Such is the story of a man named Billy Wolfe.
Billy
grew up on the rough edge of a small town in southern West Virginia.
When he was about 14, his dad decided he'd had enough of parenthood and
he lit out for parts unknown, leaving Billy's mom to take care of him
and his brothers and sisters by herself.
Through
sheer determination, he managed to get through high school. But once he
had his diploma, Billy went where most young men did in the late 60s –
he got shipped off to a place called Vietnam.
I
don't know what all happened to him there. He never really wanted to
talk about it, but by the time I met Billy, his life had changed
forever.
He had left both his legs in Nam.
I
remember the first time I saw him. He looked a lot older than he was.
He was, of course, in a wheelchair and had a hard time getting around.
But there was a great spirit about Billy. He had a great sense of humor and he loved people.
Above
all, he was thankful - thankful for friends who had given him a place
to stay when he returned to his hometown after his service to his
country.
His
friends, a local electrician and his wife, knew Billy really didn’t
have any place to go, so they remodeled their detached garage into an
apartment for him, making it fully handicapped-accessible.
It was Billy’s haven. He felt safe there.
Unfortunately
for Billy, his benefactors had some neighbors who didn't like them very
much and when they found out that the two were providing someone with
an apartment - a detached dwelling - in a neighborhood not zoned for such places, they jumped on it.
They
took their complaint to the zoning board. Not getting the immediate
results they wanted, they showed up at the town's next city council
meeting and threw a fit.
It was simple, they said. It was against the law and Billy would have to go.
I
was a 20-year-old college student who just worked part-time at the
local paper to get myself through college. That day, I drew the short
straw and ended up with the evening’s city council meeting as my
assignment.
I really hadn’t covered many meetings and I sure wasn’t ready for this one.
It
was an ugly scene. Neighbors stood up in defense of Billy, saying they
would be fine with the council passing some sort of variance, but the
opposing side persisted, demanding that the council uphold the zoning
regulations.
Of
course the law was on their side and so the majority of the councilmen
voted to oust Billy. By the time that meeting was over, there was also
another casualty. Our mayor – a veteran himself - resigned, saying he wouldn't lead a town where such an atrocity could take place.
And
I sat there, taking notes as hard and fast as a very green, very young
reporter possibly could, trying desperately to capture every cruel word
that was uttered.
It
didn’t take long, after the story came out in the next morning’s
edition of the Bluefield Daily Telegraph, for Billy to become a
household name. The TV and radio folks picked it up and ran with it.
People in the community were outraged.
Our
newspaper stayed on top of the story and didn’t let go. They kept the
issue in front of the public, covering it from every possible angle.
The
story had a happy ending. A local attorney and a contractor contacted
Billy’s friends and together, they forged a plan that would satisfy the
town’s zoning regulations. Volunteers went to work to remodel the house
and garage, putting it all under one roof.
The day I learned that Billy’s home was saved was a day that truly changed my life.
That
was the first time I really understood just what a difference a
newspaper could make and I knew I wanted to be part of that.
Thinking
back to Billy and his story reminded me why I've been in the newspaper
business for so many years and why I feel it is such an honor to be part
of something so powerful and so meaningful.
We
all walk this earth for a reason, and we all enjoy many different
powers. Each of us has the power to influence others, and in turn, each
of us is influenced by those who cross our life’s path.
Every day, in the newspaper industry, we operate a power tool – a tool that should be handled with care.
"With great power comes great responsibility," Spiderman’s Uncle Ben said to him.
While we certainly aren’t superheroes, I can think of no other industry where that phrase can better be applied.
