www.montereycountynow.com MARCH 13-19, 2025 MONTEREY COUNTY WEEKLY 19 The Exorbitant FOIA Fee of the Year: Rapides Parish School District After a church distributed a religious tract at Lessie Moore Elementary School in Pineville, Louisiana, young students quickly dubbed its frank discussion of mature themes as “the sex book.” Hirsh M. Joshi from the Freedom From Religion Foundation, a lawyer representing a parent, filed a request with the Rapides Parish School District to try to get some basic information: How much did the school coordinate with the church distributing the material? Did other parents complain? What was the internal reaction? Joshi was stunned when the school district responded with an initial estimate of $2 million to cover the cost of processing the request. After local media picked up the story and a bit of negotiating, the school ultimately waived the charges and responded with a mere nine pages of responsive material. While Rapides Parish’s sky-high estimate ultimately took home the gold this year, there was fierce competition. The Massachusetts State Police wanted $176,431 just to review—and potentially not even release—materials about recruits who leave the state’s training program early. Back in Louisiana, the Jefferson Parish District Attorney’s office insisted on charging a grieving father more than $5,000 for records on the suspicious death of his own son. The Now You See It, Now You Don’t Award: University of Wisconsin-Madison Sports reporter Daniel Libit’s public records request is at the heart of a lawsuit that looks a lot like the SpiderMan pointing meme. In 2023, Libit filed the request for a contract between the University of Wisconsin and Altius Sports Partners, a firm that consults college athletic programs on payment strategies for college athletes (“Name, Image, Likeness” or NIL deals), after reading a university press release about the partnership. The university denied the request, claiming that Altius was actually contracted by the University of Wisconsin Foundation, a separate 501(c)(3) organization. So, Libit asked the foundation for the contract. The foundation then denied the request, claiming it was exempt from Wisconsin’s open records laws. After the denial, Libit filed a lawsuit for the records, which was then dismissed, because the university and foundation argued that Libit had incorrectly asked for a contract between the university and Altius, as opposed to the foundation and Altius. The foundation eventually did produce a copy of the contract in the course of the lawsuit, but the game of hiding the ball makes one thing clear, as Libit wrote afterward: “If it requires this kind of effort to get a relatively prosaic NIL consultant contract, imagine the lengths schools are willing to go to keep the really interesting stuff hidden.” HANNAH DIAZ/EFF It took the CIA seven years to produce memos by former director Mike Pompeo. Even then, redactions included his mom’s “secret” fudge recipe. The Fudged Up Beyond All Recognition Award: Central Intelligence Agency There are state secrets, and there are family secrets, and sometimes they mix like a creamy, gooey confectionary. After Mike Pompeo finished his first year as Trump’s CIA director in 2017, investigative reporter Jason Leopold sent a FOIA request asking for all of the memos Pompeo had sent to staff. Seven years later, the agency finally produced the records, including a “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year” message recounting the annual holiday reception and gingerbread competition, which was won by a Game of Thrones-themed entry. (“And good use of ice cream cones!” Pompeo wrote.) At the party, Pompeo handed out cards with his mom’s “secret” recipe for fudge, and for those who couldn’t make it, he also sent it out as an email attachment. But the CIA redacted the whole thing, vaguely claiming it was protected from disclosure under federal law. This isn’t the first time the federal government has protected Pompeo’s culinary secrets: In 2021, the State Department redacted Pompeo’s pizza toppings and favorite sandwich from emails. The You Can’t Handle the Truth Award: Virginia Gov. Glenn Youngkin In Virginia, state officials have come under fire in the past few years for shielding records from the public under the broad use of a “working papers and correspondence” FOIA exemption. When a public records request came in for internal communications on the state’s Military Survivors and Dependents Education Program, which provides tuition-free college to spouses and children of military veterans killed or disabled as a result of their service, Gov. Glenn Youngkin’s office used this “working papers” exemption to reject the FOIA request. The twist is the request was made by Kayla Owen, a military spouse—and a member of the governor’s own task force studying the program. Despite Owen’s attempts to correct the parameters of the request, Youngkin’s office made the final decision in July to withhold more than two folders’ worth of communications with officials who have been involved with policy discussions about the program. GEOFF KING/OPEN VALLEJO Vallejo police officers were caught in a scandal revealing that they used “badgebending” to celebrate killing people. The Courts Cloaked in Secrecy Award (Tie): Solano County Superior Court, and Washoe County District Court, Nevada Courts are usually the last place the public can go to vindicate their rights to government records when agencies flout them. When agencies lock down records, courts usually provide the key to open them up. Except in Vallejo, California, where a state trial court judge decided to lock his own courtroom during a public records lawsuit—a move that would surprise even Franz Kafka as too surreal and ironic. The suit, filed by the American Civil Liberties Union, sought a report detailing a disturbing ritual in which officers bent their badges to celebrate their on-duty killings of local residents. When public access advocates filed an emergency motion to protest the courtroom closure, the court denied it without even letting them in to argue their case. This was not just a bad look; it violated both the California and U.S. constitutions, which guarantee public access to court proceedings and a public hearing prior to barring the courtroom doors. Not to be outdone, a Nevada trial court judge has twice barred a local group from filming hearings concerning a public records lawsuit. The request sought records of an alleged domestic violence incident at the Reno city manager’s house. Despite the Nevada Supreme Court rebuking the judge for prohibiting cameras in her courtroom, she later denied the same group from filming another hearing. The transparency group continues to fight for camera access, but its persistence should not be necessary: The court should have let them record from the get-go.
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