Speech: "Believe It Or Not"

Speech To The Prineville Kiwanis Club
Delivered by Crook County Judge Scott R. Cooper, December 14, 2005
Meadowlakes Restaurant, Prineville, Oregon

Strange Things Happen In The Daily Course of Managing A County

Good afternoon, and thank you for inviting me to speak to the Prineville Kiwanis. I'm not sure Mary Thurman really knew what she was getting into when she asked me to share with you the most memorable and bizarre stories of my six years in office as county judge, but I'll do my best. Please rememeber that all of these anecdotes reflect the lighter side of life in Crook County, which for the most part is peopled by normal, law abiding, thinking people who expect little and demand less of their government. The exceptions, however, make for superior stories, and that's the point of my comments today.

To kick off, let me tell you about the day I once spent 4 hours chasing a set of dentures for an indigent individual after Sen. Whitsett referred him to my office for assistance. The basis of this referral was that this poor man, a Crook County constituent, was complaining of weight loss and malnutrition because he couldn’t eat. I chased his dentures through every local public health agency and state and federal resource I could think of. I spent a half day asking people to help this guy find some teeth so he could eat again. What I found out was that no one covers the purchase of dentures. Finally, I find a private source of payment. And when I called my constituent back to report, “Problem solved”, only then did he reveal that he had insurance coverage all along sufficient to meet his needs, but he didn’t want to risk a premium increase by filing a claim.

Some of my favorite stories come out of the compliance arena. Until I took office, the county didn’t have a compliance position, and the county’s approach to compliance made it nearly impossible to get the county to act when a danger to public health or safety or an unsightly nuisance was reported by a neighborhood. We have two compliance officers who chase junk cars and unapproved septics and planning and building code violations from one end of the county to the other. Their stories are some of my favorites. The best one I ever heard related to a constituent in the south part of the county who decided to extend his cramped quarters in a travel trailer to include a living room built out of pyramided hay bales. This apparently worked for the gentleman, but it proved a little cold. The gentleman decide to resolve the problem with a heating unit, which it turned out was a wood stove—with a hot stove pipe stuck up through the middle of the hay bales. That was the point where the county got involved and red tagged the entire project, pending some sort of insulation between the combustible hay the hot stove pipe.

Another favorite compliance case involved a 92 year old man feuding with his 84 year old neighbor about what he described as an unsightly view out his patio doors. The gentleman was relentless with daily calls complaining about his view of his neighbor’s junk. The poor little lady who was the subject of these complaints responded by noting that she lived alone with no family support and didn’t have the means to move her stuff out of her neighbor’s view. In desperation to resolve this one, I finally dispatched the Community Corrections Department to move the junk pile out of view. When they returned 15 minutes later, they reported with some glee that the source of this ongoing dispute was a single overturned rowboat and a pile of dirt. Once it was moved to the side of the house, the complaints ceased.

Yet another compliance case involved a family with two small children who had to be evicted from their house due to unsafe living conditions. The situation was so pathetic that the compliance officer, who is a young guy with a big heart, literally returned in tears to see if we could find an alternative home for these folks. For half a morning, I called around, looking for a placement for this family, and eventually the Central Oregon Housing Authority agreed to move the family into one of its units in Redmond. Within a few hours, the family reported to the CORHA headquarters for an intake evaluation, and that was the first time we learned that the father of the crew was a 34-year old man with 37 previous arrests and convictions in the Crook County Circuit Courts. There was also, it turned out, an outstanding warrant for his arrest, issued by Crook County Parole and Probation. The resolution of the housing problem suddenly became clear. We lodged the girlfriend and her two small children with CORHA, and we lodged the Dad in the Crook County jail. The ultimate irony of all of this was that once the father got out of jail and reunited with his family and started searching for a rental for the family, he listed the compliance officer who had ejected him in the first place as one of his references.

Maintenance of the Courthouse has provided some of my best stories about the challenges of serving the public. Shortly after I took office, I was puzzled that I couldn’t get hot water anywhere in the Courthouse. When I investigated, I found that the elements in the water heaters had burned out years ago and that maintenance had been instructed to save money by not replacing them. A few days and $20 later, we were in hot water once again. Another of my favorites was a complaint from a schoolteacher whose classroom had climbed to the top of the clock tower one day that maintenance in the clock tower was inadequate because the tower was dirty and had too many flies and yellow jackets flying around—Considering that the clock tower is open-sided, I’m not sure what she though we would do about that.

And speaking of dust, I will never forget the day the County was cited by DEQ after we carpeted the courthouse. Apparently, somebody was offended when we removed the old floor tiles during working hours revealing a floor surface below where the cement had gone to powder long ago. DEQ cited the county for tolerating excessive dust in the courthouse and endangering the health of the public and the workforce. The county responded with a hot letter noting that dust may be the most ubiquitous product that Central Oregon produces. We suggested DEQ cite God, since he is probably the ultimate source of ambient environmental dust in the region in the summer months. To the best of my knowledge, the citation was never sent, and we never heard anything else from DEQ.

I suppose nothing is scarier in my position than some of the knowledge I encounter in the public and environmental health arenas. Shortly after I took office, we started publishing restaurant inspection scores in the newspaper in an effort to encourage local eateries to make some much needed improvements. In telling this story, it is important to remember that we were only publishing the second inspection score—the one the restaurant achieves after we have come in the first time and identified their deficiencies that must be corrected within 30 days. When we reported in the newspaper that a well-known, brand name eatery had achieved a score of less than 70, it wasn’t long until I had a visit from the furious owner of the franchise. As he argued to me that I should suspend the reporting program, his justification was priceless: “I can’t be responsible for what goes on in my restaurants. That’s why I hire managers. I shouldn’t be penalized when they don’t do their jobs.”

I’m pleased to report that that program was tremendously successful. Within 6 months, the average restaurant inspection score went from 70 to 90. But averages don’t always capture the true picture. There are still a few restaurants in which I will not eat in Prineville. My favorite story I ever heard was about an inspection conducted by Environmental Health which discovered some strange and unrecognized meat in the kitchen. The inspector looked around a little bit more, and while he was never able to prove anything, he strongly suspected the meat might have been connected to the plucked and butchered carcasses of several Canada Geese he found in the dumpster. Another local restaurant had some difficulty in opening, because in the course of three inspections, each one produced a fatal flaw in the form of cigarette butts found in the food. I admit that cooking kills a lot of germs, but that was too much for the restaurant inspector. The worst part of this story was that shortly after all this unfold, my mother chose one of these two restaurants as the site of her birthday dinner. I’ve never told her to this day why I confined my appetite that night to prepackaged soda crackers!

No story about restaurants and food is complete without reference to one of the highlights of my term as county judge so far—my trip to Korea as an invited guest of the Governor on his official trade mission. We were treated like royalty on this trip, and the Koreans were very gracious in showing us traditional Korean hospitality. It was a wonderful cultural experience. At one point, they took us out for a traditional Korean meal, and I had to admire the artistry of the chefs when they set in front of me a Korean delicacy, a fish laying long ways across the play with thinly carved and cascading layers of sushi piled in its center. It was artistic and obviously expensive. I was so impressed I admired it for several minutes, and that’s when I notice that it seemed to be moving. In fact, it was moving a lot. Suddenly it all became clear. The sushi piled atop the fish just minutes before had been part of the fish. Well, this is the essence of diplomacy: When in Rome (or Seoul) do as the Romans, or in this case, the Koreans. I put my scruples aside, I grabbed my chopsticks, I ate my fish and I drank a lot of the Korean tradition drink, Soju. I am proud to this day that of all the Americans at the table, I was the only one who was able to do that. EDCO’s Roger Lee, whom many of you know, simply turned a pale shade of green. He really will never appreciate what he missed. Had I not undertaken eating the fish, I am quite certain I would never have drunk as much Soju as I did. And had not drunk that much Soju, I am equally certain I would never have had the courage later that night to join a Pilipino band on the stage of Karaoke palace. If I hadn’t joined that band, I would never have serenaded 100 Koreans with the strains of John Denver’s Rocky Mountain High, and had not done that, I would not have achieved the immediate affection of my Korean hosts, and the jealous admiration of my Oregon friends who in their long careers had never seen anyone break through Korean reserve so fast and further the cause of Korean-American trade.

But we’re not done with this little trip down memory lane yet. No story of the bizarre experiences that I encounter as county judge is complete without a discussion about one of the county’s least pleasant functions: the disposal of the unclaimed dead.

If a body is unclaimed, then the responsibility for disposing of it defaults to the county under Oregon law. Our standard procedure is to cremate the body using the cheapest possible means available. We have a good working relationship with the local funeral homes, who take turns picking up bodies, completing the necessary paperwork and disposing of remains. One day several years ago—it happened to be the Friday before Labor Day weekend--I received a routine phone call asking about the disposal of a body. I assigned to a funeral home, and went on about my business, giving no further thought to the matter. A few hours later, the undertaker called back. This time, his question was a little out of the ordinary: the family of the deceased having now order three separate viewings of the body, would the county be willing to pay for those? At this point, I had to ask, “What family?” An indigent burial by the county by definition occurs only when there are no family or friends and no estate to take responsibility for final disposition of the body. A viewing certainly implies somebody is taking an interest in the deceased. I told the undertaker there would be no further proceedings in this matter and all negotiations for disposition and payment henceforth should be negotiated with the family. About 4 p.m., I left the office to start driving to Odell Lake for an annual camping weekend. I was barely out of town, when my cell phone rang. I answered it only to discover that my very accommodating secretary had transferred to me the call of the distraught daughter of the deceased, who proceeded to scream at me for the next 10 minutes about the county’s lack of compassion for her deceased father and the duty and obligation of the county to pay final burial expenses for this citizen who for so many years had been a taxpaying citizen of Crook County. Since I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, I could only wonder where she got this idea.

I could go on and on about some of the things I’ve deal with during my time at the county, but I think the above gives you some idea of what passes as daily fare in the county administration offices.

My wife reminded me last night of an exchange we once had when we were awaiting a flight at the San Francisco airport. We were eating at the restaurant, and a TV was on. The show was the Jerry Springer Show. There was some sort of conflict going one with an unbelievable plot line involving highly dysfunctional people. My wife was fascinated. By some strange twist of fate, she had never seen the Jerry Springer Show before. She turned to me and said, “Honey, this is made up. People like this don’t exist. I don’t believe it.”

Having done this job for a while, I didn’t miss a beat. “Honey,” I told her. “Don’t delude yourself. People just like that do exist, and some of them are my constituents.”

Thanks for letting me share with you my Believe It Or Not Version of Crook County Government. It has been a pleasure to be your speaker today, and I wish you a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, but I leave you with one very valuable thought: If you're going out to dinner this Christmas, don’t eat the goose.

Of Angels, Shepherds and Wise Men

By Scott R. Cooper, Crook County Judge
Originally published December 2006 in the Central Oregonian of Prineville, Oregon

Characters From The Christmas Story People Our Every Day Lives

The Christmas holiday is one that means something different to everyone. For some, it means a trip out of town to visit relatives. For others, it means the arrival of the relatives. Some combine relatives with friends, and some spend the day alone. For some families, the highlight of the day is the opening of gifts. For others, it may be a family ritual such as a dinner or attending church together or reading the nativity story.

Regardless of how you and your family spend Christmas, you probably know the basic elements: Christmas is the Christian celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ. The history and tradition of this event is reported in four separate gospels in the New Testament, each of which includes a few details not mentioned in the other three. For the most part, however, we Americans get the gist of the event: Jesus was born in a town called Bethlehem in Judea, where his parents had traveled at the command of Caesar Augustus. Because everyone else was traveling at the same time, there was no room at the inn, so Mary and Joseph had to take lodging in a stable. As a result, the Son of God was born in a manger, attended by animals. In the age before television, news of the event was broadcast immediately—by choirs of angels who appeared to terrified shepherds watching their flocks on nearby hillsides. Once these farmers got over the shock of seeing angels, they hurried to Bethlehem to worship the new baby wrapped in swaddling clothes. At some point thereafter, wise men, (labeled kings in some versions) followed a star to the place where the baby lay in order to do him homage.

There might be some parts of the world where the basic elements of Christmas still aren’t understood, but I’m willing to guess that Prineville isn’t one of them.

A theologian could probably explain why the gospel writers chose to emphasize these elements in telling the Christmas story. Surely there are lots of other things they could have talked about: Was it cold when the baby was born? Was the birth difficult? What was Joseph’s reaction to all of this? What was the reaction of townspeople of Bethlehem to the appearance of stars in the sky above them and choirs of angels breaking out into song in the fields around them? On these points, the gospels are silent, and we are left only to contemplate. All we are told for certain is that angels, shepherds and wise men were part of the mix.

I am no theologian, but I can’t help but wonder if there isn’t a parable in the gospel writers’ choice of images. I have often thought that angels, shepherds and wise men might be a metaphor for the important and basic roles we depend on people to play in our lives even today.

I know that we in Crook County are surrounded by angels, shepherds and wise men, and for the most part, we don’t appreciate them for who they are as we see them going about their everyday work.

Too often, we think about doctors, nurses, therapists, aids, orderlies and other health professionals as those people on the other end of the insurance bill (assuming we are fortunate enough to have insurance.) Not until we’re in crisis do we truly stop to appreciate that these people have lives that don’t revolve around us. They too have families and Christmas dinners to attend. When we ask them to neglect those in order to care for us, they are in many respects very much the angels among us.

As for the shepherds, that’s easy: they are the people who put their lives on hold in the course of protecting us from our own folly. The shepherds take many forms: They are the search and rescue volunteers, who take time from family or job to hunt down lost hunters and hikers in the forest. They are the policemen, deputies and troopers and traversing dangerously slick highways to answer the distressed calls of stranded motorists. Each fireman and EMT, turning out in the dead of night, is a shepherd, and so are the road crews that plow snow round the clock or clean culverts at 2 a.m. so that we have a chance of surviving our own stupidity when we drive too fast to work in the morning.

And then there are the wise men (and women). These are the people we look up to and to whom we look for guidance and comfort. These people don’t sort themselves in an easily definable way. Sometimes they are visible elected leaders, although elected office itself doesn’t confer wisdom. Sometimes they are leaders through example, such as food pantry workers, youth leaders, service club members, or church leaders. These selfless individuals care so deeply about others that they sacrifice their own comfort to make a difference in the lives of fellow men and women by contributing their labor, their resources and their leadership to make a difference. And then there are the village elders, those whose life experience, life example and good humor inspires the rest of us to keep striving to replicate their example. They too are wise men.

I think perhaps it’s not an accident that the gospel writers placed their emphasis on angels, shepherds and wise men at the expense of so many other details in the Christmas narrative. To the degree that the gospel offers a roadmap for life, I wonder if we aren’t called by this story to pause a moment amidst the hectic pace of Christmas preparations and think about the categories of people who make essential contributions to our lives.

Angels, shepherds and wise men were present at the dawn of the new era. They were witness to and actors in ushering in a new kingdom. Their contributions of sharing joy with the rest of the world, lending their protection to gentle animals and newborn babes and stubbornly following stars so that they could witness and pay tribute to revitalization and rebirth of civilization itself is a story that is timeless.

The possibilities of a world which values Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men aren’t limited to the village of Bethlehem two thousand years ago. Men and women in our community are striving to convert possibility into reality each and every day.

There are angels, shepherds and wise men among us still. To them and to their families and to each of you, have a blessed Christmas.