THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, December 15, 1994 TAG: 9412150004
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A26 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Editorial
LENGTH: Medium: 72 lines
The agonizing over a proposed prison on the Eastern Shore is as much a cultural clash as a tussle over whether the facility is the type of industry Northampton County should welcome.
While opponents might be expected to be predominantly the haves and proponents the have-nots and growth advocates, this fight also is about changing the way of life for a significant number of county residents:
Seasonal workers, primarily farm hands and watermen, make up about 10 percent of the population. They are employed a few months annually and ``make'' their living the rest of the year from unemployment insurance and welfare programs.
It's little wonder that Northampton County has Virginia's fourth-highest poverty rate - 26.6 percent - a standing that has seen no significant change since 1980. It's little wonder that so many county residents occupy substandard houses served by pit privies.
The wonder is that more of Northampton's 13,000 residents don't make it known that they see a state prison employing 425 people at an average wage of $17,000 annually as a way out of poverty.
Not only would the pay outdistance the average per-capita Northampton County income of $12,000-$16,000, depending on the source of the figures; it would bring retirement and health-care benefits that elude seasonal workers and burden local social-services agencies.
So far, opponents have been far noisier, using all sorts of ways to say the county should reject the maximum-security prison no matter what benefits state corrections officials advance, no matter how up-front the officials are in pointing out drawbacks of prison - anywhere - as well as benefits.
Residents would do better to learn all they can about the prison instead of falling in with a group that already has made up its mind.
If Northampton had seen substantial, recent growth in high-wage jobs - or even if the prospect for such jobs was imminent - it might make sense to hold out for more appealing industry. Sadly, many county residents have been waiting for years, and growth has been in low-paying service jobs, manual labor and government.
The question, then, is whether Northampton County can afford to say no. If there are insurmountable problems such as endangering the limited freshwater supply - an issue that is under study by appropriate agencies - the answer must be rejection.
But if apprehension about the Eastern Shore's becoming known as a penal colony rather than as a placid tourist mecca is the guiding factor, it's a non-issue. Tourism and a prison are not mutually exclusive, and tourism alone will not sustain Northampton County.
Better that Northampton be known as a county that working to upgrade itself than as a resister of industry that could help elevate average family income from just under $23,000, third lowest in the state.
Better to be known as a county that chips away at its extremely high unemployment rate and encourages residents to work at the prison for decent wages year-round than as the perpetuator of their working seasonally and collecting public benefits the rest of the year.
As the Department of Corrections envisions it, the prison would open within three years. That's plenty of time for Eastern Shore schools and the community college to prepare residents for employment at home.
It's fine for the haves to be concerned about the glow of prison lights over the Shore's pristine farmland and the remote chance that prisoners could escape into the community, but the have-nots might remind them that the parking lots of minimum-wage, no-benefits fast-food restaurants and shopping centers also cast a glow.
If Northampton County's have-nots truly want change, they must not let opponents convince prison officials and the rest of the world that theirs is the only voice. The have-nots' future depends on how loudly they speak. by CNB