Barbour-run GOP machine took out able lawmakers

Democrat John Mayo survived the Vietnam War after coming within inches of having his head blown off.

But in 2011 his three-term legislative career couldn't survive when he was targeted for defeat by the Haley Barbour machine.

Consequently, the amiable Mayo, now 68, was trampled along with a dozen other able Democrats in the Barbour-inspired Republican takeover. Twice elected mayor of Clarksdale in the 1980s, Mayo holds a master's degree in government from Mississippi State University.

To replace Mayo, the Barbour-run GOP machine had recruited Republican Gene Alday, the former mayor of the tiny town of Walls. Two weeks ago Alday became nationally condemned for his remarks viciously demeaning disadvantaged local black citizens. In an interview with reporter Jerry Mitchell of The Clarion-Ledger, Alday had said "I come from a town where all blacks are getting food stamps and what I call 'welfare crazy checks.' They don't work."

Mitchell, in a follow-up story, reported that census figures indicate more white households in his county receive food stamps than those of African-Americans.

Of note, Alday's town is home to Sacred Heart Southern Missions, one of the largest Catholic relief institutions in this part of the country. Soliciting contributions nationwide (I am one contributor), it provides aid to hundreds of low-income families and children, regardless of religious affiliation. Based in Walls for some 50 years, the mission is said to be the tiny town's biggest employer.

There's no chance Mayo will face off again with Alday. Simple reason: House District 25 as constituted in 2011 no longer exists because of redistricting. Besides, Mayo has no desire to again run for office. He's much too happy teaching several subjects at Coahoma Community College and serving as a volunteer sports writer/photographer for the college.

Mayo was certainly no back-bencher when he was in the Legislature. When the state was hit with the national recession in 2004 (in Barbour's reign), Mayo raised a lone voice, bringing up the dreaded "T" word (i.e. taxes). He put together a broad plan to raise some $212 million in new revenue to save education, mental health and human services from drastic cuts. The chief revenue producer in his plan would increase the top bracket of the individual income tax from 5 percent to 6 percent, the same top rate the state had until 1965. That proposal instantly put Mayo's legislative career squarely in the crosshairs of the manufacturer-business lobby to which Barbour was closely allied.

Rather than back some revenue-producing measure to balance the budget, Barbour and his forces reverted to the old no-tax plan to cut spending in already-starved major services. They also dipped heavily into supposedly hands-off special funds, among them the tobacco trust fund, and the longstanding highway reserve fund used to service highway bond issues. All of these robbing Peter-to-pay-Paul sorties by the Barbourites were done with promises to pay them back. That never happened as long as Barbour occupied the governor's office, and there has not been even a whisper of a payback since Republicans took control of the legislative process.

Looking back, those days were the beginning of the plan to take Mayo's name (or any of his allies) off the wall in the House — for merely even mentioning the "T" word, much less introducing a bill to implement a revenue-producing plan to save some of the state's vital programs from a bloodletting.

Bill Minor is a contributing columnist. Contact him at P.O. Box 1243, Jackson MS 39215.