[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 146 (2000), Part 2]
[Senate]
[Pages 1613-1614]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]



                         JIM GOODMON--VISIONARY

 Mr. HELMS. Mr. President, back in the mid-1960s, I was 
enjoying life as one of the guys active in the management of a very 
successful television station in my hometown of Raleigh. The company, 
Capitol Broadcasting Company, had been founded by a remarkable 
gentleman, Mr. A.J. Fletcher, born in the mountains of Western North 
Carolina, son of a circuit-riding Baptist preacher whose ministry 
included hundreds of mountain families who attended the many churches 
under the watchcare of the Reverend Mr. Fletcher.
  Those were hard scrabble times and by today's standards, just about 
everybody whom Reverend Fletcher's ministry served was poor.
  A.J. Fletcher had nonetheless begun a lifetime love affair with the 
music of opera. So he headed east, to Raleigh and Wake County; 
virtually penniless he nonetheless studied law at night and in the 
process developed an instinctive knowledge of business and investment. 
In the years that followed, neither A.J. Fletcher nor anyone else in 
his family ever lived another hard-scrabble day.
  Mr. President, I developed a high respect and genuine friendship for 
and with Mr. Fletcher. What I have recited up to this point is intended 
to be a lead-in to a magazine article about one of Mr. Fletcher's 
remarkable grandsons, James Fletcher Goodmon who today is president and 
CEO of Capitol Broadcasting Company.
  I will get to the article in a moment, Mr. President, but I am 
obliged to mention my earliest impressions of Jim Goodmon when he was 
in high school in Raleigh and worked every possible minute of every day 
(and night) that he could manage at the television station (WRAL-TV) 
which was to become the flagship station-to-be of an expanded Capitol 
Broadcasting Company.
  I saw young Jim Goodmon frequently back in those days (and nights) as 
he concentrated on learning everything possible about the mysteries of 
keeping a television station on the air. Many times he was covered with 
grease, many times he was bound to have been tired, but Jim Goodmon was 
then, as he is today, a hard-charger. Grandpa Fletcher was proud of 
Jim--and so was I. I sensed back then that Jim Goodmon would one day be 
a leader in television--as he certainly has turned out to be.
  A few words about Jim Goodmon's family. After attending Duke 
University, Jim Goodmon found a bride--a lovely one and a hard-charger 
herself--across the mountains in Tennessee. Barbara Lyons was a 
registered nurse then. Now, years later, Barbara Lyons Goodmon 
genuinely cares about people. She and Jim have three children and one 
grandchild. They complement each other; both stay busy but never so 
busy that they cannot help each other in their myriad of projects.
  What I have stated is scarcely more than a snapshot of a remarkable 
family. Mr. A.J. Fletcher is long gone from the scene but I have a 
hunch that he is looking down from a Cloud Nine somewhere, nodding his 
approval of the way Jim and Barbara are doing things.
  Let me hurriedly add that Jim Goodmon is president and owner of the 
Durham Bulls baseball team which plays its home games in its dandy new 
stadium about 20 miles away in Durham--and then I will proceed to 
calling attention to a profile about Jim Goodmon published in the 
latest issue of the magazine, Region Focus.
  The article, by Betty Joyce Nash, is entitled ``James F. Goodmon, an 
industry visionary and community cheerleader defines the future.'' Mr. 
President, I ask unanimous consent that this article be printed in the 
Record.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

     Profile/James F. Goodmon--An Industry Visionary and Community 
                     Cheerleader Defines the Future

       Jim Goodmon was fighting fatigue and a cold. He had just 
     flown back to Raleigh, N.C., from Colorado where he helped 
     pitch the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill Triangle area as the 
     site of the 2007 Pan American Games. Goodmon played a key 
     role in luring the 1999 Special Olympics to the Triangle, so 
     why not the Pan Am games?
       It wasn't meant to be. San Antonio was chosen instead of 
     the Triangle. But that's irrelevant, Goodmon says, his spirit 
     hardly dampened by the loss, the jet lag, or sniffles. North 
     Carolina, he says, showed initiative in planning and 
     promoting the future.
       ``What's important is that we were working on something in 
     2007 and not for next week,'' says Goodmon, president and 
     chief executive officer of Capitol Broadcasting Co. Inc. in 
     Raleigh. Goodmon's grandfather, A.J. Fletcher, started the 
     company in 1939 to serve the community. Still a family-owned 
     enterprise, Capitol is a rarity in the rapidly consolidating 
     broadcast industry.
       So far, Goodmon has invested nearly $4 million to make 
     Capitol's WRAL the nation's first television station to 
     transmit television signals digitally. These high-definition 
     transmissions provide flawless pictures and ``surround'' 
     sound. WRAL-HD, the ``HD'' stands for high-definition, went 
     on the air in 1996. Goodmon is still charged by the potential 
     he sees in this medium. ``Not a day goes by that I'm not 
     amazed that we can send pictures through the air,'' he says.
       Capitol's other holdings include minor league baseball 
     teams in Durham, N.C., and Myrtle Beach, S.C., a satellite 
     communications firm, and office developments in downturn 
     Durham.
       But Goodmon's future includes a big role as community 
     cheerleader. A sports fan, Goodmon tirelessly cheers for the 
     Triangle. He is also president of his family's 50-year-old 
     philanthropic foundation--the A.J. Fletcher Foundation--and 
     is a chief promoter of Gov. Jim Hunt's Smart Start program 
     for preschool-aged children.
       ``If you want to make a difference in the future, what's 
     better than investing in kids?'' he asks.
       Despite his prominent role in the community, Goodmon likes 
     to work behind the scenes, says longtime friend Smedes York. 
     A former Raleigh mayor who has known Goodmon since high 
     school, York was also a member of the committee that tried to 
     lure the Special Olympics and Pan Am Games to the Triangle. 
     Goodmon is serious about this commitment to making things 
     happen, York says, and backs up his promises with resources.
       ``He'll pick up two or three key things and put his time 
     and resources into those,'' York says. ``He's not just 
     talking. He's putting up major money and people in his 
     organization he'll assign to work on these tasks.''
       Goodmon may have a preference for the background, but he is 
     a natural leader. For instance, he persuaded the owner of the 
     new Hurricanes hockey team to use the name ``Carolina'' 
     Hurricanes, not ``Raleigh'' Hurricanes.
       While others might wring hands, Goodmon acts, says 
     colleague Ben Waters. Waters

[[Page 1614]]

     should know. He is Capitol's vice president of administration 
     and often is responsible for getting Goodmon's projects off 
     the ground. One night in 1985, Waters recalls, Goodmon called 
     him and asked if he had seen a news show about Ethiopia's 
     starving children. Goodmon gave him a task.
       ``He said, `Find out how we can help them. We can't sit 
     back and not do anything,' '' Waters remembers. Although 
     Capitol was too late to aid Ethiopia, a program to funnel aid 
     through a religious organization to another famine hot spot 
     is ongoing.
       The son of Fletcher's only daughter, Goodmon's legacy as a 
     leader began at a young age. He was 12 years old when he took 
     his first job as a gravedigger at a cemetery owned by his 
     family. He earned 35 cents an hour. At age 13, he began his 
     career in broadcasting by working odd jobs at WRAL. By age 
     15, he ran a camera as a member of the television production 
     crew. U.S. Sen. Jesse Helms, R-N.C., one of Goodmon's 
     supervisors back then, remembers him well.
       ``I can see him now,'' Helms recalls of the young Goodmon. 
     ``I did a lot of evening work to catch up with my 
     correspondence and I'd see him every evening in that 
     engineering department. He could show some of our full-time 
     engineers how to do it.''
       The love of technology carried Goodmon to Duke University 
     where he studied engineering. But he left without a degree in 
     1965 to join the U.S. Navy. The technology bug stayed with 
     him.
       A serviceman stationed in Memphis, Tenn., Goodmon also 
     worked at a local television station. And it was in this city 
     that he met his wife, Barbara, on a blind date. They played 
     card games.
       ``Jim always said the reason he kept coming back to visit 
     was that we had a color TV,'' Barbara Goodmon laughs. He 
     often visited after he got off work at the television 
     station. But when it was time to go, she had to help him 
     start his car, an Austin Healy.
       ``The only way he could start it was to get underneath 
     it,'' she says. ``I would get under the hood and hold 
     something while he started it.''
       The couple is still a formidable team when it comes to 
     starting projects. As a member of the board of the Salvation 
     Army, the matriarch has rallied family members to serve in 
     soup kitchens and to participate in a variety of community 
     projects. Although the couple's work is now less hands-on, it 
     is more extensive. Their work with Healing Place is a prime 
     example. The facility plans to offer shelter and 
     rehabilitation services when it opens in November.
       Healing Place was boosted by the A.J. Fletcher Foundation, 
     which provided start-up office space and supplies. Capitol 
     paid an employee to act as the facility's director. And the 
     community ponied up $4.5 million for the project.
       Sowing the seeds of self-sufficiency is a hallmark of the 
     foundation, which now spends about $3.5 million a year to 
     help fund worthy North Carolina projects and fledgling 
     organizations. ``That's part of my future thing--getting 
     things started,'' says Goodmon.
       His energy appears limitless.
       ``He is up and down on the computer during the night with 
     ideas,'' his wife says. ``The people who work for him say, 
     `We know how much he's been doing according to how many e-
     mails he has sent.' ''
       That relentless pace took its toll on Goodmon and led to a 
     heart attack five years ago. He says the experience clarified 
     his vision and forced him to work more efficiently and 
     delegate better. Although always family-centered, he has a 
     renewed commitment to spending time with family members, 
     particularly his grandson, who is a toddler. He also watches 
     Durham Bulls baseball games and attends movies with his 
     family.
       Still, Goodmon's vision is in high definition as he plugs 
     his energy into projects that will make a difference 10 years 
     into the future. ``Things don't just happen right; things 
     don't just come out right by themselves,'' Goodmon says. 
     ``You have to work on it.''

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