Newest commissioner cuts salary, trims expenses, questions everything at courthouse

Reprinted from the East Texas Journal February 2014 Edition

In 2012, Precinct 1 Commissioner Al Riddle challenged an incumbent with a campaign built on the back of a hyper-active Tea Party with the county court dead in its sights. County government was under an assault like nothing seen since Titus County officials were among those in 73 East Texas counties where commissioners were indicted in a kickback scandal in the early 80’s.

Targeting everything from hotel bills and travel accounts to budget oversight, this time it was all about the money.

“This court is a tax and spend operation that’s tone deaf to the real status of our local economy,” Barbara Bruechner said in a September 24 address to the court. The elections were six weeks away.

“You have protected and preserved the sacred cows at the courthouse, like your travel allowance salary bonus, for another year. You have managed to kick the can down the road once again, leaving another court or generation to assume the leadership roles.”

Dubbed the “Half Price Commissioner” by supporters and opponents alike, Al Riddle promised to work for half the court-approved commissioner’s salary. Instead of taking the likewise court-sanctioned $15,600 allowance for in-county travel, he promised to set a new standard, turning in mileage and taking the IRS allowable reimbursement.

That worked.

He took office in January, 2013.

And with the exception of changes in operation of the road maintenance work for his precinct, where he has direct control of his budget, he’s among the first to say that his impact to date has been minimal.

“I’m not used to this,” said the one-time Teamster’s Union dock worker who early in a trucking career turned company man. “Most of my working life was spent with direct control over every aspect of the offices where I was just as directly accountable for every part of the operation.

“The only thing tough about this job is meetings where we’re not addressing the things I believe we need to be talking about,” he said.

Inside the courthouse, he’s an outsider.

“Al’s viewed as troublesome at the courthouse because he asks too many questions,” Mrs. Bruechner said. “But he’s doing exactly what the voters who put him in office expected him to do.”

That’s not an idle observation. There are some 650 voters on her e-mail list.

And she’s prolific.

A country boy turned street kid in a tough neighborhood when his family moved to Dallas, Al Riddle came of age working on a loading dock.

Born at Sugar Hill, his family moved to the west side of Dallas in the early 50’s. His neighborhood’s claim to fame was that it was once the turf of legendary outlaw lovers
Bonnie and Clyde.

“It was the low-rent side of town and one of the things I remember is how many other people coming off East Texas farms had moved there,” he said.

In later years he started a trucking company from scratch, grossed $4 million in his best year, retired, and came home to Titus County.

He bought land, the nicest home he’s ever had, enough cows to satisfy the property tax ag exemption and started building a barn.

It was the Tea Party vs Courthouse play that ignited his interest in local politics.

“I had all the time I wanted to build my barn, so when it got too hot to weld, I’d go up to the courthouse,” he said. “Up until then, running for office after I retired wasn’t something I’d ever considered.”

Other than frustration with courthouse discussion, a year into office “it’s the easiest job I’ve ever had,” he said. “It sure beats the last time I worked for the government.”

In spite of regularly skipping school to work on the docks, he escaped South Oak Cliff with his high school diploma in 1955, went into the service and worked as a supply clerk at bases in Alaska.

“In my circle, everybody knew we’d have to serve time in the military so most of us just signed up,” he said. He volunteered for duty in Alaska after hearing tales of the fishing.

“I grew up at Sugar Hill,” he said. “So to me a river in Alaska was no more than a big creek. I bought an old pickup and we built a little house on the back of it for a camp. My boss loved me because I worked hard, but those guys with me on those fishing trips were a lively crowd so none of us got many promotions and we got out as quick as we could.”

He enjoys telling the tale of his “exit interview” with the military.

“It’s their job to tell you all about the benefits of making a career of the military so you have to go sit through that,” he said. “The sergeant I talked to was from Corsicana – we knew each other. He just grinned, signed me out and said, ‘There’s no need wasting your time and mine.’”

Back in Dallas, GI bill in hand, he enrolled at Arlington State, now UT Arlington, and was welcomed back at the docks by Strickland Trucking.

On a morning after a day in class was followed by a graveyard shift unloading freight, “Mr. Strickland himself called me in.

“He challenged me,” Commissioner Riddle said. “He laid it out, the way my career could be if I could cut it. I was young and as far as I was concerned, I already knew the tough end of the job. I understood how freight moved. A lot of the guys I worked with every day were ex cons. The work was hard but the pay was good.”

It wasn’t until the offer was on the table that he thought what it was going to be like when he quit the teamsters and turned company man as a dock foreman, the entry level slot in the Strickland management trainee program.

“You learn in a hurry or you don’t make it,” he said. “My first night as a foreman, a dozen guys walked out on me.” He wasn’t given time to enjoy success after he re-gained control and brought order to his shift. He was moved through dispatch, clerical work and office management before being sent to New Orleans as a terminal manager, then to Saint Louis.

“The opportunities I had in both places were created because there was a terminal manager running in the red,” he said. “You keep learning in a hurry when you understand that unless you put the operation in the black, you’ll go out the door the same as those guys did.”

Ultimately, he successfully put his career lessons to work with his own enterprise.

Now, he’s challenged again.

“I’m seeing first hand how in government it’s easier to side-step the tough discussions I believe we should be having,” he said. “I don’t believe we’ve got enough of the right people in the right places. But even when I feel like I’m a lone voice at the courthouse, I’m encouraged by people I meet on the street. With the primaries coming up, people are paying attention and I believe in the voters in Titus County.

“They had the good sense to elect me and I’m thankful for it every day,” he said. “I’m thankful because I have hope. Next January we’ll have at least one and possibly two new members on the court. I’ll have two years left in office if I can live to 80 and I’m feeling pretty good right now. I’m ready to talk about the way we spend tax dollars anytime anybody’s ready and willing.”