Last month I did some sleuthing. Okay, not actual sleuthing, but I participated in a nationwide survey, designed to test the openness of local government and it was a little sneaky, until, of course, I identified myself.
It’s Sunshine Week - the week set aside each year to shed light on the inner workings of local government. As part of sunshine week, I performed an audit that other reporters, students and league of women voter reps were doing all across the country during the first few weeks of February. The results were somewhat astounding. (Keep reading, I promise that it’s interesting…)
I walked into the Emergency Management Division Office (located on Raisinville Rd. with the Extension Office) and asked, without identifying who I was, for the comprehensive emergency response plan - or CERP. The county is required to have one and to update it each year. The CERP holds the keys to how the county - including the public - is supposed to react to any kind of trouble that may hit. It has evacuation routes, where chemicals are stored, how emergency responders carry on, etc.
When first given the assignment, my editor handed over the paperwork and said it probably wasn’t a big deal, they’d hand it over on a disc or in a binder and then we’d go on our merry way. But when I went in there, it was a different story.
The person at the front desk asked - “And you are?” I told her I was a concerned citizen. She said she would have to get her boss, who was Glenda White, assistant director. When speaking with Glenda, I had to ID myself as a reporter because ethically I felt I had to and I’ve worked with her before. She said it was different then. (Just as a side note - when requesting information, it doesn’t matter who you are or what your intent is. The only time that should enter the equation is if you FOIA something and ask that the fee be waived or that the request be sped up because it’s in the interest of the public.)
From there, we went back and forth. I quoted the law - the Freedom of Information Act as well as the Community Right-To-Know Act of 1986. I was told under those laws that all I could get were Tier II Reports - the sheets that companies and farmers within the community have to fill out if they are storing or using harmful chemicals.
Glenda said a few different things as why I or the public couldn’t see the plan.
Here’s what happened, from my notes:
“She told me, ‘It’s not for public view’ and that I was misleading by saying I was a concerned citizen because I work for the newspaper. I again stressed that I was a resident of the county. She said as a newspaper we would have a duty not to print negative information, and then rephrased to say that we would not be able to print the plan in its entirety and they wanted to avoid any misunderstandings. She also said that the average person coming in to look at the plan wouldn’t understand the entire thing, so they were concerned with having someone misinterpret the information.
I said the EMD is a public office, funded by public dollars, so by rights, the plan was public, right? I also pointed out that we can’t control how someone reads something and that even if they’re a specialist there is room for miscommunication.
Glenda seemed to become agitated and asked me, “what’s our role?” She answered that the EMD was there to protect and maintain the safety of the community. I agreed and said that was why I was interested in the plan – I wanted to see how they do that and asked if it wasn’t a citizen right to keep the office accountable. She said they report to several levels of government that keep watch over what they do. She said they wanted an informed public, but the information could be used in a dangerous manner, that the motives of those out there may not be good.
“There are some things we just don’t want the public to know,” she said. I told her I was looking for where chemicals were stored in different facilities and also was looking for how the county would respond if there were an emergency. She said that they could not reveal that because it would expose responders to harm.
She also told me that if I were to look at parts of the plan – which she wasn’t sure I could do and would check – but if I were, then Mitch and her would have to see a copy of the story before it went to print and would have final say in what information could be included in the article.”
I also tried to submit a handwritten request for the info. At first she wouldn’t take it because it was written on a piece of paper (also as a side note - a request can technically be presented in any form - email, written, typed, verbal, etc.). I tried a few times to hand it to her. She told me to submit a formal request to Vickie Koczman, with the county. Usually when submitting an information request, it goes directly to the department responsible for creating it. For instance, if I wanted a sanitation report on a restaurant, I would send the request to the health department - not the county.
The handwritten note referred to the FOIA and the Right to Know Act of 1986. I told her to consider that my formal request and agreed to email Vickie. Essentially I left the office without any information, aside from I couldn’t have the report in its entirety and I would have to wait to find out what I could have.
Look for Part II later to find out what happened. (Mostly because this is a really long post, but also to create some suspense.)
In 1996, Ray Bradbury published a collection of 21 short stories called “Quicker than the Eye.” It was his first new collection of short stories in almost 10 years. Although he had written them over the course of his career, none of the stories had been printed until 1994 and most were now in their first publication.
