My mother was a missionary for civility, and she raised six close-ordered children with that goal in mind.
Despite her high-mindedness, a lot of rough-and-tumble behavior went on behind her back. She was a stay-at-home mom and not gone much, but I remember a day when I was about 11 that she left us unsupervised while she attended a funeral. She returned home to find me with an ugly shiner.
“What in the world?!” she exclaimed. Turned out that Son No. 2 got tired of Son No. 1’s taunts and let loose a punch. The sister who stood between the pair – that would be me – forgot to duck.
An iron-clad rule at our house was that boys couldn’t hit girls. Boy, did I love that commandment, which was only one of many she created to enforce decorum.
Girl or boy, there were certain things we weren’t allowed to say. No curse words, of course. But we also were prohibited from calling anyone stupid or telling anyone to shut up.
My mother, who died in 2009, would be very disappointed with Jefferson County Councilman Jim Terry (District 7, Cedar Hill). She might even send him to his room without supper, a typical punishment when her children got mouthy.
On March 22, Terry admittedly told County Council administrative assistant Pat Schlette to “shut up” when she tried to seek county counselor Tony Dorsett’s advice on whether she should comply with Terry’s demand that she turn over her computer for an email search.
Missouri Attorney General Josh Hawley has filed suit against County Councilwoman Renee Reuter (District 2, Imperial), accusing her of ordering Schlette to destroy emails in an alleged violation of the Sunshine Law, the state statute that enforces open records and meetings.
Terry said he went to Schlette’s office to gather emails to and from County Council members, after a request from Hawley for those transmissions and at the direction of County Council chairman Don Bickowski (District 1, Eureka).
But Schlette didn’t think she ought to let Terry have her computer and password, which would violate policies for county employees.
What to do? She called Dorsett, against Terry’s wishes. And then she forgot to duck.
Steve Taylor’s story in the April 5 Leader laid out the whole seamy episode, which had Dorsett and Reuter’s attorney, Robert Schultz, arguing quite uncivilly. Dorsett claimed Terry had been harassing Schlette and Schultz reportedly told Dorsett over the phone to “shove it up your butt crack,” or alternatively, “put that up your keister,” which is the way Schultz said he remembers it.
Ultimately, Schlette left her office in tears, accompanied by county human resources director Nicole Crawford. Next, Jefferson County Executive Ken Waller – who said others, including Crawford and Dorsett, urged him to do so – signed off on a request for a court order of protection on Schlette’s behalf, against Terry and the rest of the County Council.
If the order is enacted, it would restrict the whole council from talking to Schlette about the Sunshine Law case, in which she is a witness, and specifically prohibit Terry, Reuter and Bickowski from talking to Schlette at all, except at council meetings.
Waller said Schlette’s office has been moved to a secret site.
So now, the seven-member County Council doesn’t know where their assistant works, and three of them could someday soon have to avoid saying “hello” to her if they end up on the same elevator.
What a mess! It’s in a judge’s hands now – sorry, Joseph Walsh III. He is hearing the Sunshine Law case and will decide whether to issue the order of protection.
Complicating the whole affair is the question of whom Schlette works for. Terry says he and his fellow council members are her bosses, but Waller, who has been at war with the council for some time now, says not entirely. Schlette’s ultimate boss, he says, is David Courtway, the county’s director of administration.
And, in case you wonder why the council has not already fired Schlette, or say, Dorsett, who appears to align with Waller in the war, it turns out that according to county policies, Courtway has that power, not the elected council members.
In an interview after the ruckus, Schultz, perhaps attempting to cover his own butt, made a point of stressing to our reporter that he said “keister” and not “butt crack.”
“I didn’t say the word they are accusing me of saying,” Schultz said. “My mother might read this in the paper.”
I hear you, bro. If I had been caught uttering such a thing, my mother would have had a true conniption. I can only imagine the words she might have used as she sent me off to my punishment.
But even when angered, she would have kept it civil. If only our county officials and their associates would do the same.
