I Get Checked Out
From James Donahue’s Journal
Not long after my arrival at Sandusky, I experienced four occasions where I was “checked out” by certain people in interesting circles. All four apparently were interested in finding out if I was going to be a threat to their way of operating, or if I perhaps could be drawn into their circle.
The first was an unexpected invitation by Sheriff Ross Dundas to accompany him on a nighttime police search for a felon-at-large in the Brown City area. I thought it was a great opportunity to get to know the sheriff and since I was invited along, believed I was going to be on the inside for what might turn out to be a major news story.
What happened was that I was interrogated by Dundas during the drive, and when we got to the area, we just drove around on some country roads as the sheriff talked to his deputies over his car radio. The man they were searching for had not committed a major crime and he fled on foot. Conducting an extensive hunt like that was a waste of everybody’s time. They knew who they were looking for. All they had to do was wait at his front door for him to get tired and return home.
I later learned there was probably a good reason why my arrival worried that sheriff. It seems that many of the long-time elected county officials, and especially Sheriff Dundas, were openly practicing nepotism. They had a great racket going by hiring members of their family to fill vacancies in their offices, and paying them well. Dundas, for example, had two sons working as deputies, his wife was the jail matron and cook, and the wife of one of his sons was the daytime dispatcher. It took me a few months to catch on to what was going on.
Walter Behn, a man who had been the county clerk for years and years, also had his wife and other relatives working in his office. This seemed to be going on in other offices too.
The problem with blowing the whistle on all of this nepotism was that in doing so, I would probably be cutting myself off from easy access to the news I was hired to write about. I depended on the dispatcher in the sheriff’s office to keep me linked to all of the police, fire and emergency agencies in the county. All of the files from the Circuit Court were kept in the clerk’s office. I had to be on friendly terms with everybody in both of these departments to have open access to all those records.
The bottom line was that even though I knew what they were doing, I had to keep my mouth shut and my keyboard silent.
Two other people that checked me out were more interesting.
Dr Gerald Groat, a prominent Sandusky physician and a man we had already chosen to be our family doctor, stepped into my office for a surprise visit. He invited me to come along with him on a drinking party with friends and suggested that he could introduce me to some hot women if I was interested in running with his crowd. I declined the invitation and explained to Doctor Groat that I joined the church and stopped drinking some years earlier, and was faithful to my wife. I later learned that Groat was known in the area as a womanizer and an alcoholic.
What I told him that day didn’t seem to stop the doctor. He told me how happy he was to have somebody with “brains” in town and invited me to his home for a visit. I accepted, thinking that it would be interesting to develop a personal friendship with a local doctor. When I showed up, Groat was alone at home. I had expected to meet his wife and family, if such existed. We sat in his kitchen. I don’t remember everything we talked about, but I know the invitation was repeated to get involved with some of his exploits. I gave him the Christian plan of salvation and invited him to accept Jesus before leaving the house. That put an end to that peculiar relationship.
My third visitor was a man I only remember as George. He also was a relatively prominent person in the area, active in the Sanilac County Historical Society and other civic organizations, and someone I met soon after beginning my Sanilac County beat. George came into my office one day to visit, which seemed odd because he didn’t appear to have anything specific to talk about. After a while he asked me if I would be interested in interviewing a drug dealer. I asked what he meant by that. George said he could put me in contact with such a person willing to be interviewed for a news story if I would agree not to disclose this person’s identity. I told him that if I knew the identity of such a person I would report it to the police. I said I was opposed to narcotics trafficking, would do nothing to promote this kind of criminal activity and was not interested in writing such a story.
It occurred to me after he left that George was testing me to see if I was interested in submitting to the local drug culture. Being introduced to a supplier was among the strangest of the temptations that rolled my way during those first months on the job.
The fourth person to look me over was John Patterson, a prominent local lawyer. That man began inviting me to his office for “friendly” chats. I accept the invitations at first, thinking that Patterson had a news tip. But it turned out that he spent the time subtly pumping me for anything I might know that was going on under the smoke of the daily news beat. He apparently wanted to know what I knew about things I should not know about. I will have more to say about Mr. Patterson later .
From James Donahue’s Journal
Not long after my arrival at Sandusky, I experienced four occasions where I was “checked out” by certain people in interesting circles. All four apparently were interested in finding out if I was going to be a threat to their way of operating, or if I perhaps could be drawn into their circle.
The first was an unexpected invitation by Sheriff Ross Dundas to accompany him on a nighttime police search for a felon-at-large in the Brown City area. I thought it was a great opportunity to get to know the sheriff and since I was invited along, believed I was going to be on the inside for what might turn out to be a major news story.
What happened was that I was interrogated by Dundas during the drive, and when we got to the area, we just drove around on some country roads as the sheriff talked to his deputies over his car radio. The man they were searching for had not committed a major crime and he fled on foot. Conducting an extensive hunt like that was a waste of everybody’s time. They knew who they were looking for. All they had to do was wait at his front door for him to get tired and return home.
I later learned there was probably a good reason why my arrival worried that sheriff. It seems that many of the long-time elected county officials, and especially Sheriff Dundas, were openly practicing nepotism. They had a great racket going by hiring members of their family to fill vacancies in their offices, and paying them well. Dundas, for example, had two sons working as deputies, his wife was the jail matron and cook, and the wife of one of his sons was the daytime dispatcher. It took me a few months to catch on to what was going on.
Walter Behn, a man who had been the county clerk for years and years, also had his wife and other relatives working in his office. This seemed to be going on in other offices too.
The problem with blowing the whistle on all of this nepotism was that in doing so, I would probably be cutting myself off from easy access to the news I was hired to write about. I depended on the dispatcher in the sheriff’s office to keep me linked to all of the police, fire and emergency agencies in the county. All of the files from the Circuit Court were kept in the clerk’s office. I had to be on friendly terms with everybody in both of these departments to have open access to all those records.
The bottom line was that even though I knew what they were doing, I had to keep my mouth shut and my keyboard silent.
Two other people that checked me out were more interesting.
Dr Gerald Groat, a prominent Sandusky physician and a man we had already chosen to be our family doctor, stepped into my office for a surprise visit. He invited me to come along with him on a drinking party with friends and suggested that he could introduce me to some hot women if I was interested in running with his crowd. I declined the invitation and explained to Doctor Groat that I joined the church and stopped drinking some years earlier, and was faithful to my wife. I later learned that Groat was known in the area as a womanizer and an alcoholic.
What I told him that day didn’t seem to stop the doctor. He told me how happy he was to have somebody with “brains” in town and invited me to his home for a visit. I accepted, thinking that it would be interesting to develop a personal friendship with a local doctor. When I showed up, Groat was alone at home. I had expected to meet his wife and family, if such existed. We sat in his kitchen. I don’t remember everything we talked about, but I know the invitation was repeated to get involved with some of his exploits. I gave him the Christian plan of salvation and invited him to accept Jesus before leaving the house. That put an end to that peculiar relationship.
My third visitor was a man I only remember as George. He also was a relatively prominent person in the area, active in the Sanilac County Historical Society and other civic organizations, and someone I met soon after beginning my Sanilac County beat. George came into my office one day to visit, which seemed odd because he didn’t appear to have anything specific to talk about. After a while he asked me if I would be interested in interviewing a drug dealer. I asked what he meant by that. George said he could put me in contact with such a person willing to be interviewed for a news story if I would agree not to disclose this person’s identity. I told him that if I knew the identity of such a person I would report it to the police. I said I was opposed to narcotics trafficking, would do nothing to promote this kind of criminal activity and was not interested in writing such a story.
It occurred to me after he left that George was testing me to see if I was interested in submitting to the local drug culture. Being introduced to a supplier was among the strangest of the temptations that rolled my way during those first months on the job.
The fourth person to look me over was John Patterson, a prominent local lawyer. That man began inviting me to his office for “friendly” chats. I accept the invitations at first, thinking that Patterson had a news tip. But it turned out that he spent the time subtly pumping me for anything I might know that was going on under the smoke of the daily news beat. He apparently wanted to know what I knew about things I should not know about. I will have more to say about Mr. Patterson later .