...And Then There’s Adelphia

I was talking to my sister Lisa about how hard I found it to watch the Enron movie and added I knew it would be even harder for her to watch something like that about Adelphia. Her voice became choked and she said, “I’ll never be able to be objective about that. No matter what.”

It is an ironic thing that both my sister and I should be connected to players in two of the greatest business scandals of this century. In Lisa’s case it is even closer — that’s what happens in small towns. Coudersport, Pennsylvania is nothing like Houston, Texas. Lisa moved there to take a teaching job over twenty years ago, married a local boy, bought a house, had two sons. She is a wonderful teacher in this very rural, very remote town and has taught a full generation of its children. Potter County Pennsylvania is one of the least populated counties in the state. For years its only industries were a small Sylvania plant and the logging in the surrounding forests. The people are good, down-to-earth country people.

One of the things Lisa did when she began teaching there was start an after-school club for kids to teach them how to sew. Basic things, threading a needle, mending a hem, sewing on a button. The kids loved it. Once Lisa and I were at a local gas station when a big, burly, bearded fellow noticed her and came over. “Hey, Mrs. Bretz, look,” he yelled plucking at the front of his flannel workshirt. “I lost a button and I sewed it back on myself.” And, even though the fellow stood a full head over her, Lisa examined the job he did and assured him it was fine. That’s the kind of place Coudersport is.

Adelphia chose Coudersport for its headquarters many years ago and, over the years, it grew and grew until it was the biggest deal in town. Everyone knew John Regis and his family, he was a part of everyone’s lives. When Lisa’s husband, Doug, got out of college he ran into John Regis in a local coffee shop and asked him if there were any job openings at Adelphia. He said he was just out of the Navy and college and his wife was pregnant. A week later he was working at Adelphia’s home office — he’s still there. At least for now.

John Regis loved Coudersport and he loved the people there. He did so much to improve their quality of life. He started other businesses, a Christmas tree farm and a beautiful nursery. He brought the Rochester Philharmonic there for an annual concert. He built a little spring-fed pond where people could come to get fresh mountain water and the children could feed the ducks and geese. He knew the names of the children and loved to talk to them. He made Coudersport a special place to live. Lisa and her family loved him. When the news of his corporate malfeasance broke, no one could believe it. They still can’t.

There is a half-completed golf course that Regis was building when the scandal broke. It now sits incomplete. There is a huge, beautiful marble and glass building in the town center that was to be Adelphia’s new home office. It is empty. A lot of beautiful homes sit empty too. As the company grew new employees were recruited from all over the country. They came to Coudersport eager for fresh country air and low cost of living but within a year or two they always left. There was nothing to do in Coudersport — not by their standards — and they moved on. Was John Regis trying to use money to enhance the cultural and entertainment venues in the town to keep employees? I don’t know. But that is a thing I have thought about.

We all make mistakes. I have an entire catalog of them. But the bigger the playing field we exist on, the correspondingly more huge are our mistakes. And then there comes the point where the mistakes multiply into something else. It is sad. What can people like my sister and her family believe? The John Regis they knew was a good, admirable man — he contributed a lot to their lives.

“If they ever make a movie like that about Adelphia,” Lisa said, “I wouldn’t be able to watch it.” That’s the thing about loving the goodness in people who do bad things — the heart has a hard time letting go.

Thanks for reading.