Here's The Story As To Why The Middletown Police Needed To Respond To An OPRA Inquiry At The Middletown Sewerage Authority

I stated Friday that Linda Baum would follow-up with the details about what happened to her earlier in the day when she visited the Township of Middletown Sewerage Authority (TOMSA), to pick up a package that contained information that she had requested through an open public records (OPRA) request. Her version of the event is more informative but  just as amusing, more so even, than what I posted. It is also a little disturbing to know that Middletown's governing body sanctions this type of behavior from an authority that it created and which is run by one of their own, former mayor Patrick Parkinson.  Parkinson and TOMSA are in clear violation of the law here and should be reprimanded by the township (MM).

  

by guest blogger Linda Baum

In a post last Friday night, Mike couldn’t resist telling everyone about my interesting experience earlier that day at TOMSA.  Here’s the story:

I got a call this week from TOMSA telling me that my OPRA request was ready for pick-up and would be $21.35.  That sounded way too high for what I asked for, and I told them I suspected the reports were run incorrectly since, at 5 or 7 cents a page, there were hundreds more pages than there should be.  I was told that the reports were the same format as the one I requested previously that was 92 pages.  I said the previous report I received was only 8 pages.  (As an aside, I received a mysterious check of about $5 in the mail from TOMSA a couple of months ago that I now realize may have been a refund for the extra 84 pages I wasn’t provided.)

I tried to get someone to discuss the reports over the phone so I could get a better handle on the matter, but the office employees aren’t allowed to open the sealed envelope, let alone discuss the contents.  Only executive director Pat Parkinson can do that, and he doesn’t take my calls or reply to my emails.

If it’s just a matter of paying for and picking up materials, usually I would ask a friend who is home during the day to help me out.  But this was different.  I didn’t want to put someone else in the awkward position of having to review the documents or discuss the matter on my behalf.  It wasn’t just about the money – I wanted to make sure I was getting the information I had requested.  Also, remember that Parkinson doesn’t take my calls, so if someone else had picked up the package for me and I had questions, I would have had to ask in person, anyway.  Parkinson is always saying at Board meetings, after refusing to answer any questions there, that he is happy to respond during regular business hours.  So I took the afternoon off from work, which stung a little because like most people I prefer to use my vacation time in better ways.

Since I discussed my concerns over the phone, and since I was not told otherwise, I was under the impression that I would be allowed to review the material before paying for it.  But that was not the case.   I was told I had to pay first.   I asked if I would get a refund if I handed back 300 pages after opening the envelope.  Per the employee I was speaking to, the reply from Parkinson was basically, “It’s yours.”  I said that it was unfair to charge me for something I didn’t ask for and that using that logic, Parkinson could copy anything in the office and stick it in an envelope with a price on it, whether it responded to my request or not.

Throughout my conversation with the office staffer, she went back and forth to Parkinson’s office multiple times to relay my questions and his replies.  Parkinson never stepped out.

Left with few options, I paid the money, then promptly opened the envelope and spent about 5 or 10 minutes reviewing the reports right there at the counter.  While not what I had originally wanted, the reports would suit my purposes and contained some extra information that I felt was useful, so I decided to keep them, but had one question about what had been provided.  I had asked for a summary-level report by year for each of several years, which would reasonably mean one report per year.  However, there were two report runs for each year, which means I will have to manually add figures from both reports.  I felt I could live with that for now, but wanted to know why there were two reports so that I could properly word OPRA requests in the future to get the correct single report run.

Once again, the girl behind the counter had to go into Parkinson’s office to ask.  She didn’t have an answer when she came back.  I asked if I could speak directly to Mr. Parkinson, but she said that he was busy, or on the phone, or both.  I said, “I’ll wait.”  In truth, I knew it wouldn’t do much good, but I figured there was no harm in wasting more time there since I’d already wasted time having to go there in the first place.  It was about 3:30 and TOMSA was closing in an hour.  I figured Parkinson would be finished for the day at some point soon, and I could catch him then.  Remember, I had no other way to get my questions answered.

While I was waiting, I asked the office employee if she would make a copy of the report I brought with me – from the previous OPRA request – so that Mr. Parkinson could see the report I was looking for and would have it for future reference.  I said she didn’t need to copy all 8 pages, just the first page so he could see the report format.  Again, she went into Parkinson’s office and told me when she came out that she couldn’t make any copies.  I said, a little incredulous, “It’s one page, and it’s not for me, it’s for him.”  She still couldn’t.

Shortly thereafter, Parkinson emerged from his office and headed past me to the front entrance.  As he was passing, I asked him if I could ask a question about the reports.  He ignored me and walked out.  I watched him go and only then noticed the police outside through the glass entryway.  It took me a second to realize he’d called them, and then I said out loud what I was thinking, “Are they here for me??”

Parkinson came back in with the two police officers and told me he wanted me to leave, saying I had been there for a half hour and was interfering with work productivity.  I said, “Do you realize that if you’d just answered my question, I would have been gone a long time ago?  Is there anyone else I can ask?  You ran the reports, didn’t you?”   He didn’t respond, except to say this wasn’t the proper time, or something like that.  I asked, “When is the right time?  If I email my question, will you respond?”  He didn’t answer, just repeated, “I want you to leave, now.”  “Aren’t you the person who handles OPRA requests?,” I asked, my point being that he is the records custodian and it is part of his job to respond to questions about document requests.

The two policemen had been quiet during that exchange, but finally said that I would have to leave.  Exasperated, I walked out with them.  It was a lovely spring day, and since Mr. Parkinson was kind enough to send me two nice-looking credible witnesses, I chatted with them in the parking lot.  I vented a little, providing them some of the above details.  Officers Chris Clark and Carl Roth were very polite, even understanding.  Officer Clark suggested I seek assistance from the Township.  I smiled and said, “That’s been tried. They will say this is an independent authority and they don’t get involved.”  Someone later pointed out to me the irony of his comment – that is, the police represent the Township.