Austell’s hands-on mayor aids cleanup

By Ralph Ellis

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

Austell Mayor Joe Jerkins parked and walked up to Katherine and Terry Bennett, who stood outside the brick ranch house where they lived before the 500-year flood drove them out.

“Joe, do you think the country or the city could buy us out?” Katherine Bennett asked, standing with crossed arms in the shady driveway littered with bits of sodden carpet and broken furniture.

“That’s what FEMA does,” Jerkins said, explaining where the couple needed to register. He urged them to hurry because “When the money gets gone, that’s it.”

The Bennetts thanked him for dropping by. Jerkins replied, “I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do, holler.”

Jerkins runs Austell, a blue-collar town of 7,000 people split by railroad tracks. He’s been mayor two decades. He’s the city manager, supervising 100 workers. His photo is the dominant image on the city Web page. To find City Hall, just drive down Joe Jerkins Boulevard.

He’s not one to holler, but this flood hit Austell like a 2-by-4 to the head. Floodwaters damaged about 700 houses plus 50 businesses. FEMA will be a major player in the town’s recovery.

“If it hadn’t been so bad we would have handled it ourselves,” Jerkins said. “That’s normally what we’d do.”

Jerkins, 67, is very hands-on. When he saw cars clogging a major intersection during last week’s floods, he stepped into the driving rain and directed traffic. Nobody who knows Jerkins was surprised.

“If he sees dirt that needs shoveling, he’ll get in there and shovel himself,” said Kirsten Anderson, a city council member. She thinks city workers follow his example.

Jerkins has always had a prodigious work ethic. The child of an alcoholic father and a mother who was hospitalized with mental problems, Jerkins was raised by his grandparents in Austell.

He was working as a drive-in carhop at 12, quit school at 15, married at 17, and laid tile and built houses before starting Joe’s Bottle Shop in Austell in 1974. Sandra Jerkins, his wife of 50 years, said her husband told her in advance the liquor business would take “many, many long hours to make it work.” She agreed to support him, and they settled into a routine, with Jerkins leaving for work about 5 a.m. and returning home at midday.

“From noon until two I didn’t do anything but take care of my husband,” she said. “He wouldn’t rest more than 45 minutes. He’d go back to work and stay until closing at 1 a.m. He did that for 15 years and that’s how he was able to retire and take care of his family. We both came from poor backgrounds and we knew what it was to make and keep a dollar.”

He sold the business in 1989, having achieved his two big goals: becoming a millionaire and going big game hunting in Africa with his son. He ran for mayor and won, promising to run Austell like a business.

“I love the city,” Jerkins said. “I love the employees. I want to do things to help.”

Jerkins said he puts in “three hard days” a week as city manager now, but estimated he worked 80 to 90 hours weekly the first few years. The city manager quit before the 1989 election, so Jerkins took over those duties, saying it would save the city money, and kept them. The city changed the charter to make it legal.

He works cheap. He didn’t take any salary the first 14 years, instead giving the money back to city employees in Christmas bonuses. But Jerkins said his wife complained a little, so he now makes $30,000 a year, plus expenses.

“I don’t do as much as when I first went into office,” said Jerkins, noting the city only had 30 employees when he became mayor. “I’ve worked on the garbage truck, I’ve rode with the firemen. I try to stay involved to see what their needs are. I’ve cut grass with the inmates. I’ve dug ditches.”

“Joe has never been a politician,” his wife said. “He’s a public servant.”

Jerkins has been earning his pay lately.

Since the flood waters receded, Jerkins has watched the storm cleanup by cruising around town in his Chevrolet HHR. He rolls down the window to talk with city employees. Though some residents complained about the speed of relief recovery, disaster workers credit Jerkins with being proactive.

Jerkins ordered 50 huge trash bins and placed them in the most damaged neighborhoods a few days after the flood. John Jansen, a Dumpster monitor who said he worked at other disasters, including Katrina, said local governments rarely move that quickly.

“Normally there wouldn’t have been any for a few weeks,” Jansen said. “Austell got way out in front on this.”

On Friday, only a few bins remained in the Mulberry Creek subdivision. Jerkins said 140 tons of debris had been removed from the city.

“I was real impressed they brought in the Dumpsters and helped with the cleanup,” said resident Becky Bentley as she stood in her living room, stripped clean of drywall and carpeting. “It’s a vast improvement over what it was.”

Jerkins also persuaded the city council to approve a 30-day, no-bid contract with a disaster recovery firm that promises to help the city document all its flood-related expenses. That way the city can obtain maximum reimbursement from FEMA.

When the flood cleanup is finished, Jerkins will have another challenge. He has two years left on his term and will talk to his family before deciding whether to run again.

Meanwhile, his daily travels take him up and down the street named after himself, a poor boy who made good.

“It’s a pretty big thing, I guess,” Jerkins allowed. “I guess they thought I done something good for the town.”