September 25, 2015 11:56 pm ET
If only the county would use some common sense
Source: The Little Bridge that Could
Photo credit/Gator Bridge Company (cost, a lot less then the county lost in the Mainsail scandal)
This almost sounds like the beginning of a bad joke. “What do two council members, a doctor, a county executive, the Office of Fred (Homan), and the county department of public works have in common?”
The answer, unfortunately, does not bring laughs.
The common thread for the above listed parties is a pretty little bridge so shinny and new that remains at the center of a boondoggle of government bureaucrats; all of whom had a hand in tearing down a bridge, yet don’t have a clue as to the issue of who’s responsible for the implosion of a much needed community asset.
You see, in Baltimore County—if it does not involve a developer with deep pockets, the right connections, and six figures or more ($$$$$$)—resolving an issue that a child could solve with some Legos is beyond the expertise of the aforementioned paper pushers.
Excuse me if you believe that I am being a tad harsh to those I mentioned.
Now, as I recall, the question about the now missing bridge has focused on, among other things, in which district was the bridge located? Was it in Councilman Jones’ district or Councilman Quirk’s?
In an attempt to get a definitive answer, I sent the following email:
Councilman Julian Jones
Councilman Tom Quirk
Baltimore County MD
Dear Councilman Quirk and Jones:
The question has arisen regarding the Woodlawn Footbridge and that is in whose district is the bridge located?
Could you please provide this information?
Thank you for your time.
You already know this drill. Once again, no answer from either councilman. I mean, how hard is it to do something good for the community, since the residents are paying the tab anyway?
Now, back to the truth. The BC Department of Public Works, which tore down the bridge, wants to blame the board of education; meanwhile, the board of education wants to blame the DPW.
Councilman Jones blames me for stirring the pot (not the kind coming to your local clinic on the corner) because I had the nerve to shed light on the plight of this little bridge that means a lot to the community.
How can such a little bridge cause so much trouble for two professional politicians? The answer to that is easy. They are professional politicians whose job description involves getting re-elected no matter what the cost.
Speaking of cost, the DPW said the bridge will cost more than $200,000 to replace. As I mentioned in a previous post, the bridge actually could be replaced by the shiny new one shown above for $60,000, which would be a win-win for both the pols and the community.
However, most politicians tend to do nothing unless it changes the county landscape forever. Right now, for what I can see, that change is not working out too well.
You see, professional politicians are becoming an endangered species whose life span may now be measured in gaffs at politicking leaving them facing the broom and dust pan of the voters, who can figure out quite quickly that we can do a better job without the career pols.
As the saying goes, “Don’t let the door hit you in the butt on the way out.”
If you doubt my word on this matter read this account of our pol in the east side.
Now as is my practice, I called in the experts on bridges and for your entertainment pleasure here is my research. Please beware of the language. It’s a bit salty.
This interview was done with the county’s expert on bridges. His name is Odd Ball from ”Kelly’s Heroes” . The $16 million price quoted is based on the county’s core of bridge builders.