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Wednesday, November 25, 2009
By MORRIS STEPHENSON -
I've met a lot of people through all my years in the newspaper and stock car racing professions, but very few, if any, have impacted me like Scott Martin.
Scott has made his presence felt since he arrived in the county eight years ago. That was two years after I returned to the News-Post.
In those eight years, Scott has left his heavy footprints throughout the county from north to south and from east to west.
If I tried going through his resume listing every accomplishment since he's been here, the list would fill this column and probably a couple more. So for that reason, I'm not going there.
I'm sure a lot of people have something to say about one thing in particular he/she remembers most about the lanky, personable, young man with the quick smile and unusual laugh, sometimes silly.
So this column is all mine. It will be all about Scott and just some of the many memories, thoughts and even some ideas he "birthed."
Scott was hired as director of the county's department of parks and recreation and started work in late November 2001.
It wasn't long after, we began a working relationship that exists until this day. The friendship also started at that time and has continued to grow.
One of the first things I did was give him the nicknamed "Scottman." That's because on the first recreation department-sponsored Halloween party at the armory, he came dressed as Batman. If you didn't see him that night, just close your eyes and try to imagine that picture.
It wasn't long after that, he got wind of the Pigg River Ramble Canoe Race that was last run some 20 years before his arrival. The Rocky Mount Community Partnership for Revitalization (CPR) wanted to see the paddling event held again...thanks to the suggestion of Ann Carter Gravely and Denise Alexander Arrington, then CPR director.
Scott jumped all over the idea because he had a super staff with Jerry Robertson as programs manager and Marcia Cramblett, Sarah Holley and a host of hard-working employees, like Danny Chitwood, Bill Mason and Jamie Hartberger.
That's were Scott and I got into our first working relationship. Soon the plans for the Ramble got off to a flying start. He and I immediately clicked for lack of a better word.
In March 2002, a funny memory was born on the Pigg River. Scott, Jerry and I had decided someone (us) needed to cut out all the downed trees on the Pigg River Ramble route. At that time, the route was from Waid Park down to the Christian Heritage Academy's property. But we floated down to what is now known as Lynch Park, which was just a small part of a cornfield.
I had told the guys I'd bring along something to eat. Of course, I was the one who decided and made sandwiches. It was a clear day, but the water was still cold, especially if you're standing in it and cutting trees.
Using my two black Blue Hole canoes, we set off on our journey. Jerry was in the bow and Scott in the stern in one boat, while I floated solo with the work gear (chain saw, hand saws, gas can etc.) in the other one. Sandwiches packed, of course, were my favorites, including sugar-coated sliced bananas and mayo as well as PB&J with grape jelly. Each was neatly packaged in individual sandwich bags.
We were talking back and forth as we traveled from one downed tree to another. Near the Pigg River hill bridge with Scott and Jerry in front, I yelled to get their attention, having a question to ask. Like a well-trained military team, both Jerry and Scott leaned to the left in unison looking back over their left shoulders. In a spilt second, due to the sudden uniform shift in weight to the same side of the boat, my jaw dropped as the canoe flipped, sending both paddlers into 18-24 inches of very cold water. A few seconds later, they joined me in laughing about what had happened. Any other time if I had yelled, neither would have even looked around.
A little later down river, we decided to take a break for a rest and much needed sandwich. Well, when I opened the bag that held the sandwiches, the PB&Js first caught my eye. Each one had a deep purple slice of bread, which has absorbed all the grape jelly. Those sandwiches couldn't have been a half inch thick. Yuky!
It wasn't long ago I was reminded (again) about those grape-soaked jelly slices of bread.
Then Scott and Jerry had never eaten a sugar-coated sliced banana sandwich. They balked instantly saying it was the worst combination they'd ever heard of. And today I still catch hell about "who in their right mind would ever eat one of those sandwiches?"
The next year, the same trio set out on the same important project. Only it was later in the year, so we would be closer to warm weather and the June event. It was about a perfect day. We hadn't gone far from Waid Park when we met our first challenge.
A bunch of small trees, complete with a mixture of vines, had to be cleared. Jerry was operating the chain saw, while Scott and I were doing the clearing. Suddenly I looked over Jerry's head, about a foot from the running chain. There was a long, green snake draped across the trees and vines.
"Snake!" I yelled, pointing not too far above Jerry's head. So he made a swipe at the snake with the chain saw, but the snake fell a shade quicker. The last time I saw the snake, it was heading in the direction of Scott and me. We did a lot of looking around but never saw it again.
As memories grew, so did the friendship.
Thinking back, the first Ramble was good, although there was a big lack of water in the river. I took Steve Oakes and his large Cable 12 camera down river with me. To say we did a lot of walking and dragging the boat would be an understatement.
Of course Cable 12 was at The Ledge in 2008 to see Scottman slip on a rock and hit the back of his head. When he got to the CFMH's ER, Dr. Lane was there to greet Scott with a question about who was bringing in the rock for treatment, or some such question as that.
After it was over, I remember telling Scottman if anyone came back the next year, we had ourselves a winning event.
No one connected with the Ramble could believe that the second float grew from 60 boats and 93 paddlers to 93 craft and 163 people! (And last year a record 237 boats and 289 paddlers.)
River paddling has got to be the fastest growing sport in Franklin County.
I found out real fast when Scott gets behind something, he goes all out 200 percent and 200 mph until it's done!
Scott's first idea that impacted me most was his dream of establishing "blueways" along our two county rivers. Truthfully, blueways was a term I'd never heard before. But the idea of having public access points along the Blackwater and Pigg rivers sounded unbelievable to me.
Next thing I knew, the Vernon (Butch) Lynch family had donated land for a public access on Old Fort Road. Presto, the county had its first official blueway from Waid to Lynch parks.
Sometime during our early days, I introduced Scott to the Blackwater River. Perhaps his redheaded wife, Jennifer (I nicknamed Jenn-Jenn), was with us that first trip.
We went from retired Rocky Mount Police Chief Bill Pickeral's house (below the Route 220 bridge to the Route 122 bridge). The county's only real rapids are on that stretch, and they're not big by any means.
"Why haven't you shown me this section before," he quizzed along the way.
Not long after we got started, a couple of dogs, perhaps from the Irish setter family, jumped into the water and started swimming down stream behind us. The dogs would get out of the river for a short period of time and disappear along the banks. We'd always think they were returning home. But this was not to be. Each time we'd round a bend, they would be sitting on the bank waiting on us. Then they'd jump back into the river and swim behind us for another long stretch.
This happened all the way to the Route 122, which I'd guess to be about eight miles. When we arrived about 5 p.m., or quitting time, the road was busy with traffic. We couldn't leave the dogs to get hit by a car. So we loaded up the water-soaked animals into the cargo area of "Goldie," the '86 4-Runner.
Jenn was in the back seat. The dogs loved her. They wanted to be in the seat beside her. During the trip back, she was getting covered by two dogs slobbering and shaking off access water. We took them to the Blue Bend area and to Chris Slemp's house, asking him for help. He was head of the public safety department at the time. With his assistance, he got an animal control officer to open the shelter so we could house the dogs for the weekend. He assured us he would contact the owners Monday morning when he could check the dog tags and determine their rightful owners. They would be returned home, he promised. If he hadn't, Jenn wouldn't have left that evening.
And sure enough, the next day both dogs were returned to their homes. But it was several weeks before the smell of wet dogs finally disappeared from Goldie!
With the growth of the Ramble came the participation in the sport by newcomers, so to speak. Yeee Hawww!
Then next thing I knew, Scott had worked with Galen and Ruby Brubaker, who donated five acres of land at the old Coles Creek bridge. There was enough land for a nice park, plus the first official access point on the Blackwater River.
Now the county's blueways on the Blackwater stretches unofficially from Cline Brubaker's farm upstream of Galen's donated land, all the way to Brooks Mill on Smith Mountain Lake.
"A water park?" was all I could say when Scottman surprised me with a plan to remove to old Rocky Mount power dam and build a whitewater park (when the river was flowing above normal), a wildlife conservation observation area and a support building at the Power Dam Road Road bridge over the Pigg.
When he came up with the idea of a water park on the Pigg River with whitewater rapids, I thought he'd lost it. How can you have rapids on a river that probably averages an annual flow ranging around two feet...or less? After he took time enough to explain that such parks exist all over the western half of the U.S. on rivers with similar water flows, he then used the internet to show me examples. Minutes later, there was stupid printed all over my forehead. I couldn't believe it but surely was happy when the idea and his proposal received approval from an energetic board of supervisors, as well as the town.
Then came an announcement from the U.S. Department of Fish and Wildlife of a half-million dollar grant to remove the dam....thanks to help from that little, ugly but endangered Roanoke logperch fish! Once again, Scott had all the bases covered. Suddenly Franklin County became recognized for its paddling rivers and plans for the future. There was praise for Scott and the county about the economic impact of such a park.
Yep, I'm dwelling on the paddling stuff.
But Scottman was busy in all aspects of the county's operation. Perhaps the biggest star in his crown was his role in successfully landing McAirlaid's first ever U.S. facility in Rocky Mount. There were a lot stories floating around of how Scottman made this happen. Along those lines, he was a key player in Empire Foods coming to the county/town industrial park.
Then there was another major feat in getting the Bassmaster Elite national fishing tournament to Smith Mountain Lake with ESPN television coverage. Not only did he get them here once, he and everyone involved made it so great and so much fun, they turned it into repeated tournament trips. For someone who grew up on the South Fork of the Holston River and never owned a fishing pole, not even a bamboo one, I can even appreciate this accomplishment.
I, for one, don't know how to calculate the money brought into the area by these events, but it's got to be huge! My best guess is it probably wouldn't touch a figure unless it's in the millions!
He never ceased to amaze me with his "thinking outside the box" or coming up with things that would better Franklin County.
At one time, he talked about a micro-brewery and a distillery that cranked out legal Franklin County 'shine. The latter would be an industry that could not fail. Just think about all of the free advertisement that goes back 100 years. Hells bells, everybody in the whole wide world has heard and wants a sip of Franklin County's best known product, including Germans. I can't think of a place I've ever been that hasn't asked me about it after I mention the fact I'm from Franklin County.
I've enjoyed every minute of every trip down the river with Scott and Jenn. I envy, but don't wish, I'd been with her this summer for a week-long paddling trip on some really great rivers in Mexico. Since that trip, she ranks right at the top of the list of expert paddlers along with Raymond Williams.
Since writing the story about his resignation last week, I have learned Scott's official title with 21st Century Parks is chief operating officer. I talked with Dan Jones, founder, president and CEO of 21st Century, and he is sure they had picked the right man for the job. Everything Jones said in describing his impression of Scott was right on the money.
My father always said things will work out for the best. Scottman turned down several super job officers to remain in Franklin County. The reason had to be that Scott's dream job was still in the future.
Sure, there'll be rough times ahead, but I know that there is so much opportunity for Scott to develop the best park of its type in the U.S. that he'll stay busy for years...maybe into the post-retirement bracket.
One dream I had will never be realized, however. We talked about going through the proposed whitewater park (at the old power dam) together when that project was completed. Now, it's going to be up to Scottman's replacement to see that this project, which is going to be a huge economic boost to the county and town, is completed in the future.
There's no doubt in my mind the county will never find anyone to fill Scott's shoes. My only hope is that his replacement will continue some of he projects he started but will not be able to finish.
So in closing a column that could go on almost forever, I guess I'll just go to an old classic song by Gene Autry: Happy trails to you, Scottman, be it blueways or greenways. You will be missed by more people than you will ever know!
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