter what obstacles are put in their way from uncovering the true story of the Pathways demise.

In lieu of a closing quote, I simply want to thank those who are serving or have served in the armed forces on this Veterans Day.

And for them to remember, that old soldiers never die — they just look that way.