Sarah Ashley This is Me

Education

 Web References

1. 1. DesMoinesRegister.com | Life

   www.dmregister.com/apps/pbcs.d - [Cached]

   Published on: 11/7/2004   Last Visited: 11/7/2004

   Family tradition: Sarah Ashley, left, the 24-year-old mayor of Bassett, sits in City Hall, with the old jail cell in the background.
   ...
   Meet 24-year-old Sarah Ashley, also known as mayor of Bassett.
   
   It probably won't be long before she leaves her hometown.
   
   But first she's taking her shot at leading it. *** Sarah didn't walk into Bassett's top job cold.
   ...
   "I didn't think he did anything," Sarah admitted. "I thought it was just the title."
   
   The family has deep roots in the Bassett area. Jim Ashley's great-great-great-grandfather purchased land there in 1854, more than 40 years before the town was incorporated.
   
   By 1999, though, when Sarah was graduating from Charles City High School, her hometown had shrunk to six roads, about three dozen houses and four businesses, counting her dad's trucking operation.
   
   Sarah seems at peace with this transition. Too young to fret over what the town has lost, she likes Bassett the way it is.
   
   "It's fairly quiet," she said.
   ...
   About a month before the election, Sarah decided to enter the race.
   
   She didn't have to worry about rounding up campaign contributions, putting out yard signs or jumping through other hoops mayoral candidates must jump through in larger cities. A town with only about 20 eligible voters, Bassett doesn't even bother with pre-printed ballots for local elections. All candidates are write-ins, and residents interested in running just alert the city clerk.
   
   Sarah told her mom, who added her name to the list of those willing to serve if elected. She ended up losing to her dad, who didn't think his youngest child was ready to take over yet. The margin of victory: two votes.
   
   Somehow, Sarah managed to refrain from asking her mother how she voted.
   
   "She wouldn't have told me anyway," she said with a laugh.
   
   Sarah didn't take the loss too hard. A student at Wartburg College in Waverly, she had more important things to worry about. After skipping through three majors in three years - accounting, elementary education and social work - she had been suspended from school for her grades.
   
   She decided to give the police science program at Hawkeye Community College in Waterloo a try.
   
   "She got straight A's there pretty much," her father said proudly.
   
   Sarah hadn't given up on political office, however. Her close finish encouraged her to run again two years later. This time her dad stayed out of the race and at the age of 23 - the same age he was when he won his first term - she became mayor.
   
   Among the nine votes she got was Jim Ashley's. He passed on a warning with his congratulations.
   
   "I believe his words were, 'You're in for a headache,' " she said dryly.
   
   Sarah took office last January in a swearing-in ceremony that consisted of herself, her mom and her dad. She presides over the town's five-member council, the city clerk, treasurer and a part-time maintenance person - which means nearly half the town's eligible voters are either elected officials or on the city payroll.
   
   The town has an annual budget of only $12,000 to $14,000, but residents still are accustomed to a high level of service. In the winter, for instance, in addition to clearing snow from Bassett's two miles of paved roads, the city plows every resident's driveway.
   
   Sarah earns $1,000 a year as mayor and said she pretty much goes by her father's, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" philosophy.
   
   "We don't have the budget anyway," she said firmly, sounding as if she has had some practice with that line.
   
   Just five months into her term, Sarah graduated with honors from Hawkeye Community College. Since then, she's had to wrap being mayor around a part-time job as a jailer in Floyd County and on-call work as a dispatcher and jailer for Chickasaw County.
   
   She leaves for work after dark and doesn't usually get home before dawn. She sleeps days and said she feels guilty she's not as available to the people of Bassett as much as her dad, a former school bus driver, used to be.
   
   The job of mayor is harder than Sarah expected, but it's not because she's deluged with complaints. She figures she only gets about three calls a month.
   
   Nor is it really the time demands, although she admits she was surprised to find that in addition to the monthly council meetings, she also represents Bassett on the countywide 911 and Disaster Services boards.
   
   What really weighs on her is the expectation that she can solve her constituents' problems.
   
   Problems with the city she can handle. Glass on the road? No big deal. She doesn't mind getting a broom out and sweeping it up.
   
   But what about when residents are irritated because the neighbor's dog won't stop barking, or someone isn't keeping his grass trimmed properly? In the middle of such resident disputes, Sarah admits she feels the most like the kid she still looks like and the least like her community's top leader.
   
   She said it took her two days to summon the nerve to knock on the door of the people who weren't mowing their lawn. She was grateful they took her seriously and didn't slam the door as she feared. They even mowed.
   
   So far everyone she has encountered has been polite to her, Sarah said. Still, she can't help dreading the next call.
   
   "I don't like people not to like me," she said matter-of-factly.
   ...
   One of the reasons Sarah has a key to City Hall is to start up the two space heaters in advance of meetings, which are, by necessity, short.
   
   The council meets the first Monday of every month unless it falls on a holiday. Then it meets the first Tuesday.
   
   The meetings give Sarah something else to feel guilty about. She has had to miss several because of work.
   
   This more than anything is why, when asked about her, one council member quipped, "I really wouldn't have anything nice to say."
   
   Jeff Lawless, 53, the council's longest-serving member and a neighbor of the Ashleys since Sarah was born, is more generous.
   ...
   "It seems like if I say hi to somebody, they don't just say, 'Hey, how are you doing, what have you been up to?' " Sarah said. "Now it's 'Hey, how are you doing, what have you been up to, I have this complaint.' Sometimes they just skip the 'Hey, how are you doing?' part."
   
   Overall, Sarah said she'd probably give her performance as mayor a 5 on a scale of 1 to 10. That's far below the 8 or 9 she'd give her father.
   
   "He understood the job a lot better than I do," she said simply.