The Times

THE TIMES

The local community newspaper for all South Dade John T. Watters, President & Publisher William von Maurer, Editor Robert M. Slane, Advertising Manager Subscription: $3.00 year by mail anywhere

Conflict Of Interest And The 4-Way Test

The conflict of interest status of members of the new administration in Washington have been under serious study by the Congress and Senate of this great nation. This painstaking probing of the business connections and holdings of the men who will control the nation's affairs for the next four years has a particular significance for the residents of Coral Gables. It was only this month that the City Commission of Coral Gables, by a 3 to 2 vote, refused to strengthen and clarify the conflict of interest provisions of the City Charter. Three members of the Commission chose to reject the resolution introduced by Commissioner Joe Murphy to revise the City Charter section which covers this all-important matter. The only reason given for these negative votes was that the present conflict of interest protection is "adequate." It must be interesting to the Commissioners to note that not once in the reporting of the conflict of interest probes in the nation's capital has there been the slightest suggestion that such investigations not be pursued in most careful detail. There is no such thing, gentlemen of the Commission, as too much protection against conflict of interest in democratic government. The Congress knows that simple fact. The new President of the United States has demonstrated that obvious truth by declaring all his wealth. The members of the incoming Cabinet have gone to great pains to clarify their conflict of interest status for the Congress and the public. Elected officials from the grass roots to the nation's capital must nurture with care the public confidence in the electoral process, if we are to live under democratic institutions. Even if the conflict of interest provisions of the Coral Gables City Charter are adequate, which they aren't, what has been gained by the rejection of the reform offered by Commissioner Murphy? Did this refusal by three of the men sitting on the Commission enhance their reputations as wise legislators? Did its impact strike the voters as a simple legislative maneuver, or did it leave them puzzled? Did the 'no' votes add to the cynicism with which too many local voters regard city politics, or did it help the cause of those who urge more Gableites to take part in the municipal government? And last, but not least, did the three 'no' votes meet the Four Way Test, a rule of thumb creed of morality solemnly adopted by unanimous vote of the present Commission? The idea of the Test is to apply its four steps to our actions to see if they meet the high standards which they embody. Here they are as adopted by our City Commissioners: Is it the Truth? Is it fair to all concerned? Will it build good will and better friendships? Will it be beneficial to all concerned?

No Gang Planks, Please

Passengers on the cruise ship Santa Maria are getting more than they dreamed of on their "fun cruise" in the Caribbean. How many victims of organized shipboard recreation, shuffleboard and high-caloriced cuisine can boast of a personal encounter with piracy on the high seas? As for the daring Captain Galvao and his hardy band of 70, what will be their fate? There hasn't been a call for a yardarm in decades. And, oh yes, we hope the same can be said for gang planks.

CORAL GABLES COMMISSION CONGRESS STUDIES CONFLICT OF INTEREST STATUS OF NEW ADMINISTRATION FOUR WAY TEST PROPOSAL TO STRENGTHEN CONFLICT OF INTEREST PROVISION INK

Remember The Times

25 Years Ago Sparks flew when Gables City Commissioner M. B. Garris tossed a monkey wrench into the city's charter. Garris accepted a position with the State Board of Engineering Examiners. Some critics said this automatically disqualified him from holding the Commissioner's post. Garris replied he was not disqualified . . . Gables architect Phineas Paist and federal government officials bowed their heads in thought as they pondered on how to decorate the new community house and library . . . Coral Gables Elementary School observed its 13th year at a birthday party . . . Coral Gables joined the nation in celebrating the birthday of President Franklin D. Roosevelt. 10 Years Ago The three financial institutioins in Coral Gables showed in a survey that they lead all other banks in Dade County in deposits made . . . Don't cross your bridges until you come to them, goes the old saying. But there was a Coral Gables bridge you couldn't cross, even if you did come to it. It was the bridge at Bird Rd. at the canal. It was closed for three months to allow construction men to repair it. 1 Year Ago Vandals ransacked the Antilla Hotel to the tune of several thousand dollars . . . Two, new $23,000 fire trucks rolled into the Coral Gables Fire Station . . . Attorney Frank Guilford, 32, was named "Man of the Year" by the Coral Gables Jaycees . . . The Rev. James Lanier began his pastorate at Bird Road Methodist Church . . . Coral Gables architect Donald Brown was named to the Educational Council of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

PROFILE of the week

STAFFORD Nineteen years ago, John C. Stafford bundled up in a parka to help drive off the Alaskan winter that dipped to 58 degrees below zero. Then an Army sergeant with the personnel division of the General Staff, Stafford is now co-owner of The Skillet, a restaurant at LeJeune Rd. and Giralda Ave. In love with Coral Gables, Stafford now casually pokes at the keys of his cash register or his typewriter as he makes out the menus. And what's more, he now can wear a sport shirt open at the collar. A long way from the biting cold of Alaska. When Stafford had some free time at the base in Anchorage, he'd pack up his hunting or fishing gear with a buddy and head for the hills. No more. Stafford, a spectacled man with dark eyes and dark hair with sprinkles of grey at the temples, admits frankly that running a restaurant takes up any sparetime he might have. Stafford, who lives at 1510 Lisbon St., went into partnership at The Skillet with Gene Lawrence in 1956. Born in Long Island, N. Y., Stafford received most of his formal education there. During the late 30's, he attended the College of the City of New York for four years. World War II erupted and Stafford was in the Army from 1942-46 and spent most of his time in the Aleutians. When Stafford's tour of duty was up, he went into the air conditioning and heating business in White Plains, N. Y. and was there until 1956. Stafford is a member of the American Legion, Post Number 98 of Coral Gables and attends St. Theresa, Church of the Little Flower in Coral Gables. Bn. Long Island, N. Y., Dec. 5, 1915 Bus. Restaurant, The Skillet Ed. College of the City of New York

South Miami Roundup

By EDWIN KNIGHT I AM NOT WHAT one would call a mechanically-minded fellow. Sure, I know a hammer from a screwdriver and a nut from a screw. But when it comes to fixing bicycles, lawnmowers, dolls or dishes, I'm lost. I am envious of those men who are home fixits. THEY HAVE WORK benches in their utility rooms, jars for their nuts and bolts and tools for every occasion. But I have none of these. I can tape the aerial back on the television set when it falls off and I can oil the kids' bicycles when I hear them squeaking. I CAN CHANGE light bulbs when there is total darkness, put kerosene in the heater and sharpen knives. But I am not a mechanic. I faced up to the fact many years ago. And I have told others of my difficulty. They consider it laziness and hope I will change. MY CAR AND THE repairs it periodically needs are a complete puzzle to me. And my 1953 Chevrolet is getting older every day. A kingpin to me is a gambling czar. A universal is a Hollywood movie studio and a clutch disc is an instruction for an Olympic decathlon star. HOWEVER, MY PROBLEM has been partially solved by the descriptions amid strange noises I make when I'm at a repair garage telling the mechanic what I think is wrong with my car. A sputter here and a click-click there do wonders when you're trying to tell your mechanic the car's latest ailment. ONE MECHANIC in particular has become quite attuned to my sounds and consequently quite adept at fixing my vehicle. But he invariably shows me the broken auto part and wonders how I could have driven for as long as I did. "YOU KNOW WHAT was wrong with your car, don't you?" he asks. I smile, shift my weight to the other foot and respond that I don't. "Your satafort was worn out and you know what that can do to your gisiforut." I answer that I thought that was the trouble all along. HE THEN HANDS me a disgustingly greasy piece of machinery that purportedly came from my car. And I spend the next 15 minutes with my hands in gasoline trying to get the grease off. My mechanical ineptitude cost me a lot of time and money last week. IT WAS STILL DARK the morning I drove down to work. All the other drivers had their lights on. I put mine on. I could see without them but having one's lights on seemed like the thing to do. But I forgot to turn the lights off when I went into work. I ALMOST BROKE the ignition switch trying to get my car started that afternoon. It didn't make so much as a sound. The battery was dead. I went to a nearby garage and poured out my troubles. The mechanics seemed sympathetic - but amused. They firmly agreed that the trouble could be in my battery. AN ATTENDANT WHO didn't seem to have much more mechanical aptitude than me was sent to my car. He had a high-voltage battery which he attached to my battery to get my car started. He applied cables from the new battery to poles on the old battery. THE CAR STARTED with a limping sensation and the attendant unfastened the cables. "Is it charging?" he asked. "Yes," I replied, "but in the wrong way. He came around and looked at the dashboard battery meter. When I revved up the engine, the needle went to othe left. When the engine was idling the needle stood up and down. HE TOLD ME that didn't mean anything at all. We motoring home I drove faster than usual. I wanted to charge up the battery. The meter went all the way to the left, almost out of sight. I thought it was charging. I stopped for some gas but couldn't get my car started again. ANOTHER MECHANIC was needed. I told him the whole story. The needle going to the left seemed to tickle him. "The attendant put the wrong cables on the wrong poles," he told me. "All the time you were driving with the meter going to the left you were draining juice from the battery." I didn't think it was funny. HE CHARGED MY BATTERY. It took an hour. I walked around, watched the mechanic fix the toulafrang on a car and asked interesting questions. The needle went to the right driving home. It was charging. I went out after supper to start the car. The battery was dead. I GOT A RIDE to a service station and again poured out the day's story. I again wanted a charge, but the lad on duty thought I wanted to start a charge account. "No," I told him. "I want my battery charged." We went to look at my car. He decided a new battery was just the thing for my car. I AGREED.