This Labor Day weekend, I will have resided in Alliance, NE for 36 years.
How and why did a Nebraska football junkie from Valparaiso, NE wind up 375 miles west of where I was raised?
The story begins at Nebraska’s halfway point, Cozad.
By the time 1986 was half over, I began to feel I could take my radio promotions experience that I had gained at KAMI in Cozad, combine it with the organizational skills I had developed as a Cozad Jaycee, and begin advancing up the employment ladder. I began applying for jobs that had nothing to do with journalism such as a chamber of commerce director, marketing positions for large companies in Omaha and Lincoln, and travel and tourism opportunities such as booking conventions at hotels.
The Nebraska Department of Travel and Tourism interviewed me for an opening they had in promotions — which I knew I could handle because I had been promoting Dawson County’s tourist attractions for years, and the state position would have been conducting similar work on a statewide basis. However, the job was offered to someone else.
I was beginning to believe I was destined to remain at KAMI and KOOC Radio in Cozad when I received a call from Gene Sanders of Alliance. Mr. Sanders inquired if I was interested in coming to Alliance for an interview. The chamber of commerce had an opening for its executive director position. Gene said the search committee was impressed with my background in community promotions and journalism.
I counseled Cozad Chamber Director DeEtta Hartman, who encouraged me to at least interview for the job. DeEtta had been with the Cozad Chamber for 14 years and knew the demands put on a chamber director like she knew the back of her hand.
A week after the Dawson County Fair wrapped up, I drove to Alliance, not sure what to expect. It had been extremely hot in Cozad throughout July and August, but when I arrived in Alliance for my 4 o’clock interview, the downtown bank thermometer read 78 degrees.
Mr. Sanders had told me the interview would take place at 221 Box Butte Avenue, near the downtown’s main intersection.
I arrived for my interview about 10 minutes early, and the search committee was already there. I was grilled for the next hour by the committee, which consisted of Fred Caventer of JC Penney’s, Ron Hiatt of Western Bank (now Wells Fargo), Gene Sanders of Dayco (now Parker), and Dee Miles of Town and County Real Estate. The committee members told me they were basically looking for a community cheerleader. Their new director needed to be someone who could run quality promotions; who could represent the community in a positive light; and someone who could establish good relationships with the local media.
It didn’t sound too tough.
Then it was my turn to ask questions. And I had several. My most direct question was, “On a scale of one to ten, with one being the worst and ten being the best, rate the unity of your community.” All four committee members squirmed a bit and looked at each other, hoping the other guy would speak first.
Finally, Ron Hiatt did.
“Maybe a five,” he said. “I suppose — on a good day — a six.”
The others shook their heads in agreement.
I inquired as to why he thought the number was so low, and Hiatt stated there were several reasons, including:
a. In the late 1970s, the Burlington Northern Railroad had promised to double the size of Alliance and never did, thus the citizens didn’t trust the railroad.
b. Since the city council and city administration believed Alliance’s population was going to approach 20,000, the city was over-developed, and the City of Alliance was now several million dollars in debt.
c. The railroad had recently forced the local livestock sale barn out of business because the railroad needed the space to expand its diesel shops.
d. The railroad had torn down the town’s historic train depot.
e. The citizens of Alliance had recently endured a 24-hour blackout on a 100-degree weekend because the city had an electric substation fail, thus creating more citizen mistrust in its local government.
f. Box Butte County had moved the courthouse from Hemingford to Alliance 87 years ago (1899) and Hemingford was still mad at Alliance.
g. During the recent Heritage Days celebration, the chamber of commerce allowed Pizza Hut to place a booth in the street in front of the local donut shop, which created hard feelings between the two dough entities.
After listening to Hiatt explain the problems, it became clear to me that Alliance was anything but an alliance. I’m still trying to figure out why I didn’t say, “Thanks, but no thanks,” to coming to Alliance. Maybe it was my ego. Maybe I was naïve enough to believe I could truly make a difference. Maybe it was because I had a difficult time believing a community could truly have so many problems or that a town named Alliance could be laced with that many conflicts. Cozad was no Rainbow River Valley, but it certainly wasn’t this screwed up.
The bottom line was: These people were willing to pay me $18,000 a year to manage the Alliance Chamber, and that was $6,000 more than I was making in Cozad.
A few days later, Ron Hiatt called and offered me the job. He said the chamber would pay for my moving expenses, my salary, and my health insurance. He nixed my request that the Alliance Chamber develop a retirement fund for me.
Hiatt was a straight shooter.
“Chamber directors usually last about five years,” he said. “I don’t have any reason to believe you’ll last much longer than that.”
I was at peace with my decision to move. I knew some great opportunities awaited me, and a heck of a lot more money.
I arrived in Alliance on the evening of September 7, 1986. As I passed by the Guardian State Bank at Third and Box Butte, its electronic thermometer read 48 degrees. I unloaded my clothes and boxes while a gentle mist fell, and I settled into my new apartment located on the second floor of 819 Box Butte Avenue.
Afterward, I took a cruise around Alliance and almost began life in my new community in a horrifying way. I was driving south on Box Butte Avenue and took a left-hand turn onto Second Street, and I nearly ran into an Indian woman who was crossing the intersection. Even though my car window was rolled up due to the mist, I could hear the obscenities she was screaming at me. I drove around a little while longer and then decided I would check out Toad’s Lounge. I spotted a woman that looked like my near-fallen victim and kept an eye on her as she approached the bar counter where I was seated. She asked the bartender for a six-pack of beer and pulled three crumpled dollars out of her pocket. I quickly handed the bartender a five-dollar bill and told him it was my treat. She smiled at me, and a tear started rolling down her right cheek. Now I could go to bed with a clear conscience.
On September 8, 1986, at the age of 27 years, two months, and eight days, I walked from my home at 819 Box Butte to my office at 221 Box Butte and began my new job as the Executive Director of the Alliance Chamber of Commerce.
That morning, I bought a size 42 navy blue blazer from Famous Clothing for $100. It was the first new jacket I had ever purchased on my own.
Since that day, a lot of other memories have floated under the Alliance bridges.