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Daily Press
MOTORCYCLES, JESUS AND SERVICE
By OSCAR JOHNSON
Daily Press
(11/24/01)
They don black leather and denim, sport names like Doc, Stumpy and Po' Boy, and ride Harleys and Yamahas. But this band of fraternal brothers is neither postmodern posse from the West nor outlaw motorcycle gang.
They're the Buffalo Boyz Motorcycle Club of Williamsburg. And they say their mission is divinely inspired.
Their name, like their gruff exterior, comes from the 19th-century "Buffalo Soldiers." Those were African- American U.S. Army cavalrymen, so dubbed by American Indian warriors, it's said, because of their appearance and ferocity in battle.
But for this band, harmonizing gospel spirituals in church is as easy as riding their bikes. And their reputation for community work and charity evokes ease and thanks when they ride into town.
"We're just modern-day Buffalo Soldiers," said Louis "Star Child" McKiney, 48. He draws a parallel between the role that the early soldiers played in protecting settlers and the club. "We go to the aid of those that are less fortunate than we are."
The Christian club formed in 1995 to better their community, with a special emphasis on bettering the youth. Those who know them say they are well on the road to success.
On Thursdays, club members can be found tutoring James River Elementary School pupils at Grove Recreation Center.
"They're nice," a shy Rusty "BJ" Gay said. The 8-year-old second-grader noted that he'd had members of the club look over his spelling tests on occasion. He plans to be a Buffalo Boy some day -- not just because he wants a cool motorcycle, he said, but because "I like helping others."
His great-grandmother -- Elsie Williams-Jones, who's seen the bikers in action with children -- approves. "It rubs off," the James River tutor and volunteer said.
When the club started working out of Grove Center, about a half-dozen students attended, club President Larry "Shy Guy" Godwin said. Now, he said, they average about 30 to 40.
"Every week, it seems like we have more and more kids taking advantage of what we have going on," he said.
Club members also conduct regular Bible studies for youths. And one Sunday a month, leather-clad group members park their bikes at a different local church, where they often are called on to give religious testimony and melodic baritone renditions of spirituals.
"They spend quality time with the children in the community," said Officer Sonya Whitely of the James City County Police Department. She met members of the group three years ago. "They have a positive effect on everyone in the community."
Their work also involves various fund- raisers, and 25 percent of the 30-member club's dues go to charity, Godwin said.
In October, 20 of the bikers took to the road and visited local shopping centers. There, they gave gospel concerts and passed their helmets around to collect funds for the United way of Greater Williamsburg.
In addition to United Way's 1998 Cruikshank Award, their community efforts have been recognized by several local fraternities. Most recently, the club was one of six groups selected to get James City County's Outstanding Volunteer Service Award.
"They're a wonderful service, and they believe in the community," county Supervisor Jim Kennedy said. "They don't do a lot of talking. They just get the job done."
The Buffalo Boyz are the area's third generation of African-American motorcycle clubs -- albeit with a Christian twist, members said. There were the Peninsula Riders, who cruised roads in the early 1950s, followed by the Crusaders of the late 1960s and 1970s, members said.
Much like second-grader Rusty, McKiney said he remembered being inspired by members of the Crusaders when he was 8.
With members ranging in age from the teens to the 70s, some have made the transition from older, defunct clubs to the current incarnation.
Ronald "Po' Boy" Lassiter, 52, remembers his days as a Crusader. He said there was a big difference back then. Much of the money that the club made from fish fries and dance halls pretty much went to drinking and carousing. Then he became a founding member of the Buffalo Boyz.
"One night, I was going to Maryland with this guy," he said, motioning to McKiney as he recalled that night. He suggested on that night that they stop for a drink. "He said, 'I don't need nothing, man. I got Jesus on the back of my bike.' "
That made a lasting impression on Lassiter. "So I decided I'd get Jesus back there too," he said. "He's still back there
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A HEART FILLED WITH HONOR:
MUCH-DELAYED MEDAL ON ITS WAY TO SURVIVOR OF WORLD WAR II
By OSCAR JOHNSON
Daily Press
(4//5/02)
After 60 years, Noel Ravneberg, 85, on Tuesday will finally receive the Purple Heart for Military Merit he deserves.
But he's not bitter about the delay, the more than three years he spent as a World War II prisoner of war, or a more-than 50-mile forced trek that took the lives of thousands of American and Filipino soldiers -- all experiences he endured.
"Something happens to everybody in life," Ravneberg says with a nonchalant shrug and a grin. "It's part of life. I don't regret it one iota."
There seems to be little in life that brings down the Ford's Colony resident.
In recent years, a stroke caused him to have to relearn speech, and his sight and hearing are failing. Still, he says with a smile that "the only thing I really regret is not being able to drive anymore." It's a privilege he had to forgo a couple of years ago, he adds.
These days Ravneberg has something new to give thanks for. He's recently received more than 10 medals for his military service, including the Bronze Star and the WWII Victory Medal.
And the prized Purple Heart is on its way.
It's good that he received help from the Williamsburg area Order of the Purple Heart, neighbor and friend Dick Paroubek, the local staff of Congresswoman Jo Ann Davis and others, because Ravneberg says, "I never thought about medals."
But the pride with which he presents the medals in a display case on his study wall shows that he's more than a little happy to have them.
"When I called him he started crying," said C.R. "Butch" Downey, a retired Navy man himself. The district representative for Davis helped push through the paperwork to get Ravneberg's medals.
It wasn't easy, Downey said. It wasn't until the 1996 National Defense Authorization Act was passed that WWII veterans who were wounded as POWs qualified for the Purple Heart. In the case of Ravneberg and others seeking recognition for their service or medical benefits, the situation is further exacerbated.
Since a 1973 fire destroyed thousands of military personnel records at the National Personnel Records Center in St. Louis, it has been hard to find proof of injuries that Ravneberg and others incurred in the military, Downey said. But this time he and others did.
Ravneberg's friends and his wife agree that his positive outlook is as worthy of their pride as his service to his country.
"I'm just happy that he's getting all this done," Evangeline Ravneberg says of the long-overdue awards. "I'm happy that he's not bitter."
"He is very optimistic," says Paroubek. "He's always willing to do what he can do."
Ravneberg's willingness led to him become one of two volunteers from his U.S. base in Taiwan to go to Manila in 1941. When he volunteered he had no idea he would some day be a survivor of the Bataan Death March.
U.S. and allied Filipino troops ran out of food and ammunition on April 9, 1942. They were forced to surrender their defense of the Filipino peninsula of Bataan. After their Japanese counterparts took them prisoner, thousands died in a march of about 65 miles from Mariveles to Camp O'Donnell. Accounts of the losses vary, but it's agreed that tens of thousands began the march and thousands died before it ended.
Starvation and sickness took many lives. But the march is also known for the many prisoners who were shot for breaking ranks to get water from nearby springs or simply not being able to continue without rest.
Ravneberg says he endured beatings two to three times a week at the two camps where he lived during his imprisonment. He recalls work details where workers labored all day wearing only loincloths, bamboo hats and boots.
"I have no bad feelings about the Japanese," Ravneberg says. "When a lieutenant in the Japanese army got mad, he beat up the sergeant; the sergeant took it out on the corporal. ... You knew you were going to be next."
He also remembers making the best of it. When he traded six bars of soap for 10 pounds of salt, he says, he began a lucrative career bartering the valued commodity for everything from cigarettes to soy sauce.
Still, when the war ended, the man who once weighed 175 pounds was an emaciated 85 pounds.
After recovering from his ordeal for about a year in military hospitals, Ravneberg was too eager to get on with life to look back or to look for medals, he said. The North Dakota native headed for Queens, N.Y., where he plied his trade as a watchmaker before earning a bachelor's of science degree in geology from Columbia University.
Framed photos of faraway places on his study's walls show that the world opened up to him from there.
His work as a geologist took him to regions including Africa, South America and Iceland.
When Ravneberg left North Dakota for New York, he left behind his then-sweetheart Evangeline.
"I didn't want to go to New York," she says, as if the idea still seems absurd.
The two went their separate ways, married other people, raised families and were later widowed.
In the summer of 1994, she received a call from him, which soon led to a marriage proposal. They were married later that year.
In all, Ravneberg says, "I've had a good life."
He will be presented with the Purple Heart at Fort Monroe at 11 a.m. on Tuesday -- 60 years after U.S. troops surrendered to the Japanese at Bataan where he was imprisoned.
AUTHORIZATION
* It wasn't until the 1996 National Defense Authorization Act was passed that WWII veterans who were wounded as POWs qualified for the Purple Heart.
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JAMES CITY COUNTY, VIRGINA POLITICS:
(THREE STORIES ON THE POLITICAL MILIEU OF HISTORICAL WILLIAMSBURGﾃ｢竄ｬ邃｢S BURGEONING MUNICIPAL PARTNER.)
CONCILIATORY WAYS PUT TO THE TEST:
NEW JCC BOARD CHAIRMAN FACES FIRST CHALLENGE: SCHOOL BUDGETS
By OSCAR JOHNSON
Daily Press
(2/8/02)
Jim Kennedy is no stranger to annoying some people, and impressing others.
His working-class Democratic parents couldn't have been too pleased when, at age 9, he tacked a Richard Nixon campaign poster to a tree in the family's front yard.
"Two hours later, it came down," he says with a grin. "But I was allowed to keep the button and a sticker on the seat of my bike."
The eight-vote margin that put him on the James City County Board of Supervisors during the 1999 elections was no landslide. But his populist door-to-door campaign and successful efforts in 1998 to block plans for an asphalt plant in his Stonehouse District endeared him to some.
It's perhaps this balance between annoyance and amiability -- the working man everyone can relate to and the sharp politico -- that caused the supervisors to elect the 41-year-old pizza restaurant owner and former optician as the board's chairman last month. Colleagues Jay Harrison and John McGlennon say they did so because of Kennedy's ability to be conciliatory.
Now, as the supervisors gear-up for budget talks with the Williamsburg-James City County School Board next week, Kennedy's rallying behind cries of "communication." He says that's what's needed to approach the traditional tension over budget issues between most commonwealth school boards and the municipalities that hold the purse strings.
"Both bodies are doing their jobs," he says in a peace-making tone. "The supervisors have to deal with tax and appropriations and the school board has to get what they need."
But in James City County -- despite the cautious tone of both boards -- it likely will take more than words. Especially for a relationship taut enough to warrant refereeing from an independent mediator the last time the bodies met for a retreat.
This year, there's even more at stake. School officials are bucking for a referendum to build a third high school to head off overcrowding. Supervisors have indicated they are not yet convinced of the need and wonder if expanding existing schools is a better option.
"I have questions for the retreat," Kennedy said of the annual budget summit set for Feb. 15 between Williamsburg, the county and their joint school board. "We have to take a look at what type of school. How much it would cost."
But sometimes questions can annoy. They can be interpreted as interrogation -- even micromanaging.
Bruce Keener, a six-year school board member until this year, agrees the problem is conflicting budgetary goals of the two boards. But he is not swayed by Kennedy's olive-branch offer.
"He just comes across as trying to bully the school division," says Keener, who acknowledges that he's considering another bid for the school board or even running against Kennedy next year. "I don't think he has a full and complete understanding with schools. He hears things, he gets involved and overreacts to them."
Whether he overreacts or not, even Keener is among those who acknowledge that Kennedy has his ear on the community.
Linda Wallace, president of the Chickahominy Community Improvement Organization, admits that when Kennedy began phoning her during his first failed campaign for supervisor in 1998, she was among those he annoyed.
"I didn't want to speak with him," she says. "People make promises, and promises never come forth."
But Kennedy prevailed and she soon found herself distributing his campaign fliers in the predominantly black community. He lost that bid to finish the last term year of Stewart Taylor, who stepped down shortly before dying.
But when Kennedy came back to take the next year's race, Wallace jokes that his eight-vote victory came from her community. And she says she has no regrets.
Now, half-way into his term, she says he still calls. And she can call him. Kennedy has helped the community raise funds for a resource center, regularly attends community meetings and has sat with the members to help brainstorm on how to address their needs, she says.
"He's still sticking with his promises as far as jobs and education goes," she says.
By the time Kennedy made his first bid for office, his parents were not surprised he ran on a Republican ticket.
"They told me they loved me, and if they lived here, they'd vote for me," Kennedy recalls, "but they'd never give a Republican money."
His first campaign showed an ability to draw constituents from both parties, if not a little partisan schizophrenia.
He says that when he announced his candidacy, he intended to run as an independent. With reluctance, he says, he "flirted" with the county's Democratic Committee. The one-time meeting, he says, amounted to his "interrogation," leaving him and local Democrats chafed at the idea of a marriage. The party endorsed no one that year.
Kennedy's first bid for supervisor followed resident opposition to a proposed asphalt plant for the Stonehouse District. A founding member of the Stonehouse District Citizens' Association, he announced his candidacy the day the supervisors rejected the plant on a 3-2 vote.
With then-Stonehouse District Supervisor Andy Bradshaw voting in favor of the plant, the time was nearly ripe. (Bradshaw had been appointed to fill the seat until the 1998 special election could be held.)
Riding the wave of the citizens' association's victory, he proclaimed his candidacy. A day after his brush with local Democrats, he says, he and the county's Republican Committee embraced. Politically savvy, since at the time the district solidly had backed Republican gubernatorial candidates for more than a quarter century, he came back to win the seat from Bradshaw in 1999.
"He was a vigorous campaigner," says Bradshaw, who acknowledges he has not ruled out running against Kennedy again next year. "He spent a great deal of time knocking on doors and meeting with people." Another impressed constituent, albeit annoyed
JCC LEADERS ALIGNING TO TACKLE PRIORITIES LIST
By OSCAR JOHNSON
Daily Press
(1/9/02)
With elections over, a fresh supervisor sworn in and a new chairman on the dais, Republican-majority county leaders are poised to pursue their priorities: lowering taxes, dropping a plan to systematically charge developers and -- if need be -- putting future elections ahead of a new high school.
The five-member board's four Republicans closed ranks on the issues at their annual budget-planning retreat Saturday. The nonbinding proposals left the board's lone Democrat and former chairman, John McGlennon, in isolated opposition.
Despite a pressing need for a bond referendum to build a high school, supervisors signaled that they would rather give way to politics if it were planned for 2003, when some of their seats and School Board positions would be up for election.
The Williamsburg-James City County School Board projects that the county's two high schools -- Jamestown and Lafayette -- will exceed their capacities within the year.
Plans to build a third high school have yet to make it to the drawing board. But school officials anticipate a referendum in the near future to have it up and running by 2006, before school crowding becomes unbearable.
"We'd like to explore a referendum this year," newly appointed board Chairman Jim Kennedy said.
He also said the board planned to ask school officials for their input.
Citing the time needed to choose a site and design the school, he and newly elected Powhatan District representative Michael Brown agreed that it was unlikely that a proposal could be ready for a vote by this year or next. They also stressed that no decision had been made.
Brown pointed out that his seat wouldn't be up for election, but said a 2003 referendum "would probably not be a wise course."
Others disagree.
"I think the more critical issue is when do we need to move on a referendum, if we think it is justified," McGlennon said. "Better to do that than to worry about the political consequences."
Outgoing School Board Chairwoman Mary Minor also expressed concern. "The longer we delay, the more we increase the need to eliminate student choices in curriculum, such as foreign language, building trade and upper math classes," she said.
At Tuesday's supervisors' meeting, three of five residents who spoke urged the board not to delay building a third high school.
"Do it sooner than later," David Feldman said of the referendum. "The time to begin the process is now."
Others made pitches for money for classroom computers, a fund to preserve the area's green space and for increased needs for senior services.
In another development, the board's long bout over whether to devise a formal policy on proffers -- fees charged to builders for the effects that their developments are likely to have on county resources, such as water, sewers and schools -- is cued for the trash bin, supervisors said. The policy is to negotiate the "voluntary" payments case by case.
Amid cries of "foul" from developers, the board in October shuffled the controversial decision -- which would have set sums as high as ,933 for some residential units -- back to the Planning Commission for more consideration. It wasn't the first time. And the commission had expressed frustration over the apparent waffling, which it said led to unnecessary haggling between county officials and developers.
"We won't ask the Planning Commission to take this up, and we won't be asking the staff to hold a public hearing," McGlennon sad. He alone supported a proffer policy, which he insisted would have helped determine a development's cost to the county. "It will simply fade away."
The Jamestown District representative also took issue with talk of possibly lowering the county property-tax rate 2 cents for every of a home's assessed value. He cited an anticipated tight state budget and car-tax relief granted by the commonwealth.
But Kennedy stressed that the current plan was only to consider the possibility.
"We're waiting for the state budget to come in, and we've asked the county administrator to take a look at a reduction," he said. "We want to take a look at giving back to the taxpayer."
JCC OFFICIALS APPROACH TAX CUT IDEA WITH CAUTION:
REPUBLICAN SUPERVISORS SAY CITIZENS BURDENED
By OSCAR JOHNSON
Daily Press
(2/5/02)
After a bleak budget forecast from Richmond, the county Board of Supervisors is treading a little more lightly around its idea for a 2-cent tax cut.
This more cautious tone occurs despite a near-windfall of about million to the county's coffers from annual property reassessments. But that might not be enough to take to the bank now, county officials say.
"The state is looking at cutting some programs that might affect some citizens," Board Chairman Jim Kennedy said. "The state has got itself in a fine mess, and it looks like some of it's going to filter down to the counties."
The idea for a tax cut was fielded when supervisors met for their annual retreat last month. With elections over and a new chairman in place, they set an aggressive agenda, which included a possible tax cut.
The current real estate tax rate -- 87 cents for each of a property's assessed value -- means an annual tax bill of $1,740 for a ,000 home. A 1-to-2-cent tax- rate cut could reduce that payment between and .
Citing annual tax reassessments, the five-member board's four-Republican majority has voiced consternation about the current tax. They say it puts undue burden on taxpayers and gives the county money to burn.
That -- and an increase in total revenues in recent years, including a 13 percent spike in 2000 -- has spurred talk of a tax cut.
"We ran quite a large surplus by last year, so when we had our budget work session, we gave staff some guidance to come to us with a 2-cent-reduction proposal," Supervisor Bruce Goodson said.
After the state budget is completed -- and the county's administrator and finance manager crunch the numbers -- the supervisors will make their decision, he said, albeit with a caveat.
"I'm more concerned that they'll take support from mandated services," Goodson said -- the state money that's usually divvied among local governments. "I want to keep county services equal to what they were in the past."
After joining other municipalities' officials to meet state legislators Thursday, the enthusiasm of James City's supervisors for a tax cut deflated to cautious optimism.
"In the past, I've been supportive at looking at the possibility of some type of tax cut," Supervisor Jay Harrison said. "But if we have a reduction today, what does that do tomorrow?"
The proposed state-budget cuts are poised to hit schools hard. They include wiping out an anticipated 2 percent pay raise for public-school teachers and shifting the burden of teacher retirement health care to localities. Money for some educational materials also was trimmed from the commonwealth's budget.
The enthusiasm for the tax cut is seasoned, but Goodson expressed the most optimism.
"I'm pretty hopeful," he said. "This may be a temporary thing. It may last a couple of years, then we may have to bump it back."
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