A summer whodunnit set in Troy

The negative fallout of the Reo-Rizzo reign continues to drop on the Troy city school district and its long-suffering taxpayers like pollution drifting in from Midwest factories. 

While Armand Reo was in charge of the education of the city's students during his years as school superintendent that began July 1, 1999, and Linda Rizzo was doing whatever it was she did as his No. 2 from that same date, the district was a poster child for poor management.

The Enlarged City School District of Troy, as it is formally known, repeatedly was cited by the state for failing to reach acceptable levels of achievement in various academic areas, and both private and state auditors found the Reo-Rizzo financial stewardship replete with instances of management that resulted in gobs of wasted money and resultant increases in property taxes to make up for it. 

Many of us thought that was behind us, once Reo and Rizzo left before the current school year. (Note: Both asked for contract extensions; neither got them, so they now characterize their departures as "retirements," Reo's on Dec. 31, 2004, Rizzo's on June 30, 2005) 

Unfortunately, Reo-Rizzo is like a recurrence of athlete's foot. Not lethal, but certainly uncomfortable. 

The diagnosis came in the latest audit by the office of state Comptroller Alan G. Hevesi that uncovered taxpayer-funded Christmas Presents Past for the "retirees." 

Simply put, auditors found that Reo and Rizzo were paid a total of $10,460 for unused vacation time when they left their jobs, time that exceeded the available leave of one and not authorized in the employment contract of the other. 

Not that they alone were criticized in the audit. Hevesi's people also found that the school district has a batch of procedural and bookkeeping problems, and the Board of Education came in for a few wrist slaps as well. 

Hevesi gives credit to Troy schools for implementing his staff's numerous suggestions for improvement, about which district Business Manager Jim Matthews wrote in his response to Hevesi, "The district agrees with the above recommendations." 

That's a good thing because, as is the case in many communities, the school district in Troy is a major economic force. It operates nine schools, has 720 employees, including substitutes, with a $35 million annual payroll, is spending a total of $70 million in the 2005-06 fiscal year, and virtually every penny of that comes in one form or another from taxpayers. 

The auditors examined the schools' internal controls for payroll process and information technology from July 1, 2004, through January 31, 2006. 

They discovered Reo had cashed in 11 unused vacation days, totaling $5,450, in excess of what was allowed under his employment contract and without prior formal board approval, which the auditors say is a no-no. 

They also discovered that Rizzo cashed in the maximum of 10 days of vacation leave allowed annually under her contract in June 2005, even though she only had a half-day available. 

How many of the taxpayers funding that move wouldn't have known if they'd gone nearly two work weeks over their vacation limit? 

The school district claims record keeping errors and says Rizzo reimbursed the district when she was informed of the error. She did. At the $65-a-day sick leave rate, rather than the $436-a-day vacation rate at which she was paid. 

We hope she's fully recovered now. 

The audit is not an isolated one. Hevesi said more than 170 school districts around the state are in the process of being audited, and the projection is for all 821 school districts, BOCES and charter schools to be audited within five years. It's all a result of extensive financial corruption in some Long Island school districts. 

In Rensselaer County, besides Troy, the districts presently being audited are Averill Park, Berlin, Brunswick, Hoosick Valley and Hoosick Falls. 

The school boards charged with overseeing them are examined as well. That's why the state audit found that the Troy Board of Education misguidedly decided to approve the extra money for Reo -- nearly a year after he got it and in contravention of his contract. It also did not exercise the control it is supposed to have over, among other things, internal security in the district payroll and other financial systems. As one result, the board has been told by Hevesi's office to pursue collection of any overpayment of leave benefits to which Rizzo was not entitled. 

The audit's findings are not as bad as they once would have been, so I'm encouraged that under Matthews and Superintendent Lonnie Palmer corrections are being made to get the district back on a sound management footing. We don't need the sorts of team effort foul-ups that put Troy in a hole to be repeated. Ever.

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How not to learn a lesson

When school districts in Rensselaer County put their proposed budgets before the voters in May, they did it with fingers crossed. 

Each year, school boards and district administrators who have worked together with citizen budget committee members to craft spending plans wait tensely to see how the vote will go.
 
There was a time when approval for the average school district budget was almost a no-brainer. That was then. This is now, a time in which we're all being jammed up directly or indirectly by the relentless demand for more money to meet state mandates, replace outmoded facilities and equipment, improve staff pay and benefit packages, and support non-classroom activities. 

One result is that budgets no longer get the easy OK. The winning margin this year was less than 100 votes in numerous school districts. Such razor-thin margins could easily have gone the other way if more than a tiny fraction of eligible voters had turned out. 

We need to be looking everywhere possible for inspiration on how to fix this funding mechanism that, if not utterly broken, certainly is about to pop some springs. 

One place to look might be just across the Hudson River in Saratoga County. Voters in the Mechanicville district -- some of whom reside in the Rensselaer County town of Schagticoke -- rejected the proposed budget. Twice. That triggered a state-mandated shift to a contingency budget for the 2006-07 school year, under which the school board cut $719,000 that would have funded interscholastic sports. 

Mechanicville folks are rather proud of their school's athletic prowess, so sports booster clubs and others pitched in to raise money to support the teams. 

I can understand their interest in sports, having played on several teams in high school and college and spending a few early-career years as a sportswriter. And, I recognize the value of competition, teamwork and physical fitness that can stem from such activity. 

However, I also recognize the value of having a full teaching staff, a comprehension of fiscal realities, and the setting of real-world priorities. The first phase of sports support had an $84,000 target. 

Something in the range of another $125,000 or so will be needed for winter and spring sports. No word yet on what sort of fundraisers the district's residents might be planning to restore teaching and other positions the contingency budget cut, but at least the jocks and cheerleaders will be taken care of. 

Mechanicville sports fans have expressed happiness the $84,000 target was reached. If they could recognize the pathetic irony in how that was accomplished, they wouldn't. The fundraisers, you see, collected just $74,000. State Sen. Majority Leader Joe Bruno of Rensselaer County, who also represents Mechanicville, kicked in the other $10,000 from the taxpayer-funded slush fund to which he has uncontrolled access. 

In other words, Mechanicville residents twice voted not to have to pay taxes that would have supported the school budget as proposed, but Bruno decided in his wisdom that it was just fine to shovel taxpayers' money into his district so kids could play games. 

What a lovely incentive for people who want to work the angles to get what they want as long as other people pay for it. What a constructive life lesson.

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Tourism could aid local future

If you had to fork over 84 cents of every dollar you make, that last 16 cents would be very precious to you. 

That's the situation in which Rensselaer County finds itself. State and federal mandates for such things as Medicaid account for 84% of the county's spending. 

County Executive Kathy Jimino has been able to propose budgets that have kept big tax increases at bay for quite a while, the last seven of them relying on a fund balance to get through. But, that balance is getting low even while the costs of doing business keep going up, and there is no sign of significant reductions in mandates.

Absent some sort of financial windfall or very large business developments, the usual suspects -- you and I -- will be footing a bigger county tax bill than ever one of these days. Where does the county go from here for money? A new report from its Economic Development and Planning office, titled "Untapped Retail Opportunity in Rensselaer County," tells us where Jimino's head is at. 

Retail is seen as the potential cure all for economic woes in most parts of the Capital Region. At first glance, that would seem to be a legitimate mind-set for Rensselaer County. Although largely rural in nature -- which often means a lower average income, it has seen a phenomenal 78% increase in average household income in the past 15 years, according to that report. 

That might seem a questionable statistic in view of the fact that population has slightly declined in that same period, but it could mean some people of higher income are moving here while a greater number of those of lesser means are leaving or expiring. 

According to the same report, 43 cents of every retail dollar spent by county residents is spent outside the county. To counter that, the Jimino administration has reduced the county sales tax on clothing and shoes (tax-free up to $110 per item) to provide one attractant to businesses looking to stay in or move to Rensselaer County. But, that's a bit of a gamble. 

"We look at it as a short-term loss of tax revenue that eventually will be made up by more retail business being conducted here," Jimino said. If the county can't lure enough high-end retail stores, the gambit will have to be changed. 

Recapturing some of the "estimated sales leakage," as the Economic Development and Planning report calls it, is a worthy goal. It estimates nearly $264 million of county residents' dollars is pouring into retailers' coffers in nearby counties, primarily Albany and Saratoga, and across state lines into the upscale retail groupings in Vermont (think Manchester) and Massachusetts (think Lee). 

The financial need is complemented by consumer demand. A 2005 survey of county residents by Research & Marketing Strategies cited the desire for department stores (57.5%) and clothing and accessories stores (42.5%) light-years ahead of the demand for general merchandise stores which, unfortunately, is what the bulk of retail development has been so far. 

Rensselaer County, however, needs to do more than simply hope retailers will come here. It needs to do much more in the way of exploiting resources it already has, such as improving tourism. 

The county often is viewed by outsiders as a place to quickly drive through on Route 7 to get to Vermont or on I-90 to get to the Berkshires and beyond to see precisely the same things this county has in abundance -- picturesque farms, quaint small towns, topographic beauty. 

In the fall of 2004, Troy native Bill Larkin, the Republican state senator from Cornwall on Hudson, shepherded a bill into law to legitimize "farm trails." The idea was to take a lesson from the booming wine trails that dot the state and help localities get serious about showing off their wares for fun and profit. 

As Larkin explained at the time, the idea was to create a network of farm trails -- including apple trails and gourmet trails -- to take advantage of local food and beverage producers who could be the drawing cards for tourists. 

Given Rensselaer County's success with four different farmers' markets and its large number of artisanal agricultural enterprises -- cheesemaking, organic produce, dairy, orchards, honey producers -- as well as B&Bs, restaurants and parkland, it seems ideally suited for a farm trail that leads visitors to more than a single destination. The trails would be identified by a series of roadside signs, with visitors on self-guided tours using them along with handout literature and Web downloads to experience what various localities have to offer, spending money as they do so. 

We've got it, now we need to flaunt it. 

Put another way, if you promote it, they will come.

Tutunjian judge-ment is woefully naive

Allergies, that's what it must be. Full-blown springtime allergies, caused by pollens and seeds that fill some people's heads with fuzzy feelings and cloud their judgment.

What else would satisfactorily explain young Harry Tutunjian's apparent desire to become an old-fashioned politician by making Troy City Hall a Home for Wayward Judges? 

The mayor's most recent fuzzy-headed appointment came when he decided that, in a region filled with more lawyers then there are crows along the Hudson River at sunset, the best person to be a new city deputy corporation counsel was Tom Spargo.

The same Tom Spargo who was removed from the State Supreme Court less than six weeks ago when the State Commission on Judicial Conduct found him unfit for the position. 

Getting a cushy part-time $25,000-plus job doesn't square with that sort of public record. And the audacity of the appointment is all the more shocking because it's not the first disgraced judge Tutunjian welcomed to the city payroll. 

He earlier had hired Henry Bauer, also as a deputy corporation counsel, after Bauer had been tossed off the City Court bench. Bauer then went on to begin rehabilitating his image, running for City Council and, as the highest vote-getter, becoming council president. 

Perhaps the mayor took that monumental act of voter irresponsibility as license to make any sort of cockamamie move he wants. If so, it's a huge disappointment to the many people who hoped the 30-something Tutunjian would add a breath of fresh air to Troy's storied and sordid political legacy. There is little reason to think such moves are anything but hack politics bobbing back to the surface. 

Tutunjian's own comments smack of little more than barely disguised contempt for being queried on the matter. How does he defend putting on the public payroll two men found unworthy of staying on the bench? Of hiring two men for jobs that could have gone to any one of dozens of other qualified people who didn't have tarnished records? 

Incredibly, Tutunjian says, "Their actions as judges shouldn't translate into how they represent the city." 

Pardon me while I take a deep breath. 

Mr. Mayor, the State Commission on Judicial Conduct fired Spargo for very specific reasons, to wit: 

"By engaging in a series of acts that conveyed an appearance of `exploiting his judicial office for personal benefit,' the respondent diminished public confidence in the integrity of the judiciary as a whole and has irretrievably damaged his usefulness on the bench." 

In addition to a bunch of small stuff that soiled the hem of his judicial robes, Spargo really muddied the rest of the fabric when he pressured lawyers bringing cases before him to contribute $10,000 in 2003 to his defense fund. 

Doesn't matter, says Tutunjian. 

"Tom Spargo is a talented, brilliant lawyer, and I am proud to have him be a part of my administration to represent the city in legal matters," he said with a perfectly straight face. 

And Bauer? He was removed after the State Court of Appeals voted 4-3 to do so when it found him guilty of repeatedly setting excessive bails, failing to inform defendants of their right to counsel and coercing suspects into pleading guilty. 

How about that one, Mr. Mayor? 

"To me, it doesn't mean anything," Tutunjian said. "We are searching for talented attorneys to help us run the city of Troy. To have someone of Mr. Spargo's caliber on our team is a bonus." 

In his public service announcements aimed at getting people behind his drive to clean up the city and effectively enforce building codes, Tutunjian likes to play the pride card. But, when it comes to disgraced judges and the city payroll, he isn't playing with a full deck.

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Careful, don't step in the slush

When it comes to local government, sometimes you just want to chuck it all and start from scratch.
We have a Rensselaer County Legislature and a county executive strutting around as if they've done something wonderful by putting on one of the worst performances in the history of budget creation.

We have communities in which elected government and citizen groups trade lawsuits like baseball cards, effectively immobilizing their municipalities.

We have a city government in Troy that effectively disenfranchises a chunk of the population because only the majority party is allowed a real say in creating a spending plan.

And, of course, we have Joe Bruno.

The Baron of Brunswick is a man who is happy only when everything is running precisely as he alone wishes it to run. If a member of the public or a news gathering organization asks for basic information, the state Senate majority leader flies into a snit. If a court rules that his actions are illegal and orders him to open up the books, he does, grudgingly and with many nasty utterances aimed at those who had the audacity to ask him to account for what happened to their money.

Let's pause here for the usual disclaimers about how much money Bruno has steered to local entities during his reign and, in the minds of some, how that buys him all the chutzpah we can swallow.

That's the first reaction from people who -- sometimes on their own, oftimes following a suggestion whispered in their ear -- have joined the cult of personality that thanks the senator for giving them your money by labeling such things as the Joseph L. Bruno Town Park in Hoosick Falls, Joseph L. Bruno Family Resource Center of the Commission on Economic Opportunity for the Greater Capital Region Inc., the Joseph L. Bruno Scholarship from the New York State Summer School of Orchestral Studies, the Joseph L. Bruno Theater in the Arts Center of the Capital Region, the Joseph L. Bruno Stadium at Hudson Valley Community College, the Joseph L. Bruno Pavilion at Saratoga Spa State Park, the Joseph L. Bruno Biotechnology Development Center at Albany Molecular Research, the Joseph L. Bruno Lobby in the Greenbush Area YMCA ... . I can't go on.

These, obviously, are the things Bruno didn't mind you knowing about. Lots of other projects and entities he steered your money to he wanted to keep secret.

I don't know about his universe, but in mine when you don't want anyone to know what you and your cohorts are doing with public dollars with which you've been entrusted, there can be only one reason: You're ashamed of your actions.

That's why the reluctantly released list of "2004-2005 member item" financial grants made by state senators -- the information Bruno insisted was none of your business until a judge overruled him - makes such good reading.

Some of it is almost comical in its linguistic sloppiness, which makes you wonder anew about the education level, or at least the typing skills, of our legislators and their staff. Witness this description for giving $20,000 of your money to the Cobleskill Agricultural Society via Sen. James Seward, and I quote it exactly:

"Funding to pour new concrete piers to prevent further shifting and sagging of flooring; replacing floor joists which are very warn and damaged and replace worn flooring to prevent dangerous consition where public and snimals could go through "

Don't step on the snimals.

Most descriptions of what your money is to be used for are so vague as to be useless, employing such weasel words as "program support," "equipment purchase" and, my favorite, "support for expenses and operations." Or wildly divergent prices are used for the same purposes, such as the popular "automated external defibrillators" -- or "defibtillator" as another legislative genius termed it, which we are told cost $1,800 each. Or, $2,500. Or, $3,000, or any other figure a senator cared to put on them. They've used them all.

Many other items doled out to private organizations by Bruno's Senate followers may make you wonder why your tax dollars should be so used. Like, $10,000 to Bella Italia Mia Inc. of Queens for, among other things, "funding for programs that promote a positive image of Italians"; or $100,000 to the Westchester Arts Council to underwrite the "Senator Spano Arts Festival" (guess who diverted the money for that event), or two different senators giving the Long Island Philharmonic separate grants of $10,000, $20,000 and $25,000 to fund activities that, according to the vague descriptions provided, essentially are duplicative.

Earning votes by performing public service is one thing. Buying them with my money is quite another. And, as the media, the good government groups and others dig into this swamp of mutual back-scratching, it will be fascinating to see what keeps surfacing.

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Plywood City a better nickname for today's Troy

There are only a couple of Yellow Pages listings under "plywood.'' I'm shocked. The longer I live in Troy, the longer I think its badly-outdated nickname, The Collar City, should be changed to The Plywood City. 

There are blocks in Troy where it seems there are more boarded-up buildings than there are populated structures. That may be OK in a truly temporary situation, but in Troy the plywood palaces have by default become an architectural style. 

Sheets of ugly wood covering doorways and window openings, many of them there so long their color has become weathered by the elements, are everywhere. The "s'' word immediately comes to mind when you travel down such streets. You fight against giving voice to the word because there are a few houses on these streets where people have made the effort to dab on some paint, plant a flower, sweep up trash. But the temptation to utter the "s'' word doesn't go away easily. 

It is made stronger by the plastic bags of trash that tend to pile up next to the plywood palaces. 

And the weeds that poke up in the cracked sidewalks near their foundations. 

And the grafitti. 

And the obvious fact not enough people care that the boundaries of such rundown neighhorhoods have a habit of spreading like a cancer in a community. 

So, we will surrender to the "s" word and call them what they are: Slums, or darned close to it. 

But what we don't do is give up. The situation can be remedied despite the feuding politicians of both major parties who spend more time playing "in your face'' with each other than grownups should. 

You see, incipient slum conditions don't know from party labels. They are not affected by whether people in power can get even for political slights that happened when they were out of the majority. Or by whether they can exact some sort of dominance over one another for no reason that has to do with the common good. 

Neither are such conditions affected by gratuitous budget squabbles, by term limit games, by weakly-researched park concession deals, or by any other time spent unwisely on such ego-centered scuffles. What those conditions are affected by is attention -- or the lack of it. If you leave them alone, they assuredly will worsen. Only the plywood manufacturers will prosper. The Plywood City and its people will lose. Guaranteed. 

If one spends time looking at the conditions in terms of zoning, public nuisance eradication, property values and community pride, the potential return on time spent on them by elected and appointed city officials should become obvious. In this nation, there are enough urban planners, lawyers and experienced municipal administrators to tap for methods to limit the time a building can be a plywood palace; moves that can require building owners to maintain properties to certain structural and esthetic standards; methods that can force compliance for the common good by the inevitable foot draggers. 

There are many communities that have enacted codes to act as the catalyst for pulling declining neighborhoods back from the brink of becoming permanent slums. Methods that have improved neighborhoods to the point people actually want to move to them and invest in their common future. 

Troy can use them as a guide to putting together a master plan to overcome this form of urban blight. No, not one of those boondoggle multi-million dollar master plans. Not one of those multi-year "blue ribbon panel'' efforts that bog down in minutiae. 

What is being suggested here is using the time now wasted on inter-party squabbles, on backroom politics devoted to nothing more than staying in power, for a real accomplishment: the sort of leadership, vision and achievement that starry-eyed voters dream about when they cross their fingers and cast their votes. 

Dear Politicians: If you truly believe your own political rhetoric about community quality, let the discussions begin.

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Bridging our isolationist tendencies

Rensselaer and Albany counties are connected by five bridges across the Hudson River. Thus, they are separated not by water, but by suffocating provincialism. That is why the revelation that the cities of Troy and Cohoes are exploring some sort of cooperative operations between their fire departments is such a breath of fresh air.
 
There will be formidable obstacles, real and manufactured, to attaining such a goal. That's life, but honest debate about any project can trump hardheadedness and strengthen the final product. We'll see a lot of grandstanding from the usual suspects who love to stroke their own egos in the spotlight, but we also will hear some thoughtful opinions and suggestions from people who have the public good in mind. 

Much is at stake here. The good residents of Troy and Cohoes, a pair of cities with long runs of financial woes and tough tax burdens, want top-notch fire protection but have to be able to afford it. 

The people who have doggedly supported regionalism as a way to streamline public service costs will be rooting for a success story to support their vision of the future. They're still smarting over the in-your-face silliness of battles between elected officials over minor league baseball venues, convention centers and the like. 

The money-people who would love to develop the riverbanks and environs for restaurants, upscale housing, marinas and the like but have been worn down by control-freak politicians and municipal red tape would see a cooperative arrangement as an enlightenment in local attitude. 

Blending services often takes on emotional overtones unrelated to efficiency. Take school district mergers. Please. 

History is replete with such mergers initially derailed by voters faced with the potential loss of such education staples as a sports program, a marching band or a cheerleading squad. I've already heard grumbling from Troy people who complain they'd give up something, real or imagined, by sharing services "over there in Albany County.'' 

Over there? To put it in perspective, the bridges linking the counties average just two-tenths of a mile each, the equivalent of a long city block. 

Much as the sheer guts of Troy and Cohoes officials to bring up such a topic should be applauded, why stop there? Troy connects to other Albany County communities as well -- Green Island and Watervliet, for examples. Why not work them into the initial equation? The proximity can't be disputed. The downtowns of Watervliet and Troy are connected by the Congress Street Bridge. And the Troy firehouse on 6th Avenue is closer to the new River's Edge apartment complex in Green Island than it is to Troy City Hall. 

Such examples abound. If accommodation can be reached for co-op fire service, why not examine trash hauling, ambulance services, housing inspections, public works departments. Even -- dare we say it? -- law enforcement? A regional police force certainly could be a cost-cutter, and improve services in such local trouble spots as the City of Rensselaer and its cesspool of police woes. 

The Hudson River is a wonderful resource for the Capital Region. But it also has, in the minds of many people, become a wall between communities. 

That sort of antiquated thinking is as arbitrary and man-made as are municipal boundaries on a map. People and their proximity to each other is the key to vibrant regions. We're long overdue around here to address it. 

Cheers to the Troy and Cohoes leaders for at least looking into what they know will be a political hot potato.

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