Too
Big To Be Accountable?
Some
time back, I took a state agency to task on why I was paying nearly 3
times the rate of others in my industry. As the answer never
satisfied me, I reiterated my complaint every quarter when the bill
came due. The account manager assured me they were forwarding my
documentation and argument to the appropriate department, as the
clock ticked down on the Statute of Limitations for filing a
grievance. Following the events of 9-11-2001, public entities cut
their workforce by a large percentage, and the agent's workload
increased. While I understood, I was watching that window close.
With
only weeks left to appeal, that agent abruptly dummied up and
professed to know nothing of any complaint whatsoever, offering to
send documents to fill out if I wanted to file (again). I was
stunned, the truth that she had not acted at all suddenly dawning on
me. I was out of time.
I
had to close the business at the peak of the season. 40-something
people, out of a job, 200-plus contractors set adrift. A thriving
business now DOA.
So
I started fresh. New biz. New name. New software, equipment,
contractors. New workforce, union this time. And guess who wound up
in charge of my account again?
6
months in, I was working full time for a client when I got a call
from my business bank that this agency had seized my accounts. Then
within days, my truck was ransacked. The business and I both became
the target of ID theft.
Visiting
the local office of this megalithic entity was the only means of
resolving the issue, and reversing the seizure. Armed with reams of
documentation outlining my years-long petition for relief and
justice, we discovered to the astonishment of both of us that the
original account manager had falsified documents blending my original
business with the new one, submitted an estimated tax-due report, and
triggered the seizure.
The
person across the table me immediately wanted to reverse the seizure.
But couldn't, because ID theft had forced me to close all accounts,
business and personal. And while a phone call could return the funds
to my account, there seemed no means available to seize from one
account and re-deposit to a new one.
The
branch Director couldn't be bothered, didn't care. And said so. For
weeks. (Insert gratuitous film clip of Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee
Jones in the “I don't care” scene from The Fugitive.) Once more,
they were taking my business down.
About the time I was voicing my
opinion regarding this egregious treatment, my eye fell upon a notice
on the wall: “It is against Washington State law to harass,
intimidate or threaten a public employee.” (RCW
9A.76.180)
***
I
flashed back to a scene years before, when I was transported by the
Idaho State Patrol to Coeur d'Alene for failure to purchase a trip
permit. (Evidently the Idaho public servant found a Western Union
Money Order not legal tender for the sale.)
Along
the way, the driver would report in his location every 5 minutes, on
the nose. So I was curious enough to ask why. The answer froze my
blood.
“It's
a new state law whenever we have female passengers,” he informed
me.
It's
a cinch that law wasn't created in a vacuum, but in response to a
compelling event, a lawsuit. And suddenly I realized I was in Idaho,
home of covert and overt White Supremacist clans, survivalist and
isolationist factions, and nobody had any idea I was here.
I
could vanish.
***
Washington
State's prominent display of their notice, combined with a distinct
lack of camera or recording device, meant the State's interpretation
of such a perceived danger rested entirely with the agency that had
already knocked me down twice. And wiped their collective feet on my
carcass.
Baited
with the leading “Are you threatening?” I responded with a
prophecy, a promise that if my second company folded due to their
departmental lack of oversight, responsibility and failure to carry
out their duty, I would have nothing but Time on my hands, and
invited them to speculate on exactly how and where I planned to spend it.
Five
months later, I sent a courier to retrieve my money from Olympia, and
they returned my seized funds in a check labeled, infuriatingly,
“Petty Funds.” Three and a half years later, they proffered a
paltry percentage of my original claim – as a credit. Although it
spoke to their culpability, my business was already circling the
drain.
***
Which raises the question: Why is a State agency too big to take on?
Surely
I'm not the sole casualty of that account manager's outright
cover-up. Short of being a disgruntled former employee of mine, I can
find no reason to single out my company. Twice. So I can only surmise
this happened to many businesses under her purview.
And
why can I readily find legal advisers of every stripe to take on the
IRS, insurance lawsuits, and myriad other complex cases yet balking
at any dealing with an agency that has outgrown it's boundaries?
Retaliation
is reserved for those inside the safe confines of this outsized
department, forbidden by decree to you and me.
I
recognize a bully.
One
fellow lost his family, home, job and any future he might have
realized, attempting to force them to be responsible, responsive, to
the people they profess to serve. He painstakingly vetted each
decision he made, every step he took, as he sought to bring his case
to the attention of a cowardly press and a disinterested justice department. This was no maladjusted,
hypersensitive sort, but an educated man who was wronged. He wasn't
in it for the money. He wanted the agency to operate within their own
rules.
No
legal adviser would take his case. Not one publication or media
source would investigate his tale. Nor mine. And we are not alone.
Something
is broken in Washington State. Will anyone heed the call?
