BY VANESSA McCRAY
December 04, 2007 11:23 am TRAVERSE CITY -- Rick Buckhalter's briefcase was bursting. The Traverse City resident toiled for several hundred hours in the fourth floor law library of the old, brick courthouse. He studied state statutes to bolster or disprove his case. He had no legal training. He held no elected office. But the government watchdog believed the city wasn't following its own charter, and he knew enough to research and corroborate his position. Buckhalter copied down everything he unearthed. "It got so voluminous that it bent the rivets of my briefcase...," he said. "I've learned that dealing with the past city commission, you have to document what happened." Buckhalter is a member of a small but zealous citizenry casting a skeptical eye on local government and going to great lengths to ensure accountability. These civic sentinels participate in the public process because they believe in social responsibility, to right a perceived wrong, or to balance political powers. They are sometimes successful, always tenacious. They spend hours note-taking, point-making, jawboning. "I come away feeling involved, and I'm pursuing the government to make sure that they are representing the issues of the people," said Buckhalter. Who Cares? The city commission chambers are rarely full on Monday nights, as Traverse City's seven elected officers make rules and spend money. A big development or neighborhood tussle might pack the room one week, but at most meetings, the few faces here are familiar. It's the same, sparse scene when other townships, cities and counties meet. "It's not a question of apathy; it's a question of connection," said David Mathews, president of the Charles F. Kettering Foundation based in Dayton, Ohio. The nonpartisan research foundation studies ways to strengthen democracy. Those involved in government do so out of self-interest, said Mathews, who served as U.S. Secretary of Health, Education and Welfare under President Gerald Ford. They might form a group or start a neighborhood safety watch, but once the problem goes away, so do the activists. "There are a few civic saints in the world, but most people are just practical, self-interested," Mathews said. The ones who do stick it out week-after-week, through zoning talks and flickering slide shows, cited many reasons that keep others from joining in government goings-on. Time is one. "They are working, trying to live, trying to survive," said Greg Reisig, an Elk Rapids environmentalist. "I think they are happy that someone else is working on it." Fear holds some back. "We've had fairly heated discussions and finger-pointing and name-calling, and things can get real nasty, and that can get very intimidating," said former Petoskey Mayor Ted Pall. A sense of hopelessness also discourages participation. "People just don't attend meetings because they know they can't make a difference," said Stephen Mikowski, a regular at Leelanau County and Leland Township board sessions. Government shares a responsibility to involve residents, said Traverse City Commissioner Deni Scrudato. Elected officials must be "accessible and approachable," she said. Bureaucratic efforts such as public hearings to increase involvement have not always worked as hoped, said Mathews. Success occurred when officials left city hall and went where people congregate. "It's real easy for elected officials to say, 'No people come to the meetings,'" said Pall. "I think there's a lot of burden on the elected officials." "I don't think people should have to go to every council meeting. That's why we elect people," he said. Community Crusaders At the time, Fred LaPoint had no clue that a plan for a coal-fired power plant sited near his Manistee home would launch him into the role of community activist and vault him to Internet fame. The firefighter joined up with others to wage and win a war to stop Tondu Corp.'s proposed plant, which they feared would fill their city with harmful smoke, pollution and mercury. The battle began around 2003, but years later LaPoint, now in Bear Lake, can search his name online and find his quotes in press interviews. "I think the results proved that even small groups of people that have a conviction and dedication ... can make a difference," he said. Curiosity about a Petoskey development proposal drove Pall to city planning meetings several years ago. The anesthesiologist later earned a term as mayor. No longer in office, he continues to attend meetings and closely review the city budget. "Citizens have an important role, and they can do a lot. A lot more than they think, probably," Pall said. A single voice can make an impact, agreed Reisig, who advocates on environmental matters throughout the region. Reisig doesn't go to every local meeting, but he keeps tabs on topics by talking to reporters, calling and e-mailing monitoring agencies and teaming up with citizen groups. He works in his hometown of Elk Rapids to protect wetlands, and residents elsewhere call him for help. Mikowski, a retired Lake Leelanau resident, grew intensely involved in local government in the early 1980s after an unsuccessful attempt to obtain a variance for a deck. This October, he asked the Leland Township board for the 134th consecutive time to direct the zoning board to grant the variance and to hold a vote on the 1996 zoning ordinance. "I won't give up. I am optimistic. I go to meetings because I believe people do hear things," Mikowski said. He copies publications to give to officials, prepares remarks to deliver to the boards and saves documents in files sorted by year. "The township even asked me for records that they don't have anymore," he said. When Mikowski was in the seventh and eighth grades, nuns at his Leelanau County school taught him about government and the Constitution. That fueled the development of a strong belief in limited government. Buckhalter's life in the civic realm began a few years ago, almost by accident. He heard about plans for a personal watercraft race in Traverse City. Buckhalter, who often swims in the bay, wanted to protest and marched to his first ever Traverse City commission meeting. That's when he heard about another issue that piqued his interest. From there, public participation became nearly compulsory. He has scanned the city charter about 20 times in whole or in part. He spends 10 to 15 hours weekly on city matters. It is time the former Lear Corp. employee has had in the wake of the plant's closing. "You get sucked into it. It's like you're unravelling a mystery," Buckhalter said. "If you miss a meeting, you are going to miss something and be lost." City sessions are broadcast on local cable TV, and Buckhalter's frequent public comments transformed him into a spokesman for others. Buckhalter said his phone rings regularly, and people stop him in the grocery store and about town hundreds of times a year. Many are strangers, and they just want tell him "thank you."
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