Advertisement
Opinion

OPINION | EDITORIAL: Measure of a sheriff

Byron Tate

The quote is attributed to famed UCLA basketball coach John Wooden. It goes something like this: The measure of a person’s character is how they act when no one is watching.

That important bit of a character yardstick was on display recently in Arkansas County, where the sheriff resigned for a racially charged tirade that was secretly recorded.

Then-Sheriff Todd Wright took exception to the mother of his child having a casual conversation with a Black employee at a DeWitt grocery store. Wright, who is white, apparently verbally lit into the woman, using the n-word numerous times during a racist rant that she recorded. Why the woman recorded him and why she then made it public — well, that will have to keep for another day.

But she did record him and the recording went viral, as one might imagine, with the sheriff’s voice also apparently easily identifiable from the recording.

When the county judge got wind of what was going on, he called a special meeting of the quorum court, where things came to a head. Mind you, the sheriff is duly elected, and the quorum court has no authority over the person in that position, at least in terms of whether the occupant stays in office or leaves. But the justices of the peace do have a bit of a bully pulpit, and after hearing from members of the public, all of whom were upset with him, and then hearing from Wright as he tried to defend himself, they voted unanimously to ask for his resignation.

What Wright said, which apparently changed no one’s mind, was that what he said in the privacy of his own home shouldn’t be used against him and also that the devil made him do it.

We’re not sure where the devil fits into this scenario, but we are all for the privacy in one’s home argument. Except when what is done or said in private in one’s home becomes public and it’s ugly. No matter where something is said, the public can’t unhear it. This isn’t a court of law where a judge can disallow certain evidence or testimony. This is a court of public opinion, and in that court, pretty much everything is admissible.

If you read the story in The Commercial last week, you know the outcome: Wright resigned. It took a lot of convincing. Perhaps one of the strongest arguments came from a former law enforcement officer in Arkansas County who told Wright that he had messed up and that he needed to “lay that badge down, lay that gun down and walk out of here.” Wright eventually did, which was a good thing for him and for Arkansas County.

After it was all over, Wright spoke to our reporter, Eplunus Colvin, telling her that he is not a racist and that “you would find no basis for that label from one person over the last 26 years.” But in fact, if one listened to the recording, the conclusion would likely be that the person speaking was indeed a racist.

The issue here is that Wright wasn’t an average citizen. If this had happened to farmer Wright, those in his immediate circle might have taken offense or rolled their eyes or maybe ceased to have anything to do with him. And he’d go on being a farmer.

The point that Wright was missing was that with his elevation to office, he is no longer a private citizen but is now a public official, one in which the people of an entire county put their trust to serve and protect them.

The bar, for many activities, is lot higher for a sheriff than a farmer, to continue that analogy. And after his angry, racist words went public, his actions as a sheriff would forever have been questioned.

There’s no need to pry into what is really in his heart. Some things are unknowable. But when words come out of a mouth and people hear them, right or wrong, they can’t help but assume that those words reflect on what makes up the person.

We all say things we wish we could pull back. But we’re not all in positions of power and influence. For those individuals, sometimes there’s no recourse but to step aside.