Is Gilligan at Hoke’s Helm?

Correction: It turns out the new pool was only a supporting cast member in last year’s popular episode of Hoke County’s long-running comedy series.

The cameo appearance of a $2.5 million water overuse fee—in the same scene the James A. Leach Aquatic & Recreation Center is introduced—was not the only factor in Hoke County’s unexpected, unscheduled and unbudgeted bill last year. It was off the commissioner-approved script, however, and now being laughed off in politically motivated, plausible-deniability rumors.  

Catharin Shepard, editor at Hoke County’s News-Journal, provided a county contract that proves the pool played a minor role in that tax revenue siphon. It’s a mere drop in the bucket, as she quipped in her e-mail.

In 2024 Hoke County is allowed to purchase 2,532,000 gallons per day from Fayetteville PWC (Public Works Commission) without receiving more unplanned bills from the utility. Odds are good the figure was similarly oceanic last year, at the time when we conservatively estimated it took a quarter million gallons just to fill the pay-for-play facility.    

The numbers pale in comparison, but in our defense it’s impossible to accurately determine water volume when pool drawings, meeting minutes and other public documents are guarded like the plans for an upcoming SEAL Team 6 raid. Flush frequency is yet another slippery variable that makes the exorbitant facility more than just a bit player.

It’s a recurring character in a budgetary soap opera where H₂0 drains more than 10 percent of every tax dollar spent. Hoke County paid $9,235,365 for water in 2022. The numbers from 2023 are still submerged somewhere on a county desk, but that “unexpected” $2.5 million probably drove last year’s figure up to somewhere around $13 million.

The Punch Line   

Shepard was told a county employee was assigned to monitor volume of water coming in from Fayetteville PWC and ensure it didn’t reach the $2.5 million overuse-fee level. She didn’t reveal the source of that rumor, but it wears a Teflon veneer with enviable deniability.

That person—if he or she even exists—forgot, was sorting their sock drawer or busy tackling other duties when the needle pegged. The alternative, of course, is sitcom slapstick. “Quick, drop water pressure below the standard trickle. I don’t care if there’s a fire. They have buckets, don’t they?”

His or her departure from Hoke County’s cast of characters would be fast after the furious flood of complaints arrived. Finger-pointing bad actors would remain. Everybody loves a good villain, after all.           

Lack of water supply has become so critical that, according to Shepard, one company has voluntarily slowed construction on a site scheduled for 400 homes. Building is underway, but in phases rather a single wave. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen the county work with developers on adding water resources, but it is the first time I’ve seen lack of water resources put a brake on development like this,” she wrote.

It makes you wonder who’s manning Hoke County’s helm, Gilligan?