The Rose That Grew From Concrete

From humble roots, he rose to success

Harper is shown in his replica General Lee.He loved the television series “The Dukes of Hazard” so much that he bought one of the General Lee’s used to promote the show for his antique car collection. Later, he purchased a “Boss Hogg Cadillac” and a police car. He used the three cars to simulate chases from the series. Johnny Harper said his brother would dress as one of the Duke boys, and Johnny’s brother-in-law, who is blonde, would be the other one. They enlisted Gary Littles to be “Boss Hogg,” and Johnny Harper drove the police car. Once, they even rented a dog. Together, they participated in several Christmas parades and benefits.

Richard C. “Buddy” Harper is being remembered this week as a man who overcame humble beginnings as a sharecropper’s son to become a successful businessman.

The founder of Harper Electric was also a family man, known for always looking out for family members and friends and “keeping everything together.”

Buddy Harper bid his first job in 1969. As he got more jobs, his brothers, Robert and Johnny Harper, and their brother-in-law, Scott Dunevant, worked with him.

“He was the oldest and he kept everything together,” Johnny Harper said. “We started with power lines and right-of-way tree trimming.”

In the early days, the company did work for Baldwin County and Covington Electric. Through the years, their reputation and their work expanded, taking them throughout Georgia, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, Texas and the Carolinas.

Johnny Harper said it was the reputation the company earned as hard workers that got them many jobs.

“We were known for taking bad jobs,” he said, explaining that the Harpers and their employees would work where others wouldn’t. They also had a reputation for working with fewer men, less equipment, and in less time.

He said he and his brothers grew up in a sharecropping family, working in the fields. In high school, he said, Buddy would work before school for L.C. and Bonnie Stokes in their store on South Cotton Street. He also had a paper route.

“We had a motor scooter,” Johnny Harper recalled. “He would come by the house to take a shower, and me and Robert would go finish throwing papers.”

“We grew up trying to survive,” he said.

Pictures tell the stories of what they were able to accomplish, working in rolling hills or chest deep in water building transmission systems. The most difficult job, Johnny Harper recalled, was in Pascagoula, Miss., building a transmission system through the Escatawba swamp just north of I-10. It was one of the first times they worked with concrete poles.

The Rose That Grew From Concrete: Being attractive in the hood is ...

That was my Facebook status last Saturday. I wasn't wearing anything low cut, tight fitting, "inviting", nor was I naked, but somehow I ended up feeling totally exposed.

I'm not the thickest crayon in the box or the most gorgeous of them all mirror on the wall, but sometimes--like when I'm standing at the bus stop with men yelling and honking from their cars, or watching me from across street corners and the bus conveniently decides to run beyond behind schedule--I wish I was a little more unpretty.

The other day, I asked a friend of mine for a ride because I was wearing make up that day and told him that it wasn't a good idea for me to be on public transportation and traveling on foot around my neighborhood looking too cute. I think he may have thought I was joking, but I was serious.

I have no problem with compliments, or even a SHORT lustful glance, but with some men it doesn't stop there. Some will circle the block...walk with (follow?) you...stand with you...invade your personal space while engaging in unwarranted conversation.

I remember being a little girl and ignoring the cat calls while I was walking to the store our out playing. It only takes so many times of hearing, "Well f**k you then!" or "B***h" before you figure out that maybe ignoring the problem won't make it go away. I learned to speak and be friendly (because God forbid my lack of acknowledgment be misconstrued as an overall dismissal of the BLACK MAN and I am the ANGRY BLACK WOMAN,oh no).

But even in speaking, extending that common courtesy of speaking when spoken to is sometimes interpreted as an invitation. I just want to get on the bus, man. I just want to get where I'm going and look how I look. And I want that to be okay. Even dressing "down" isn't enough. I'd have to dress down to looking like a crackhead, I suppose.

Walking these streets, I think a lot about little girls. I think about little gils with grown women bodies who are getting the same attention I get when I'm at the bus stop. Those thoughts scare me. They just want to get to school. Or to their Granny's house.They just want to get where they're going and look how they look. And they want that to be okay. I want that for them.

When I saw a bus coming in the opposite direction, I ran across the street to catch it. Figured it'd be better to go out of my way and ride it all the way back around then stand on that corner waiting for it to circle back. Before I got on, a dude yelled out, "You changed your mind about the bus? I was coming  back for you!