THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, September 9, 1995 TAG: 9509070364
SECTION: REAL ESTATE WEEKLY PAGE: 26 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: About the Outer Banks
SOURCE: Chris Kidder
LENGTH: Medium: 97 lines
After a dozen years in the Tar Heel state, I've developed an ear for slower speech and an appreciation for a pot of collards cooked with fatback. But I still don't understand the Southern ideal of good government.
In a majority of these United States, municipalities have what's known as ``home rule.'' Home rule means that as long as they don't contradict existing state and federal statutes, local governments can create their own rules and regulations.
They can create special tax districts and collect their own revenues. They can, in other words, manage their own affairs.
Most Southern states, however, don't cotton to home rule. They see themselves in a more paternal light. They dole out a little power here, a little more there, but keep most of it centered in the state capital.
Although home rule was first authorized in Missouri in 1875, it has appealed primarily to urban states. Historically, rural states have rejected home rule to keep the concentration of power in the hands of the state's land-owning gentry.
But don't make the mistake of interpreting a vote against home rule as a vote for increased state regulation and control. These landowners were looking for ways to maintain the status quo. The last thing they wanted was a big, invasive government.
It's no mere coincidence that the Southern system smacks of the feudalism found in Antebellum society. In the minds of many Confederates, the War Between the States was as much about states' rights as it was about slavery. The governmental principles that fueled the war live on.
The tradition of states' rights in North Carolina goes back to its original charter as a proprietary colony, says Fleming Bell, a member of the Institute of Government faculty at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill. ``North Carolina was a business venture and, as with most businesses, you want to have centralized control.''
Other states were begun by individuals wanting freedom, says Bell, ``but North Carolina has no strong independent tradition.''
I didn't know all this when I called Ray Sturza, Dare County's director of planning, a few months ago while researching a column I was writing about restrictive covenants.
A reader had complained that the county was shirking its duty by not enacting more stringent regulations for factory-built homes in Dare County subdivisions.
``I can't tell you how many people come to me expecting government intervention in matters like this,'' Sturza says. ``People need to realize that North Carolina still is largely a rural state. It's run by people who don't advocate a lot of government control over their land.''
Without home rule, ``We're unable to act to regulate certain aspects of government,'' says Sturza. ``We have to get our powers an increment at a time.'' Each addition to local power is a special favor granted by Raleigh.
Localized zoning restrictions, annexation of property by a municipality, and creation of special tax districts to fund community improvements are some examples whereby local voters are bypassed in favor of the noblesse oblige of the state legislature.
Dare County hasn't requested the state's permission to micro-manage zoning. They've called in their chips, you might say, on other issues, leaving the creation and enforcement of building restrictions beyond those set out by the state building code to private homeowner associations.
To digress just a bit, the recent stir over an ABC license for the restaurant at the Pirate's Cove subdivision in Manteo is a case in point.
Even though the legislation was quickly rescinded, citizens demanded to know how legislators in Raleigh dared pass legislation allowing Pirate's Cove to get an ABC license in spite of voter referendums in Manteo defeating liquor-by-the-drink.
It's no mystery to me: Legislators in Raleigh were simply doing business as usual. Every session, they're inundated with local bills. Dozens of ABC licensing exceptions have been passed without fanfare. The Pirate's Cove legislation was neither unique nor under-the-table.
My geo-political roots show when I say that the state's intervention in liquor service seems no odder than Manteo's annexation of Pirate's Cove without a voter referendum (because the state legislature granted municipalities certain rights to annex).
Or that property owners in Duck couldn't create a special tax district to pay for village sidewalks (without special legislation being passed in Raleigh).
The system is not as cumbersome as it seems, says Jay Wicker, a professor emeritus at the Institute of Government. ``The avenue for local legislation that we have here is not available in home rule states. It generally works to the advantage of the local citizens.''
And, says Bell, the state has loosened its grip. There is a lot of local legislation introduced each session, but there used to be a lot more. Local government ``couldn't eat, breathe or jump without the legislature'' before the laws were rewritten in the 1970s.
``Even in home-rule states, you might not be able to control things as much as you'd like,'' says Wicker. Maybe not, but like the clipped, rapid-fire talk of Illinois, my native state, home rule sounds good to my Yankee ears. MEMO: Send comments and questions to Chris Kidder at P.O. Box 10, Nags Head,
N.C. 27959. by CNB