Press Release
Duluth Police Department

Date:   March 2, 2010

Contact:  Jim Rodman, Duluth Police Department Investigator, (218) 730-5671

Duluth Police and Taxi Owners Join Forces;
Create New Rule Aimed to Reduce “Free Rides”

Duluth, Minn. — There’s an ongoing problem with people failing to pay their cab fares in Duluth, specifically at night.

Cab drivers reported nearly 100 incidences of people failing to pay their cab fares in 2009. Drivers say they have left many more occurrences unreported because they could not afford the time it takes to file a report.

The Duluth Police Department and cab company owners have been meeting to discuss the issue and how to address it. The two groups have agreed that from 10 pm to 6 am customers will have to either pre-pay or prove they have the ability to pay before the cab driver will begin the trip.

“We commend the taxi cab owners for their willingness to meet with us and work toward solutions,” said Duluth Police Investigator Jim Rodman. He is asking taxi customers to be understanding when they’re asked to pre-pay or prove they can pay. “We believe this new approach will significantly reduce the amount of free rides people are getting, and allow cab drivers to be paid for the valuable service they deliver.”

Both groups will closely monitor this approach and will meet again in mid-March to assess how well it’s working.

Duluth police officers are also working with local gas stations to address the ongoing problem of people driving away without paying for gas. In 2009, nearly 500 calls were made to 911 to report gas drive offs. Owners said hundreds more drive offs go unreported each year. A joint task force has been created and members are in the early stages of developing a plan.

# # #

I hit Record on the Marantz recorder and took the elevator to the fifth floor. I walked to the Duluth Room, which turned out to be a typical corporate meeting room: conference table, TV, side counter bearing soft drinks, various odds and ends of hotel furniture scattered about. A number of board members and Spirit Mountain employees were already there. Nobody physically attacked me or called the police right away, so I put down my gear and began setting up the tripod and video camera.

Board Chair Nancy Nelson came over and told me they had instituted a new policy with regard to documents discussed at board meetings. They would provide one set of copies for members of the public to view, but they would not provide copies for anyone to take home. She pointed to a small stack of papers on a nearby table. A cover sheet on the stack read “FOR PUBLIC INSPECTION” in bold, underlined, 48-point capital letters.

“Might as well speak for the mike,” I said, holding up the unidirectional dynamic. “I’m speaking with Nancy Nelson, board chair.”

“We’re just discussing the open meeting laws and what they require,” said Nelson.

Ramos: So you’re saying you can provide one set of copies for me to look at, but not a set for me to take home? Is that correct?

Nelson: I’m saying that’s the minimum that’s required by the law. Yes. One set of copies for people to inspect while they’re here at the meeting. It does not require us to provide you with copies to take home with you.

[Ramos produces the state open meeting laws. A discussion ensues.]

Nelson: Right here it says: “The open meeting law requires that for open meetings, at least one copy of any printed material prepared by the public body and distributed or available to all members of the public body also be available for inspection by the public.” That’s all it says.

Ramos: Right, but the—but the—

Nelson: It doesn’t say that we have to send copies home with you.

Ramos: But without copies, I’m not able to be fully informed.

Nelson: You can take pictures of them.

Ramos: [laughs] You’re telling me I have to take pictures of copies?

Nelson: I’m just telling you what the law says. We’re going to follow the law.

Ramos: All right, I’ll sit here like the old CIA and snap pictures of documents.

Nelson: Bring your own copying machine. You can make copies.

Ramos: What did you say? Bring my own copying machine, I can make—?

Nelson: [giggles] If you wanted to, you could. All it says is we have to provide one set of copies for the public to inspect while they’re here at the meeting. We’re doing that.

I was surprised, to say the least—first because Nelson had approached me at all, and second because she was taking the line she was. Did she think this kind of treatment of a citizen by a public authority was acceptable behavior?

Nancy Nelson (for those who need the Cliff Notes) rose to public prominence in 2001, when she led the movement to stop a golf course from being built at Spirit Mountain. In some circles, she is known as the Tree Lady for her efforts on behalf of urban greenspace and old-growth forests.

Ultimately, Nelson and the preservationists prevailed. The golf course was stopped.

In 2004, Mayor Herb Bergson appointed Nelson to the Spirit Mountain board. In 2008, she was elected chair.

In the past, whenever we engaged in small talk before and after meetings, Nelson had been unfailingly polite. I had always thought of her as a nice person. That was why her jab about the copying machine surprised me. But that was only a minor detail in the bigger picture: Nancy Nelson and the Spirit Mountain board were willfully and intentionally making things as difficult as they could for me. Nelson had made this clear when she said they would be doing “the minimum that’s required by the law.”

Spirit Mountain knew perfectly well what I wanted—copies of all documents—and they had known it for the seventeen months that I had been attending board meetings. In the early days, when I sat quietly in the corner, they just gave me everything without question. It was only since I had begun writing about their master plan that their policies had changed. Now, a process that had once been smooth and painless had evolved into a ridiculous ordeal.

I turned on the Fujifilm Finepix and started snapping pictures of the documents, the first of which was the meeting agenda. Funny that they wouldn’t have more than one copy of that.

I felt ridiculous. I turned the camera off and stuffed all the papers into my Duluth pack. That was better. Simple solutions appealed to me.

Chair Nelson called the meeting to order. I hit Record on the video camera.

Spirit Mountain Finance Director Jen Carlson gave a short talk on the authority’s financials. Glancing at the profit and loss statement I had filched, I saw that twenty-five of Spirit Mountain’s twenty-nine income categories were down for the year. Season pass revenue was $107,000 below budget. Winter lift ticket revenue was $161,000 below. Café revenue was down $44,000. The list went on. Overall, Spirit Mountain’s net sales for the year were down $378,000 from the previous year and $459,000 below budget.

Carlson didn’t mention all of these numbers in her remarks, which was just another reason (I reflected) why it was nice to have copies.

“We have just been putting on the brakes,” said Carlson. “I don’t know what else to say about the profit and loss, other than we’re well aware of what we need to do and we’ve been trying to do it.”

“We’re pulling back on everything that’s not a necessity for ordering,” said Spirit Mountain Executive Director Renee Mattson. “So everyone is making do with what we’ve got to get through the end of the year, as well as addressing the labor issue. We’ve cut back in every department. We’ve had some good heart-to-heart discussions with the staff about where we’re at and what we need to do to get through this difficult season.” According to the P&L statement, total salaries and wages for the year were down $70,000 to budget.

“So you’re just running things more frugally and cutting back here and there, wherever you can?” asked Vice Chair Todd Torvinen.

“We’ve been having some really good staff meetings, with brainstorming solutions for us,” said Mattson. “I mean, you can cut and cut and cut. We’ve been talking more revenue projections, but it’s things like people being more mindful of turning off the lights. It’s light later in the day. We haven’t been turning on the chalet lights in the building. It’s a sunny day. It’s not a necessity.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Torvinen encouragingly.

“Turning off the water taps, that’s another thing about the restrooms,” continued Mattson. “I mean, it’s so easy…the taps go different directions, so there’s always extra usage there. But is everyone being mindful that even those little things really add up?”

I had a vision of Spirit Mountain employees madly turning off lights and water taps until their half-million-dollar deficit was erased. I immediately chastised myself for being cruel. That kind of attitude really added nothing to the conversation.

Speaking of conversation, had any of this appeared in the local media? Naturally not. The last article about Spirit Mountain in the Duluth News Tribune had appeared three days earlier, on February 15. It was headlined, “Plenty of piping thrills at Spirit Mountain” and talked about Spirit Mountain’s snowboarding terrain park. In the story, a five-year-old girl was asked what she thought about the jumps. “They’re high,” she replied. “They’re big. They’re cool. You can jump high.” No mention was made of deficits or shortfalls.

Following the depressing financial news, the board perked up a bit when Vice Chair Torvinen and Spirit Mountain Director of Skier Services Denny Monson discussed the repair and replacement budget. The city council had granted Spirit Mountain an additional $50,000 in tourism tax for the year, on top of the $225,000 they already received. An “additional funds allocation” list accounted for the new money.

“That sheet is available,” said Torvinen, glancing around the table. “Make sure everybody has a copy. John, do you have a copy of that as well?”

Was he talking to me? He was! I straightened up behind my camera.

“Oh, apparently I’m not supposed to get any copies,” I said with impressive dignity. “I can just look at them. But I’d like a copy, yeah.”

“We can probably get you a copy,” said Torvinen. “I’m sure we can email you a copy or something.”

Nancy Nelson looked uncomfortable. Had there been a little miscommunication on the board?

Anyway, I already had my copy. The top item on the additional funds allocation list was $13,500 to finish paying for the restraint bars on A-Lift. The next item was $8,000 for engineering work related to the proposed water supply pipeline from the St. Louis River to the hill. Other items on the list included an ATV ($6,000), seven new snow gun nozzles ($4,200) and new café blinds ($1,300). Before long, the extra $50,000 of tourism tax was accounted for.

Following this list was Spirit Mountain’s primary repair and replacement budget, which consisted of eight items totaling $257,750. The first item was $100,000 for bathroom renovations. The second was $40,000 for a used excavator. The third was $35,000 for a mowing tractor. And so on.

As it turned out, however, these latter items constituted more of a wish list than a capital improvement plan. Vice Chair Torvinen informed the board that because of the uncertain economic climate, they had decided to “defer” all scheduled repair and replacement “to a future year” and use the money to pay for the alpine coaster instead.

My mind reeled. Could that be true?

Torvinen: My understanding is that Renee met with the city administration, and although we have the scheduled repair and replacement budget down below here, $257,000 that is earmarked to be spent under our original $225,000-a-year agreement with the city, they’ve also made an interpretation that the amounts that we’ll be spending on the debt service for the alpine coaster will suffice under that agreement that they had with the city to have repair and replacement items spent in that amount of $225,000. So this list, although it’s designated, will be deferred to a future year, and we’re going to keep some of that money as a contingency in case the economy continues to show us some bad results.

To clarify: Per City Council Resolution 03-203 and a 2003 Use and Management Agreement between the city and Spirit Mountain, the city gives Spirit Mountain $225,000 in tourism tax and requires Spirit Mountain to maintain a $225,000 repair and replacement budget. Now, however, the city had “made an interpretation” that using the repair and replacement money to pay for the alpine coaster would satisfy the requirements of the agreement.

Was that sound business practice? Was it even legal? At the very least, such a questionable interpretation represented a radical departure from the norm.

Section 3.1 (d) of the Use and Management Agreement says this:

The Authority agrees to prepare and submit a budget for repairs and replacements of the facilities and equipment used in connection with the Recreation Area. Such budget shall be submitted to the City with the operating budget and at other times as directed by the City. Funds credited to the Repair and Replacement Account under the Resolution shall be available to pay such costs. The Authority agrees to construct, acquire and install each project listed on such budgets.

How did one interpret “Repair and Replacement” to mean “brand-new alpine coaster”? And how did one interpret “construct, acquire and install” to mean “defer”?

Section 3.1 (e) of the agreement says, “The annual…repair and replacement budget shall be subject to review and approval of the City Council.” Had the council reviewed and approved the mass deferrals? They had not. Nothing resembling them had ever appeared on the council’s agenda.

So who did know about this creative payment plan? I certainly couldn’t recall anything being said about it in the media or at board meetings. I did remember somebody saying the payments on the coaster would be “very doable.” In fact, I heard that just one month ago, right before the board voted to approve the lease-purchase agreement with Beacon Bank.

I also heard—again, one month ago, right before the board voted—that the project had “a sizable contingency.” Shouldn’t the contingency money be used before gutting the capital repair budget?

To sum up: Spirit Mountain was reacting to a terrible year of business by forgoing capital maintenance in favor of building a new attraction. I could only imagine how the local media would respond to that. Maybe they would publish a story entitled, “WHEEEEEE!” and interview children about the wind in their hair.

Curiously, the paper trail revealed none of this. Even copies wouldn’t help me in this case. The repair and replacement budget was listed, but there was no mention that it had been “deferred.” The only evidence of this was Torvinen’s words. Luckily, I had them recorded in two or three different formats.

Torvinen: And so, with that, I think that that’ll help us get through the year a little bit better, and should that change, we’ll have the opportunity to come back and revisit these. But, at this point, we’ll just defer that.

So, with that, I would make a motion to accept the $50,000 budget as discussed at the repair and replacement committee meeting.  Can I get a first on that?

I should note that the concerns raised here are my own, and not, apparently, the board’s. They listened to Torvinen without comment. It did not seem like anyone had the slightest concern. This, in itself, made me wonder if the board was entirely aware of what they were approving. One would think that such a fundamental shift of priorities would inspire some comment.

Torvinen’s request to “get a first on that” led to a bit of confusion, as no one seemed to have heard the phrase before. I certainly hadn’t.

Torvinen: Can I get a first on that?

Board Member Neale Roth: I’ll sec—

Renee Mattson: [laughs]

Roth: You’re gonna do it, Jane?

Board Member Jane Gilbert-Howard: Well, no. You need a motion, or did you put a motion in yourself?

Torvinen: I tried to do a motion. Is that—could I—?

Roth: I think you can present it as a motion.

Gilbert-Howard: Yeah, you can present it as a motion.

Torvinen: So I need a first, and…

Gilbert-Howard: Well, he was gonna second it, but I can second it.

Torvinen: Okay. Is there any discussion on this at all? I would note the board members that are here are the ones that were at the repair and replacement committee meeting as well, so, with that…

Wait. What? They had held a committee meeting about this? So they all did know what they were approving? And they didn’t care?

Torvinen: …so, with that, I’ll move to approve. All in favor?

All: Aye.

Torvinen: All right, I guess that passes.

That was strange. Why was Torvinen calling votes? According to Robert’s Rules of Order, votes are to be called by the chair—in this case, Nancy Nelson.

And why did Torvinen ask the board to approve only the $50,000 budget? The $50,000 budget is a small addendum to the overall repair and replacement budget. Torvinen mentions the “repair and replacement committee meeting” that everybody went to, but he neglects to mention the repair and replacement budget itself in calling the vote. Why?

Robert’s Rules states that motions put to a vote must be clearly stated. “In putting the question, the chair should make perfectly clear what the question is that the assembly is to decide.” Had that been done?

What, exactly, had the Spirit Mountain board approved?

Leaving these questions behind, the board moved on to the part of the meeting everyone had been waiting for: the Alpine Coaster Update.

“It’s coming,” said Renee Mattson, laughing. “If all goes according to plan, and it looks like it is from the production side of things, the first container will be shipped from the factory next week, so we’ll have our first container arriving on site the first week of April.”

Spirit Mountain maintenance workers had begun clearing brush for the ride, doing their best to avoid any “significant trees” as they carved out a twelve-foot-wide corridor through the forest. Permitting had begun for a new 63-car parking lot at the top of the hill that would serve the new ticket office and concession building (the ride would start at the top of the hill). Final drawings for the buildings would be arriving “next week,” said Mattson, and she hoped to put them out to bid at that time.

The grand opening for the alpine coaster was scheduled for the last week of June.

Torvinen wondered about the marketing of the attraction. “This is Duluth’s newest attraction that we’ve had in four or five years. Prior to that was the water park, prior to that was the aquarium, prior to that was the Omnimax Theater. […] We may wanna just have a lunch or something with some of the key hoteliers and just say, ‘You know, we need to adopt this as our own to make it successful in its first year, to get some visibility out there.’” Mattson agreed that this was a good idea.
 
Chair Nelson adjourned the meeting. As everyone got up to leave, roving journalist Richard Thomas, who had been slouched on a couch in the corner of the room, approached Nancy Nelson and asked her for a copy of the financial statement. As Nelson began her explanation about the Public Inspection pile, I interrupted her. “I took it,” I said.

“You took it?”

“You bet I did.”

“Well, could you share it with him?”

“Yeah, I’ll share it with him.” Unlike Spirit Mountain, I was happy to share information with people, out of the goodness of my heart.

I then demanded that I be given three days’ notice of all Spirit Mountain committee and subcommittee meetings. The repair and replacement committee meeting where so much had been decided had never been announced, though such announcement was required by law.

Nelson asked me to show her where the open meeting law said this. I did so. She agreed to notify me of committee meetings.

At last, everything was in order. Pleased with another successful day of breaking news stories, I packed up my gear and headed home.

Located on the fourth floor of the Paulucci Building, next to the Aerial Lift Bridge, ZMC headquarters was smaller than I expected—narrow hallways and small offices furnished with typical office décor. ZMC manages more than thirty hotels nationwide, including the Edgewater Best Western and the Inn on Lake Superior in Duluth.

I was there for the monthly Spirit Mountain board meeting. Todd Torvinen, ZMC president and vice chairman of the Spirit Mountain board, had opened the ZMC conference room for that purpose.

A number of board members and Spirit Mountain employees were sitting around the table when I walked in. The conference room was much smaller than the lofty spaces of the Spirit Mountain chalet, where the board met before. This made it easier for me to record. I set my machine up in a vacant space at the table, next to Torvinen, and took a seat along the wall with my notebook.

I hadn’t been able to make it to a board meeting for a couple of months. It would be good to catch up.

At 5:04 p.m., Board Chair Nancy Nelson called the meeting to order. After approving the minutes and listening to a short report on the December financials from Spirit Mountain’s Director of Finance Jen Carlson, the board got down to the most pressing issue of the day: Approval of a lease-purchase agreement with Beacon Bank.

This agreement is the financial mechanism being used to finance Spirit Mountain’s new alpine coaster, which will be known as the Timber Twister.

Spirit Mountain Executive Director Renee Mattson explained to the board what she needed. First, she needed them to re-approve a resolution they had approved at their last meeting, which provided for the execution of the lease-purchase agreement. The reason they needed to do this was because Bob Toftey, Spirit Mountain’s bond counsel, “wanted the dates to match” on the resolution and the loan.

Bob Toftey is employed by the Fryberger, Buchanan, Smith & Frederick law firm, where he also serves as bond counsel to St. Louis County.

“I’m happy with the legal advice,” Mattson said with a little laugh. “If he tells me to do it that way…”

“He’s one of the best,” agreed Torvinen.

The motion was approved. The board turned their attention to the lease-purchase agreement itself.

“It’s a lot of legalese,” commented Mattson, sorting through papers. “The important part is that we’re starting with a fifteen-year loan that we fully plan to pay off in ten or less. But fifteen was the recommendation of Dennis Ramberg of Beacon Bank, to allow us time to get some operational months under our belts, see how things are going. Smaller payments. It can be for fifteen years. We’d prefer to pay it off sooner.”

The monthly payment on the loan, which was scheduled to close on January 26, would be $17,767. Mattson said the payment was “very doable.”

Vice Chair Torvinen explained that the loan had an interest rate that reset every five years to prevailing market conditions. Currently, the loan was at “a real nice rate” of less than four percent. He also noted that the project budget included “a sizable contingency…of about nine percent.”

“That’s good to know, just as you go into a project,” said Torvinen. “Anything over five is good.”

Board members had all received copies of the agreement from Mattson via email prior to the board meeting. They all seemed to be satisfied with it. After a brief discussion, they approved it unanimously.

Board Member Will Munger gave a report on the last meeting of the Nordic Committee. People didn’t cross-country ski at Spirit Mountain as much as elsewhere in the community because trails elsewhere were free. Board Member Jane Gilbert-Howard admitted that she fell into this category herself. Munger solicited suggestions from the board for improving the cross-country experience, and commented that he felt the “committee level” was the best place to ponder the future of cross-country skiing at Spirit Mountain.

Chair Nelson adjourned the meeting. I got up and started gathering documents from the table—the agenda, the minutes, the monthly financial report. I asked Nelson for a copy of the lease-purchase agreement. Nelson said nothing, but only looked over at Renee Mattson, who was leafing through the agreement.

My recorder was still on the table and running. The transcript follows.

John Ramos, Independent Journalist Extraordinaire: Could I get copies of the contracts that everybody signed?

Renee Mattson, Executive Director, Spirit Mountain: Not tonight.

Ramos: Well, the board signed them.

Mattson: Well, I don’t have copies.

Ramos: Well, you could probably manage to…they must have a copier around here.

Mattson: Um…

Ramos: Merely because you don’t have a copy right this second doesn’t mean I don’t get it.

Mattson: I never said that, did I? I think I told you in order to [obscured by cassette surface noise].

Ramos: I’m saying we could go make a copy right now.

Todd Torvinen, President, ZMC Hotels: I can make you one. What do you need?

Mattson: I’ve got a couple of things here. I’d just like to get [unclear] them first.

Ramos: Well, I’d rather not have to keep running back and forth trying to get copies.

Torvinen: What are you trying to get?

Ramos: The contracts that the board signed.

Torvinen: Those are legal documents at this point. You can’t take their—

Ramos: Legal documents with the Spirit Mountain Authority, correct?

Mattson: We don’t have to give you the documents, John.

Torvinen: We can give you those, but those are all in triplicate and they need to be put together into sequential order, and…

Ramos: Okay, so how long would it be and where could I get those?

Torvinen: Well, this is gonna go back to Fryberger and they’re gonna bind it into a bond document and then that becomes one sequential thing and then you can…

Ramos: It seems to me that it’s public property as soon as the board takes official action on it.

Torvinen: Don’t even go there. Bring it up in your article. I mean, this is like going to a city bond issue in the middle of a city council meeting and asking if you can get copies of the documents that they just signed.

Ramos: I think they copy the bond issue documents.

Torvinen: No one’s gonna throw it down a hole.

Ramos: Well, since they’re…since they’re…

Torvinen: Nobody’s trying to stonewall you here. We’re just trying to say this is not administratively convenient for anybody to do this.

Ramos: Since the agreement is closing on the 26th and it’s the 21st right now, when would I ever get that? Didn’t you say that the 26th is when it’s being closed on?

Torvinen: The loan is gonna be closed at the bank.

Mattson: We’re closing the 26th. The city has already approved this.

Torvinen: It’s already been approved.

Ramos: Right! Right! I understand that. That’s why I want to see copies. I mean, the city is already involved. It’s all public stuff.

Mattson: No, it’s not [obscured by other conversations].

Ramos: The city approved it, so…

Mattson: John—file a—go to the city. You’re not getting it tonight.

Torvinen: We try to accommodate you any which way we can. It’s something that’s collated, in triplicate, ten or fifteen different sizes….

Ramos: So where will I be able to obtain all this, then?

Mattson: I’ll be happy to stand at a copy machine for thirty minutes and get you your copies at some time when it’s all bound.

Ramos: Well, then, I’d be happy if you did, and don’t act like it’s a big imposition, either.

Torvinen: It is a big imposition. It is a—

Ramos: It’s a public document!

Mattson: You’re not gonna write anything positively or accurately, anyways. You have a history of doing that.

Ramos: Um…I believe I’m always accurate.

Mattson: You’re never accurate! What about that crap about the lift and our chairs at Spirit Mountain?

Torvinen: Unless you’re an attorney, you don’t even have the background to interpret that document.

Ramos: I can still look at it. I can still read it.

Torvinen: That’s what I’m saying. If you’re going to put work on your blog that misrepresents what the legal document is, that’s…

Ramos: My blog is an open blog. If there’s any misrepresentation, anybody who wants to is welcome to respond. Absolutely. It all goes through, too.

Torvinen: Yeah, all ten of those people may have. You know?

Ramos: Well, apparently you and a bunch of others are following it quite closely.

Mattson: The people that you lie and slander always read your blog.

Ramos: Who have I slandered?

Mattson: I think you’ve been slandering Spirit Mountain for the last year and a half, John, and I would appreciate some…

Torvinen: We’ll get you a copy of that. You can put it in writing. We’ll get it to you in the normal course of business, according to the public data [unclear].

[The conversation pauses. Other conversations in the room continue. Surface noise as recorder is placed in satchel. Conversation resumes, slightly muffled by satchel.]

Torvinen: It really is not…she’s really…are you [unclear] the process to…

Ramos: Well, I mean, if the agreement’s gonna be finalized on the 26th, that only gives me a week. If I go away now, then tomorrow it’s not ready, and the next day, that’s…even now…

Torvinen: What’s your goal in trying to bastardize the document? Are you with a bank or something, or what? I don’t know.

Ramos: Bastardize the document? That wasn’t my intention, no.

Torvinen: Well, what’s the point of trying to get it before the 26th? It’s gonna be the most boring document you ever read.

Ramos: Well, if it’s so boring, I’d like to read it. I like to read boring things.

Torvinen: But they won’t give it to you…they won’t even get the bound copy from the attorneys for several days until this is done.

Ramos: Well, how come it all goes through really smoothly right at the last minute, but beforehand, it’s like pulling teeth to get anything?

Torvinen: I don’t understand. This is…You could go…Have you ever asked for copies of city bond issues? Huh? That night? I mean, go to the council meeting and say, “We would like copies of this,” and they’re up in the mayor’s office signing them? Do you ever walk in there and—

Ramos: The bond issues are posted before the council meeting, even.

Mattson: This was approved by the council.

Ramos: That’s what I…I understand that. I like to see things that the council approves. I know the council approved it. I’d like to see it.

[a few seconds obscured by surface noise. Ramos and Mattson can be heard arguing.]

Ramos: If I’m so slanderous and libelous, let’s see some lawsuits. I’ve never slandered or libeled a single person.

As I said this, I was heading out the door. Torvinen said, “You need the publicity,” in a disgusted voice. Sadly, my recorder did not pick this up.

On Monday, January 25, I called Spirit Mountain and left a couple of messages for Mattson asking about my copies. Later, I received a return call from Jodi Nelson, Mattson’s assistant.  Nelson told me that the contract I wanted was still at the bank and would be for several days. It might not get back to Spirit Mountain for a “couple of weeks.” If I wanted a copy, I would have to wait until then.

I didn’t make a fuss. What was the point? I had lost the battle the moment I left the boardroom. If you leave without the documents, it’ll be a long time before you ever see them again. I knew that.

What I didn’t know was how long Spirit Mountain was going to keep this up. Would my blog become some kind of action-packed serial, featuring showdown after showdown with the Spirit Mountain board, each and every month, forever?  Or would they finally see the error of their ways and simply give me the copies I required?

I hoped the latter, but suspected the former.

Early in the afternoon of October 26, 2009, fifteen or twenty people milled about in the mud at the top of Spirit Mountain, waiting for the mayor to arrive. Spirit Mountain employees and board members made up two-thirds of the gathering; the rest were from the media. We were there to watch the mayor cut a ribbon.

The occasion? The old chairs on Big Air Lift, the mountain’s northernmost ski lift, had been replaced. The new chairs hung motionless from their cables in the gray fall air. I studied them with a journalistic eye. They looked like ski lift chairs, all right.

This was purely a media event: Round Two in Spirit Mountain’s public relations campaign to get more tourism tax. The media seemed eager to oblige. Reporter Trevor Roy from Channel 6 was there with a camera, along with a guy from WDIO with his own camera and an unidentified woman bearing a third camera and tripod. As far as I could tell, no members of the general public were in attendance.

“I saw your piece on the hundred-year-old man last week,” the woman said to the WDIO guy as they unpacked their gear. “I liked it.”

He laughed. “Everybody liked it.”

A table and portable lectern bearing the logo of Spirit Mountain had been set up on the ski lift’s wooden dismounting platform. After consulting with the TV people, Renee Mattson, executive director of Spirit Mountain, moved the table farther back.

Denny Monson, Spirit Mountain’s director of skier services, stood nearby with a few employees. “Spread out,” he instructed them. “They might want to get a shot of the big crowd.” The workers laughed and moved apart.

SM Executive Director Renee Mattson and Mayor Don Ness

SM Executive Director Renee Mattson and Mayor Don Ness

SM Executive Director Renee Mattson, SM Board Chair Nancy Nelson, Mayor Don Ness and unidentified SM employee

Mayor Ness arrived promptly at 2:00, looking dapper and self-assured in a well-cut gray suit. Nimbly negotiating the mud, he shook hands with Renee Mattson, schmoozed briefly with board members and employees and ascended the platform to the microphone.

Mayor Don Ness: Today is a very exciting day for Spirit Mountain and our community, and I think it’s a continuation of a true success story of what’s been happening up here over the past few years. And I give a lot of credit to the Spirit Mountain staff, to the Spirit Mountain board, and in particular to Renee Mattson, who has done a fantastic job bringing vision and management to this operation, and this is, I think, probably the most visible example of the improvements being made up here at Spirit Mountain, and there’s more to come. And it’s because of the hard work of the board and Renee and her staff that this success is possible. And we’ll make Spirit Mountain a viable and successful entity in Duluth for many years to come.

In two minutes, the mayor was done. I gathered from his remarks that he supported Spirit Mountain. Board Chair Nancy Nelson replaced him at the microphone.

Nancy Nelson: Thank you, Mayor Ness, and on behalf of the board, I do welcome you here today, and thank you for coming. It’s a very exciting day for Spirit Mountain. This is the completion of one of the first major projects that’s part of our new master plan, so we’re very excited. And now we’re gonna continue working on that master plan, and see if we can make more of those new projects happen, help to make Spirit Mountain an even better asset to the area, to the community, and so we’re very excited about it, and we really appreciate all the support from your administration. Thank you very much for being here with us today.

When Nelson wrapped up her comments, Trevor Roy popped up from behind his camera and asked a question.

“Mayor, if you have time,” he said, “—if you—with the current state of the city’s budget, how much of a priority is Spirit Mountain to get the influx of cash to—?”

Before Roy could finish, the mayor cut him off.

Ness: Well, I think, to point out, Spirit Mountain is its separate authority. It’s a state authority of the State of Minnesota. They obviously have a relationship with the City of Duluth. The city doesn’t provide any general fund support to Spirit Mountain. The support that does come to Spirit Mountain is from the tourism tax funds, the funds that this entity helps generate. It’s one of …obviously, our premier wintertime tourist destination, and so they reap the benefits of the tourism tax that is generated from their operations over the course of the year.

I noticed the mayor committing the usual oversight of public figures who discuss the tourism tax—that is, failing to acknowledge the contributions of local residents. It is true that Spirit Mountain “helps generate” tourism tax. It is equally true that every local resident who eats in a restaurant or drinks in a bar helps to generate tourism tax as well, some of which goes to support Spirit Mountain. For some reason, getting politicians to mention this fact on a regular basis is virtually impossible. Everybody just keeps forgetting.

My own pet peeve aside, I guessed that when Spirit Mountain came to the city for more tourism tax, the mayor would lobby energetically on their behalf. He seemed pretty pumped up about their mission.

“All right, let’s get the ribbon out,” said the mayor. He was more businesslike than I remembered, not that I ran into him much. How many ribbons did he have to cut in a week?

Snip, flutter, light applause. Board Chair Nelson, Board Member Jane Gilbert-Howard and an unidentified Spirit Mountain employee arranged themselves in a new chair lift chair, spun around the wheel and descended the mountainside, getting smaller and smaller until they were lost in the backdrop of still-spectacular fall colors.

With a smile, the mayor declined to take a ride. Saying his goodbyes, he strode away, a man with places to be.

The media packed up their gear and headed down to the parking lot. Trevor Roy lit up a cigarette. Business North reporter Richard Thomas and I agreed that there was no story here. I got into my car and went home.

And that night, what happened? Was the media bursting with stories about Spirit Mountain’s wonderful new ski lift chairs? You might think so, but no. The chairs got a brief mention on Channel 6, along with a short companion piece on the Channel 6 website that inaccurately claimed Spirit Mountain had built a new chairlift (Exact headline: “New Chairlift Ready For Use this Winter at Spirit Mountain.”) None of the other TV stations or websites carried the story.

2009_1026_smribboncutting

“It’s the coolest thing ever,” Renee Mattson, executive director of Spirit Mountain, is quoted as saying. “This is going to be a great thing for us and for all of Duluth.” The project, which “already has the blessing of city officials and the Spirit Mountain board,” is expected to cost “more than $2 million.”

For a front-page story, the article was curiously short, both in length and on facts. For example, it neglected to mention where the $2 million was going to come from, merely quoting Mattson as saying that the ride “is expected to pay for itself quickly.” None of the city officials who supposedly blessed the project were quoted, or even identified. No city councilors were asked to comment on the project. Indeed, other than Mattson, no local person was asked to comment at all.

The story was accompanied by a massive full-color picture of a guy in shorts and sunglasses sailing through a green forest in a plastic yellow coaster on stainless steel rails. Weirdly, this was not a photo of a Duluthian or anything in Duluth, but a promotional photo lifted from the website of the Wisp Resort, a recreation area in Maryland.

Obviously, an article like this—one that answers no questions, provides no context, interviews no people and borrows its pictures from advertising brochures—is not journalism at all, but a press release.

It is not unusual for newspapers to run press releases—this group is having a meeting, that group is hosting a dinner. Such items are generally a few lines long, buried deep in the paper with no author mentioned. In this case, however, the press release was elevated to front-page status, given an excited headline and dressed up with a John Myers byline. One wonders how Mr. Myers—a seasoned reporter well versed in the philosophy of watchdog journalism, after all—felt about putting his name to such a piece of garbage. Did he feel a twinge of shame, or did he merely hit Return and reach into his desk drawer for another jelly doughnut?

More importantly, one wonders: Why did the News Tribune do it?

One has to view this as more than a simple slip-up. Assuming that the powers that be at the News Tribune are capable of distinguishing real journalism from a press release, one can only conclude that the royal treatment given this particular press release was calculated and intentional.

Any remaining doubt we might have had on this score was removed the next day, October 9, when the News Tribune followed up its abysmal reporting with an editorial entitled, “Bring on the slide.”

When was the last time Duluth had a new bona fide reason for visitors to scream, “We gotta go back there!” or “We gotta check that out!”?

The Alpine Coaster ride being planned at Spirit Mountain has promise to be Duluth’s next big thing.

And the next big thing for the ski hill, too. Not only will the ride push the recreation area closer to becoming a year-around attraction as it has always been envisioned, it’ll generate revenue to pay for other projects that also will help Spirit Mountain succeed. Things like snow-making equipment that pumps water from the St. Louis River rather than drawing from the city’s water supply.

The stainless steel track ride, the first of its kind in the Midwest, is to cost $2 million to build. But it’s an investment that could quickly be recouped via ticket sales. Who won’t be eager to plunk down a measly eight bucks to whisk 750 feet downhill, achieving speeds of up to 26 mph? Views will be unbeatable. Less-adventurous riders will be able to control their speed. And the automatic ride back up could be just as big a thrill.

Visitors and locals alike will ride again and again. And then maybe head up to Lutsen to ride its similar Alpine Slide.

This proposal fits. It complements an attraction that already exists, meets the region’s need for fresh draws, ties in with the existing ski hill, and doesn’t disrupt the environment. The ride will wind around existing natural features. Little tree-cutting will be necessary.

Construction could begin as soon as spring, and the new ride could be open by midsummer — but only if the city’s Parks and Recreation Commission and City Council sign off this month.

If the details prove as enticing, as promising and as sound as the proposal, neither body should hesitate to approve what very well could be Duluth’s much-needed next big thing.

Does any of this sound familiar—the over-the-top enthusiasm (the project is “fresh,” “enticing,” “promising,” “sound,” “the next big thing”), the giddy assertions based on nothing (“Visitors and locals alike will ride again and again”! “It’s an investment that could quickly be recouped via ticket sales”!), the casual dismissal of any possible criticism (“Who won’t be eager to plunk down a measly eight bucks?”), the closing demand for public officials to fall into line and approve it? Does any of this ring a bell?

I am reminded of another editorial, published in the News Tribune on July 28, 2000.

Lively, detailed, lovingly hand-crafted, hands-on exhibits should spark new interest among young and old, resident and visitor, skeptic and enthusiast in the unique qualities of freshwater ecosystems….

After 11 years of persistence in the face of ongoing skepticism, hours upon hours of fundraising, painstaking attention to detail and stubborn commitment to freshwater preservation worldwide, Duluth’s Great Lakes Aquarium is finally a reality.

The Great Lakes Aquarium is a place to return to time and again—and to bring friends, family and visitors.

With television, it would be more understandable. Television news stories rarely, if ever, venture far from the realm of press releases. Television reporters are too busy fixing their hair, brushing on makeup, and standing in snowdrifts with microphones to update everyone on the weather to bother much with reporting. Once you weed out the sports stories, the breast cancer awareness stories, the lost pet stories, the burned-down-house stories and whatever lady-with-a-big-collection-of-something stories happen to coincide with that night’s news cycle, there isn’t much left. And that’s okay, or at least unsurprising, because we don’t expect anything more from television.

Newspapers are different. Even in today’s environment of slashed reporting staffs, newspapers have a little more time to do it right. There is no evidence that Myers did anything but spew out the press release verbatim. A simple Google search of the phrase “Spirit Mountain master plan” would have instantly turned up three articles on the subject—two written by me (here and here) and one written by Richard Thomas of Business North magazine (here)—that would have provided some context for the Alpine Coaster story.

Since the News Tribune seems unwilling to do its job, allow me to fill the breach.

The Alpine Coaster story is the first salvo in a public relations campaign being waged by Spirit Mountain to increase their share of the city’s tourism tax. Currently, Spirit Mountain receives $225,000 a year in tourism tax, which it uses to pay off bonds for past improvements. They would like the city to raise this amount to $450,000 annually. Mayor Don Ness has told the board that such an increase will not happen in 2009, but there is a possibility that it could happen in 2010.

The $2 million required to build the Alpine Coaster will come from capital improvement bonds issued by the city, similar to bonds the city issued last year to finance the DECC expansion. As with all such bonds, the city is ultimately held responsible for repayment. If the wild fever dreams of Renee Mattson and the News Tribune editorial board don’t quite pan out as expected, the city will be held accountable.

No studies of any sort have been done on the potential economic impact of the Alpine Coaster. Any predictions that appear in the media are nothing more than speculation fueled by hope. As far as Spirit Mountain is concerned, it wouldn’t be such a terrible thing if the Alpine Coaster did fall a little short, as this would give them a great reason to ask for more tourism tax.

If built, the Alpine Coaster will be the first visible component of Spirit Mountain’s updated master plan, which was approved by the city council on August 25, 2008. Johnson Controls, Inc. is the company responsible for oversight and implementation of the master plan.

A major part of the master plan calls for Spirit Mountain to build a pipeline from the St. Louis River to the ski hill, to establish its own water supply for snowmaking and thereby eliminate the need to purchase city water. Although no physical work has begun on the pipeline, a great deal of behind-the-scenes work involving permits and engineering has already been completed. The official project schedule prepared by Short Elliott Hendrickson, subcontractor for the pipeline, shows that permitting is largely complete and that final design of the pipeline will begin in November of 2009—that is, now (Figure 1, prepared by Short Elliot Hendrickson Inc./Jeffrey R. Ledin, PE).

Figure 1. Schedule for Spirit Mountain Water Supply Infrastructure Improvements

To date, SEH has been paid $43,000 for their services, which money came from a $350,000 interest-free line of credit that the city extends to Spirit Mountain to cover their expenses during the off-season. This money is separate from the tourism tax. When the final design and construction estimates for the pipeline are completed, Spirit Mountain will undoubtedly use them as another reason to ask for more tourism tax.

According to the experts on the News Tribune editorial board, the Alpine Coaster will not only pay for itself, but will also generate enough money to pay for the pipeline. Does this mean they have any idea what the pipeline will cost? Of course not. They’re just spouting off any old thing, because they’re so excited by the project they can’t think straight.

Here are the numbers. Preliminary estimates developed by Spirit Mountain’s Finance Subcommittee and presented to the board on January 22, 2009 put the cost of the pipeline project, including a new maintenance shed to house the pumps, at $6.4 million. When added to the $2 million cost of the Alpine Coaster, we come up with $8.4 million that the News Tribune believes the ride will pay for. At $8 per ride—and without considering maintenance, labor or inflationary costs—this means that 1,050,000 riders will have to zip screaming down the mountain before the projects break even. Is this realistic? Does anybody care?

I find it highly amusing that the News Tribune calls the Alpine Coaster Duluth’s “next big thing.” It so happens that I wrote an article two years ago with exactly that title, in which I argued that the city will never be able to climb out of debt, because as soon as it starts to, the “next big thing” comes along and wipes out any progress that’s been made. The fact that the News Tribune uses the phrase three times in a single editorial does little to change my point of view.

Now (you may ask yourself) how is it that I, an average citizen operating on a voluntary basis, am privy to such detailed information about these projects, while the veteran reporters at the News Tribune are forced to rely on press releases? Do I have an inside track, some plugged-in contact who feeds me juicy tips?

Far from it. Actually, I find that most of the people at Spirit Mountain don’t even like me much. The reason I have information is because I attend board meetings and get copies of everything that is discussed. News Tribune reporters do not. That’s the whole secret.

Now, I hardly think that I just happened to stumble across the one board that DNT reporters neglect. I don’t think they go anywhere, unless somebody calls them up and says something is happening. This is lazy, irresponsible journalism, and it is the journalism of Duluth. There is so much going on, so many boards holding public meetings on so many topics and issues, and yet we don’t know anything about them, because the members of our particular Fourth Estate are content to sit at their desks and twiddle their thumbs while waiting for the phone to ring.

Although this arrangement shortchanges the public as a whole, certain people find that it works very much to their advantage. If you are somebody with an agenda, say, and you believe that positive, uncritical media attention will help your cause, why, just wait until the time is ripe—say, a few weeks before the city council is scheduled to vote on your proposal—and pick up the phone to call the News Tribune. Tell them what to print and they will print it. It’s as easy as that.

A look at the DW & PR line today

On July 16, 2009, the Spirit Mountain board of directors heard the first public presentation of a potential development to the south and west of Spirit Mountain that would be known as River Walk West. Encompassing 91 acres on both sides of Grand Avenue, River Walk West could potentially include single-family housing, apartments, villas, condominiums, a ski lodge, retail stores, townhomes, hotels, restaurants, a community interpretive center and a winery.

Developer Brad Johnson, representing the Spirit Valley Land Company, was careful to stress to the board that he and his group were not yet actively engaged in developing anything. Rather, they were focused on assembling the necessary land. Though they had been purchasing private property in the area since 1993, there were still a number of publicly owned parcels that they wanted for their plan.

“Originally, I did try to start the development process,” Johnson added in a later telephone conversation, “but people just would never believe it would ever happen if the land wasn’t under one control….A development [occurs] once you have land control.”

Some of the public parcels are located along the old railroad bed of the Duluth Winnipeg & Pacific Railway, which traverses the hillside above and roughly parallel to Grand Avenue. These parcels are defined in blue on the map in Illustration No. 1. The city purchased this land in 1984, when the railroad was decommissioned, for possible use as a trail. The property is held in a so-called “fee ownership” status, which means that the city owns it outright and can do with it as it pleases.

Illustration No. 1 (Double-click to Enlarge)

Today, the old railroad bed is a trail, though an unmaintained, partially washed-out one. Developers hope to turn it into an access road into the site, and replace the existing trail with a trail elsewhere on the property.

Another look at the DW & PR line today

The rest of the public parcels desired by developers were given to the city by the state in the early 1970s, to be held for possible use by Spirit Mountain. This land is “free conveyed” land (defined in red on the map), which means it cannot be used for anything other than Spirit Mountain-related purposes. In order for developers to acquire the property, the Spirit Mountain board would have to direct the city to convey the land back to the state. The state could then sell the land to the Duluth Housing and Redevelopment Authority, and the HRA could sell the land to the developers.

Another, perhaps more daunting, hurdle for developers is the federal Land and Water Conservation Fund, or LAWCON. LAWCON is a federal grant program that aims to preserve valuable natural areas for outdoor recreation. Since its creation in 1964, the LAWCON fund has granted $3.6 billion to a myriad of projects in every U.S. state and territory.

Looking north into LAWCON territory

According to Tim Howard, Supervisor of Real Property for the city of Duluth, “The city of Duluth received many LAWCON grants over the years, most of those in the 1970s. When the city agreed to accept the dollars from the LAWCON fund, along with the receipt of those dollars the city entered into a grant agreement with LAWCON, which states basically that the city would not convert any of the lands within the boundary to…non-recreational uses.”

The boundary, in the case of Spirit Mountain, is the DW & PR rail line. Property the city owns above the rail line is subject to LAWCON restrictions. As these restrictions are intended to be permanent, converting the land to other uses would be difficult. The only way the city could sell it to developers would be if the city first got permission from the National Park Service, then identified and purchased an equal amount of “property that it did not already own and dedicated that new property for outdoor recreation purposes, as replacement for any property removed or expunged from the LAWCON map,” says Howard.

In every case—fee ownership, free conveyed, LAWCON or otherwise—any action taken with city-owned property would have to be approved by the Planning Commission and an 8/9 vote of the city council.

Johnson and the Spirit Valley Land Company are selling River Walk West as a “green” development. When the subject of the Superior Hiking Trail, which skirts the northern edge of the developers’ property, came up, Johnson said, “For whatever we’re thinking about doing, trails are just good. They’re good for business, they’re good for people. The concept, when we say urban resort, is ‘soft recreation.’ It’s kayaking, it’s oriented toward trails, it’s oriented toward biking.”

Of the 91 acres needed for the project, Johnson told the board that about one-third would remain as undeveloped greenspace, “just because that’s the right thing to do.”

Johnson estimated that River Walk West would take about ten years to build in its entirety, and would eventually grow into a $50- to $100 million project. He further estimated that the property would generate between $500,000 and $2 million in property taxes annually. Currently, the parcel generates about $20,000 in property taxes.

When I asked, Johnson acknowledged that much of what he envisioned for the project today could be quite different by the time it came to fruition. As a developer, he found himself in the position of having to sell the project and make predictions without knowing all the variables. “I have to kind of say, I think this is what could happen there. It’s called the vision.”

“What happens in these deals is once you’ve got the land sort of under control, then you spend some money chasing down potential businesses that could move there. And that takes a year. And then you come back and you start putting a plan together, not based upon, you know, ‘I’d like to do this, I’d like to do that,’ but reality. And it’s just a very long process.”

Would the city be asked to participate financially? When I asked this, Johnson launched into a discussion of “amenities” that the city maintained and controlled, but which generated little revenue for the city, such as roads. The upshot of his remarks, as I understood them, was that developers might—indeed, probably would—ask the city to help them build access roads into the site, with the understanding that such an investment by the city would result in more property tax collections.

Looking south toward the St. Louis River

It bears mentioning, of course, that such an investment would also result in higher construction and maintenance costs for the city.

For now, River Walk West appears to be in a holding pattern. Johnson is unsure how the LAWCON requirements may affect the project. “We have to go back to the drawing board and see if it makes any sense for us to pursue that.” The city, according to Tim Howard, will focus its immediate efforts on assembling property outside the LAWCON boundaries.

What seems probable is that something will happen, eventually. Developers already own most of the property they need below Grand Avenue, and much of what they need above Grand. On several occasions, Johnson cited the statistic that Duluth got 3.5 million visitors annually. He felt that if more of those visitors could be convinced to spend their money in West Duluth, that would only be good for the city. “You got amenities that people, you know, turn left to go to Canal Park, and they just keep going up to the North Shore, and perhaps one percent of the tourists turn right [to West Duluth]. What happens if we got ten percent?”

So long, everybody!

—JR

On Wednesday, April 8, 2009, Resolution 224 quietly appeared on the consent agenda for the Duluth city council. The consent agenda is for uncontroversial items that the council expects to approve unanimously.

Resolution 224 is a short piece of legislation, only two pages in length. The title reads thus: RESOLUTION APPROVING THE BUDGET FOR THE FISCAL YEAR MAY 1, 2009, TO APRIL 30, 2010, IN THE AMOUNT OF $4,731,717 AND THE CAPITAL REPAIR AND REPLACEMENT BUDGET FOR THE SPIRIT MOUNTAIN RECREATION AREA AUTHORITY.

This, then, is the budget I wrote about previously, the budget that Spirit Mountain Executive Director Renee Mattson and the Spirit Mountain board refused to let me see. It is easier for the board, apparently, if they can take the budget from the boardroom directly to the consent agenda without having to show it to any pesky members of the public en route.

Although the budget was approved by the Spirit Mountain board on March 19, it didn’t show up on the council’s consent agenda until twenty days later—only five days before the council’s scheduled vote. Where we could have had a good three weeks to contemplate the budget, we now only have five days.

Not that Resolution 224 offers much to contemplate, budget-wise. Although the total amount of Spirit Mountain’s budget is mentioned ($4.7 million), the budget itself, reduced to its various components, is not included. This is because Spirit Mountain has decided that the only way anyone may see their full budget is to file a Data Practices Act request.

Fortunately, Duluth News Tribune reporter Brandon Stahl recently filed such a request. He received a copy of Spirit Mountain’s budget, which he posted on his own blog—here.

Reading on in Resolution 224, the first paragraph more or less reiterates the title, adding the detail that the capital repair and replacement budget is $225,000. This money, which comes from the tourism tax fund, goes to pay off bonds for past improvements. Under a 2003 agreement, the city will pay Spirit Mountain this money until 2012, when the bonds are retired.

The inclusion of the $225,000 with the rest of the budget introduces a strange dynamic to Resolution 224. Although the city council has never been inclined to vote against Spirit Mountain’s budget, theoretically the option is there. This oversight allows the city to ensure that Spirit Mountain conducts its business in a manner that meets with the city’s approval.

With the $225,000, however, the city council doesn’t have a choice. The capital repair and replacement budget must be approved if the city is to remain current on its obligations. This is made clear in the “Statement of Purpose” section near the end of Resolution 224: “This budget includes a $225,000 repair and replacement capital plan which must be approved per the 2003 refinance agreement.”

Thus, we have a situation where an item that must be approved is included in the same piece of legislation as another item that Spirit Mountain wants approved. When the council approves the $225,000, the budget also receives a green light.

This is a very efficient way of conducting business, don’t you think? But why stop with the budget? Why not attach any requests you might have to legislation that you know the council will approve? Voila! Instant wish fulfillment, guaranteed.

“FURTHER RESOLVED,” begins the second paragraph of Resolution 224,

the city acting through the city treasurer shall make available a line of credit up to $350,000, to be drawn upon as needed, to assist in the management of cash flow within the budget as approved…

Wait a minute. Where did this come from? A $350,000 line of credit is a pretty big thing. Rereading the resolution, I see no mention of it in the title.

Every item in a resolution should be clearly stated in the title—especially when we’re talking about city funds. I shouldn’t have to tell anybody this. Council resolutions are drawn up by the city attorney’s office. Don’t they know how to do their own job?

And when did this request happen, by the way? This is the first I’ve heard of it. Replaying the tape of the most recent board meeting, I hear no mention of it in their discussions. Yet here it is, tucked into the same resolution as the budget, which implies that the board approved both.

Did they? Or did Renee Mattson just decide to stick it in there on her own?

This isn’t the first time a line of credit has been requested. One year ago, when its 2008 budget was approved, Spirit Mountain also found itself the lucky recipient of a $250,000 line of credit from the city. The format of that request was identical to the format of this year’s—language tacked onto the end of a budget request without being mentioned in the resolution title. Clearly, Spirit Mountain has a friend in the city attorney’s office.

When it comes to getting things done in Duluth, social standing seems to be more important than anything else. The Spirit Mountain board merely acquiesces with whatever Renee Mattson puts forth—not because they are careless or irresponsible, but because she is respected in the community.

Likewise, I expect the city council to approve Spirit Mountain’s budget (and the $350,000 line of credit) unanimously, without discussion, as they did last year. I bring these matters up only because I think they deserve explanation, not because I hold out much hope of sparking reform.

On October 16, 2008, as a natural outgrowth of my research on the Great Lakes Aquarium, I began attending board meetings of the Spirit Mountain Recreation Area Authority.

Spirit Mountain and the aquarium have much in common. Both are large tourist attractions. Both are state authorities. Both are subsidized by Duluth’s tourism tax. Both have former city finance directors on their boards (Les Bass is at the aquarium, Todd Torvinen at Spirit Mountain) and both have family connections as well—Terry Mattson, executive director of Visit Duluth, is a board member at the aquarium; Renee Mattson, Terry’s wife, is executive director of Spirit Mountain.

Whereas aquarium board members have come to expect my presence at their meetings, it may have been something of a surprise to the Spirit Mountain board to have me auditing the proceedings with a tape recorder.

After my first meeting, I asked Renee Mattson for copies of the documents that the board had discussed and voted on. This included a memo from Johnson Controls to Mattson discussing “funding solutions” for Spirit Mountain’s master plan. The memo also contained language setting Johnson Controls’ initial consulting fee for Spirit Mountain at $70,000.

Johnson Controls, of course, is better known for its role in perpetuating and profiting from the Duluth School District’s enormously expensive Red Plan.

At first, Mattson said I couldn’t have the memo because she hadn’t signed it yet. I informed her that the memo had been approved in a public meeting of a public authority, and that the memo was public property. If she needed to sign it, she could do so now. If she needed a pen, I could give her one.

Renee was not happy with me, I could tell, but she finally relented and gave me a copy of the memo. In following meetings, I had no trouble getting copies of documents discussed by the board. Until it came time for the board to discuss their budget. And that is where today’s story begins.

The first thing I noticed when I strolled into the Fireside Room on March 19, 2009 was that everyone seemed a little cranky. It was nothing overt, just a hint of sullenness lurking around the edges of things. I chalked it up to the long winter and the absence of alcohol. At previous meetings, an attractive selection of beer and wine had always been set out on a side table for all to enjoy post-meeting. At Christmastime, there had been eggnog. Today, the side table was bare. I could feel the board members’ pain.

Board Chair Nancy Nelson called the meeting to order. Director of Finance Jen Carlson delivered a short report on the month’s financials.

“February kind of hurt us,” commented Mattson. She went on to say that they would see a boost in revenue when Visit Duluth paid Spirit Mountain their half of the money for Spirit Mountain’s winter advertising campaign. “They have an outstanding bill with us of about $42,000.”

Well, that was interesting. Officially, Spirit Mountain’s share of the tourism tax is $225,000 a year, which it uses to repay bonds. Spirit Mountain supporters have begun lobbying the city for this amount to be increased, saying that the original intent of the tourism tax legislation entitles Spirit Mountain to more. But according to what Mattson was saying, Spirit Mountain is already getting more. Anything that Visit Duluth pays to Spirit Mountain is tourism tax money, because Visit Duluth’s budget comes from the tourism tax. So perhaps Spirit Mountain doesn’t need an increase after all.

When Carlson finished, Mattson passed around copies of Spirit Mountain’s annual budget. Unlike most governmental entities, which begin their fiscal year on January 1, Spirit Mountain’s fiscal year runs from April 30 to April 30. The board approves the budget, which then goes to the city council for a vote.
  
“The budget for this year has been a little bit challenging,” Mattson said. Payments to employees’ retirement accounts were scheduled to increase, as was the minimum wage. Furthermore, the ski hill was losing about $3,000 a year providing childcare to its customers. To build revenue, Mattson intended to eliminate the childcare perk and turn the space into a small “slopeside bar.”

The budget also had a few blank spaces and, according to Mattson, “a few errors.” She explained that she hadn’t had time to tally up all the revenue derived from group ticket sales, though she expected the number to be “somewhere between $90- and $110,000.” There were also some unresolved numbers relating to Spirit Mountain’s utility costs.

The board didn’t seem to mind. Todd Torvinen suggested they approve the budget “subject to minor corrections.”

Nancy Nelson: Do we need to make any amendments to it or just approve it?

Renee Mattson: Approve it as is and I’ll get you the changes. How about that? I mean, I…because we need to move ahead with the city. Just approve it in concept and I’ll get you those tweaks. How’s that sound?

Nelson: We don’t need any changes to the wording? Okay. There’s been a motion to approve the budget in concept. All those in favor, say Aye.

All: Aye.

I have been to a lot of board meetings, but this was the first time I had ever heard of a budget being approved “in concept.” What did that mean? Either you had a budget, with specific numbers that you could point to, or you didn’t. By voting to approve the budget “in concept,” the board seemed to be giving Mattson permission to complete the budget at some point in the future with whatever numbers she thought were necessary.

To me, this sounded highly peculiar, possibly illegal. How could the board of a state authority approve its budget without knowing what it was? To me, filling a gap of $110,000 sounded like more than a “tweak.”

When the meeting adjourned, I approached Board Chair Nelson and asked her for a copy of the budget. Before Nelson could respond, Renee Mattson jumped in and said, “You can’t have it.”

I was quite annoyed by this. “What do you mean, I can’t have it? It’s the budget.”

“It’s not finalized.”

“The board voted on it, so it’s public.”

“What the board voted on was not the final version. It’s not what will be going to the city council.”

“Well, I just want a copy of what the board voted on.”

“Well, you’re not getting it.”

“It’s a public vote at a public meeting of a public board, so the document is public property.” I was taken with a sense of déjà vu.

“File a Data Practices Act request, then!” Mattson snapped, going all tough guy on me.

Well, wasn’t that nice? I couldn’t even think where to start. In the first place, Mattson has no authority—none—to declare documents off-limits. She is the executive director of Spirit Mountain. She is not a board member. The board exists to oversee her, not the other way around. By withholding documents, Mattson was vastly overstepping her bounds.

As I began to explain this, Mattson launched into a tirade. “You know what I want you to do?” she said. “I want you to get your facts straight! ‘The Paradox of Tourism’! Tourism generates millions of dollars for this community! You as a cab driver probably owe your job to tourism!”

Apparently, Renee had slipped off the deep end. Nothing she said had anything to do with the situation at hand. Get my facts straight? I wanted to get my facts straight. That was why I wanted to see the budget. My profession was irrelevant—though it was nice to know that Renee read my blog.

And what, you might ask, was the board doing all this time? Some had risen from their seats and begun to mill about the room, but Board Chair Nelson and Board Member Will Munger stood on either side of Renee Mattson and listened carefully as she barked at me. Munger and Nelson are noted progressives and activists in the community. One might think they would stand up for the right of a citizen to inspect a public document, but alas, one would be wrong. As Mattson angrily wrapped up her lecture, Nelson and Munger said nothing at all, and silently turned away.

So why doesn’t Spirit Mountain want me to see their budget?

Anyone?