Venice
on the web
A semi-regular
column
Count the cost
Police
supervisors finally get their raise; city claims FAA investigation is over, FAA says otherwise
-- John Patten, 05/20/03,
revised 05/21/03
--
jpatten@veniceflorida.com
Got a comment? Make
it here.
Related:
FAA/city decision pending
-- celebration of end of dispute
with FAA might be just a tad
premature
-- Venice Gondolier Sun,
05/21/03
Flying lessons -- Venice should
learn from bumpy ride with FAA
-- editorial,
Sarasota Herald-Tribune, 05/20/03
Venice, FAA agree on golf course lease
--
Sarasota Herald-Tribune, 05/17/03
The cops get their due, sort of,
finally
The city council meeting on May 13th was a strange affair. The meetings of
late had become increasingly tense, an almost unspoken warlike atmosphere that
could be sensed more than seen. Even this meeting was tense on the surface -- a
good eight or nine police officers, including several high rankers, roamed the
tiny auditorium with furtive looks at the crowd. Granted, council was scheduled
to make a final vote to approve the raises for police supervisors, but it was
still a seemingly unwarranted heavy police presence.
The police supervisor raise was
supposed to be a downhill coast. Pete Walker, a lieutenant in the Venice Police Department, had
made an impassioned and logical case for the raise in a
piece that had been published in the Gondolier a month or so back (article not
available online). Walker is a cop's cop - he's a big guy with a booming voice and a slight southern drawl that belies a quick,
decisive mind and a deep sense of fairness. Walker is no showboater though, so
his name making an appearance in the Gondolier in an op/ed byline was
uncharacteristic and highly
surprising; it lent a deep credibility to the cause of bringing local
police pay up to state standards. After the piece was published, it didn't seem
remotely possible that council could turn down the requested pay hike,
especially considering that the raise being voted on still didn't bring the
supervisory pay inline with state norms.
One thing Walker didn't mention in
his article, but that is key to the entire debate, is that the city
has its own pension plan that doesn't participate in the state program. The net
effect is that our police, and every other city employee for that matter, are economic hostages to the whims of council -- if
city employees don't like the pay, they really can't go anywhere else without losing their
vested years in service. It's a rusty and dull two-edged sword: the same pension
setup also means that the city can't lure away desirable and qualified
candidates from other governmental agencies within the state, as new hires here
will lose their vested time in the state system that the state and most other
municipalities and counties participate in.
"You think you might not get the
vote?" I asked Deputy Chief Dan McGoogan, who was seated at a table in the rear
of the auditorium.
"I hope we get it," he replied, low
and apprehensively.
When the vote came up, the pay hike
passed 6-1, with Burt Brown casting the lone dissenting vote. Brown, in a rant
that came across as mean-spirited and
cantankerous, decried the fact that with the raise, supervisors would still
be eligible for yet other increases in the form of overtime. Seemingly
advocating slave labor, Brown sputtered and frothed at the thought of additional
recompense for additional hours beyond a 40-hour work week. I hope he never
needs the cops in an emergency: the good will he engendered practically
guaranteed a two-day response time.
Behind closed doors
And that was about it
on the excitement scale. Council broke for yet another "shade meeting," a
behind-closed-doors affair under the umbrella of attorney/client privilege to
discuss the FAA investigation with the city
attorney, leaving the auditorium in the hands of the rabble. The police numbers
dwindled, the crowd, what there was of it anyway, dispersed, and a handful
remained to see who would say what after the shade meeting.
Taxpayer League prez
Herb Levine milled around and then engaged in an animated conversation with
Maxine Barrett about her Save The Beach activities. VGA attorney Jeff Boone
wandered in and out of council chambers, a cell phone affixed to the side of his
head. Earle Kimel of the Herald-Trib hunched over a laptop and furiously tapped
away, waving away any would-be distractions without looking up in a reasonable
impersonation of the cartoon character Dogbert -- "Not now, I'm on deadline." The Gondolier's Pat Horwell
and I killed time by having a lengthy conversation about the positive changes in
city government that had taken place recently due to the influence of frosh
councilman (and retired judge) John Moore.
Some 45 minutes or so later, the shade meeting was
finally over
and council filed back in to formally conclude the city council session. Mayor Dean Calamaras led the pack into the hall. Calamaras did not look happy. A
bit flushed and with sweat on his brow that he was wiping off with his hand, he
had the appearance of a deeply concerned man. His eyes connected with mine and
he realized he was back in public view. His facial demeanor changed instantly,
he tugged at the lapels of his suit to straighten the shoulder line and suddenly
he was the jovial appearing mayor that we normally see. Councilman Jim Myers and
City Manager George Hunt entered together, both looking gaunt and ashen as though they had
just been told of a death in the family. Moore and the city's attorney, Bob Anderson, followed,
conversing cheerfully. The rest of council filed in and took their seats in a
quiet and somber processional.
I found myself standing in the
aisle, frozen in fascination at this solemn display. Levine had somehow
materialized next to me. He was also taken in by the sudden quiet mood change in
the room.
"What do you make of that?" I asked
Levine, who had also been studying their faces for hints of what had happened in
the shade meeting.
"I dunno, but whatever happened,
George sure didn't like it."
That much was obvious. Hunt silently
climbed into his chair on the raised dais, leaned back and stared at the ceiling, his jaw
clenched and his lips pursed in a seeming mixture of hostility and resignation.
"Moore looks upbeat," I noted.
"Yeah, but it's not his butt on the
line. He wasn't in office when this FAA mess with the VGA [Venice Golf
Association] started. Something major has just happened, and there's a few folks
up there who aren't happy."
The investigation is closed open
closed open
The public would have
to wait a
few days to find out exactly what had happened. Phone calls to the FAA in
Washington on Thursday and Friday revealed only one thing -- that the
investigation was still ongoing and that the city had yet to respond in writing
as required.
The news of the content of the shade
meeting hit the ground running on Friday afternoon. In e-mailed press releases to the Gondolier and
the Herald-Trib, the city announced, seemingly unbelievably, that things had
finally smoothed over with the FAA. During the shade meeting on Tuesday,
Anderson had reportedly advised council of a tentative agreement that could be struck with
the FAA, and council agreed to make the appropriate overtures. Now on Friday,
the city was formally announcing that it had decided, with the Papal blessing of the
FAA, to charge an annual
increase of $20,000 in rent to the VGA, bringing per-annum rent up to $180,000.
According to the city, this effectively ended the investigation that the FAA had
formally launched, an investigation that included charges of unlawful diversion
of funds from the airport into the private coffers of the VGA.
If the VGA doesn't accept the deal,
the city is in a bit of a bind. The city would then have the option of paying
the additional $20,000 to the airport in order to keep the FAA happy or they can
battle it out with the VGA in court. Neither option is particularly appealing,
but the city is posturing in anticipation, stating that if the VGA doesn't
accept the deal, off to court we will go. It is doubtful that the VGA would risk
court intervention, a process that might cause them to fully disclose their
ownership, their list of shareholders. Such a disclosure is something that the VGA has gone to great pains to
hide from public view.
The news release on Friday did two
things. Since the Gondolier only publishes on Wednesdays and Saturdays, it
effectively prevented the daily Herald-Trib from scooping the Gondolier. It also
caused a mad scramble for local reporters as they tried to get confirmation info
from the FAA in Washington before the agency's offices closed up shop for the
weekend.
Follow-up calls to city officials and the FAA
on Monday revealed somewhat the same story as the city had pitched.
Somewhat.
The FAA, through press officer
Marcia Adams, revealed that there have been some new, positive talks with the
city, however she reiterated that the city has yet to respond in writing as required in the original
Notice of Investigation issued last November.
In sharp contrast to the city's
statements that the FAA investigation was effectively over, Adams firmly stated
that the investigation remains very much open.
All follow-up questions after that
were consistently answered by Adams with, "I cannot comment on that at this
time."
"OK, so the city sees to it that the
airport gets $180,000 a year for the VGA rent, and they then satisfactorily
respond to the NOI [Notice of Investigation] in writing as required. That would
end the investigation?"
"I cannot comment on that at this
time," Adams replied.
Which is technically true. According to agency
rules, she can't. Not while
the investigation remains open. Adams wasn't being rude, she just wasn't
coughing up the info I wanted.
I wormed around with a few other
questions trying to find a crack in the armor, but Adams held her ground. Hey,
sometimes you get lucky, sometimes you don't.
Still, the firmness of the
statement that the investigation remains open combined with the impressions
gathered from looking at the faces of the shade meeting participants as they
reentered council chambers on Tuesday leads me to believe that this story isn't
over quite yet.
Deals gone south
For one thing, the
fact that the FAA was acknowledging a new positive tone was a bit enlightening.
This new positive tone, after more than two solid years of bruising ugliness, comes as
George Hunt is being squeezed out of city/FAA dealings. Hunt himself stated a
few weeks back that it would be better if he didn't participate in negotiations
with the FAA anymore as there was a personality conflict. Instead, the mayor,
the city attorney, Public Works head Larry Heath and Deputy City Manager Marty Black all traveled to Washington
to undue the damage that Hunt had caused. Even worse: it was damage that Hunt caused
and then tried to hide from council and the public.
More recently, Hunt's
lease renegotiations with Sharky's Restaurant, which is situated on airport
land, went spiraling earthward with both wings blazing as Councilman Moore
discovered that the original lease has blank
spaces where the dollar amounts are supposed to be.
That was immediately followed by
Bogey's Restaurant owner Steve Harner
getting a council and media hotfoot for negotiating with Hunt to get an
early entry into grabbing a lease for airport land along the intracoastal
waterway. Harner had worked with Hunt's office in preparing his plans at a
time when council had yet to publicly invite bidders for land use at the
location. Again, Hunt was okaying and supporting a deal that council put a hasty
kibosh on, one that the FAA would likely never have approved anyway due to planned
condominiums in a land area that the FAA would rather not have condominiums
placed.
So these new positive negotiations
that the FAA acknowledged, combined with information gleaned from city sources
and statements from Hunt himself,
sends a clear message: Hunt couldn't get approval from the FAA for a Cessna to
land at the Venice Airport. He probably couldn't even get approval for the
installation of a candy bar vending machine. In any future dealings with
the FAA, Hunt is obsolete, a non-entity.
That would explain Hunt's surly demeanor
immediately following the shade meeting on Tuesday. It also explains
the somber expressions seen on the faces of the mayor and council -- they have a problem,
a serious one. They have a city manager who now can no longer reasonably perform
a significant portion of his normal job functions. Any future dealings with the FAA
now have to be done by doing an end run around Hunt or they risk the possibility
of bringing the wrath of the FAA onto the city again.
Count the cost
Still up in the air is whether the
raise in rent is retroactive to the signing of the current lease or if the bump
starts when the formal agreements are all finally hammered out. It seems that
nobody at city hall ever thought to ask that of the FAA, it was glossed over in the new FAA
negotiations.
After all is said and
done, what did we get? An increase in rent of $20,000 per year and a legal bill
for $75,000 (according to the Gondolier) for this latest round. Add in the costs
of sending our crew to Washington, the $10,000 we futilely spent on lobbyists
and prior legal fees and it's a good bet that we have spent $125,000, maybe more,
to fight a battle on behalf of the VGA, a battle that the VGA should have waged
on its own.
Uh huh, oh yeah, its a battle that the city
should not have ever had to fight or bear the burden of. The VGA should have
been waging this fight on its own, not the city on behalf of the VGA. The city
should have told the VGA way back when: "This is what the FAA wants, this is
what we're gonna do to make the FAA happy, feel free to take on the FAA on your
own if you don't agree, and let us know how it goes."
Instead, the city took on the job of
advocate for the VGA, defending a dollar amount in the lease that even Gondolier publisher and
occasional council cheerleader Bob Vedder referred to as "too low." The
unenviable job of advocate for the local citizenry was handed by default to
local political activists like Maxine Barrett and Herb Levine. Barrett
flourished in the limelight, coming out of nowhere to become a local hero, while
Levine was treated to an involuntary tour of our county's fine correctional
facilities courtesy of former Public Safety Director Joe Slapp and the county's
Heels On Wheels prisoner transport van.
I don't golf. I don't like the game
at all, it's always seemed profoundly slow and boring. I've played it, I'm not
terrible, but I just don't like the game. I'm much happier in a pickup game on a
city basketball court if I want to play a game of ball-in-the-hole. I'm getting
old and slow, I've always been short, but I'm still quite enthusiastic. The city
basketball courts have never had the stain of scandal, so if and when I play
again, I'll do it for the sheer joy of the game. Even if I were to somehow come
to enjoy golf, I'd never have the same sheer joy after all of this. I certainly
wouldn't have it if I played the VGA course, not after all the hell they and
George Hunt have put this city through.
John
Patten is the head of Web Operations for Creative
Pages, and has worked in broadcasting for over 12 years. He can also
be incredibly rude at times.