April 7, 2007

Boss Tweed Railway

When writing about certain topics, I don’t intentionally set out to find something so much as having it find me. Likewise, I don’t find myself looking for news or issues that emanate from a particular location. While I have, quite a few times, found myself discussing asinine political issues in my home commonwealth of Pennsylvania, it’s not because I’ve set out to do so; it’s because asininity is running rampant here.

After writing about a potbellied pig story last week, in which a town council and local judge are in denial over the fact that there is another world outside their door, I had no idea that I would find myself commenting on another story from the same county.

Unfortunately, this story is much more serious than sheltered councilmen and pet pigs. It begins with ludicrous remarks by county commissioners to defend their questionable use of tax money, but ends with what can be called nothing other than intimidation against constituents who question their actions.

All Aboard
The saga began with a rather inconspicuous subject: an abandoned railroad building and the land on which it stood.

The building, which was recently torn down, was located in a village called Packerton, Carbon County, and was in use until the 1970s. From that time forward, however, the building became victimized by the elements, fell into a state of disrepair, and ultimately turned into an eyesore. The property was for sale for quite a few years, but for one reason or another—it could have been either the price or the possibility of petroleum-based pollution in the soil—no one wanted anything to do with it.

That is, no one until last year when two of the county’s three commissioners, William O’Gurek and Charles Getz, voted to have the county buy the land, saying that they were going to lure some kind of “high-paying industry” to the area. (No actual industry has ever been named.)

Derailed
The two elected officials, who were opposed by the third commissioner over the land purchase, quickly took the next step in their supposed goal of bringing an industry to the area: razing the railroad building. This is where things got interesting because when it was announced that the building would be ripped down, several people—most of whom didn’t seem to have any interest in the building for the 30 or so years that the property was available for sale—wanted the demolition stopped. They formed an organization called Save Packerton Yards and argued that the building was an historical site. As such, they argued that it should be saved from the wrecking ball, if not restored to its original state.

That wasn’t the commissioners’ only roadblock, though. It was discovered that O’Gurek and Getz had violated the United States National Historic and Preservation Act by not notifying the state Historical Museum Commission before the demolition was announced. The notification was required because the commissioners applied for and received $675,000 in federal and state tax money to use toward the land purchase. Whether they intentionally tried to hide the razing from the Historic Museum Commission or whether they’re just incompetent hick politicians has never been said, but either way, this is where the story took a brief detour into the Twilight Zone.

In an apparent effort to fix their standing with the Preservation Act and help their side of the argument, Commissioner Chairman O’Gurek finally filed a report with the Historical Museum Commission, but it wasn’t without oddities. In the letter, O’Gurek said that the railroad building was “being used for booze, drug and sex parties, satanic worshipping and harboring vagrants and vagabonds.” As such, he said, it should be razed as quickly as possible.

Local police said that they were aware of teenagers using the building as a drinking spot and vagrants living in tents on the edge of the property, but they had no knowledge of the structure being used for drug-fueled sex parties or Satanic rituals. When asked by a reporter for details on how he knew of these activities, O’Gurek wouldn’t comment. Given O’Gurek’s refusal to answer, it’s easy to assume that the commissioner had some kind of insider information on these illegal hedonistic orgies.

That aside, those opposed to the building’s destruction lost their case in court. The razing was to continue, but not without more controversy. The state Museum Commission asked for at least a delay in the building’s destruction so that they could take a look at the site to make a final decision on the structure’s historical worth. The commission had no legal authority to stop the demolition, though, and the razing continued. Rather conveniently, every staircase to the second floor was removed the day before the Historical Commission representatives had said that they were going to visit the property.

A third—or fourth or fifth, depending upon how you’re looking at it—brouhaha developed when a second court case arose. Save Packerton Yards accused the commissioners of violating Pennsylvania’s open-meetings law, leading to a lawsuit that was deemed “frivolous” by the majority commissioners. As we’ll come to find out, the commissioners didn’t take kindly to having their actions questioned by any of the county’s residents.

After the structure was completely torn down, you would have thought that the story would have ended. It would have seemed as if this would be where Commissioners O’Gurek and Getz would have begun luring all the industry that they had previously talked about when defending their decision to purchase otherwise worthless land. Instead, their next move was what appears to be state-sponsored revenge and intimidation.

Caught on the Tracks
Thomas A. Zimmerman IV, who founded Save Packerton Yards, soon found himself being sued by Carbon County—namely O’Gurek and Getz. The commissioners said that opposing them cost $10,405 in legal fees, and that they want Zimmerman to pay for the expenses. The amount was later reduced to $8,114 and the county’s special counsel referred to the challenges against the commissioners as an “abuse of the legal system.”

As of this writing, the judge in the trial is expected to rule on the case next week.

Next Stop: Ignoranceville
With respect to the initial argument, I would have been hard-pressed to take a side. In one corner we had an organization which claimed that it wanted to save a building from destruction, but none of its members had an interest in saving it throughout the 30 years that it was available for sale. Instead, they allowed it to deteriorate into a decrepit state—a state that, given the photos, wasn’t repairable.

In the other corner were two commissioners who helped promote the belief that the government is the be-all and end-all of job creation. They helped foster the belief that supply and demand was a conspiracy propagated by evil capitalists, and that if a county government wants to insulate itself from changes in both the national and global economy, it can somehow do so. They basically promoted the idea that market forces shouldn’t play a role in job growth.

Such an idea would probably be sold easily in rural Pennsylvania because basic economic theories aren’t embraced much here. Having grown up here, it’s quite common to see communities welcome the idea of cutting themselves off from the rest of the world in terms of economic factors. Even though service-sector jobs have replaced traditional blue-collar jobs everywhere else, some communities yearn for the old days. The old days are fun to wax nostalgic, but you can’t put a stop to evolution and progress.

Maybe these details aren’t a concern for this particular county, though, because their own website provides us with something that is quite telling: Before purchasing this 59-acre tract in the village of Packerton, Carbon County already had 635 acres of available “industrial” land at their Green Acres Industrial Park. If they already have 635 acres that aren’t being used, why buy another 59 with state and federal tax dollars? That’s not to mention that the Packerton land was exposed to pollution for close to 100 years.

Perhaps the irony here is that O’Gurek was recently quoted as saying, “We don’t want to be a land baron,” after the county took control of several parcels of barren land a few miles from Packerton due to delinquent taxes.

Last Stop: Intimidation Valley
For me, the most frightening part of this story is the recent lawsuit brought by the commissioners against the founder of the organization that opposed them. It reeks of intimidation because Commissioners O’Gurek and Getz have shown the citizens of that county that they’re willing to use litigation against anyone who opposes them. All the while, they can simply justify the lawsuits by saying that they’re trying to recoup legal fees. Again, their questionable moves are done under the guise of working “for the people.”

I took a look at the financial statistics of Carbon County using data that was compiled by the United States Census Bureau. As of 2003, the median household income in the county was $38,745 and the per capita income as of 1999 was $17,064 (both years being the most recent statistics available).

Since this county doesn’t have a wealthy population, it’s a safe bet that the people who live there wouldn’t be willing to challenge their elected officials if they knew that they’d face the possibility of shelling out attorney fees when the commissioners take them to court. What better way to keep the people silent? What better way to quell dissent?

I’m hoping that when the judge rules on this case, it will be against Commissioners O’Gurek and Getz. I don’t say that because I’m supporting their opponents; I have no vested interest in either side. I say it because I don’t want to see yet another situation where small-town politicians get a carte blanche and a green light to do anything that they want.

If that happens, the people of this particular county might find themselves with a diesel-powered political machine and a set of train tracks being built toward Tammany Hall.

References
The Morning Call
The Morning Call
The Morning Call
The Morning Call
Carbon County Economic Development Office
United States Census Bureau