II: New records law seems to bring change in attitudes
EDITOR'S NOTE — This is the second installment in a three-part series on Pennsylvania's new Right-to-Know Law.
By MARK SCOLFORO | Associated Press Writer
HARRISBURG, Pa. (AP) — A new test of how government agencies respond to records requests shows that a year after Pennsylvania's revamped Right-to-Know Law took effect, it may be transforming attitudes among public officials about the public documents and information under their control.
Over two days this fall, reporters and others from 33 Pennsylvania newspapers, a TV station, and a community college journalism class filed 274 requests for public records from police agencies, local government offices and school districts in an audit coordinated by The Associated Press.
The auditors drove nearly 5,000 miles, took copious notes and paid $335 in copying fees to see how agencies responded when people showed up at random to seek information.
About one in seven requests failed entirely, compared to nearly one in three during similar coordinated surveys conducted by Pennsylvania news organizations in 1999 and 2005.
Although the three audits involved different records, different laws and different methods — making a true numerical comparison impossible — they revealed clear patterns.
Kim de Bourbon, executive director of the Pennsylvania Freedom of Information Coalition, a nonprofit organization that advocates to help people get access to public information, said the survey showed some barriers to access remain in place.
"Just because we have this complex new law, I don't think it has opened the hearts and minds of those who are entrenched in government secrecy," she said.
The auditors were instructed to request grant applications, 911 logs, police blotters, school superintendent contracts and job applications or resumes of public employees.
One similarity from past surveys was that some government officials, even those who produced the records, peppered requesters with questions about who they were, where they worked and why they wanted records.
The experiences of auditors provided some lessons for people who plan to seek records.
One requester was handed a $151 bill before he realized the scope of what he was getting, a reminder that requesters can ask to examine the records before they order any copies. Employees at another office refused to mail the records, even though the state's Office of Open Records has ruled that agencies must do so if asked.
The easiest of the five record categories to obtain proved to be copies of a school superintendent's contract, which were fully provided in 64 of 65 instances.
Five years ago the success rate for the same document was barely 50 percent, and some superintendents expressed surprise that their contracts were public records. It probably helped that the Altoona Mirror, in a 2007 reporting project, posted many superintendent contracts on its Web site.
Thirty-two of 46 police agencies provided full or partial access to their blotter — a log of their calls over a recent 24-hour period — meaning 30 percent offered nothing. In the 2005 survey, the failure rate was about 40 percent.
The state's Criminal History Record Information Law says blotters are public records, although questions remain about exactly what qualifies as a blotter. Appeals-court decisions have defined it as "the equivalent of incident reports" and "a type of chronological compilation of original records of entry."
When a reporter from The Morning Call of Allentown showed up at the Nazareth Police Department and requested a blotter, he had to produce photo identification three times, provide the name and number of his supervisor and was repeatedly asked to explain why he wanted the information — even though the law specifically bars agencies from forcing someone to reveal how they will use records.
The reporter, Kevin Amerman, walked away empty-handed.
"We don't show that," Chief Thomas Trachta told him. "We don't just open our books like that."
Trachta said later he was suspicious of Amerman's request, but as a result of the exchange subsequently adopted a policy to post a blotter with basic information at the front desk.
The new law specifically allows access to "time response logs" from emergency dispatch centers.
Surveyors succeeded in obtaining the logs in 20 of 37 attempts, and in six other cases recorded partial access ranging from a log without callers' names to a 50-page printout that was essentially incomprehensible.
Pennsylvania Newspaper Association lawyer Melissa Bevan Melewsky said 911 time logs are not defined in the new law, and cases to establish such a definition are still working their way through the courts. Some emergency centers told requesters they were watching those cases before deciding how much to disclose.
Several departments that provided 911 logs listed only the nearest intersection, not the precise location of the call.
In a closely watched case, a York County judge recently ruled against the York Daily Record/Sunday News and said the law only requires that officials disclose when a call comes in and when the responder is contacted, leaves for the scene, gets to the scene and clears the scene.
"The counties don't want to give any geographical indicators or addresses," Melewsky said. "Without the address, the time response log is useless."
Requesters had more success in getting copies of recent grant applications — 64 of 71 requests were fulfilled. Five were completely ignored. One government office said they did not have a list, so grants would have to be requested by name, and another said the only person who could handle the request was on vacation.
The survey also sought the applications or resumes of 55 government workers — the law specifically prevents access to job applications only if the person does not get hired. Thirty-four were fully provided and 12 were partially provided.
On a few occasions, the person whose resume was being sought confronted the requester or their news organization about the purpose of the request.
"There's nothing in the law to say a municipality can't let somebody know (that) somebody's asking for their resume," de Bourbon said. "But it's certainly kind of a chilling effect, isn't it? It just kind of speaks to the whole attitudinal problem."
In West York, borough manager Kathy Altland said she would not release the public works director's job application because it contained confidential personal information.
"I said I could white it out, but there's not much left of it then," Altland said in a later interview.
A surveyor looking for a coach's application and resume reported that a Bethlehem School District receptionist told her, "You can't just come in and ask for that." The district's records officer then told her it was against their policy to release any information from personnel files, the surveyor said.
At Loyalsock Township School District in Montoursville, district office secretary Cheri King said the resume of the acting superintendent could not be released because it was not part of the school board's official minutes.
King later said that decision may not have been the last word.
"We normally do not give out personal resumes, but if someone were to ask for it on a right-to-know form we would clarify it with our solicitor," King said.
There were many examples of public officials who were unhelpful — requesters described individuals as "cold," ''incredulous and borderline hostile," ''very suspicious" and "a bit snippy and put out as if I was wasting her time."
But there also were many examples of requests that went smoothly, with government workers responding quickly and in full compliance with the law, exhibiting courtesy and sometimes going beyond the call of duty.
The Pottsville Area School District provided, at no cost, 13 pages regarding a school principal: his job application, resume, child-abuse history clearance, letter of interest in the position, professional certifications and criminal-background check.
In Silver Spring Township outside Mechanicsburg, the township manager went so far as to dig up his job application from 1983, and in Manheim Township near Hanover, the township manager offered to make a copy of his own resume from his home computer when he could not find one within the office's files.
In Slippery Rock, the borough secretary not only provided the records, but called a Butler Eagle reporter later to tell her she had left a scarf behind.
And South Williamsport police secretary Charlene Horton was "pleasant and efficient," wrote Sun-Gazette reporter Mark Maroney.
"Not only did Horton provide the police blotter, she asked me if I wanted a monthly, weekly or daily blotter report," he wrote.
And she didn't ask his name or why he wanted the public record.
By MARK SCOLFORO | Associated Press Writer
HARRISBURG, Pa. (AP) — A new test of how government agencies respond to records requests shows that a year after Pennsylvania's revamped Right-to-Know Law took effect, it may be transforming attitudes among public officials about the public documents and information under their control.
Over two days this fall, reporters and others from 33 Pennsylvania newspapers, a TV station, and a community college journalism class filed 274 requests for public records from police agencies, local government offices and school districts in an audit coordinated by The Associated Press.
The auditors drove nearly 5,000 miles, took copious notes and paid $335 in copying fees to see how agencies responded when people showed up at random to seek information.
About one in seven requests failed entirely, compared to nearly one in three during similar coordinated surveys conducted by Pennsylvania news organizations in 1999 and 2005.
Although the three audits involved different records, different laws and different methods — making a true numerical comparison impossible — they revealed clear patterns.
"Just because we have this complex new law, I don't think it has opened the hearts and minds of those who are entrenched in government secrecy," she said.
The auditors were instructed to request grant applications, 911 logs, police blotters, school superintendent contracts and job applications or resumes of public employees.
One similarity from past surveys was that some government officials, even those who produced the records, peppered requesters with questions about who they were, where they worked and why they wanted records.
The experiences of auditors provided some lessons for people who plan to seek records.
One requester was handed a $151 bill before he realized the scope of what he was getting, a reminder that requesters can ask to examine the records before they order any copies. Employees at another office refused to mail the records, even though the state's Office of Open Records has ruled that agencies must do so if asked.
The easiest of the five record categories to obtain proved to be copies of a school superintendent's contract, which were fully provided in 64 of 65 instances.
Five years ago the success rate for the same document was barely 50 percent, and some superintendents expressed surprise that their contracts were public records. It probably helped that the Altoona Mirror, in a 2007 reporting project, posted many superintendent contracts on its Web site.
Thirty-two of 46 police agencies provided full or partial access to their blotter — a log of their calls over a recent 24-hour period — meaning 30 percent offered nothing. In the 2005 survey, the failure rate was about 40 percent.
The state's Criminal History Record Information Law says blotters are public records, although questions remain about exactly what qualifies as a blotter. Appeals-court decisions have defined it as "the equivalent of incident reports" and "a type of chronological compilation of original records of entry."
When a reporter from The Morning Call of Allentown showed up at the Nazareth Police Department and requested a blotter, he had to produce photo identification three times, provide the name and number of his supervisor and was repeatedly asked to explain why he wanted the information — even though the law specifically bars agencies from forcing someone to reveal how they will use records.
The reporter, Kevin Amerman, walked away empty-handed.
Trachta said later he was suspicious of Amerman's request, but as a result of the exchange subsequently adopted a policy to post a blotter with basic information at the front desk.
The new law specifically allows access to "time response logs" from emergency dispatch centers.
Surveyors succeeded in obtaining the logs in 20 of 37 attempts, and in six other cases recorded partial access ranging from a log without callers' names to a 50-page printout that was essentially incomprehensible.
Pennsylvania Newspaper Association lawyer Melissa Bevan Melewsky said 911 time logs are not defined in the new law, and cases to establish such a definition are still working their way through the courts. Some emergency centers told requesters they were watching those cases before deciding how much to disclose.
Several departments that provided 911 logs listed only the nearest intersection, not the precise location of the call.
In a closely watched case, a York County judge recently ruled against the York Daily Record/Sunday News and said the law only requires that officials disclose when a call comes in and when the responder is contacted, leaves for the scene, gets to the scene and clears the scene.
"The counties don't want to give any geographical indicators or addresses," Melewsky said. "Without the address, the time response log is useless."
Requesters had more success in getting copies of recent grant applications — 64 of 71 requests were fulfilled. Five were completely ignored. One government office said they did not have a list, so grants would have to be requested by name, and another said the only person who could handle the request was on vacation.
The survey also sought the applications or resumes of 55 government workers — the law specifically prevents access to job applications only if the person does not get hired. Thirty-four were fully provided and 12 were partially provided.
On a few occasions, the person whose resume was being sought confronted the requester or their news organization about the purpose of the request.
"There's nothing in the law to say a municipality can't let somebody know (that) somebody's asking for their resume," de Bourbon said. "But it's certainly kind of a chilling effect, isn't it? It just kind of speaks to the whole attitudinal problem."
In West York, borough manager Kathy Altland said she would not release the public works director's job application because it contained confidential personal information.
"I said I could white it out, but there's not much left of it then," Altland said in a later interview.
A surveyor looking for a coach's application and resume reported that a Bethlehem School District receptionist told her, "You can't just come in and ask for that." The district's records officer then told her it was against their policy to release any information from personnel files, the surveyor said.
At Loyalsock Township School District in Montoursville, district office secretary Cheri King said the resume of the acting superintendent could not be released because it was not part of the school board's official minutes.
King later said that decision may not have been the last word.
"We normally do not give out personal resumes, but if someone were to ask for it on a right-to-know form we would clarify it with our solicitor," King said.
There were many examples of public officials who were unhelpful — requesters described individuals as "cold," ''incredulous and borderline hostile," ''very suspicious" and "a bit snippy and put out as if I was wasting her time."
But there also were many examples of requests that went smoothly, with government workers responding quickly and in full compliance with the law, exhibiting courtesy and sometimes going beyond the call of duty.
The Pottsville Area School District provided, at no cost, 13 pages regarding a school principal: his job application, resume, child-abuse history clearance, letter of interest in the position, professional certifications and criminal-background check.
In Silver Spring Township outside Mechanicsburg, the township manager went so far as to dig up his job application from 1983, and in Manheim Township near Hanover, the township manager offered to make a copy of his own resume from his home computer when he could not find one within the office's files.
In Slippery Rock, the borough secretary not only provided the records, but called a Butler Eagle reporter later to tell her she had left a scarf behind.
And South Williamsport police secretary Charlene Horton was "pleasant and efficient," wrote Sun-Gazette reporter Mark Maroney.
"Not only did Horton provide the police blotter, she asked me if I wanted a monthly, weekly or daily blotter report," he wrote.
And she didn't ask his name or why he wanted the public record.
- Tomorrow: Suggestions about changes to Pennsylvania's year-old Right-to-Know Law.
