"Absolute power can make for very arrogant public servants," says Julia Vaughn of Common Cause/Indiana. "For too many years, the Republicans on the City-County Council have been able to do whatever they wanted. Having one party in control of things that long, whether it's Republican or Democrat, is unhealthy for democracy."

Variations on the same statement have been made by many other observers of local government during the 30 years that Republicans have held both the Mayor's Office and a Politburo-like control over the City-County Council.
One of the Council’s critics is Linda Lasley, a neighborhood activist who says her first-hand experience supports Vaughn's observation. Over the course of the past year, Lasley and other members of the Fayette Street Homeowners Association petitioned the Council in unsuccessful opposition to Clarian's plan to build a monorail through their neighborhood. "The Council members, particularly the majority [Republican] members, essentially just patted us on our heads and told us to go away," Lasley says. "They were very patronizing, and just kind of dismissed people's concerns." Lasley was particularly galled by an instance of being denied the right to speak to the Council about the neighbors' monorail concerns, only to hear Council President Beurt SerVaas then invite Clarian representatives to share their views in the very same forum.
Another advocate frustrated by the Council is Andrea Price, who, as president of Public Access of Indianapolis, has unsuccessfully argued for local cable deals to include a public access channel. Like Lasley, Price says she and fellow citizen advocates face strict limits on their ability to present their views to the Council, yet find the councilors are happy to hear detailed presentations from corporations and their lawyers. “It appears that many of the councilors look for every way possible to avoid hearing any comment from the community,” Price says.

In the year 2000, some things in the City-County Council remain the same as they have for the past three decades. Republicans still hold a majority, and they have used it to retain a two-vote margin on every committee and re-elect SerVaas to continue his quarter-century tenure as the Council president.

The councilors are part-time legislators, holding down outside employment while earning an average salary of about $16,000 for their Council work. Thanks to partisan gerrymandering, councilors still enjoy a great deal of job security: Of the 25 Council districts, only three current councilors won their seats by a margin of less than 5 percent in the last election.

But over the course of the past year, the Council has seen several changes that may lead to checks on the "absolute power" long enjoyed by Council Republicans. The 1999 elections turned a comfortable 18-10 Republican majority working with a Republican mayor into a narrow 15-14 GOP majority forced to deal with a Democrat mayor whose veto of Council bills can only be overridden by 20 votes. Council meetings are broadcast on local cable TV, and councilors say the extra exposure has led to them now being widely recognized in the community.

Something less tangible has changed, too. The arrogance described by local advocates is a luxury Council members, both Republicans and Democrats, may no longer be able to afford in a time of heightened partisan debate and increasing public scrutiny. That scrutiny is likely to include review of the Council's gerrymandered districts, the distribution of lucrative consulting contracts to political allies and possible conflicts arising from the councilors' outside employment and campaign finances. All of those issues arise in these 10 things you probably didn't know about the City-County Council.

1. Thank you, Gerry mander. Signed, Beurt.

In the 1999 election, Democrat Council candidates received more district votes than the Republicans, 49 percent to 47 percent, and won all four at-large seats. Yet when the 2000-2003 City-County Council was seated, Republicans maintained a 15-14 majority. The key to this improbable arrangement can be found in the artful drawing of Council district maps nearly 10 years ago.

In Indiana, legislatures like the City-County Council are empowered to draw their own district maps. After the 1990 census, when Republicans held a large Council majority and the Mayor's Office, the Council approved an electoral map with district lines that insured the maximum possible GOP representation. A particularly unusual drawing was done on behalf of SerVaas, whose home in the 2500 block of West 44th Street lies at the bottom curl of a district shaped like a backward "C," awkwardly reaching all the way north to friendlier GOP confines as far away as 86th Street and Westfield Boulevard. In 1999, SerVaas needed every affluent block, as he defeated Democrat challenger Lou Campagna by only 375 votes.

The narrowness of the GOP's current Council majority and Bart Peterson's presence on the 25th floor of the City-County Building should lead to a more bipartisan cartographic effort when the new district maps are drawn after the 2000 census. Peterson can veto any map submitted by the Council, and the Republicans do not have the 20 votes necessary to override a mayoral veto.

2. Double dipped junking

Councilor Jody Tilford picks up two city paychecks, his Council check and one for his full-time job as a training administrator in the Department of Public Works (DPW). That unusual arrangement led to an allegation that nearly resulted in criminal charges being filed against Tilford. In October of last year, WTHR-TV broadcast a story featuring the claims by a DPW employee named Kenneth Kirkman that he was told to use city equipment on city time to remove a pool belonging to Tilford's sister-in-law. Kirkman said he was told the job was done at Tilford's request, and a WTHR camera showed the remnants of the pool stored in a city garage.

A DPW supervisor and Tilford denied the charge, saying that Kirkman misunderstood what amounted to a friendly suggestion. They said that Tilford only mentioned that the pool could be picked up by DPW employees engaging in "junking," a practice of free-lance disposal of refuse. In January, a Marion County grand jury declined to indict Tilford in connection with the incident, but issued a formal recommendation that DPW issue a specific policy about "junking."

Tilford did not return calls seeking comment for this article. Marion County Democrat Chairman Steve Laudig is critical of Tilford's involvement and wonders why Marion County Prosecutor Scott Newman — like Tilford, a Republican — did not pursue an indictment more vigorously. "I graduated from law school in 1977, but I'm pretty sure there is still a state law against stealing from your employer," Laudig says.

3. It's a good contract, by George

George Pendygraft is not a name often heard in local political circles, but it is a name that turns up often in Council financial records, including in a lucrative contract that pays him $135 an hour to act as a consultant to the Council.

Pendygraft, a Fishers attorney, donated to the campaigns of five different Republican councilors during the 1999 campaign cycle. Public records link Pendygraft with Beurt SerVaas, whose Waterway Boulevard office building is listed as Pendygraft's business address, and Councilor Beulah Coughenour, whose campaign Pendygraft served as treasurer of until 1999. Pendygraft loaned Coughenour's campaign over $2,000 in 1995 — a loan records show that he forgave. The records also show that Pendygraft loaned another $1,500 to Coughenour's campaign in January of 1999, which was still showing as unpaid a year later. Those sums were a significant proportion of Coughenour's campaign treasury, as she reported raising less than $10,000 in 1999. (The current councilors raised an average of about $13,000 for their campaigns last year.)

Besides Coughenour, beneficiaries of Pendygraft's largesse during the 1999 Council campaign included Jody Tilford, Curtis Coonrod, Robert Massie and Phillip Hinkle, all incumbent Republicans. Even though all of Pendygraft’s donees were re-elected by comfortable margins, campaign finance records show that he wasn't taking many chances. Pendygraft’s contribution to Massie came in the waning days of the campaign, and both Tilford's and Coonrod's checks were received after the election was already over.

The objects of Pendygraft's generosity were soon helpful to him, too. Pendygraft's status as a consultant for city agencies, an arrangement that paid him over $125,000 in 1998 and over $100,000 for services provided in 1999, ended with Democrat Bart Peterson's entrance into the Mayor's Office earlier this year. (Pendygraft’s consulting arrangement with the Goldsmith administration allowed him the unusual luxury of collecting those large sums without accounting for his work by the hour.) Therefore, it was fortuitous timing that in December, Pendygraft became a major beneficiary of a controversial post-election Council decision to set aside some $600,000 in public funds for future consulting contracts.

Coughenour, the biggest beneficiary of Pendygraft's electoral assistance, sponsored the ordinance that led to a lucrative contract for Pendygraft. When the vote on the ordinance came up at a Dec. 13 Council meeting, another councilor questioned what contracts the funds would cover. Coughenour replied that some of the $360,000 set aside by her proposal would be used to pay Pendygraft. The consequence of not setting aside the money, Coughenour said, would be that a different consultant may have to be hired in Pendygraft's place. All of the Pendygraft donees voted in favor of the ordinance, which passed 22-6.
Pendygraft and SerVaas soon signed a consulting contract retroactive to the first of the year. The contract pays Pendygraft $135 an hour for consulting services up to $48,000, with a possibility that this amount can be increased by agreement. Council records show that Pendygraft has already earned over $11,000 on this contract during the first five months of 2000.

Was there a link between Pendygraft's campaign donations and his subsequent consulting contract? Coughenour and Hinkle deny any connection. “As far as George helping in my or any other campaign, I think it is a free country and people who can believe in you can help you,” Coughenour says. “He believes in our Council, and he tried to help the campaigns of those who he thought were good people and do good work.”

Coughenour and Hinkle also say that Pendygraft’s expertise is valuable to the Council on environmental issues. “George is very knowledgeable about combined sewer overflow issues and has been helpful in exposing the fallacies of the current [mayoral] administration's position on fixing the 'CSO' problem," Hinkle says. "I think it's imperative that the Council make informed decisions on important issues like this and have consultants to help us do so."
Pendygraft refused to answer questions about his Council contract, his relationship with SerVaas or his campaign support for Coughenour and other Council members. "I don't think you have any entitlement to ask these questions," Pendygraft said when contacted by NUVO.

City-county councilors are subject to Standards of Ethical Conduct set out in the Marion County Municipal Code and enforced by a County Board of Ethics. Campaign contributions are excluded from the code section prohibiting councilors from accepting gifts or loans designed to influence official action. Corporation Counsel Scott Chinn is secretary to the Ethics Board and therefore cannot comment on individual situations. However, Chinn does say there are instances where campaign contributions can rise to the level of an ethical violation. "Whether the contributions are political or any other kind of gift, they can not be accepted if the intent is to obtain special consideration or influence the office-holder's decision-making," says Chinn.

Common Cause's Vaughn, whose organization advocates for campaign finance reform, says that influencing decision-making is exactly what most campaign contributions are designed to do. "You have to ask yourself, what is the contributor's motivation? It's been my experience that campaign contributors are pretty calculating in their giving."

Vaughn doesn't see anything in the Pendygraft situation that deviates from that conclusion. "The appearance of impropriety on this one is pretty strong," she says.

4. Currying SerVaas' favor

Another beneficiary of the Council set-aside of funds for consultants is former Republican Councilor Carlton Curry, who lost his bid for re-election in 1999 to an at-large Council seat. Like Pendygraft, Curry signed a contract with SerVaas for consulting services this year. Curry is paid $75 an hour for consulting on "technology applications and related issues," according to his contract.

Also like Pendygraft, Curry does his business in SerVaas's office building. Curry even has an e-mail address at servaasinc.com. Curry says that some of SerVaas' private businesses are also his clients, and that one of SerVaas' companies is his largest billable account. Judging from the bills Curry has submitted for payment to the Council, his workplace proximity to the Council president is quite convenient. According to those records, much of the time the Council has paid Curry for is spent discussing matters with SerVaas, attending meetings with SerVaas and even, in one billing entry, reading articles from the SerVaas-controlled Saturday Evening Post.

Democrat councilors like Karen Horseman are angry that these consultants, who are hired and paid to advise the entire Council, are so responsive to SerVaas but do not seem to be equally available to councilors on their side of the aisle. "We have never been formally informed that Pendygraft or Curry are under contract and available to us," Horseman says. "These people are under contract with the City-County Council, not the Republican caucus.”

5. It's good to be the president

Indiana law does not require that the Council solicit bids for personal services contracts, so it appears that the close ties between SerVaas and contractors like Pendygraft and Curry are not coincidental. SerVaas, as president of the Council, serves as a committee of one when deciding who will benefit from the more than half a million dollars set aside for Council contracts. "Dr. SerVaas is in charge of staffing and employment," says Robert Elrod, the Council's attorney and himself a recipient of the contracting funds. Republicans and Democrats on the Council, along with contractors interviewed for this article, agree that SerVaas alone exercises control over selecting and paying contractors from Council funds.

But the local ordinance that attorney Elrod refers to as supporting SerVaas' unilateral control isn't quite so clear, and even appears to give authority to an entire seven-member committee on rules and public policy. Title 1, Chapter 151 of the Marion County Municipal Code grants that committee — of which SerVaas is a member — authority for "recommendations upon the employment of the staff of the Council."

Minority Leader Rozelle Boyd says that SerVaas has simply assumed control over contracting with consultants because no one has stopped him from doing so. “I think both the Republican caucus and the Democrat caucus have sort of fallen down on the job of monitoring Dr. SerVaas in this area,” Boyd says. “I think you’ll find as many Republicans not knowing what’s going on with the hiring of consultants as you will Democrats.”

Boyd says the business and campaign connections between Pendygraft, Curry and SerVaas raise a concern. “The question is how close these relationships are, and whether these relationships can influence the legislative process,” Boyd says. “The accountability of the consultant inevitably flows back to the person doing the appointing anyway. So we are not comfortable that we get the same amount of information from the consultants as Dr. SerVaas receives.”
SerVaas did not return calls seeking comment for this article.

6. The liquor councilor

Councilor Jim Bradford represents the Broad Ripple area in the Council. He also represents Broad Ripple area bars and restaurants, among other clients, in his day job as a "preparer" of liquor permits. "I prepare permits and renewals for submission to the Alcoholic Beverage Commission in all 92 counties," says Bradford. "We are kind of like H&R Block, and we're normally cheaper than legal fees."

Bradford is a regular advocate for his clients in front of the Marion County Alcoholic Beverage Commission (ABC), which has one of its four members appointed by the Council. Bradford says that since he abstains from voting on the Council appointee to the ABC, any potential conflict is avoided in his representation of clients in front of that board appointee.

ABC member and Council appointee Robert Spear agrees, noting that the vast majority of liquor permit issues are uncontested. "Sure there's a potential conflict here," Spear says. "That's why he [Bradford] has to be careful." Spear thought that Bradford's care included declining to represent clients in his Council district, but Bradford does represent clients in his district. Although Bradford says he hasn't added any new Broad Ripple clients since he was elected and doesn't take new clients from the Glendale and Nora areas he helped develop, he admits that he has other district area clients and has added new ones since his election in 1995.

"I've never had a complaint because I've been up front with everybody," Bradford says, noting that he had been attending ABC meetings for 14 years before he was elected. "I think my expertise on liquor applications has helped my constituents." Meridian Kessler Neighborhood Association Director Caroline Farrar says Bradford has been a benefit to her neighborhood and she has never had a conflict with him on a liquor application.

But Northside environmental advocate Clarke Kahlo has clashed with Bradford over land use issues in his Council district, and Kahlo believes that Bradford’s connection with the liquor industry influences his official positions. “I think it’s a gross conflict of interest,” Kahlo says. “On one hand, he’s facilitating liquor licenses and on the other he’s appearing in photo ops for a drunk-driving task force.”

Bradford's business is reflected in his campaign financing strategy. Records from his 1999 re-election campaign show Bradford raised money from a variety of liquor stores and taverns, as well as $1,120 from the CEO of Monarch Beverage.

7. The cost of public safety

Councilor William Dowden is the chairman of the Public Safety and Criminal Justice Committee, which passes on the budget of the Indianapolis Police Department, Marion County Sheriff's Department, the Indianapolis Fire Department and the Marion County prosecutor. Councilor Dowden was also the beneficiary of 1999 campaign contributions from then-Director of Public Safety Alan Handt ($100), Friends of Jack Cottey ($300), Scott Newman for Prosecutor ($1,200) and a Firefighter's PAC ($582.94). During both his 1995 and 1999 campaigns, Dowden received contributions from other top officials in Cottey's Sheriff's Department.
Dowden says these donations have no impact on his law-making decisions. "That certainly wouldn't affect my position on any request they have in front of my committee," Dowden says.

But a local supporter of campaign finance reform questions Dowden's conclusion. "That's totally absurd," says Jack Miller of the Alliance for Democracy of Indiana. "People are affected by campaign contributions, it's just human nature. And contributors know how the game is played, they know they will get something back."

8. Developing Hinkle

Councilor Phillip Hinkle is the chairman of the Metropolitan Development Committee, which passes on zoning classification requirements and building inspection procedures, as well as the budget for the Department of Metropolitan Development. He is also a realtor with F.C. Tucker and the recipient of generous campaign contributions from the Metropolitan Indianapolis Board of Realtors (MIBOR) ($2,500), the homebuilders' PAC ($1,000), the Chamber of Commerce ($1,000) and construction equipment dealer P.E. McAllister ($1,200).

Hinkle vehemently denies any connection between his work as a realtor and his decision-making on development issues. "I make damn sure that if there is any perception of conflict between my job as a realtor and my Council position that I get as far away from it as possible and stay away from it," he says.

He also says that the campaign funds he receives buy no special influence for the donors. "Fund-raising is a fact of political life and it's something I hate," Hinkle says. "But I don't care if you give me a dollar or $1,000. That contribution does not buy you anything but my ear, and you can get that without paying a penny."

9. Soards' hoard

Councilor Bill Soards may be a new kid on the Council, having just been elected for his first term in 1999, but he already is a leader in an important political category: Soards is by far the most prolific fund-raiser on the Council. While the average councilor raised about $13,000 for their 1999 campaign, Soards raised $90,564.64. Soards makes no apologies for his fund-raising prowess, and adds a partisan dig in his explanation for why he solicits donations. "I wish I could finance my own campaign like [Mayor] Peterson's family," Soards says. "But I can't, so accepting contributions is the only way a non-wealthy person can compete." Soards won his seat with 53 percent of the vote, compared to 44 percent earned by his nearest challenger.

Soards' money came from a wide array of sources, including individuals ($2,500 from liquor distributor Edwin French, $2,000 from Lilly executive Andrew Crowe Sr., $1,500 from attorney Donald Blinzinger), corporations ($2,195 from General Hotels Corporation, $1,000 from the Colts, $250 from Comcast, thousands more from home building companies) and political action committees ($3,000 from the home builders' PAC, $2,400 from a fireworks PAC).

Soards' full-time job is as a lobbyist for Ameritech, and city officials say that Ameritech has several million dollars worth of current contracts with the city. But Soards sees no conflict arising from his work. "I recuse myself from the appropriate votes and make sure that I have no involvement whatsoever with telecommunications issues in the county," Soards says.

10. Not to be Short-changed

Soards is not the only councilor who juggles careers as both a lobbyist and a legislator. Democrat Frank Short is also a lobbyist, working with the law firm Leagre Chandler and Millard. Short is also the only councilor in Soards' fund-raising league, having raised $52,161.23 for his successful re-election bid in 1999.

Short admits that his and Soards' lobbying expertise helps them in the fund-raising process. "I probably have more fund-raising contacts than most councilors due to my business," Short says. "I understand the fund-raising process, and how important it is." Short says he used the funds to pay for mailings, polling and phone banks, especially during a closely contested primary.

Short's contributors include a Teamsters' local ($2,000), a physician named Jagdish Kulkarni who has a facility in Short's district ($3,000), a fireworks PAC ($1,000), developer Michael Browning ($1,000) and the pawn shop chain Cash America International ($500), which is also a lobbying client of Short's.

Like Soards, Short says that he deals with the potential conflicts between his dual roles as lobbyist and legislator by being careful to avoid voting on issues that involve his clients. "When there's a conflict, you lay off," Short says.
That policy is not good enough for the Alliance for Democracy's Miller, who objects to the whole notion of Soards and Short serving as both lobbyists and legislators. "That just doesn't pass the smell test at all," Miller says. "I think it stinks."




Hey, big spenders

"Legalized bribery," Julia Vaughn of Common Cause/Indiana calls the current campaign finance system.
Indianapolis Chamber of Commerce President John Myrland uses more nuanced language. The chamber's PAC (political action committee) is the top contributor to councilors, and Myrland candidly explains that his organization supports political candidates in an effort to advance the chamber's agenda. "We find out where their interests and the interests of our members match," Myrland says. "They all have campaign expenses and if we can help with those expenses by making a donation to someone who has been a good councilor or would be a good councilor, we support them."

Critics of campaign fund-raising like the Alliance for Democracy's Jack Miller say the current system leads to "laws written of, by and for the campaign contributors." If that’s true, here are some of the entities who made their purchases at the City-County Council in 1999:

LOCK:

Indianapolis Chamber of Commerce PAC: $12,150 given to 21 different councilors (Beurt SerVaas’ $2,000 was the biggest contribution any councilor received)

Firefighters locals and PACs: $10,339.26 given to 14 councilors ($3,939.40 to firefighter/Councilor Lance Langsford)

Metropolitan Indianapolis Board of Realtors (MIBOR): $9,500 given to seven councilors ($2,500 to Metropolitan Development Committee Chair and Realtor Phil Hinkle)

Fraternal Order of Police (FOP): $7,100 given to 12 councilors


STOCK:

Home PAC (HomeBuilders Association): $5,950 to seven councilors

SafePAC (fireworks manufacturers): $4,650 given to six councilors

Scott Newman: The Marion County prosecutor and his campaign fund gave $3,950 to nine different councilors, all Republicans, most notably $1,200 to Public Safety Committee Chair William Dowden

Health PAC (health care providers): $2,950 spread around 17 councilors


BARREL:

IPALCO: $2,600 given to nine councilors

Leadership Fund PAC (Indianapolis Water Company): $1,750 given to eight councilors

Council President Beurt SerVaas: $1,500 to three different colleagues (Coughenour, Hinkle and Soards)