Police Raid on Newspaper Office Brings a Grim Reminder
The raid on the Marion County Record isn't just about a handful of agencies, but any government agency who abuses its power.
Matt Taibbi wrote in his book "Hate Inc., Why Today's Media Makes Us Despise One Another" about how reporters used to be predominantly people from a working-class background. That is, until the release of a noteworthy film in 1976 about the Watergate scandal.
"When journalism became cool after All the President's Men, upper-class kids suddenly wanted in," Taibbi wrote to open Chapter 11. "Previously a rich American kid wouldn't have wiped his tuchus with a reporter." (“Tuchus” is a euphemism for a person’s rear end.)
The fact that journalism is now dominated by upper-class types at the mainstream outlets is a major explanation (though not the only one) for why so many Americans no longer trust the media.
But even in this day and age in which Americans are angry at many journalists, these same Americans would likely say that the last thing you do is to have police officers raid the offices where journalists work and the homes in which they live.
Which brings me to the story of a small-town newspaper (yes, they still do exist) being subject to a search warrant from the local police.
The Marion County Record, located in Marion, Kan. (a town of less than 2,000 people), had its offices searched by Marion city police officers and Marion County sheriff's deputies. Law enforcement seized computers, cell phones and other equipment, plus various records on file. They also went to the home of owner and publisher Eric Meyer and his mother Joan Meyer, plus the home of Marion vice mayor Ruth Herbel.
The reasoning: Police claimed an investigation into identify theft of a local restaurant owner. The story behind this apparently stems from a political dispute, which led to the paper receiving documentation about the owner's driver's license status.
To sum up the events: Marion County Record staff members were invited by U.S. Rep. Jake LaTurner's staff to attend a town hall meeting at the restaurant. * Those Record staff members were told to leave by Marion Police Chief Gideon Cody, at the request of restaurant owner Kari Newell.
After the incident, Record staff received through social media documentation which claimed that Newell had a DUI conviction and was driving her car without a license. This came as Newell was seeking a liquor license for her business.
Record staff performed a records search to verify the information, but the staff ultimately chose not to publish a story, believing somebody leaked the information on behalf of Newell's husband, who had filed for divorce. Eric Meyer then notified police.
During a public city council meeting regarding Newell's license application, Newell claimed the newspaper had illegally obtained the information about her. Newspaper staff then wrote a story, pushing back against Newell's claim. * (Per the Kansas Reflector, Newell wrote a Facebook post admitting to the DUI and having driven a car without a license "out of necessity.")
Then came the raid by police officers. The day after the raid, Eric Meyer's mother Joan, who was 98 years old, died. Meyer blamed the stress of the raid, saying it caused her to refuse to eat or sleep.
The troubling aspect about the raid was that police officers had other means to obtain the information they sought, such as a subpoena to the newspaper for the information sent via social media about Newell. They also could have requested that information from Herbel, who requested the documentation from the paper prior to the city council meeting.
Instead, law enforcement took drastic measures. The whole operation is reportedly under the purview of the Kansas Bureau of Investigation, whose director, Tony Mattivi, more or less backed the raid. From a statement shared by the Reflector:
“In order to investigate and gather facts, the KBI commonly executes search warrants on police departments, sheriff’s offices, and at city, county and state offices,” the statement read. “We have investigated those who work at schools, churches and at all levels of public service. No one is above the law, whether a public official or a representative of the media.”
"No one is above the law" is a remark that is often made about investigations and criminal charges. Case in point: It's been used by government officials regarding the charges that former President Donald Trump is facing. I will leave it at that and allow you to draw your own conclusions.
But that aside, the decisions by law enforcement to raid a newspaper's office for information that, from all indications, was passed on to staff from another party is alarming.
While All the President's Men might have made journalism seem like a glamorous job to upper-class kids -- and a part of me wonders if this ordeal involving the Marion County Record has somebody already thinking about the movie rights -- in reality it's rather mundane. At small-town newspapers, it's mostly about sitting in on meetings, taking photos at county fairs, formatting police blotters and jail bookings (yes, people in small towns read those things) and following local sports teams. Once in a while, though, a major story comes along, one that requires more extensive reporting.
In my years of small-town reporting, I've written stories about a mass resignation at a volunteer fire department over complaints about their supervisors, a high school football player who was allegedly allowed to keep playing after a head injury and had to be rushed to an emergency room after the bus ride home, a massive wildfire that shut down a mountain pass and a nearby state park, a small-town bowling alley owner who was convicted of sexual assault (which included an extensive interview with the victim) and a school teacher who was fired over allegedly getting into a physical altercation with a student, in which some believed the teacher had been set up (that teacher later won a seat on the school board). I also worked with fellow staff members on a story about a local hospital cutting ties with its board of directors and abruptly firing a CEO who, weeks earlier, had announced his plans to resign.
If any upper-class kids who got smitten with reporting after watching a movie about the Watergate investigation think that this stuff is exciting, in reality, it's the type of stuff in which I often spend a lot of time with a pit in my stomach. I do the best I can with what I write, but sometimes wonder if there's something I missed or if I did the best job of accurately representing the story. Most of all, in plenty of cases, I knew some of the people involved and genuinely liked them.
And while it's nice to be complimented for your work, I get more than my fair share of people complaining about it. I've learned how to handle it over time, in which you do so as gently as possible but be firm that you need to do your job.
However, the one thing I can say I'm glad never happened is that somebody decided to raid my home or an office at which I worked to demand material be turned over. When law enforcement decides to take matters into its own hands when reporters are trying to do their jobs, that is abhorrent.
The decision to raid an office or home when law enforcement has other means to obtain material sends a message that Eric Meyer put thusly: “Mind your own business or we’re going to step on you.”
While I don't know all the details about what was said between Marion County Record staff and the restaurant owner, that events led to a police raid is pure insanity.
It's also a reminder about what it really means to back the principles of free speech -- and that includes speech you don't like or speech you don't agree with. That's a harsh reminder to upper-class kids who think this is about confirming their priors or becoming famous -- the job sometimes means you face unpleasant truths, even ones about people and things you like.
I do believe that the majority of people who have backed the Marion County Press truly believe in the First Amendment for everyone. However, for those who are jumping on the bandwagon because they think they can stick it to local law enforcement, this is your reminder that you better think twice before championing any federal or state agency for going after anyone you see as your political enemy.
As for what happened in Marion County, the law enforcement agencies involved have a lot to answer for. In this day and age of federal agencies demanding social media companies censor material the agencies don't like, alongside whistleblowers like Edward Snowden and Julian Assange being treated as criminals, the raid on the Marion County Record is another chilling reminder about what government abuse is all about -- and it's a reminder that one must push back against such abuse, regardless of who is the target.
* Note: For those who are upset about what happened, neither Jake LaTurner and his staff nor Kari Newell are to blame. LaTurner and his staff invited the Marion County Record to the appearance and never requested they leave the restaurant. And while one may disagree with Newell about her request or her stance on the issues, she is not the one responsible for a search warrant or police raid. I would ask that you read what Clay Wirestone of the Kansas Reflector has to say about the facts.