Here Comes Trouble - Michael Moore [107]
I also filed a lawsuit against the board. They couldn’t believe what was hitting them. At the next meeting they backed down and quietly withdrew their rule to prohibit recording devices.
Upon passage of the motion, I hit Record. They wanted to hit me.
All but one board member would now keep their swivel chairs turned away from me. They avoided eye contact or any conversation with me. I was the snitch, and they had reached their boiling point.
The next few meetings went by with little or no fanfare, and business was decided quickly and smoothly, without much discussion. It was quiet. Too quiet. Something didn’t seem right.
About this time, one of the board members referred to something one of the others had said at the “previous meeting.” But I was at the previous meeting—and thanks to the wonders of magnetic cassette tape, there was nothing of the like said at that last meeting. After the meeting, I approached the one friendly board member who was still talking to me. I asked him what this issue was that they discussed.
He sighed. “We’ve been holding meetings and not telling you,” he said apologetically. “It’s not right and I’m not going to any more of them. I’ve told them we should stop.”
I was floored. Secret board of education meetings were being held behind my back? He said they had met at the president’s house so that no one would know.
I went home, my head in a fog. There was no Internet in those days, so I had no way to look up “How to Make a Citizen’s Arrest.” The next day I drove down to the county prosecutor’s office and told him what happened. He blew his top.
“Those fucking bastards! I’ve had it with them. I’m throwing ’em all in jail!”
I considered asking him if he could say that one more time, just for my own pleasure.
“Kenny,” he said shouting over to his assistant prosecutor, “call the radio and TV stations. We’re bringing criminal charges against the members of the Davison Board of Education!”
And he meant it. And he did. It was only a misdemeanor, but still, he told the media that he was issuing warrants for their arrests. In case they preferred jail time to working with me, he also filed suit to make sure they would comply with state law requiring open meetings. Prosecutor Leonard had had it after the numerous violations of church/state separation, banning tape recorders at public meetings, and now this.
“They’re recidivists!” the prosecutor told the local radio station. “They keep breaking the law—and I don’t know any other way to get their attention.”
The news shook the little Republican town—and the lawbreaking school board president immediately met with the prosecutor and signed an agreement to never ever do it again.
“You brought this on yourself,” an unrepentant Mrs. Ude told me before the next meeting. “It was your behavior that forced us to meet without you. What makes you think that we would want you at our meetings?”
“They aren’t your meetings,” I said to her. “These meetings belong to the citizens of this district! And they elected me to represent them. And when you hold secret meetings and don’t inform me, you take away those people’s right to be there.”
“Oh, you!” was all she could say, and walked away.
A few months later, I noticed the school district was handing out contracts for services and construction without taking competitive bids.
“It’s illegal not to do it,” I said, using their favorite “I” word. “State law requires us to have competitive bidding that’s fair for all concerned and will get the best price for the school district.” I sat and wondered why was I having to give people who claimed they loved capitalism and free enterprise a lesson in the competitive marketplace being a good idea for all. But they ignored me, saying it was impractical and unnecessary.
A few days later I set up an appointment with the state attorney general’s office and drove down to Lansing to