At Thursday’s Public Safety Town Hall, 172 Clallam County residents packed the Fairview Grange Hall for an unfiltered, two-and-a-half-hour exchange with local leadership. What emerged wasn’t just a discussion about crime—it was a revealing look at priorities, philosophies, and a growing disconnect between elected officials and the people they represent.

Democracy, Unfiltered

There was no moderation in the traditional sense. No curated questions. No guardrails.

Residents stepped up to the microphone one by one, asking direct, sometimes uncomfortable questions of those in charge. It was democracy in its most authentic form—raw, unscripted, and at times, tense.

The panel included County Commissioner Mike French, County Prosecutor Mark Nichols, Clallam County Sheriff Brian King, and Port Angeles Police Chief Brian Smith.

Of the three county commissioners, only Mike French attended. Commissioner Randy Johnson cited family obligations, and Commissioner Mark Ozias declined to participate. In a room full of constituents seeking answers, that absence was noticed. French’s willingness to show up, take questions, and stay for the full duration deserves acknowledgment.

A Clear Policy Framework

Throughout the evening, Commissioner French articulated a consistent governing philosophy centered on three pillars:

• A housing-first approach centered on continued investment in new units—often translating into high-cost developments for the homeless, like the nearly completed North View complex, featuring rooftop terraces and price tags approaching $350,000 per unit

• Support and possible expansion of harm reduction programs as a primary response to addiction

• A belief that increased tax revenue is necessary to solve the county’s challenges

His message was steady: the problems are complex, and the solutions require more resources, more infrastructure, and more government involvement.

A Moment That Defined the Night

One exchange crystallized the divide between the audience and the dais.

Jake Seegers asked attendees two simple questions:
First, whether public safety was a top priority. Nearly every hand went up.

Second, whether they felt safer today than they did four years ago.

Out of 172 people, only two hands initially rose.

Then a third hand went up—Commissioner Mike French.

The moment didn’t need commentary. That contrast spoke for itself.

Competing Views of Reality

Commissioner French outlined his understanding of the root causes behind the county’s challenges:

• Homelessness is primarily driven by high housing costs

• Economic disruption from COVID-era job loss continues to play a role

• Harm reduction is an effective pathway toward recovery and stability

• Crime, in his view, has not significantly worsened in recent years

For many in the audience, these explanations felt incomplete.

Repeatedly, residents raised concerns about drug use, repeat offenders, and the visible deterioration of public spaces. Yet the connection between addiction and crime—something many see playing out daily—was not directly acknowledged in French’s responses.

Law Enforcement’s Perspective

Sheriff Brian King offered a notably different tone.

He confirmed progress in addressing a squatter situation in the 6000 block of Old Olympic Highway in Sequim, including the recovery of stolen mail earlier that day. But more broadly, he pointed to a deeper issue:

We are not investing sufficiently in law enforcement, while increasingly potent drugs are devastating individuals and pushing them onto the streets.

It was a grounded, operational perspective—less about theory, more about what deputies are encountering in real time.

Public Spaces and Public Responsibility

When asked about conditions in parks—needles, tents, open drug use, and families feeling unsafe—French acknowledged the concerns but framed the issue in a broader social context.

Public spaces, he argued, are meant for positive activity. When they are underused by the community, negative behavior fills the void. The solution, in part, is for families to return and reclaim those spaces.

For many, it felt like responsibility was being shifted away from those tasked with maintaining safety.

“It All Starts With Arrest”

In one of the more notable statements of the night, French said:

“It all starts with arrest.”

The comment stood out, particularly given the county’s broader emphasis on harm reduction strategies that often deprioritize enforcement.

French also described the State v. Blake decision as an “abject failure,” raising an obvious question left largely unaddressed: what steps have been taken locally to restore accountability in drug enforcement? Have the commissioners sent a letter to Washington State legislators to push back or advocate for change?

Stories That Cut Through Policy

Perhaps the most impactful moments didn’t come from officials, but from residents.

Individuals shared deeply personal stories—of addiction, recovery, and loss. Parents spoke about children in the criminal justice system. Others described losing family members to overdose. Some spoke as people in recovery themselves.

These weren’t policy abstractions. They were lived experiences, offered in good faith to leaders in the hope of being heard.

One resident described living near the so-called “UnSafeway,” calling it a “vortex of crime” marked by break-ins, vandalism, and daily exposure to open drug use at the County’s Health and Human Services building.

Commissioner French’s response? The County plans to install fencing around its offices.

To many in the room, that felt less like solving a problem and more like moving it.

Enforcement, Accountability, and Open Questions

Questions also touched on environmental activists who caused significant damage to public land in an effort to delay a timber harvest last year. Prosecutor Mark Nichols declined to comment, citing an active case.

Nichols did confirm that a State Auditor fraud investigation involving the Shore Aquatic Center was referred to the Attorney General due to conflicts of interest, as Commissioners French and Johnson serve on the pool’s board.

These moments underscored a broader concern expressed throughout the evening: whether accountability is being applied consistently.

Economic Development and Missed Opportunities

Commissioner French acknowledged that Clallam County lacks strong private economic development.

But that raises a more fundamental question: why not focus first on attracting businesses themselves? When industry takes root, workforce training tends to follow organically. Without that foundation, training programs like Recompete risk preparing people for opportunities that simply don’t exist here.

Imagine how much more resilient our local economy could be if elected leaders fully leveraged existing laws and consistently enforced the rules already on the books—creating a stable, predictable environment where businesses feel confident investing, expanding, creating jobs, and strengthening the tax base the entire community relies on.

Taxes, Authority, and Public Trust

Commissioner French expressed support for increasing the local sales tax to fund public safety—something the commissioners could enact without a direct vote of the people.

That position mirrors broader efforts at the state level, where organizations like the Washington State Association of Counties (WSAC)—on whose legislative steering committee French serves—have pushed to raise the long-standing 1% cap on property tax increases, again without requiring voter approval.

Layered into that concern is a broader question of consistency and accountability. French has previously indicated a tolerance for property destruction when framed as part of broader social or political causes—an outlook that sits uneasily alongside calls for increased public funding and enforcement.

For many attendees, the issue wasn’t just about taxes. It was about process, trust, and whether major financial decisions—and the principles behind them—are drifting further from the voters they’re meant to represent.

Who Showed Up—and What It Revealed

Attendance from elected officials was limited. Of the seven Port Angeles City Councilmembers, only Amy Miller was present. In a county facing serious challenges around public safety, addiction, and economic stability, that absence did not go unnoticed.

But in many ways, that contrast helped define the evening.

Thursday night offered something increasingly rare: a clear, unfiltered look at both leadership and the community it serves. Residents asked direct questions. Officials gave candid answers. And in the space between the two, a broader divide came into focus—one not just about policy, but about how problems are understood and what solutions are prioritized.

For those who attended, the event wasn’t just informative—it was clarifying.

And while elected representation may have been sparse, community leadership was not.

A sincere thank you goes to the Calico Cat Social Club for hosting the event entirely on their own dime. No public funding. No government backing. Just engaged citizens who recognized a need in their community—and stepped up to meet it.

On a night centered around accountability and leadership, that example stood out.

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Today’s Tidbit

A recent letter to the editor in the Peninsula Daily News tackled several national hot-button issues. It’s a strong opinion—one that mirrors broader national debates—but also comes with some local context worth noting.

The author, Leah Leach, is the former longtime Executive Editor of the Peninsula Daily News and still contributes articles to the paper. That’s not mentioned in the letter. Opinion pieces are expected, but when a former top editor weighs in without that context, it raises fair questions about transparency and whether readers are getting the full picture of who’s speaking.

That matters more than it might seem. When someone who helped shape a newsroom’s voice continues writing in its pages, it can blur the line between personal opinion and institutional perspective. At a time when trust in media is already shaky, even small omissions like this can leave readers wondering how balanced things really are, and how balanced they were for years under Leach’s leadership.

In this Sundays With Seegers, County Commissioner candidate Jake Seegers highlights a pattern many residents may miss: while leaders say housing affordability is the county’s top issue, they continue raising permit, septic, and environmental health fees—adding costs to anyone trying to build or buy. Seegers points out these aren’t isolated increases, but a deliberate strategy of annual hikes plus periodic larger jumps—small enough to avoid backlash, but significant over time. The result: a steady squeeze on affordability that compounds year after year.

Another Fee Hike

At an upcoming meeting on April 21st, the Board of Health—including the county commissioners—will discuss an increased fee schedule for Clallam County Health and Human Services Environmental Health.

The proposed changes include fees for individual septic systems, water wells, and food handling, including event permits.

Environmental Health has proposed a 7.7% increase across the board, consisting of a 2.7% Consumer Price Index (CPI) adjustment and a 5% “technology fee.”

Following the Board of Health meeting, a public hearing will be held—likely in the last week of April—to gather input on the proposal.

Fees Undermine Home Affordability

The ability of Clallam residents to afford a home continues to erode. In 2018, the county’s median home price was $293,000; by 2024/2025, it had risen to approximately $525,000—a 79% increase. Over the same period, median household income grew just 29%, according to Federal Reserve Economic Data.

County leadership has acknowledged the severity of the problem.

During a July 8th, 2025 meeting, Commissioner Randy Johnson stated:

“In Clallam County, it continues to rise to probably the No. 1 issue for most county residents — the shortage of housing, and/or the affordability of housing, and/or the percentage of one’s income that one needs to allocate to help pay for housing.”

Commissioner Mark Ozias recently wrote to a constituent:

“The lack of affordable housing and a decayed social safety net… [are] leaving people without options.”

County Commissioner and Board of Health Chair Mike French offered additional context during a December 11th Clallam Bay/Sekiu Advisory Meeting:

“[We’re] pushing against the crosswind of the state building code and energy code that have made it a lot more expensive to build individual units. What was possible 20 years ago is very expensive now. The state has basically said, ‘We want you to be building really resilient, really low cost to maintain and low cost for utilities - we want that kind of house.’ And that has raised the initial cost very high and it’s tough on rural low-income areas. So there’s a lot of headwinds to push against.”

But taxpayers are also facing strong headwinds from their own county. Despite acknowledging the cost pressures created by state policy and the Climate Commitment Act, commissioners continue to compound the problem with increasing permit and licensing fees.

Fees as a Revenue Strategy

As part of the county’s “7% exercise” during 2025 budget discussions, Department of Community Development Director Bruce Emery proposed increases to permit and land division fees.

Those changes drove license and permit revenue up by roughly $300,000 in 2025, climbing from a relatively stable baseline of about $1 million in prior years.

Revenues are projected to increase by another $54,000 in 2026, largely due to additional DCD fee hikes.

During a July 29th, 2025 departmental budget meeting, Commissioner French supported the increases, stating:

“The building community would prefer reliability… and they are less sensitive to cost.”

But as fees rise, the burden ultimately falls on residents—many of whom are already priced out of building or buying a home.

Behind the Curtain: Internal Discussions on Raising Fees

What’s being proposed publicly is only part of the story.

During an October 15th, 2025 departmental budget meeting with commissioners, Department of Community Development Director Bruce Emery outlined a more detailed—and more strategic—approach to increasing fee revenue.

At one point, Emery acknowledged that even automatic fee increases tied to inflation may not currently be lawful without further action:

“We had instruction to work on our fee schedule… it turns out because this stuff is encoded in an ordinance, it requires an ordinance update before being legal.”

That raises a key question: if CPI-based increases require formal ordinance updates, how are ongoing adjustments being handled now?

The discussion quickly shifted from compliance to opportunity.

Emery pointed to specific areas where fees could be increased to generate more revenue—particularly mechanical permits, which cover common systems like furnaces, heat pumps, and ductless mini-splits. While individual permit fees in this category are often relatively small, they apply to a high volume of routine work, meaning even modest increases can add up quickly across the county.

“Our mechanical permit fees are pretty small and we have many of them… given the number of them that we do every year, [these fees] could have a substantial impact on our revenue.”

He also proposed expanding fees into new areas entirely—suggesting that IT-related services be built into permit costs:

“Include a technical service fee along with our permitting structure… that would increase revenues for IT and offset general fund necessity.”

County staff were explicit about the broader goal. Deputy CFO Rebecca Turner described the approach this way:

“We’re trying to think creatively this year… to come up with things [to raise fee revenue] that we haven’t thought of before.”

Even enforcement mechanisms were discussed as potential revenue drivers, including shifting more costs onto residents who challenge code violations.

Taken together, the conversation reflects more than routine cost recovery. It points to an active effort to identify, expand, and institutionalize new revenue streams—often through fees that residents have little ability to avoid.

[Watch the discussion here starting at 3:15:15.]

“If Your Friends Jump Off a Cliff…”

The commissioners, DCD, and Environmental Health often justify fee increases by benchmarking against other counties.

But permitting departments function as localized monopolies—there is no alternative provider for building, septic, or well permits.

Residents must either pay the fees, stop building, or leave.

In private markets, coordinated pricing among captive customers would be considered “collusion.” In county government, it’s policy.

Meanwhile, fees in states like Texas and Idaho are significantly lower than in Washington and Clallam.

Even the City of Port Angeles offers targeted fee exemptions, recognizing the impact of fees on affordability.

In stark contrast, a local Clallam County contractor recently received a $4,000 estimate from the Building Department for permits and fees to construct a pole barn—with no living space included.

“Cost Recovery” vs. Taxpayer Reality

The county also claims that it must justify the cost of providing services. But, these are services that are essential to citizens of the county.

Health Officer Allison Berry stated,

“A lot of the reasoning behind that is to make sure that costs are actually covered by the fee. There’s a pressure to avoid draining down the general fund for any of these programs. So if you can charge a fee to fund what we do, make sure that fee is adequate to fund those operations.”

But citizens already pay property and sales taxes to fund essential county services—including permitting. They also pay taxes to the state and federal government, some of which returns to the county through grants that often fund nonessential activities.

Addicted to Grants

From 2018 to 2024:

• Bellevue Consumer Price Index (CPI) rose 30.4% (used as Clallam’s benchmark)

• County tax revenues increased 39.3%

• Property tax revenue rose 17%

• County expenses surged 51.6%

• Federal and state grant revenue skyrocketed 125.7%

(Source: WA State Auditor’s FIT Tool)

The pattern is clear: spending is outpacing both inflation and revenue growth.

When grants decline, programs are rarely cut.

For example, the county continues funding WSU Extension at roughly $50,000 annually, even as grant sources like SNAP diminish. Rather than reduce spending, the county plans to offset the gap with $54,000 in additional fees in 2026.

Health Officer Berry articulated the county’s strategy of raising fees to sustain grant-funded programs,

“Similarly, with cuts at the state level, there’s not a lot of extra wiggle…they’re no longer funding the kind of grants we used to see to fill in gaps of our programs. So, now the only way to fund it is through the fees.”

With federal and state budgets under pressure, Clallam’s reliance on grant revenue has leaders scrambling to replace it—often through higher fees on local taxpayers.

Affordability at the Top

While fee increases erode housing affordability, elected and appointed officials continue to receive raises and benefits—despite earning well above the county median.

Forgoing those increases and vehicle perks would save taxpayers an estimated $224,000 in 2026 alone.

Instead of cutting programs as grants dry up or foregoing costly wage and benefit increases, county leaders have chosen to undermine housing affordability by passing these costs on to taxpayers through higher fees.

A Permanent Upward Ratchet

During the March 17th Board of Health meeting, Environmental Health staff indicated that fee increases are becoming a core part of the county’s budgeting approach:

“Last budget cycle, the CFO’s office requested CPI increases for fees across the county.”

In practical terms, this suggests the county is moving toward a two-tiered strategy: applying annual, across-the-board fee increases tied to CPI, while also implementing larger, department-specific increases every few years.

Commissioner French expanded on this approach:

“When you don’t update your fees on a regular basis, there’s big sticker shock when you do… We want to just have a pretty regular, reliable [increase]… We’re proposing to kind of re-look at that deep review every three years and in the off years, just try to take the CPI.”

In other words, fees will continue to rise annually—incrementally enough to avoid immediate backlash, but steadily enough to compound over time.

Until, eventually, many residents are priced out altogether.

What can you do?

Make your voice heard—before these decisions are finalized.

Email the Commissioners by contacting the Clerk of the Board at loni.gores@clallamcountywa.gov and let them know where you stand on increasing fees and decreasing affordability.

Show up in person on Tuesday, April 21st at the Board of Health meeting and provide public comment at 1:30 PM. Public input matters—especially when decisions directly impact the cost of living in our community.

If you don’t speak up now, these “small” increases won’t stay small for long.

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Editor’s Note: CC Watchdog editor Jeff Tozzer also serves as campaign manager for Jake Seegers during his run for Clallam County Commissioner, District 3. Learn more at www.JakeSeegers.com.

It was another busy week on social media—and beneath the surface of local headlines lies a pattern: selective storytelling, growing public safety risks, and a leadership class that increasingly avoids hard questions. From a controversial lecture series to the arrival of a powerful new street drug, Clallam County residents are being asked to accept narratives that don’t always match reality. Welcome to Social Media Saturday.

Rewriting the Past—or Leaving Parts Out?

It was another active week online, and one post in particular caught attention.

The Dungeness River Nature Center is promoting a new lecture series titled “Since Time Immemorial: A Revised History of the Peninsula.” The series aims to challenge commonly accepted timelines of early human presence on the Olympic Peninsula and includes a map depicting Klallam presence stretching from Clallam Bay to Port Townsend.

But there’s a notable omission.

The Chemakum Tribe—historically documented as having been nearly exterminated following conflict with the Klallam after their migration south from Canada—is absent from the narrative.

History, it seems, depends heavily on who is telling it—and what they choose to leave out.

“I Have a River”: Words That Matter

Meanwhile, on the national stage, tribal leadership was in Washington, D.C. this week.

According to Northwest Treaty Tribes, testimony was delivered to federal lawmakers, including remarks from W. Ron Allen, chairman and CEO of the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe:

“In the Northwest, fisheries and shellfish are our way of life.”

During his remarks, Allen added:

“I have a river called the Dungeness River and a bunch of creeks all around us that we’ve spent a lot of time restoring.”

That phrasing raised eyebrows locally.
Because while restoration work is real, the idea of any one individual or entity “having” a river speaks to a much larger and ongoing debate about control, access, and ownership of shared natural resources.

Watch Allen’s testimony here.

“Rhino Tranq” Arrives: A New Level of Danger

The most serious development this week came from the Clallam County Sheriff’s Office:

A new and extremely dangerous drug has been identified in the local supply.

Medetomidine—also known on the street as “rhino tranq”—has now been confirmed in substances believed to be fentanyl.

This is not a minor development. It’s a major escalation.

What makes this different

• Medetomidine is a powerful veterinary sedative

• It is 100–200 times stronger than xylazine

• It depresses heart rate, breathing, and blood pressure

• And critically: Narcan (naloxone) does NOT reverse it

That last point changes everything.

What that means for Clallam County

• Overdoses become harder to treat

• First responders face greater uncertainty

• Withdrawal becomes more severe and dangerous

• Standard harm reduction tools are less effective

This raises a direct and unavoidable question:

What is the plan now?

If harm reduction strategies are built on keeping people alive long enough to choose recovery, how does that model hold up when the drugs involved:

• Don’t respond to reversal agents

• Cause prolonged sedation and respiratory failure

• And introduce a level of unpredictability not previously seen

Medetomidine isn’t even reliably detected in standard toxicology screens. That means cases may be undercounted, misunderstood, or misdiagnosed.

This isn’t theoretical. It’s here.

And it suggests something else as well:

There is active, evolving drug trafficking reaching the Olympic Peninsula.

That reality deserves more than silence—or another funding request without a clear plan.

Build Something Instead of Breaking It

Last week’s Community Conversation with county commissioner candidate Jake Seegers was a success—so much so that the campaign ran out of yard signs.

[Click here to view the rental link for the former Coffee Box.]

Unfortunately, some of those signs are already being stolen or destroyed.

Here’s a simple thought:

If someone doesn’t support a candidate, the answer isn’t tearing down signs—it’s supporting someone else. Donate. Volunteer. Speak up.

Build something instead of breaking it.

That’s how you show the community there are better options.

The Library Levy: What Voters Should Know

The push for the North Olympic Library System levy increase is well underway—but voters should understand what’s actually being proposed.

This is not a temporary bump.

If approved:

• The levy resets at a higher base (around $7.8M–$8M)

• Then increases 1% annually, plus growth from new construction

• In practice, that’s about 2–2.5% yearly growth

Which means:

• 2027: ~ $8M

• 2028: ~$8.1M–$8.2M

• And rising from there

All while key usage metrics have declined since 2018:

• Fewer active cardholders

• Lower circulation

• Fewer visits

• Reduced online engagement

At the same time:

• Sheriff staffing has grown about 8%

• Library staffing has grown roughly double that

Yet the system is now proposing expanded services like lending drones, power tools, sewing machines, and video equipment.

That leads to a fundamental question for voters:

What is the core mission of a library—and does this expansion align with community priorities?

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Today’s Tidbit: CCWD Pride

Diane’s journey with CC Watchdog is the kind of story we love to see.

She started as a subscriber, became an engaged researcher and contributor—and now? She’s officially part of the street team.

Diane recently stopped by Strait Signs and had a CC Watchdog sticker added to her Jeep, proudly representing CCWD out in the community. Keep an eye out—you might just spot her around town.

Thanks, Diane, for taking the conversation off the page and into the real world.

And speaking of commitment…

Christine has taken things to the next level. After getting all of her vehicles—including her classic Barracuda—decked out with CC Watchdog logos, she’s now added CC Watchdog shade shields to keep things cool inside.

Because nothing says dedication like staying informed—and keeping your dashboard from melting at the same time.

Thanks, Christine, for the continued support. Our future’s so bright, we gotta have shade sheilds.

The League of Women Voters says it stands for equity, inclusion, and amplifying marginalized voices. But what happens when those voices were silenced—not by outsiders—but from within? A closer look at the Clallam Relief Act of 1925 raises uncomfortable questions the League seems unwilling to answer.

Last month marked the 101st anniversary of the Clallam Relief Act of 1925—a law often framed as a long-overdue effort to compensate the Clallam people. Congress appropriated $400,000, later reduced to $385,000, to be distributed among enrolled tribal members. On paper, it looked like justice.

In practice, it tells a far more complicated—and far less discussed—story.

To receive payment, individuals were required to sign a sweeping legal release, relinquishing “all claims of any nature” against the United States under any treaty or agreement, including the Treaty of Point No Point. The intent was clear: this was meant to be a final settlement.

And yet, even at the time, not everyone was included.

Who Was Left Out—and Why It Matters

Historical records from 1926 reveal that eligibility was not simply about lineage—it became about who was allowed to count.

Despite federal guidance that tribal decisions should involve both men and women, a small group of male signatories pushed to exclude:

• Clallam women who married outside the tribe

• Their children

• Others deemed to have “questionable” or “shadowy” claims

The reasoning? Fewer claimants meant larger payouts.

The result was not just administrative—it was systemic exclusion. Women and children who met earlier criteria were deliberately removed from the base roll. Their absence wasn’t incidental. It was strategic.

And the consequences didn’t end in 1925.

By 1933, complaints surfaced that hundreds of Clallam individuals had received nothing at all. Estimates suggested roughly 700 tribal members existed, but only about 533 participated in the distribution. The rest were left out—completely.

A Settlement That Didn’t Settle

Each recipient signed language accepting payment as “full satisfaction” of all claims. That raises a reasonable question:

If this was truly final—why are we still revisiting these issues today?

But there’s another question, one that gets far less attention:

What about those who were excluded entirely?
What claims did they ever get to settle?

The League’s Selective Advocacy

The League of Women Voters frequently invokes phrases like:

• “equity”

• “inclusion”

• “amplifying marginalized voices”

It acknowledges the region as the homeland of Indigenous people and speaks about historical injustices. But those statements tend to stop where the narrative becomes uncomfortable.

Because if the League is serious about amplifying voices, it raises difficult questions:

• What about Clallam descendants whose lineage was excluded because of who their grandmothers married?

• What about individuals of Clallam heritage who remain unrecognized today?

• What about the Chimakum people—whose history in this region includes displacement, violence, and near-genocide at the hands of the Clallam?

The Chimakum are not federally recognized. They received no land, no compensation, and no institutional support. Their story doesn’t fit neatly into modern frameworks of advocacy—and so it is rarely discussed.

If equity is the standard, it has to apply consistently.

History Is Not a Slogan

The modern tendency to reduce complex history into simplified narratives—“stolen land,” “colonizers,” “oppressed vs. oppressor”—breaks down under scrutiny.

History in this region, like elsewhere, is layered:

• Conflict existed before European settlement

• Power shifted between groups over time

• Outcomes were not always just, even within communities

Acknowledging that complexity doesn’t diminish anyone’s experience—it strengthens the credibility of the conversation.

Ignoring it does the opposite.

A Question the League Should Answer

If the League of Women Voters is committed to fairness and representation, then the question isn’t whether it supports Indigenous voices.

The question is:

Which voices—and why those?

Because when advocacy appears selective, it starts to look less like principle and more like alignment.

Closing Perspective

The Clallam Relief Act of 1925 was supposed to resolve claims. Instead, it left behind a record of exclusion that still echoes today.

That history doesn’t disappear just because it complicates a modern narrative.

And for organizations that claim to stand for inclusion, that’s not a detail—it’s the test.

The League of Women Voters has found the time to take out ads in local newspapers warning residents that their rights are at risk. But when asked a simple, direct question—which rights?—there’s no response, no clarification, no engagement.

This is now the seventh article raising legitimate questions about the League’s positions and actions. Every article has been sent to info@lwvcla.org. Not one question has been answered.

Yet this is the same organization that hosts forums, moderates debates, and positions itself as a steward of civic dialogue. The message is hard to ignore: they ask the questions, but answer to no one.

Through the Clallam County Charter Review Commission—an entity frequently chaired or influenced by League leadership—they have helped shape the direction of county governance for decades. But during the most recent Charter Review, that influence took a more troubling turn.

The League’s secretary, Susan Fisch, along with other members, pushed for changes that would limit what could be reported from publicly available information. In effect, they were advocating for restrictions on speech—on information that is already, by definition, public.

That is not a gray area.

The First Amendment is a cornerstone of American democracy. It protects the free exchange of information, the right to report on public matters, and the ability of citizens to hold government accountable. Efforts to restrict the reporting of public information run directly counter to those protections.

So the question becomes unavoidable:

How is that defending democracy?

At the same time, the League’s internal rhetoric around “diversity of thought” rings hollow to many who have watched dissenting viewpoints dismissed or excluded.

If inclusion is the standard, it must apply beyond those who align ideologically.

There are, without question, marginalized voices in Clallam County that deserve to be heard. But increasingly, those voices include people who simply think differently than the League and the activist circles it promotes.

The League also plays a role in election observation—and in some cases, administration, such as involvement in Conservation District elections. For an organization that insists on its neutrality, that level of influence raises reasonable concerns about perception, impartiality, and public trust.

Taken together—with its role in civic processes, its willingness to entertain restrictions on speech, and its lack of responsiveness—the result is not greater confidence in local institutions, but growing skepticism.

Accountability isn’t optional for organizations that claim to defend democracy.

And when questions go unanswered, people will start asking them somewhere else.

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Today’s Tidbit: Drought for Some, Not for All

The Washington State Department of Ecology has issued a statewide drought declaration, with the Olympic Peninsula flagged as especially vulnerable due to unusually low snowpack.

“Going into April with half of our usual snowpack is alarming,” said Department of Ecology Director Casey Sixkiller. “Without enough snow… we must prepare for widespread shortages.”

The message from the state is straightforward: start conserving now.

For the moment, that conservation is voluntary. Residents are being asked to reduce lawn watering, fix leaks, and limit non-essential use. Local governments may implement restrictions later, but today the responsibility rests largely on individuals to act early.

The Inconsistency

On the Olympic Peninsula, where summer water supply depends heavily on mountain snowpack, the concern is legitimate.

But the application isn’t uniform.

While residents are urged to cut back, large-scale water users—such as irrigated golf courses—are expected to continue operating. That includes the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe’s 122-acre course, which hosts the “Sonny Sixkiller Celebrity Golf Classic” in late July, typically one of the driest periods of the year.

Sonny Sixkiller, the tournament’s namesake and spokesman for Jamestown Corporation, is also the father of Ecology Director Casey Sixkiller.

The result is an uncomfortable contrast: the state’s top water official is calling for conservation while a high-profile, water-intensive event tied to his father proceeds during peak drought season.

Complicating matters further, state-imposed water restrictions do not apply in the same way to sovereign tribal trust lands, creating a structural gap in how conservation policies are experienced across the region.

The Question

No one is disputing the drought.

But when conservation is voluntary for some, enforceable for others, and functionally inapplicable to entire categories of land use, it raises a fair question:

Who, exactly, is being asked to sacrifice?

If you’ve been wondering what’s really happening in Clallam County—and why the same names keep showing up in police reports—tonight is your chance to hear directly from those responsible. This isn’t theory. It’s not policy language. It’s real cases, real patterns, and real consequences. And it’s happening in your community.

Tonight from 6:30 to 8:30 PM at the Fairview Grange Hall on Lake Farm Road, the Calico Cat Social Club is hosting a Public Safety Town Hall.

On the panel:

• County Commissioner Mike French

• Prosecutor Mark Nichols

• Sheriff Brian King

• Port Angeles Police Chief Brian Smith

They will be taking questions directly from the public.

Commissioner Randy Johnson is unable to attend due to family matters. Commissioner Mark Ozias declined to participate.

So if you want answers—this is who will be in the room.

And there are a lot of questions that need answering.

600 Miles Away… and Now Here

Aram Keshian, 25, was arrested this week on a failure to appear warrant.

Three years ago, he was in the Boise, Idaho area—over 600 miles away—dealing with charges for driving without privileges.

Now he’s here.

That raises a basic question:
Why Clallam County?

Why are individuals with criminal histories traveling across state lines and ending up in our system?

Is it policy?
Is it enforcement?
Is it incentives?

Because once they’re here, it’s not free—it’s on the taxpayer. Jail stays, medical care, food, services. The bill doesn’t follow them back to Idaho. It stays here.

A Known Offender, A Familiar Pattern

Joshua Mirka, 49, arrested again for failure to appear.

Mirka is not an unknown name. He is a registered sex offender, listed as transient out of Shelton, with a history that includes:

• Indecent liberties

• Third-degree rape

• Vehicle theft

• Retail theft

This isn’t new behavior—it’s a long pattern.

Back in 2017, he was involved in stealing vehicles across multiple states, ending up near the Mexican border. Law enforcement at the time even noted that jurisdictions outside Washington tend to be far more aggressive in prosecution and sentencing.

And yet, here he is again—back in the system.

At some point, the question becomes unavoidable:
Is this system interrupting behavior—or just documenting it?

The Revolving Door in Real Time

Macllin Heaward.

Arrested yesterday.
Also arrested twice last month.

This is the same individual who violently assaulted a Clallam Transit operator, caught on video.

An attack serious enough that community leaders were notified—but one that received minimal public attention from legacy media.

And now?

Back in the system. Again.

This is what people mean when they talk about a “cycle.” It’s not abstract. It’s not theoretical. It’s the same individuals, over and over.

Meanwhile, the buses and the Gateway Transit Center—used by working people, students, and families—are becoming less predictable, less safe.

So the question becomes:
Are we waiting for the next incident?

A Career Criminal Still Operating

Joshua Wilson, 43.

Recently arrested for burglary and malicious mischief after being caught inside a home.

His record isn’t short—it stretches back years:

• Firearm charges

• Assaulting an officer

• Meth-related offenses

• More than ten felony convictions

• Multiple prison sentences

He is also a transient Level I sex offender, operating under multiple aliases.

And just days ago—another incident.

A Washington State Patrol stop turned into:

• Attempted flight

• Physical resistance

• Discovery of 70 grams of fentanyl

• Methamphetamine, cocaine, and other substances

• Digital scales

• Nearly $1,800 cash

• A shotgun with the serial number filed off

• Stolen property

Many of the items visible in the photo—glass pipes, foil, and other paraphernalia—are the same types of materials commonly distributed through the County’s Harm Reduction Health Center.

This is not low-level activity. This is distribution-level narcotics, stolen goods, and weapon violations.

And yet—this individual was still operating in the region.

At some point, it stops being about one person and starts being about what the system allows to continue.

Three Arrests in One Month — Same Person

Sergey Kubai.

Three separate DUI-drug arrests in December.
Each time—more narcotics found.

Fentanyl. Meth. Heroin. Cocaine.
A stolen firearm.
Evidence consistent with trafficking.

Three arrests. Same behavior.

And the outcome?

A DOSA sentence—Drug Offender Sentencing Alternative. Reduced prison time in exchange for treatment.

The theory behind DOSA is straightforward: address addiction, reduce recidivism.

But here’s the disconnect:

This wasn’t a one-time offender.
This was repeated, escalating behavior—including impaired driving on public roads.

So the question people are asking is simple:
At what point does “treatment-first” stop protecting the public?

Because three DUI-drug arrests in one month means these are the people sharing the road with families at highway speeds.

The Bigger Question

These aren’t isolated incidents.

They form a pattern:

• Repeat offenders

• Known histories

• Out-of-area individuals entering the system

• Arrest → release → reoffend

And while officials talk about models, strategies, and long-term solutions, residents are watching the same names come up again and again.

There’s a difference between understanding a problem…

…and allowing it to continue unchecked.

When Leadership Sends the Wrong Signal

You also have to look at the broader tone being set in this county.

A current county commissioner has stated that property destruction is “usually the only way we’ve ever seen actual change happen.”

When leadership normalizes or excuses destruction as a pathway to change, what message does that send?

Because we’ve already seen what that looks like on the ground.

Eco-activist Tim Wheeler was filmed causing thousands of dollars in damage to public land—and walked away without meaningful consequences.

That’s not theory. That’s precedent.

So when residents see repeat offenders cycling through the system, when they see enforcement inconsistencies, and then hear elected officials downplay or even justify destructive behavior, it raises a bigger concern:

Are we reinforcing accountability—or eroding it?

Why Tonight Matters

Tonight is not a presentation.

It’s not a lecture.

It’s a chance to sit across from the people responsible for:

• Charging decisions

• Enforcement priorities

• Policy direction

And ask them directly:

Is this working?
And if not—what changes need to be made?

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Today’s Tidbit

Not everyone wants this conversation happening.

Indivisible Sequim, backed by the League of Women Voters, is encouraging members to attend, warning that discussions like this could lead to “cruelty” toward vulnerable populations.

But that raises a serious question:

Who are the vulnerable?

• The parent walking a child past tents and debris

• The transit rider after a violent assault

• The small business owner dealing with theft

• The resident whose neighborhood is changing in ways they didn’t vote for

• The children at the pool where transient sex offenders are allowed to shower

Public safety is not an attack on the vulnerable.

It is a basic expectation of government.

Trying to shut down that conversation—or reframe it as harmful—doesn’t solve anything.

It just avoids it.

This is Important

If you’ve read this far, you already know what’s at stake.

You can scroll past it.
You can talk about it online.

Or you can show up.

Tonight. 6:30 PM. Fairview Grange Hall.

Because the people making decisions will be there.

The only question is whether you will be too.

Just three months into his role on the Port Angeles City Council, Mark Hodgson is already aiming higher—announcing a run for the State House while pushing one of the city’s most expensive and controversial policies: keeping all public bathrooms open 24/7. But as questions linger about his past attendance, residency, and priorities, critics are asking whether this is leadership—or the early signs of another political stepping stone.

Mark Hodgson has officially announced his candidacy for the Washington State House of Representatives, signaling that his ambitions extend well beyond Port Angeles City Hall. But for many watching closely, the announcement raises a more immediate question: what kind of leadership is he demonstrating right now?

That question becomes harder to ignore when looking at the record.

Last year, as a member of the Clallam County Charter Review Commission, Hodgson had the worst attendance out of all 15 commissioners—a body tasked with shaping the county’s foundational governing document. It was a serious responsibility, yet one that, by the numbers, didn’t receive consistent participation.

At the same time, questions surrounding his residency have never been publicly addressed. During his run for Port Angeles City Council, Hodgson reportedly listed Olympia as his residence, even as he campaigned locally. Those concerns were raised publicly but never fully clarified.

Now on City Council, the pattern hasn’t exactly inspired confidence. Hodgson:

• Missed his very first council meeting in January

• Had his swearing-in delayed due to “work obligations”

• Was, at the time, reportably living and working as a State Trooper in Olympia

He has since transferred to Clallam County, and is quickly gaining a local reputation as a no-nonsense state trooper.

But the broader concern remains: how rooted is his focus here in Port Angeles and Clallam County?

Because already, the attention appears to be shifting.

The Bathroom Debate: Cost vs. Policy Direction

At a recent council discussion, Hodgson’s first major motion was striking:

• Keep all three city bathrooms open 24 hours a day

• And begin identifying locations for two additional bathrooms

This came despite clear warnings from city staff.

The Port Angeles Parks Department reported:

“Since 2023, our department has spent nearly a half a million dollars just cleaning our outdoor restrooms.”

Let that sink in—$500,000 just to clean bathrooms.

And the problems aren’t minor:

• Clothes and syringes flushed into plumbing

• Toilets requiring removal from the floor to clear blockages

• Frequent damage, biohazards, and safety concerns

Staff were already considering a scaled-back approach:

• One 24-hour restroom

• Two others daytime-only

Why? Because they don’t have enough staff to maintain them now.

One staff member, speaking candidly, admitted:

“We don’t clean everything that we should… I wouldn’t take my kids there.”

That’s not a political talking point—that’s the reality on the ground.

Not a “Middle Ground”

Hodgson has positioned himself as a middle-of-the-road problem solver. But based on the meeting, his position is clear: expand access, even as costs and misuse spiral.

That’s not moderation—that’s doubling down.

And it aligns with comments he made at a recent Port Angeles Business Association meeting, where he expressed support for low-barrier housing—a model that allows continued drug and alcohol use.

Taken together, the philosophy becomes clearer:

• Keep facilities open, regardless of misuse

• Expand services, even when they’re already overwhelmed

• Absorb the cost—passed on to taxpayers

A Familiar Pattern?

There’s a bigger concern here.

Running for state office just months into a local term raises the possibility that Port Angeles is not the priority—it’s the platform.

If that sounds familiar, it should.

The Charter Review Commission already saw what happens when responsibilities take a back seat. Now, some are wondering if the City Council is next.

Because when:

• Attendance is inconsistent

• Residency questions go unanswered

• Major policy pushes ignore operational realities

…it doesn’t suggest balance.

It suggests ambition outpacing accountability.

Bottom Line

Mark Hodgson’s push for 24-hour bathrooms isn’t just about restrooms.

It’s a window into:

• His policy priorities

• His governing philosophy

• And how he may approach higher office

At a time when the city is already struggling to maintain what it has, the question isn’t whether bathrooms are important.

It’s whether this approach is sustainable—or just the beginning of more costly decisions to come.

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Today’s Tidbit: Emily Randall

Congresswoman Emily Randall responded to a concerned Clallam County resident with a form letter that tries to have it both ways—praising the Dungeness National Wildlife Refuge as a vital public asset while signaling support for transferring it into trust for the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe. She leans heavily on phrases like “since time immemorial” and tribal stewardship, but avoids the obvious tension: land held in public trust doesn’t stay public once it’s transferred to a sovereign nation.

She promises to “ensure public access,” yet backs a process that could put that access out of local control entirely. There’s no real acknowledgment of growing public concern or what enforceable protections would remain. For a representative elected to serve her constituents, the letter reads less like advocacy for the people of the 6th District—and more like a careful defense of a decision already heading in one direction.

Dear [Redacted],

Thank you for reaching out to my office to share your thoughts on the Dungeness National Wildlife Refuge and potential land transfer to the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe. As your representative in Congress, hearing from folks in Washington’s 6th District is incredibly important to me, and I truly appreciate your time and your perspective.

As you may know, the Dungeness National Wildlife Refuge in Clallam County includes one of the world’s longest sand spits, and is home to more than 300 species including types of fish, mammals, birds, and more. These lands are invaluable not just for their natural beauty, but also for the benefits they provide to our communities and to our economies. Furthermore, wildlife refuges are a crucial cornerstone of our country’s conservation obligation. It is imperative that we protect areas like the Dungeness National Wildlife Refuge from any harm, whether that be from plastic pollution, offshore drilling, or ocean mining.

The Dungeness Watershed is located in the ancestral homeland of the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe along the Strait of Juan de Fuca. The Tribe has fished, gathered, hunted, and conducted ceremonies in the area since time immemorial. For over 30 years, the Tribe has worked with Clallam County and other partners through the Dungeness River Management Team (DRMT) to protect the watershed and meet the needs of both people and wildlife. Important plans, such as the 1994 Dungeness-Quilcene Water Resources Plan, helped guide fair water use, including an agreement that limits how much river water can be used for irrigation so enough remains for fish. Later updates improved water conservation and set minimum river flow levels to protect fish habitats. The Tribe has played a key role in these efforts and continues to work with farmers, local governments, and environmental groups to protect the land and reduce pollution.

The Tribe has been engaged in co-management of the tidelands since 1990, and in 2024, reached an agreement with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to establish co-management of the refuge. The Tribe is seeking a land transfer for the Dungeness Refuge to be held in trust, which means the federal government, through the Department of Interior (DOI), would hold the title to the land for the benefit of the Tribe. Land transfers require an act of Congress and there is precedent for federally owned lands, within established refuges, ranges, and other federally designated lands, to be transferred into trusts for Tribes. I plan to work closely with the Tribe, the County, local community members, the relevant state and federal agencies, and other members of our congressional delegation to ensure that any land transfer continues to safeguard public access and protects these areas for generations to come.

As you know, these lands are invaluable not just for their natural beauty, but also for the benefits they provide to our communities, like the ability to hunt, hike, fish, and camp. These benefits are strengthened when Tribal stewardship and sovereignty are respected and upheld. As a member of the Subcommittee on Indian and Insular Affairs within the House Natural Resources Committee, I am committed to advocating for Tribal sovereignty and working alongside Indigenous leaders to support policies that uplift Tribal Nations across the country. I will continue advocating for policies that safeguard our wildlife and public lands, protect our environment, and honor Tribal sovereignty and self-determination.

Thank you again for sharing what matters to you. If you would like to stay up to date with my work on behalf of Washington’s 6th Congressional District, connect with me on Instagram, Facebook, Bluesky, and subscribe to my newsletter. If you need help with a federal agency, such as the VA, IRS, or USCIS, my office is here to assist. Please visit this link or call my Bremerton District Office at (360) 373-9725 or my Tacoma District Office at (253) 272-3515.

Sincerely,

Emily Randall
Member of Congress

The North Olympic Library System is asking voters to approve a significant tax increase—but critics say the modern library looks very different from the one taxpayers think they’re funding. From shifting priorities to declining usage, here are the key facts worth considering before you cast your ballot.

A Changing Institution

For generations, libraries have been seen as quiet, neutral places—focused on books, learning, and access to information. The North Olympic Library System (NOLS), serving Clallam County, has long been part of that tradition.

But today’s library is evolving.

Walk into the newly opened Sequim branch, and one of the first things you might see is a prominently displayed nonfiction title like “The Politics Book: Big Ideas Explained Simply.”

Its cover features provocative historical slogans such as “Property is theft” and “We need to cut off the king’s head”—a signal, some argue, of a broader shift in tone and priorities.

At the same time, NOLS is asking voters to approve a levy increase. Before making that decision, here are ten key points to consider before voting.

1. The Library’s Role Is Expanding Beyond Books

NOLS has increasingly positioned itself as more than a traditional library—exploring roles in social services, community outreach, and public health support.

2. Discussions Around Social Service Functions

There have been conversations and initiatives tied to providing resources such as food access, harm-reduction tools, and broader community assistance—raising questions about whether this aligns with core library functions.

3. Use as a Warming or Day Shelter Space

NOLS facilities are sometimes promoted as daytime refuge spaces, particularly during extreme weather—something critics view as mission drift.

4. Programming Reflects Broader Social Themes

Book displays, events, and programming have included topics tied to activism, equity, and social justice—prompting debate over whether the library is taking on a more advocacy-oriented role.

5. Partnerships with Civic Organizations

NOLS regularly partners with groups such as the partisan League of Women Voters for forums, workshops, and civic engagement events—raising questions for some about balance in public-facing programming.

6. Internal Priorities: Staffing and Work Structure

Library planning documents and discussions have included goals around expanded employee benefits and exploring alternative work structures, including shorter workweeks.

7. Investment in Training and Consulting

Over $50,000 in funding has been directed toward training and consulting, including DEI-focused programming and outside facilitators, such as Miriam Cherbib, who once recommended, “Do not have words that are too triggering… even the word ‘conversation’ can be dividing.”

8. Usage Trends and Metrics

Reports and analyses have pointed to declines in traditional usage metrics (such as physical circulation). Despite rising costs and staffing, nearly every measure of library use has declined since 2018:

• Active cardholders decreased 23%

• Library visits sunk 31.7%

• Circulation dropped 20.6%

• Program attendance declined 19.2%

• Computer use plummeted 51%

• Website visits fell 24.5% (despite digital expansion)

9. Budget Growth vs. Core Services

The library’s spending priorities have gradually shifted away from core services and toward programming and administration—and the numbers reflect a system that’s grown significantly in recent years.

NOLS’ operating budget has increased from $4.5 million in 2018 to a projected $7.3 million in 2026, a 62% jump.

Much of that growth is driven by personnel costs. Salaries and benefits have risen 53% over that same period, outpacing the Seattle–Bellevue Consumer Price Index, which climbed 34.5%. As a result, staffing now accounts for roughly 71% of the library’s operating expenses, up from 67% in 2018.

10. The Size of the Levy Increase

The proposed levy represents a substantial increase in taxpayer funding—transforming this from a routine renewal into a broader decision about the future direction and scope of the North Olympic Library System. And it comes at a time when many residents are already feeling the strain of rising costs, making affordability a central concern in a county still facing economic challenges.

At its core, this vote is about more than funding a library—it’s about defining what a library should be.

Is it primarily a place for books, literacy, and quiet study?
Or is it evolving into a broader community hub with expanded social and civic roles?

With the April 28th special election approaching, voters will decide on Proposition 1, which would raise the levy rate by roughly 60%, from $0.28 to $0.45 per $1,000 of assessed value. Few would dispute the importance of libraries—but many are asking deeper questions about management, priorities, and whether the current direction aligns with community expectations.

Concerns outlined in the official “Against” statement point to issues such as financial oversight, transparency in material selection, collection policies, and shifting budget priorities. To help inform that discussion, Dr. Sarah has provided a short, fact-based video summarizing publicly available information, including audit findings, vendor relationships, and policy language.

This isn’t about opposing libraries. It’s about examining how a publicly funded institution—one that relies on taxpayers for nearly 90% of its operating budget—is operating, and whether it reflects the accountability, transparency, and community alignment residents expect.

Ultimately, the decision rests with voters:

What role should the library play?
What priorities should it reflect?
And what level of funding—and oversight—does that vision require?

Those are the questions on the ballot.

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Today’s Tidbit: Public Health Week

Clallam County Health and Human Services is marking “Public Health Week” with a colorful display outside its 3rd Street offices in Port Angeles.

But step back and take in the full scene.

Just beyond the sign, the parking lot is lined with tents, with people stretched out on the pavement. In a nearby alcove—next to a Narcan dispenser—individuals appear to be actively using drugs.

The contrast is hard to ignore: a celebration of public health on one side, and visible, ongoing addiction on the other. For many residents, it raises a difficult question—are current policies actually improving conditions, or simply managing them in plain sight?

What started as “co-stewardship” may be the final step in a much longer strategy. Documents—and now outside reporting—show the Jamestown Corporation has been laying the groundwork for years to control the Dungeness and Protection Island National Wildlife Refuges—raising serious questions about access, accountability, and what happens next.

There’s a difference between stewardship and ownership—and right now, Clallam County residents are being asked to ignore that distinction.

Buried in federal testimony submitted by Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe Chairman and CEO Ron Allen is confirmation of what many have suspected: his Corporation is not just participating in management of the Dungeness and Protection Island National Wildlife Refuges—it is actively investing in long-term control over them.

The document highlights a Self-Governance Co-Stewardship Agreement established in August 2024 between the Jamestown Corporation and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. That agreement covers both refuges and comes with federal funding requests to support ongoing operations.

But here’s the part that should stop people in their tracks:

This isn’t a short-term partnership. It’s a foothold.

From “Co-Stewardship” to Control

The Jamestown Corporation’s testimony emphasizes “self-governance,” “autonomy,” and the expansion of tribal control over federally managed lands and programs.

That language matters.

Because once you move from advisory input…
to co-management…
to self-governance…

…the next logical step is ownership.

And outside reporting now confirms just how quickly that transition is happening.

The co-management agreement—signed in August 2024—was the first of its kind in Washington State, and it didn’t just give the Jamestown Corporation a seat at the table. It gave them operational control. In fact, the Jamestown Corporation is already leading day-to-day operations at both refuges, including interacting with visitors and managing site activity.

Less than two years after gaining operational control, the push is already underway for full ownership.

That’s not evolution. That’s acceleration.

A Federal Strategy Already in Motion

The same reporting makes something else clear: this isn’t just local.

The co-management agreement was part of a broader federal push to either:

• Transfer federal lands back to tribes

• Or move toward co-management as a stepping stone

That context matters because it reframes what’s happening here.

This isn’t a one-off agreement.

It’s part of a national policy direction—one where co-management is often the middle step, not the end goal.

What Happens When It’s No Longer Public Land?

There’s something that often gets glossed over:

Tribal land is not public land.

Access is not guaranteed. Oversight is not the same. And legal recourse becomes significantly more limited due to tribal sovereign immunity, which generally shields tribes from lawsuits unless they waive that protection.

That’s not speculation—that’s established law—and it’s already playing out locally.

A federal lawsuit challenging the refuge agreement is currently underway, but notably, the Tribe itself is not named in the suit because of sovereign immunity protections.

So while some may picture continued public access, others are asking a more realistic question:

What happens when a sign goes up that reads:

“Welcome to OUR LAND — Tribal citizens only.”

Because while non-tribal residents are welcome at revenue-generating properties—like the casino, gas station, golf course, or MAT clinic—there are already clear examples of tribal spaces that are restricted:

• Private beaches

• Tribal gyms

• Community facilities

The distinction is simple:
If it generates revenue, access is open.
If it doesn’t, access is limited.

Now apply that model to a national wildlife refuge.

The Oyster Operation Waiting in the Wings

There’s another piece of this story that hasn’t gotten enough attention.

Plans have already been discussed to establish a commercial oyster harvesting operation using non-native species within the refuge boundaries—a proposal that has raised serious environmental concerns and triggered legal challenges.

Environmental watchdogs have warned that converting refuge waters into a commercial shellfish operation could permanently alter the ecosystem, turning protected habitat into an industrial aquaculture site.

Right now, that effort is slowed—if not outright blocked—by lawsuits, permitting hurdles, and federal oversight.

But if ownership shifts?

Those barriers don’t just weaken—they disappear.

Control over permitting, environmental review, and enforcement becomes far more favorable to the entity that owns the land.

That’s not a theory. That’s how jurisdiction works.

A Strategic Timeline—And a Critical Deadline

The co-management agreement itself is not permanent.

It is set to be revisited after two years—this August.

So ask yourself:

Is the push for ownership happening now because of uncertainty about what happens next?

If the agreement is up for review…
If federal agencies reassess performance…
If public scrutiny increases…

Then locking in ownership before that happens would eliminate those risks entirely.

From Management to Legislative Transfer

And now we’re seeing the next phase play out in real time.

The Jamestown Corporation is actively seeking federal legislation to transfer over 900 acres of land—including both wildlife refuges—into tribal ownership.

That includes:

• 608 acres at Dungeness

• Nearly 300 acres at Protection Island

• Additional parcels near Sequim Bay

This isn’t hypothetical.

It’s already being discussed in Congress.

The “Underserved” Narrative vs. Economic Reality

In federal testimony, the Tribe emphasizes funding needs, service gaps, and the importance of federal investment.

But notably absent is any clear statement that the Tribe itself is economically distressed.

That omission stands out—especially when compared to the Tribe’s own land transfer materials, which focus not on hardship, but on expanding control, strengthening resource management, and creating economic opportunity.

This isn’t framed as a lifeline. It’s framed as a strategic expansion.

Because locally, Chairman Ron Allen has stated the Tribe has an annual budget of over $100 million, for just over 200 members.

So which is it?

A vulnerable, underserved community in need of federal expansion?
Or a financially established entity seeking to grow its land base, authority, and revenue potential?

That contradiction deserves more scrutiny than it’s getting.

The Federal Ask: More Control, More Funding, More Authority

The same testimony outlines a broad set of requests to Congress:

• Expanded funding for tribal natural resource management

• Increased control over fisheries and wildlife programs

• Mandatory federal funding streams

• Greater autonomy through self-governance structures

Individually, these may seem reasonable.

Taken together, they form a clear pattern:

Consolidation of authority. Expansion of control. Reduction of external oversight.

And now—potentially—ownership of federal land.

Who’s Really Writing the Letters?

Here’s where things take a turn locally.

Today at 9:00 AM, Clallam County Commissioners will consider sending a letter supporting the transfer of these refuges to the Tribe.

Tonight at 6:00 PM, the Sequim City Council will consider supporting that same effort.

But the letter being presented as a “city” position was actually authored by Jamestown CEO Ron Allen.

This is local leadership:

A letter written by the Tribe…
Presented as coming from local governments…
Is being used to support transferring federal land to that same Tribe.

What Can Residents Do?

For those asking what recourse still exists, there are steps you can take.

Concerned resident Pepai Whipple recently reached out to State Representative Jim Walsh, who recommended that residents contact the current White House administration and the Department of the Interior to express opposition to the proposed transfer.

He also suggested reaching out directly to U.S. Representative Michael Baumgartner to make your position known.

At this stage, federal decision-makers will play a central role in determining whether this transfer moves forward—and constituent input still carries weight.

If this issue matters to you, now is the time to speak up.

• Contact Congressman Baumgartner here.

• Contact the Department of the Interior here.

• Contact the White House here.

The Bigger Question

At what point does cooperation become capitulation?

Because this isn’t just about land.

It’s about:

• Public access

• Environmental oversight

• Economic control

• And whether local residents still have a voice in decisions that reshape their own community

The Jamestown Tribe didn’t arrive at this moment overnight.

Federal policy opened the door.
Co-management stepped through it.
Now ownership is knocking.

And now, in a matter of hours, local leaders may take the next step in making it permanent.

The question is whether anyone is willing to stop and ask:

Who does this really serve—and what do we lose if it happens?

Ron Allen Federal Testimony

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Today’s Tidbit

They Took Down a Sign. They Didn’t Slow the Movement.

Six months in, with six more to go, County Commissioner candidate Jake Seegers’ campaign just hit a moment that says more than any speech ever could.

Late Friday night—or early Saturday morning—one of his most visible signs, near the Walmart roundabout in Sequim, was torn down and slashed. It sat on private property, placed there by supporters willing to stand behind the message—and the man.

That sign mattered. Not just because of where it stood, but because of what it represented.

It was paid for by everyday people. Folks who chipped in $10. Others who gave more. Local businesses investing in the idea that Clallam County can do better—with leadership grounded in transparency, accountability, and real results.

And when something like that gets destroyed, it raises a bigger question about the tone we’re setting in this community.

Especially when we have a sitting commissioner, Mike French, who has publicly suggested that property destruction can be justified—that sometimes it’s “the only way we’ve ever seen actual change happen.”

Think about that.

Because whether intended or not, that kind of rhetoric sets a tone. And when the tone shifts, behavior often follows.

But here’s the part that matters most:

Tearing down a sign doesn’t erase what’s behind it.

If anything, it reinforces it.

Jake isn’t backed by a political machine. He’s running as an independent—powered by people who want common sense back in local government. People who are tired of being ignored, tired of watching decisions get made without clear metrics, and tired of leadership that talks past them instead of to them.

That kind of campaign doesn’t get shaken by one act of vandalism.

It gets stronger.

So yes—expect more signs.
And maybe expect more pushback, too.

But also expect this:

For every sign that comes down, more will go up.
For every attempt to intimidate, more people will step forward.

Because Jake isn’t just running against an opponent—he’s running to change a culture. One that, for too long, has looked the other way when standards slip.

Clallam County deserves better than that.

Jake’s halfway there. And he’s just getting started.

If you’ve got a visible spot for a sign, now’s the time.

Email vote@jakeseegers.com.

Learn more about Jake

In this Sundays With Seegers podcast-only feature, County Commissioner candidate Jake Seegers sits down with Jen, a recovering addict who has lived the cycle so many policymakers only talk about. Now housed but still fighting for sobriety, Jen opens up about her past homelessness, her ongoing recovery, and the painful reality of loving someone—her boyfriend Joe—who is still living in active addiction along Tumwater Creek.

The conversation stems from a recent walk through the encampments with local advocate Stacey Richards, whose growing platform is shedding light on what many believe are failed local policies. What Jake and Stacey found wasn’t just another encampment—it was a story that challenges the narrative.

Jen describes what brought her and Joe to Clallam County, what it’s really like inside the Serenity House shelter, and why staying sober can feel nearly impossible when drug use is tolerated just steps away. At one point, she puts it bluntly: “I would rather be in a tent than around all that.”

She shares her firsthand experience with the Jamestown MAT clinic—what worked, what didn’t—and offers an unfiltered perspective on medication-assisted treatment. She reflects on how harm reduction has changed over time, recalling when needle exchanges required actual exchanges, and contrasts that with what she says she sees now: supplies handed out freely, including items like meth pipes.

Her observations don’t stop there. Jen challenges assumptions about services in Clallam County, calling it “the first place I’ve seen spoiled homeless people,” and raises a difficult question: what happens to people like Joe if outdoor camping is no longer allowed?

Perhaps most striking is her comparison between high-barrier and low-barrier recovery environments. She makes a clear distinction between what works—and what people in addiction are most likely to choose.

She closes with a message aimed directly at local leadership, laying out what she believes the true impact of current policies has been—not in theory, but on the ground.

Jake continues to seek out some of the bravest voices in the community—people willing to speak openly about the darkest chapters of their lives—because even a small chance of changing the trajectory of these policies is worth it.

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Editor’s Note: CC Watchdog editor Jeff Tozzer also serves as campaign manager for Jake Seegers during his run for Clallam County Commissioner, District 3. Learn more at www.JakeSeegers.com.

A single social media post, a controversial voucher program, and a wave of public backlash reveal just how quickly local policy can unravel—and how disconnected leadership may be from the consequences playing out in real time.

It started quietly.

Two people—Stacey Richards, a recovering addict with a large online following, and county commissioner candidate Jake Seegers—walked along Tumwater Creek. What they found wasn’t just environmental degradation. It was the human cost of policies that encourage people trapped in addiction to live outdoors.

They talked to people living in the camps. Heard their stories. Saw the reality up close.

And then one man showed Jake something he said he had received from the County’s harm reduction center: a voucher for a free shower at the Shore Aquatic Center.

That moment changed everything.

Jake featured the voucher in an article. The very next day, CC Watchdog reported that more than one-third of registered sex offenders in Port Angeles are classified as transient. Then Stacey posted about the vouchers.

Within 48 hours, over 100,000 people had seen it.

Shortly after, the Shore Aquatic Center announced the voucher program would be discontinued, citing “large scale negative feedback.”

Now, the issue is headed to the pool board for public discussion on April 28th at 3:00 p.m. Existing vouchers will still be honored—for now—and public comment will be allowed.

Which raises a question that shouldn’t be controversial:

How did we get to a point where policies effectively invite transient populations—including registered sex offenders—to share facilities with children and families?

That’s not rhetoric. That’s reality. And it’s a question the board will need to answer.

Board members are:

• Mike French, County Commissioner

• Randy Johnson, County Commissioner

• Navarra Carr, Port Angeles City Councilmember

• LaTrisha Suggs, Port Angeles City Councilmember

• Greg Sheild

Signs, Donuts, and Doorsteps

Jake Seegers’ campaign is picking up steam. Yard signs have arrived, and he’s hosting a casual meet-and-greet this morning from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m. at 224 E 1st Street—the former Coffee Box.

Stop by, grab a donut, a sign, and meet the candidate. By his own account, connecting with people has been the best part of the campaign so far.

When “Dialogue” Gets Shut Down

Indivisible Sequim, now aligned with the League of Women Voters under the banner of “defending democracy,” appears to be limiting that very principle.

Comments are being turned off. Users are being removed—some reportedly for simply reading CC Watchdog.

At some point, it stops looking like civic engagement and starts looking like ideological gatekeeping — a signature trait of League of Women Voters activism.

Let’s be clear about what CC Watchdog is—and isn’t.

This is opinion. It’s grounded in facts, but it doesn’t pretend neutrality. The goal isn’t to present every side equally—it’s to push for transparency and accountability in local government.

You don’t have to agree. You don’t even have to read it.

But shutting down discussion because you don’t like the perspective? That says more about the critics than the content.

“Grassroots” with a D.C. Detour

Indivisible Sequim is also asking for donations.

But there’s a catch: contributions are routed through The Indivisible Project in Washington, D.C., before (they say) returning to local efforts.

For a “grassroots” organization, that’s an interesting structure.

A Steakhouse and a Double Standard

A new upscale steakhouse—Crazy Harry’s—is opening across from Sequim City Hall.

Not everyone is thrilled.

One commenter argued it represents the divide between “haves and have-nots.” This, from someone affiliated with the local food bank—an organization with no income limits, where luxury vehicles regularly line up for free groceries.

Public records show a home tied to the same name valued at over $800,000.

So which is it?

Running a restaurant in Clallam County is a financial gamble. It takes capital, risk, and long hours. Meanwhile, some institutions distribute goods with no eligibility requirements.

One model requires effort. The other, increasingly, does not.

Food Banks… and Legal Clinics?

The Port Angeles Food Bank is now hosting a free “Tenant Rights Seminar,” offering legal consultations on eviction and renter protections.

Which leads to a simple question:

Where’s the landlord rights seminar?

Sequim, or Seguin?

A historical map recently surfaced suggesting Sequim may once have been called “Seguin.”

That challenges the widely accepted origin story—that “Sequim” derived from the Klallam word “Skwim,” meaning “hunting grounds.”

Local history may not be as settled as we think.

Politics Disguised as Conservation

Local activist Tim Wheeler took to Facebook to frame the Clallam Conservation District election as something far bigger than conservation.

According to Wheeler, candidate Wendy Rae Johnson’s involvement in rallies, vigils, and social justice causes made the race a stand against “MAGA extremists.”

He also claimed CCD staff are unpaid volunteers.

They’re not.

Public records show compensation ranging from $40 to $79 per hour.

Meanwhile, a new $5 parcel fee will transfer roughly $2 million from property owners to the CCD over the next decade.

Apparently, that’s now part of the fight against extremism.

Endorsements and Contradictions

State candidate Kaylee Kuehn has secured an endorsement from Commissioner Mike French, praising his leadership and commitment to public service.

This is the same commissioner who has publicly stated that property destruction is “usually the only way we’ve ever seen actual change happen.”

Voters can decide how those two ideas fit together.

The Weekly Reality Check

This week’s scanner reports tell a familiar story:

Repeat shoplifters, released again.
Mental health crises at the transit center.
Violent offenders cycling through the system.
Indecent exposure incidents.

Just another week in Clallam County.

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A 15-year-old took the podium. But the question that lingered afterward wasn’t what they said—it was who put them there, and why.

On December 22nd last year, just twenty minutes before the 2025 Charter Review Commission wrapped up and slipped into dormancy for the next four years, the youngest public commenter of the entire year approached the podium.

What followed caught the room off guard.

Here is what the student said, in full:

“Hello, I choose not to state my name. I’m a minor. I just recently turned 15 years old. I’m a freshman and I’m part of Sequim High School’s Mock Trial Program. I recently saw a post on social media from one of the Charter Review Commissioners. Its title, ‘Blindfold Removed,’ and was posted December 16th, 2025. This post was regarding inappropriate topics such as acting out pedophilia while referring to people who were networked to another commissioner. Photos which are unrelated contain students in mock trial and they are not his property and were not stated from where they were from. There were four minors in said photo. I’m sorry, I think I may have restated something. It’s a submitted photo to the Sequim Gazette published in an article by Michael Dashiell February 1st, 2023. One of the students is a young woman who is a current Sequim High School student who I look up to. I’m concerned for her and my fellow peers, as the comments, which are unmoderated by said commissioner, stated that anyone networked to the people in these photos were bullied, bullies, or were molested. How far is an elected official allowed to go when using free speech to cause outrage by using disgust and involving minors, attacking my advisors and in turn attacking me and my peers. Thank you for your time.”

[Watch the public comment by clicking here and advancing to 3:09:45.]

The student was clearly referring to me and my article, “Blindfold Removed.”

That article focused on Charter Review Commission Chairwoman Susan Fisch and what many observed as a pattern of selective enforcement—rules for some, exceptions for others. It documented instances where agenda items were blocked, political allies were accommodated, and decorum was unevenly applied. It also highlighted a specific incident involving a supporter who disrupted public proceedings while Susan Fisch allowed it to continue.

The student’s comment was, at times, difficult to follow. But for a 15-year-old, it was still impressive. Civic engagement at that age should be encouraged.

But something didn’t sit right.

The phrasing.
The structure.
The framing of the argument.

It didn’t sound like a student speaking organically. It sounded… coached.

A Serious Line Was Crossed

There’s another piece of this that cannot be ignored.

Embedded in the student’s remarks—and in the broader narrative surrounding that post—was an implied connection between me and inappropriate conduct involving minors.

Let’s be very clear about what that means.

In modern society, suggesting that someone has inappropriate intentions toward minors is among the most serious and damaging implications that can be made. It carries reputational consequences that can follow a person indefinitely, regardless of whether there is any evidence behind it.

Layer onto that the reality that I am gay.

For decades, one of the most harmful and false stereotypes pushed against gay individuals was the idea that they posed a danger to children. That narrative has been widely discredited, but its use—implicit or explicit—remains deeply offensive and dangerous.

Whether intentional or not, the framing of these comments echoed that same stereotype.

That’s not just inappropriate—it’s reckless.

And when those implications are introduced into a public setting, involving minors, and tied to political disagreements, it raises the stakes considerably.

Because at that point, this isn’t about criticism or disagreement anymore.

It’s about crossing a line that should never be crossed.

So Who’s Coaching the Kids?

The student identified themself as affiliated with the Sequim High School’s Mock Trial program.

That program didn’t appear out of thin air.

It was started with the involvement of retired judge Susan Fisch and retired lawyer and current Sequim School Board member Patrice Johnston—both activists with the League of Women Voters, and both directly involved in controversies surrounding the Charter Review Commission.

According to reporting from the Sequim Gazette, the program was launched with outside support, including a $700 civics from the League of Women Voters. The club itself is designed to teach students how to argue cases using facts, evidence, and structured reasoning.

That’s the goal, at least.

But that’s where the contradiction begins.

During the Charter Review process, Johnston advocated for rules that would have restricted the reporting of publicly available information—rules that would have directly impacted watchdog journalism and public transparency.

That’s not a minor policy disagreement. That goes to the core of how free speech is understood.

The First Amendment does not exist to protect comfortable speech. It exists to protect speech that is critical, inconvenient, and, at times, unwelcome—especially to those in positions of authority.

What was being proposed—and defended—moved in the opposite direction.

Limiting the reporting of public information.
Reframing criticism as harassment.
Drawing boundaries around lawful expression.

That isn’t a misinterpretation of the First Amendment.

It’s a rejection of it.

And when individuals, like Susan Fisch and Patrice Johnston, in positions of influence—particularly those helping shape how students understand law, argument, and civic engagement—get something that fundamentally wrong, it raises a much bigger question:

What exactly are they teaching the next generation about free speech, dissent, and accountability?

At the same time, Fisch and Johnston publicly accused CC Watchdog of bullying, harassment, and intimidation—claims that were never supported with verifiable evidence.

Then, just hours before a special meeting, an anonymous email surfaced making those same accusations.

According to retired judge Susan Fisch, the “evidence” was the email itself.

No corroboration.
No documentation.
Just allegation.

The Pattern Matters

If this were an isolated moment, it would be easy to dismiss.

But it isn’t.

The Sequim School District has faced a series of controversies over the past decade:

• A $40,000 settlement over a Public Records Act violation regarding transparency

• A lawsuit alleging misconduct and retaliation involving staff

• Suspension of top administrators

• Curriculum controversies involving sensitive topics

• Student safety threats and arrests

• A mass disciplinary incident involving 45 students

• The resignation of former School Board member Jim Stoffer amid allegations that he shared confidential information, following efforts to censure him

Individually, each incident can be explained away.

Together, they paint a picture.

A pattern of strained trust.
A pattern of questionable judgment.
A pattern of blurred lines between authority and accountability.

When Education Becomes Advocacy

Mock Trial is supposed to teach students how to think—not what to think.

How to evaluate evidence.
How to argue both sides.
How to understand that disagreement is not an attack.

But what happens when the adults leading that program are themselves deeply entangled in political disputes?

What happens when those same adults are the subject of criticism—and suddenly, students appear at public meetings echoing those narratives?

That’s where concern shifts from education… to influence.

A Community Concern, Not Just a Personal One

This is my platform.
My opinion.
My perspective.

But I’m not alone.

Many who attended that meeting—or watched it online—came away with the same question:

Was that student speaking for themself… or for someone else?

Because if students are being encouraged—directly or indirectly—to participate in political disputes involving the very adults overseeing their education, that’s a line that should not be crossed.

Where This Leaves Us

I grew up in the Sequim School District.

So did my parents.
So did my grandparents.
So did my great-grandparents.

My mom served on the Sequim School Board decades before it became entangled in the kind of political activism we see today from figures like Patrice Johnston and Jim Stoffer.

This isn’t abstract to me. It’s personal.

And that’s why this matters.

Because when education starts to look like advocacy,
when mentorship starts to look like influence,
and when students start appearing in adult political conflicts—

We owe it to them to ask questions.

What Happens Next

I am formally requesting an investigation into a potential inappropriate relationship between League of Women Voters–affiliated activists and students involved in the Sequim High School Mock Trial program.

If wrongdoing is found:

• The program should be disbanded or placed under new leadership

• Appropriate safeguards should be implemented

• And any conflicts of interest should be addressed immediately

Additionally, I am requesting that School Board member Patrice Johnston recuse herself from any involvement in this matter.

Because if we are going to teach students about justice—

We should probably model it first.

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Today’s Tidbit

Subject: Request for Review — Mock Trial Program

To: rnickels@sequimschools.org, epickens@sequimschools.org, mhalvorsen@sequimschools.org, nbell@sequimschools.org, mrocha@sequimschools.org

April 9, 2026

Dear Members of the Sequim School Board and Superintendent,

I am writing to formally raise concerns regarding the Sequim High School Mock Trial program and the potential involvement of students in adult political matters.

At a December Charter Review Commission meeting, a minor affiliated with the Mock Trial program delivered public comments tied to an ongoing political dispute involving adults connected to the program’s leadership. While student civic engagement should be encouraged, the circumstances surrounding these remarks have raised reasonable questions about whether the student was acting independently or may have been influenced, prepared, or coached by individuals in positions of authority.

The public comment can be viewed by clicking here and advancing to 3:09:45.

This concern is heightened by the fact that individuals associated with the program, Susan Fisch and Patrice Johnston, have also been directly involved in the underlying political controversy. When students appear in public forums addressing disputes involving their own advisors or program leaders, it creates the appearance—whether intended or not—of students being placed in the middle of adult conflicts.

Additionally, I am concerned about the broader civic framework being modeled for students. During the Charter Review process, proposals advanced by Mock Trial advisors Susan Fisch and Patrice Johnston would have limited the reporting of publicly available information and recharacterized criticism as harassment. These positions raise questions about how foundational principles such as the First Amendment, free speech, and open public discourse are being conveyed to students participating in programs intended to teach law and civic engagement.

I also want to raise a separate and serious concern. The content and framing of the student’s remarks, combined with related public commentary, appeared to suggest an implied association between me and inappropriate conduct involving minors. As you can understand, such implications—whether intentional or not—carry significant reputational harm. Given the historical misuse of similar insinuations, particularly toward individuals who are gay, this is not a trivial matter and warrants careful consideration.

Based on these concerns, I am formally requesting a district-led investigation into potential inappropriate conduct and boundary violations involving adults affiliated with the Mock Trial program and students participating in that program.

Specifically, I am requesting that the district examine whether individuals connected to the program—including those in positions of authority or influence, such as Susan Fisch and School Board member Patrice Johnston—have in any way:

• Directed, encouraged, or influenced students to participate in public political disputes involving those same adults

• Used their roles in an educational setting to advance personal, political, or reputational interests

• Crossed appropriate boundaries between mentorship, instruction, and influence over students

Students should never be placed—directly or indirectly—in the middle of adult conflicts, particularly when those conflicts involve their own advisors or authority figures. Any appearance of such involvement warrants serious and independent review.

In addition, I am requesting:

• That School Board member Patrice Johnston recuse herself from any involvement in this matter to avoid conflicts of interest

• That the district clearly outlines the scope, process, and findings of this investigation

• That appropriate corrective actions be taken if any misconduct or boundary violations are identified

I appreciate your attention to this matter and respectfully request a response outlining how the district intends to review and address these concerns.

Sincerely,
Jeff Tozzer

While county commissioners here debate letters of support and hold work sessions, a federal program has already transferred nearly 3 million acres into tribal control—by design. The same strategy now mirrors what’s happening in Clallam County, where land, influence, and decision-making power are steadily shifting. The question isn’t whether this is happening. It’s whether anyone representing local residents is willing to say it out loud.

This Isn’t New—It’s Been Happening for a Decade

For years, residents have been told that land transfers, trust acquisitions, and expanding tribal influence are isolated decisions—case-by-case, unique, and limited.

They’re not.

They’re part of a coordinated federal strategy.

According to a Department of the Interior report, the federal government has:

• Paid out $1.69 billion

• Consolidated nearly 3 million acres

• Worked hand-in-hand with tribes to identify and prioritize land for transfer

All under a program specifically designed to move land into permanent tribal trust ownership.

This isn’t speculation. It’s policy.

Local Case: The Wildlife Refuge Push Isn’t an Outlier

Now bring it home.

In Clallam County, we’re watching a strikingly similar pattern unfold:

• The Jamestown Corporation pursuing control of Dungeness and Protection Island National Wildlife Refuges

• Local governments being asked to provide letters of support

• Public concern being brushed aside as misunderstanding or opposition

Sound familiar?

It should.

Because the federal report makes clear that:

• Tribes help identify priority lands

• Federal agencies work to align acquisitions with tribal goals

• Outreach and coordination are built to facilitate those transfers

In other words, what’s happening here fits the model exactly.

Where Does Ron Allen Fit Into This?

Let’s be precise.

There is no direct mention of Jamestown S’Klallam Chairman Ron Allen in this specific federal report.

However:

• The program emphasizes strong federal-tribal partnerships

• It relies heavily on tribal leadership to guide priorities

• It promotes nation-to-nation coordination and influence

Ron Allen is widely recognized as one of the most politically connected and influential tribal leaders in Washington State, particularly in federal policy circles.

So while he’s not named in this document, the type of leadership structure the program depends on is exactly the kind of influence he operates within.

That matters.

Because it shows that what may appear locally as a single tribe’s initiative is often supported by a much larger federal framework and network of relationships.

The Priority Problem: Who Is Government Working For?

One of the most revealing lines in the report isn’t hidden—it’s stated plainly:

• Tribal input was “critical”

• Efforts were tailored to tribal priorities

• Land selection was guided by tribal leadership

Now ask the obvious question:

Where in this process are county residents represented?

Where is:

• The taxpayer?

• The neighboring landowner?

• The competing local business?

• The public that has used these lands for generations?

They’re not in the framework.

The Long Game: This Looks a Lot Like “Land Back”

The report avoids political language—but the direction is clear.

It openly calls for:

• Continued land consolidation

• Additional funding to expand the program

• Policies that increase tribal land control and jurisdiction

That’s not a short-term fix.

That’s a long-term transfer strategy.

Call it what you want—but functionally, it aligns with what many now describe as the landback movement.

The Silence at the Local Level

Here’s the uncomfortable part.

This is all happening while:

• County commissioners rarely challenge or question these efforts

• Letters of support are considered with minimal scrutiny

• Public concern is often dismissed or ignored

And yet, the consequences are real:

• Land moves out of the local tax base

• Regulatory authority shifts

• Economic competition becomes uneven

This isn’t about opposing tribes.

It’s about asking whether your elected officials are representing you in a system where others clearly have a seat at the table.

The Pattern Is the Story

This isn’t about one land transfer.

It’s not about one tribe.

It’s about a repeatable, scalable model that has already reshaped land ownership across the country—and is now visible in Clallam County.

The federal government calls it restoration.

Tribal leaders call it sovereignty.

But for local residents, the question is simpler:

Who is making sure your interests are part of the conversation?

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Download the Land Buyback Program for Tribal Nations here:

Tribe Land Buy Back Program

13.2MB ∙ PDF file

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Today’s Tidbit: The Olympic Herald

If you aren’t subscribed to the Olympic Herald, you should be. While much of the local narrative gets filtered or softened by legacy media, the Olympic Herald’s reporting has been peeling back layer after layer of what’s really happening inside the Clallam County court system—and it’s not flattering. The pattern that’s emerging is hard to ignore, and frankly, it should concern anyone who still believes justice is applied evenly.

Two recent cases they highlighted tell the story better than any commentary could:

• Aaron Fisher received 90 months—seven and a half years—for the death of 70-year-old Richard Madeo near the Sequim Safeway gas station during last year’s Irrigation Festival.

• Richard Loren Pratt was sentenced to 116 months—nearly ten years—in Grays Harbor County for killing at least five cow elk.

Read that again.

A human life: 7.5 years.
Five elk: nearly a decade.

Draw your own conclusions, but it’s difficult to reconcile those outcomes without asking what, exactly, is being prioritized—and whether the system is delivering proportional justice.

This is precisely why independent journalism matters. When local courtrooms operate largely out of public view, it takes persistent, unfiltered reporting to surface the outcomes that demand scrutiny. If nothing else, these cases should prompt a broader conversation about accountability, consistency, and whether the scales of justice in our region are as balanced as we’re led to believe.

For years, the Jamestown Tribe’s newsletter was public. Now it’s restricted—available only to Tribal citizens who request it. Why the sudden change? After reviewing the latest issue, the answer may be uncomfortable: a steady stream of taxpayer-funded projects, expanding benefits, and business activity that directly competes with local residents—all happening with limited public visibility.

There was a time when anyone in Clallam County could go online and read the Jamestown Tribe’s monthly newsletter. That’s no longer the case. Now, unless you’re a Tribal citizen, you’ll see a message saying the site is “under construction” and be told to call or email to request access.

Transparency, apparently, now comes with conditions.

That might not raise eyebrows—until you actually look at what’s inside.

Public Money, Private Upgrades

One of the centerpiece articles, authored by the Washington State Department of Commerce, reads less like oversight and more like promotion. It opens with a long detour into the symbolism of the western red cedar—climate impacts, cultural references—but never really connects those ideas to anything concrete.

Then it gets to the real point: money.

State and federal grants are being used to upgrade tribal-owned housing—new roofs, insulation, heat pumps, and water systems.

On the surface, that sounds reasonable. Until you look closer at what some of those “housing” units actually are.

At least six of these properties are not basic housing—they’re high-end vacation rentals located on the golf course and marketed through the Tribe’s own resort platform. These are income-generating assets, competing directly with local vacation rentals, hotels, and small landlords throughout Clallam County.

And unlike every other operator in that space, they don’t operate on a level playing field. These properties are not subject to local property taxes, and in many cases, avoid the same lodging taxes and regulatory burdens that everyone else is required to navigate.

So the equation becomes hard to ignore: public dollars are being used to upgrade revenue-generating vacation properties… that then compete against the very taxpayers who funded them.

That’s not just economic development—it’s government-funded competition.

The Grant Pipeline Never Stops

The newsletter makes one thing clear: grant funding is everywhere.

• Nearly $900,000 for housing upgrades alone

• Over $1.3 million for a solar microgrid project

• Additional clean energy and infrastructure funding layered on top

And then there’s the bucket truck—purchased with Department of Energy grant funds.

The justification? It will maintain tribal powerlines and infrastructure.

Fair question: what powerlines? And if it’s a regional asset, why is it owned exclusively by one entity?

The newsletter frames it as generosity—The Tribe will let others use it if needed. But the reality is simpler: state and federal dollars paid for it.

Your money.

Expanding Services for a Shrinking Population

The Tribe continues to expand social and community services—adding new case managers, clinical staff, and program administrators.

At the same time, the newsletter highlights ongoing elder services, food programs, and subsidized support systems available to Tribal citizens:

• Food pantry access up to 400% of federal poverty levels

  

• Elder meal delivery and events

• Case management and employment assistance

• Cultural stipends ($40/hour for participation)

These are real benefits—substantial ones. But they exist alongside a broader county population that is struggling with housing, addiction, and access to basic services.

Two systems. One funded largely by the same taxpayers.

Treaty Rights, Subsidized Access

The newsletter also highlights subsistence cards and treaty-managed harvests—tracking every fish and shellfish taken to maintain allocation shares.

These are long-standing rights—but they come with infrastructure, staffing, and enforcement supported in part by public funding streams.

Again, the question isn’t whether these programs exist—it’s who pays for them, and who benefits.

Carefully Framed Messaging

In a more subtle section, the Tribe advises citizens on how to interact with federal immigration authorities, offering guidance and “Know Your Rights” materials.

It’s framed as safety and awareness—but it also reflects a broader pattern: messaging that emphasizes external threats, internal cohesion, and reliance on tribal systems.

The Railroad Bridge Question

Then there’s the Railroad Bridge.

The Tribe owns it. The total cost to replace it is estimated at $3.1 million. Yet:

• They’ve already received $2.55 million in state funding

• They’ve launched a capital campaign asking for donations

• The shortfall is roughly half a million dollars — the same amount they spend on Christmas lights each year

This is from an organization that routinely generates over $100 million in revenue annually.

At some point, it’s fair to ask:
Why is the public always expected to fill the gap?

Why Hide the Newsletter?

Taken individually, each of these items can be explained away.

Together, they tell a different story:

• Public funding flowing into privately controlled assets

• Business activity competing with local residents

• Expanding benefits unavailable to the general public

• Continued reliance on grants and subsidies

• And now, reduced public visibility into it all

Which brings us back to the original question:

If this is all above board… why make the newsletter harder to access?

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Download the April Jamestown Tribal Newsletter here:

Tribal Newsletter April 2026 Digital

7.27MB ∙ PDF file

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Today’s Tidbit: “None of the White Man’s Business?”

One item in Saturday’s Social Media article sparked a lively comment thread—and it’s worth a closer look.

A comment claimed that what the Jamestown Tribe does is “none of the white man’s business.”

It wasn’t anonymous.

It was posted by Jonathan Arakawa—a youth leader who is already working within local schools, helping shape curriculum and student understanding of tribal sovereignty, civic engagement, and governance. According to his own organization, he has presented to hundreds of middle school students and helped train school staff in these areas.

That’s what makes this notable.

This isn’t some fringe opinion—it’s coming from someone actively involved in educating the next generation, under the banner of “unity” and “social wellness.”

And yet, the message here is exclusionary.

You can’t promote civic engagement on one hand, while telling part of the public that local issues are none of their business on the other.

Especially when those same issues involve public funding, public policy, and economic activity that impacts the entire community.

When Commissioner Mark Ozias responds to concerned citizens, a pattern emerges: blame Washington, D.C., defend current policies, and dismiss the role of local decision-making. But the conditions on the ground in Clallam County tell a different story—one shaped not by distant policymakers, but by years of choices made right here at home.

If you haven’t subscribed to Clallam County Letters, you’re missing some of the most provocative exchanges between concerned citizens and the officials elected to represent them.

When a Clallam County resident recently reached out to the Board of Commissioners, Commissioner Mark Ozias responded with a familiar explanation: homelessness is being driven by rising costs and cuts to the federal safety net.

It’s a convenient answer. It’s also incomplete.

Commissioner Ozias has served in local government for over a decade. The president he references has been in office just over a year. Yet somehow, the responsibility for what we’re seeing on our streets—addiction, disorder, and growing encampments—belongs almost entirely to the federal government.

That doesn’t hold up.

Not every county in America is experiencing the level of overdose deaths and public disorder that Clallam County is. Local policy matters. Local leadership matters. And local outcomes reflect local decisions.

Authority When It’s Convenient

In his response, Ozias also defended Health Officer Dr. Allison Berry, stating:

“Dr. Berry is not a police officer and cannot arrest or forcibly move anyone…”

But that explanation raises an obvious question.

During COVID, Dr. Berry exercised sweeping authority—mandating masks, requiring proof of vaccination for entry into restaurants, and shutting down businesses that did not comply.

She had authority then.

Now, when it comes to addressing public health hazards tied to encampments, open drug use, and environmental degradation, we’re told her authority is limited.

Which is it?

A False Choice — and an Inappropriate One

In another response to a constituent, Ozias wrote:

“If your argument is ‘let them die rather than trying to save their life with Narcan’ I would just say that I do not agree with you, though I certainly know others who share your opinion.”

No one made that argument.

It’s a strawman—and an inappropriate one. Concerned residents are not advocating for death. They’re asking why current policies appear to enable continued addiction without requiring a path to recovery.

That’s not cruelty. That’s concern.

What’s Missing: Personal Responsibility

Commissioner Ozias frames the issue this way:

“It is not harm reduction that is causing people to live on the street and/or to be addicted to drugs. Rather it is the lack of affordable housing and a decayed social safety net that are leaving people without options.”

Housing matters. But this framing leaves out a critical piece: personal responsibility.

People do not become addicted to fentanyl because rent is too high.

Addiction is a behavioral and medical issue. It requires treatment, accountability, and intervention. What we’re seeing instead is a system that often provides services without expectations.

When there are no expectations, behavior doesn’t change.

When Policy Becomes the Problem

This isn’t theoretical. It’s already playing out.

Peninsula Behavioral Health’s North View luxury apartments for the homeless represent a model of permanent supportive housing where drug and alcohol use will be permitted and tolerated. Similar approaches in Seattle offer a preview of what follows.

In Seattle’s Beacon Hill neighborhood, four parks have effectively been overtaken by an open-air drug market. Hundreds of people living in tents. Open use. Dealers operating openly. Residents threatened. Public spaces lost.

One local observer put it plainly:

“This is not a down-and-out homeless camp… This is an open-air drug market. There’s prostitution, theft, dealing, using, property destruction.”

Another described the policy mindset behind it:

“Somewhere in the last decade, Seattle decided that leaving people to rot in public parks was the enlightened approach… That’s what we are calling compassion.”

This isn’t a housing crisis—it’s a drug crisis. And until our leaders are willing to acknowledge that, the current approach won’t reduce suffering; it will continue to concentrate it.

Closer to Home

For many in Clallam County, this already feels familiar.

Drive past Serenity House in Port Angeles, and you’ll see it: open use, visible dealing, makeshift privacy screens just feet from families trying to live normal lives.

One resident described the contrast:

A man playing catch with his son in front of housing units—while just yards away, a drug economy operates in plain sight.

That’s not a housing crisis.

That’s a policy failure.

The Affordability Argument Falls Apart

If unaffordable housing is the root cause, then what have county leaders done to make housing more affordable?

The record suggests the opposite:

• The county commissioners regularly support tax increases

• The commissioners back policies that shift land into tax-exempt trust status

• Through the Washington State Association of Counties, the commissioners lobby for expanded taxing authority without a public vote

Each of these decisions increases the burden on property owners—and drives costs higher.

You cannot cite affordability as the problem while advancing policies that make it worse.

A Dead End

In a recent podcast responding to Commissioner Ozias’ remarks—titled “A Pathetic Deflection”—Clallamity Jen and The Strait Shooter captured the Board of Commissioners’ approach with a line that hits uncomfortably close to home:

“The best place to turn around is a dead end.”

Clallam County has hit that dead end.

We are now 16 years into a 10-year plan to end homelessness. More money is being spent than ever before. Outcomes continue to decline.

At some point, the question isn’t whether we’re trying hard enough.

It’s whether we’re trying the right things at all.

What Comes Next

This is not a problem beyond our control.

The County—through the Board of Health and its Health Officer—has both the authority and the obligation to address conditions that threaten public health and safety.

What’s missing isn’t funding.

It’s a willingness to change course.

Because we cannot fix a problem we refuse to acknowledge.

And until that happens, the gap between what residents are experiencing—and what they’re being told—will only continue to grow.

What to Watch Today

This afternoon at 4:30 p.m., the Port Angeles City Council will hold a special meeting to discuss “Camping and Encampment.”

For residents who have been raising concerns about public safety, open drug use, and the growing impact of encampments, this is an opportunity to pay attention.

Click here for instructions on how to attend, either in person or virtually.

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Today’s Tidbit

The City of Sequim is reminding residents to keep their lawns mowed—warning that overgrown grass may be deemed a public nuisance if it obstructs sidewalks, threatens public health or safety, attracts rodents, or diminishes neighborhood character.

Just across from City Hall:

For eight months, Clallam County’s request for a simple conversation about taxes has been met with silence. But when the Jamestown Corporation wants something—letters of support, land transfers, legislative backing—the machinery of local government moves instantly. Emails show not just cooperation, but deference. And now, as the Commissioners prepare to discuss a response to the BIA—possibly for the first time in over a decade—the public is left with a fundamental question: who is really leading Clallam County?

The Double Standard, in Plain Sight

In August, the Clallam County Commissioners sent a letter to the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe.

It wasn’t hostile. It wasn’t political. It wasn’t even demanding.

It simply asked for a conversation—specifically, whether the tribal corporation would consider contributing more toward property taxes and lodging taxes that fund county services.

Eight months later?

Nothing.

No response. No meeting. No acknowledgment.

When the County followed up, the reply they received was as revealing as it was dismissive:

“We will let you know if/when we need further conversations.”

That wasn’t a partnership. That was a signal.

But When Jamestown Asks—Everything Moves

Contrast that silence with what happens when the Jamestown Corporation wants something from the County.

The difference is immediate—and documented.

Internal emails show the Jamestown Corporation actively requesting a letter of support for federal legislation that would transfer the Dungeness and Protection Island National Wildlife Refuges into tribal trust.

Not just requesting.

Providing the letter.

Drafted. Structured. Ready for signature.

“I’m attaching a draft letter of support…”

From there, the process becomes almost automatic:

• The County schedules a work session around Jamestown’s availability

• Then Jamestown coordinates the timing

• Presentations are arranged to “educate” commissioners

• The draft letter—written externally—is positioned to go out under the Commissioners’ names

All before any meaningful public discussion.

Sequim Saw It First

This isn’t isolated.

The same playbook was used with the Sequim City Council.

As previously reported, a “letter of support” considered by Sequim wasn’t truly authored by the City—it was provided to them.

Officials didn’t write it.

But they’re considering adopting it.

And now, the same pattern is playing out at the County level.

Different jurisdiction. Same script.

Pushy When It Matters, Silent When It Doesn’t

The contrast is hard to ignore:

• When the County asks for a conversation → silence

• When the County follows up → deflection

• When Jamestown wants support → immediate coordination

• When legislation is involved → draft letters provided for signature

This isn’t just influence.

It’s asymmetry.

And it raises a deeper question about governance: is this a partnership—or a one-way expectation?

And What Happens When Citizens Speak Up?

There’s another layer to this dynamic—and it involves the public.

When engaged citizens raise concerns about land transfers, taxation, or the growing influence of the Jamestown Corporation, they aren’t met with meaningful dialogue. Too often, they’re dismissed—not just by tribal leadership, but by their own elected officials.

Jamestown Corporation CEO Ron Allen has characterized critics as “whiners and complainers” who need to be “set straight.”

Think about that.

Residents asking legitimate questions about public land, tax fairness, and local governance—reduced to a label.

But it doesn’t stop there.

Many citizens who attempt to engage with the Clallam County Board of Commissioners are being dismissed, ignored, or even belittled during public meetings and correspondence. Questions go unanswered. Concerns are minimized. Participation is tolerated—but rarely respected.

At the same time:

• The County’s own request for a conversation is ignored

• Public concerns are acknowledged privately, but not acted on publicly

• Letters of support move forward without meaningful public input

So where, exactly, is the space for the public?

Because it’s becoming increasingly clear:

If you’re an elected official aligned with Jamestown, your voice is elevated.

If you’re a citizen asking questions, your voice is diminished.

Weak Leadership Creates Strong Influence

There’s a common thread connecting the Clallam County Board of Commissioners and the Sequim City Council:

Weak leadership.

Because strong leadership asks questions.

Strong leadership negotiates.

Strong leadership doesn’t sign letters it didn’t write.

The Jamestown Corporation has proven effective at identifying and supporting candidates who align with their priorities:

• Financial backing in key campaigns

• Promotion of groups like the Sequim Good Governance League

• Relationships that translate into access—and outcomes

That’s not accidental.

That’s strategy.

What Happens Next Matters

Today’s work session may be one of the most important in years.

On the agenda:

• Discussion of a response to the Bureau of Indian Affairs regarding land transfer

• Discussion of transferring the Dungeness and Protection Island Wildlife Refuges

This could be the first time in over a decade that Clallam County formally responds to a federal trust land action.

The public can attend:

• In person

• Virtually

But there’s a catch: No public comment.

Which means the only voices in the room will be the ones already at the table.

The Real Question

This isn’t about being “for” or “against” the Jameston Tribe or Corporation.

It’s about balance.

It’s about accountability.

It’s about whether Clallam County represents its residents—or defers to whoever asks most effectively.

Because right now, the pattern is clear:

When the County asks, it waits.

When the Jamestown Corporation asks, it acts.

And that’s not governance.

That’s compliance.

Sign the Petition

Today’s Tidbit

In yesterday’s article, County Commissioner candidate Jake Seegers highlighted a troubling detail: a voucher distributed through the County’s Harm Reduction Center that allows recipients to take a free shower at the Shore Aquatic Center.

At the same time, according to the Clallam County Sheriff’s Office sex offender registry, there are currently 27 registered sex offenders in Port Angeles—more than a third of them listed as transient.

The Shore Aquatic Center isn’t just another facility—it’s where families bring their children. It’s where kids use locker rooms, often out of direct sight of parents, with the expectation that the environment is safe.

Residents need to be aware of this when they drop off their grandkids at the pool—or when their kids head into a locker room, and they tell them they’ll meet them in a few minutes, trusting that nothing will go wrong.

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In this week’s Sundays With Seegers, County Commissioner candidate Jake Seegers examines a brutal 30-minute assault on the Laurel Street stairs—an incident that unfolded in the downtown core without intervention. Jake connects the violence to a broader pattern: policies that tolerate instability, avoid enforcement, and increasingly normalize outdoor living. The question is no longer whether it’s working—but whether anyone will change course.

Assault on a Landing

At 5:02 a.m., February 22, on the stairway behind the downtown Port Angeles fountain, a homeless man—Jake Veach—sat beside his camp, recently established on the first landing from the top.

What followed was not a brief altercation or a momentary loss of control. According to the police report, the violence stretched over roughly thirty minutes—an extended, escalating assault carried out in plain view on public property, just below a neighborhood of families.

During that time, according to the police report, Mr. Veach was repeatedly kicked, stomped on, and struck by the suspect, Isoble Snow.

The report makes clear that he attempted to disengage, at times sitting back down and trying to avoid further conflict with Snow. But the assaults continued—again and again—over a sustained period that should give anyone pause.

Thirty minutes.

That detail matters. It speaks not only to the brutality of the attack, but to the absence of interruption—no effective intervention, no meaningful disruption, no system stepping in before things escalated further. All of it captured on camera. All of it unfolding on a public pedestrian connection between a residential neighborhood and the downtown core.

At approximately 5:33 AM, the violence intensified. The report indicates that the suspect, Isobel Snow, stabbed Mr. Veach in the left tricep multiple times. When he attempted to grab her hand—possibly to disarm her—his right hand was lacerated.

Even after the stabbing, the incident did not immediately end. Mr. Veach collapsed, clutching his arm. The suspect moved away, then re-engaged. The confrontation continued before eventually de-escalating into conversation—and even an embrace.

At 5:51 AM, the incident was reported. Responding officers arrived to find both individuals next to a large pool of blood on the stair landing.

According to officers, Mr. Veach claimed his injuries were self-inflicted or the result of “falling on scissors.” Ms. Snow stated she arrived to find him bleeding and called for help.

Historical Context

Disclaimer: The following section reflects personal observations and conversations, as well as accounts from individuals living in the area. It is not part of the official police report and has not been independently verified.

I met Jake in mid-February. His camp, at the time, was feet from Tumwater Creek.

He collected rocks. I happened to have a small stone in my pocket from the beach and offered it to him. He accepted it with appreciation. We talked for about fifteen minutes.

Jake told me he came from Idaho, in part because Washington offers more services—specifically, clean drug use supplies. He said he had been living along Tumwater Creek for two to three years.

He was candid about his drug use:

“Everybody has to use out here. If you’re homeless, you have to.”

He appreciated the food, clothing, and supplies available through local programs, including the County’s Harm Reduction Health Clinic. But he also expressed frustration—suggesting, for example, that syringe distribution should require exchanges.

More importantly, he expressed a desire to get out.

He wanted inpatient treatment. Stability. A way forward.

When asked what would happen if enforcement made outdoor living no longer an option, he said he would go to Serenity House temporarily—and then he would “leave town.”

A Bit Downstream

Later that month, the contents of an abandoned camp spilled down the bank of Tumwater Creek—scattering solid waste across Port of Port Angeles–owned property just north of Jake’s camp.

According to a reliable eyewitness, the camp had previously been occupied by Isobel Snow.

Signs of drug use were just steps away.

The same source also identified Snow’s previous encampment, which had burned to the ground.

Prior to the incident on the stairs, Mr. Veach and Ms. Snow reportedly had a history that included a domestic violence no-contact order.

The assault on the Laurel Street stairs was captured on camera. But it raises a larger question: how much violence and instability goes unseen—hidden by dense brush, distance, and the constant rush of Tumwater Creek?

If this is what unfolds in a visible, monitored location, what is happening in the places we don’t see?

When Advocacy Becomes Enablement

At the March 17th meeting of the City of Port Angeles City Council, nearly an hour of public comment was delivered. A clear pattern emerged.

Speaker after speaker urged the city to allow outdoor camping to continue—many calling for fewer restrictions, or a hands-off approach so long as camps appeared orderly.

It did not feel spontaneous. The repetition in language and framing suggested coordination, with many speakers advancing nearly identical ideas.

One commenter urged the city to establish areas where unhoused individuals could “exist safely… with sanitation… and protection from harassment.” Another warned that “attempts to prohibit camping and encampments are a clear attack on homeless populations.”

Others advocated for designated outdoor communities “where these people can reside in safe, secure… communities,” while one speaker cautioned that banning camping “would be devastating… there’s nowhere else to go.”

Perhaps most telling was the suggestion that, “If a campsite is clean and the people aren’t harassing anyone, leave it.”

Taken together, the message was consistent: outdoor living should be preserved and protected.

But what happened on the Laurel Street stairs raises a difficult question—what does that look like in practice?

When Leaders Can’t Say “No”

Maybe the stabbing at Laurel Street could have been avoided.

Instead, individuals with known instability—living outside despite available shelter capacity—are enabled by a system that provides resources, access, and freedom without consistent expectations or enforcement.

This is not an isolated incident—it is a glimpse into a lawless society encouraged to grow at the expense of the lawful.

The City of Port Angeles has repeatedly failed to enforce existing trespass laws or meaningfully address unauthorized encampments.

The Clallam County Board of Health and Health Officer Allison Berry have refused to comply with their lawful duty to “prevent, control or abate nuisances which are detrimental to public health,” when conditions deteriorate on public or private land.

Meanwhile, harm reduction efforts have expanded without sufficient accountability for outcomes. Supplies are distributed widely, and in many cases, are discarded unused, contributing to growing waste in public spaces and sensitive environments.

Residents have taken notice. The Lincoln Street Safeway is now commonly referred to by some as the “UnSafeway,” reflecting concerns about open drug use and dealing.

Panhandling continues, often unaddressed, contributing to a steady flow of cash into the drug trade.

Basic services are widely available—but many are concentrated in the same areas where drug activity is prevalent.

Free food is abundant. WSU Extension keeps an active document of local food resources here.

Showers are available at Serenity House, Salvation Army, The Answer for Youth (TAFY), and now in the same locker rooms utilized by children and families at the taxpayer-funded William Shore Memorial Pool. Transients are invited to shower Monday through Friday between 5:30 am and 10:30 am.

TAFY provides free tents and camping gear and pays for propane tank refills at a nearby gas station—fuel that is often used for unventilated heating sources inside tents.

City, Port, and County-owned property has effectively become a largely unregulated option for outdoor camping, substance abuse, and illegal dumping.

Clallam Transit connects all of these services with convenience, free of charge.

The map below is not exhaustive, but it illustrates the network of services, resources, and lack of enforcement that made the Laurel Street Stairs a prime location for this incident.

The Officer Who Said “No”

In contrast, one moment in the report stands out.

When Ms. Snow asked to smoke a used cigarette from an ashtray while in custody, the arresting officer refused.

He followed protocol. He held the line.

It’s a small detail—but a telling one.

Because, in a system where nearly every request is accommodated, the first “no” can trigger instability. According to the report, Ms. Snow reacted by repeatedly striking her head against the divider in the patrol car.

Like a spoiled child who is granted their every request, when finally told “no,” Ms. Snow melted down into a tantrum.

That reaction is not random. It reflects a broader pattern—one shaped by a system that too often avoids setting limits.

Private Landowners Caught in the Middle

Not all stakeholders have accepted this trajectory.

The Port of Port Angeles has taken active steps to address trespassing, waste, and environmental damage on its property.

During a February 24, 2026 Port Commission meeting, Port Security Lead Jack Lowell outlined efforts to address these issues, including active vegetation management to improve visibility and deter camping, the placement of “No Trespassing” signage across Port property, increased security patrols, and a $70,000 fence installation along 18th Street near the airport, across from Serenity House.

Security staff also make near-nightly contact with campers, asking them to move along—some comply, while others stubbornly refuse.

Port staff praised collaborative efforts with local clean-up non-profit 4PA and said that:

“They, more often than not, come up with solutions for us for some of the individuals who do need to be housed.”

Port staff did not report the same level of success when working with the City of Port Angeles and Clallam County.

They cited nearly weekly complaints to the Port Angeles Police Department requesting enforcement, along with stalled coordination efforts involving the City Council, PAPD, the city attorney’s office, and code enforcement. Staff noted that enforcement is often deferred, with trespass notices rarely issued. Instead, complaints are typically routed to code enforcement the following day.

Port Commissioner Connie Beauvais described conditions along Tumwater Creek bluntly:

“It’s starting to look like its own urban area.”

Port Commissioner Colleen McAleer shared a personal experience that underscores growing safety concerns:

“There’s also the issue that sometimes these people are desperate and trying to obtain funds for their drug habits. I work downtown and I’ve been followed to my car at night. Someone tried to get into my car after I got in. They are scary situations. It’s all part of downtown Port Angeles, and I see and deal with it at least weekly.”

Port CEO Paul Jarkiewicz questioned whether the current location of the County’s Harm Reduction Health Center is appropriate:

“Maybe we take that offering of service that is centrally located in the central business district and move it to a location better suited to serving that need. The Harm Reduction Center is literally right behind the Port office, and what we see—from early morning to late evening—is constant movement of people coming to and from it. I’m not sure it’s properly located.”

Despite ongoing efforts by Port security staff, Port-owned land continues to experience persistent trespass, encampments, and drug use, along with the accumulation of solid and human waste and debris originating from nearby activity.

Fires and propane tank explosions have also occurred on Port property.

As Mr. Lowell summarized:

“Our hands are kind of tied until the city gets a little stricter on their enforcement.”

The result is predictable—continued encampments, ongoing environmental damage, and increasing safety concerns.

This week, during a forum hosted by the Port Angeles Business Association, City Council member Mark Hodgson described the Port of Port Angeles as a critical partner in the city’s economic future.

So why isn’t the City Council protecting that partner’s property rights?

A Symptom of Something Larger

The Laurel Street assault is not an isolated event. It is a signal.

For years, policy has focused on inputs—services delivered, supplies distributed, contacts made. But those metrics do not capture what people experience daily: whether conditions are improving, whether behavior is stabilizing, and whether public spaces are becoming safer.

In this case, the outcome was prolonged violence between two individuals in crisis, in a public place, with no effective intervention until after serious harm had occurred.

That is not harm reduction.

It is harm management.

And too often, it comes too late.

Both individuals needed more than tolerance. They needed structure, accountability, and a pathway to recovery. Without those guardrails, instability compounds—and incidents like this become more likely.

Policies that minimize friction can, over time, normalize dysfunction. And when that happens, the consequences extend beyond those directly involved.

They show up in our parks.

Along our waterways.

And on the stairways that connect our neighborhoods.

Leaders must begin to measure success not by activity, but by outcomes—by whether people are moving toward sobriety, stability, and self-sufficiency, and whether the broader community is safer as a result.

Because what happened on the Laurel Street stairs wasn’t just an incident.

It was a warning.

And it’s one we shouldn’t ignore.

Compassion should not come at the expense of public safety.

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Editor’s Note: CC Watchdog editor Jeff Tozzer also serves as campaign manager for Jake Seegers during his run for Clallam County Commissioner, District 3. Learn more at www.JakeSeegers.com.

The consequences of retail theft are showing up right here at home. From security gates at local grocery stores to growing public disorder, rising costs, and shifting community norms, this week’s Social Media Saturday roundup captures a county grappling with the real-world effects of policy, priorities, and public pressure.

Washington State now ranks #1 in the nation for retail theft impact. That statistic isn’t abstract—it’s visible.

At the Safeway across from the Clallam County Courthouse, just steps from Port Angeles City Hall, anti-theft gates have been installed. According to one Facebook commenter, the gates “scream and lock” if you attempt to exit without going through checkout. They’re one-way—meaning if you forget something, you’re walking the long way around.

This isn’t unique to Port Angeles. Similar systems have already been deployed in other states, with retailers citing reduced theft and improved traffic flow.

But nothing is free.

The cost of installing gates, hiring security, and mitigating theft doesn’t disappear—it gets passed on to customers. And that burden lands squarely on residents already struggling in a region with limited economic opportunity, in a state consistently ranked among the highest in cost of living (Washington just hit fifth in the nation).

Meanwhile, the “No Kings III” protests—backed locally by the League of Women Voters—have wrapped up, but not without controversy.

One local resident reported that an out-of-town visitor described the demonstrations as “appalling,” citing vulgar signage and a lack of basic decency.

What’s notable is the contrast.

Just a year ago, Indivisible Sequim presented itself as a courteous, respectful, grassroots movement focused on racial justice and climate issues. Today, critics point to profanity-laced messaging, public shaming of residents for reading CC Watchdog, and organized boycotts of local businesses.

A shift in tone—and perhaps in mission.

Out in the county’s natural areas, another kind of degradation is being documented.

Photos circulating online show illegal dumping and drug-related waste along access roads to the Upper Dungeness—routes used by hikers heading to destinations like Tubal Cain, Royal Basin, and Boulder Shelter.

These aren’t remote, unused spaces. They’re some of the peninsula’s most valued outdoor areas.

The Olympic Peninsula Humane Society also weighed in this week following the county’s termination of its contract with the County.

OPHS cited a lack of “resources and facilities” and noted ongoing remodeling at the Bark House. That raises a fair question: why weren’t these issues addressed during the facility’s extended closure in 2024–2025?

Compounding concerns, the organization still has not released meeting minutes or financial statements to the public but the organization says it is working to rebuild community trust.

On the environmental front, Taylor Shellfish Farms reminded followers that the only oyster native to the West Coast is the Olympia oyster.

The widely farmed Pacific oyster—larger and more commercially viable—is native to Asia.

That distinction matters.

It’s the Pacific oyster that the Jamestown Corporation has proposed introducing as part of a 50-acre commercial operation within the Dungeness National Wildlife Refuge—land currently held in the public trust, but targeted for transfer.

Closer to home, concerns about public safety continue to surface.

One Sequim resident reported being approached and asked for a ride while leaving Black Bear Diner, describing the interaction as unsettling and predatory.

Sequim is changing.

In response to repeated accusations of “racism,” CC Watchdog clarified its terminology months ago. However, there remains understandable confusion.

There is a distinction between the Jamestown Tribe—representing culture, ancestry, and governance—and the Jamestown Corporation, a business entity generating significant revenue and benefiting from structural tax advantages.

The clarification by CC Watchdog aims to separate criticism of policy and economics from issues of identity.

And finally, this week’s scanner traffic tells a familiar story:

• Slumped and unresponsive individuals in public spaces

• Shoplifting incidents

• An erratic driver reportedly smoking from a glass pipe

• Out-of-area warrants

• A report of someone throwing knives

• A hit-and-run

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The Charter Review Commission handed the Board of Commissioners two clear recommendations—one controversial, one common sense. Now the question is simple: will our elected officials listen, or will they continue a pattern of inaction that has already cost taxpayers for years?

April is shaping up to be a pivotal month for civic engagement in Clallam County—and for good reason.

The 2025 Charter Review Commission (CRC) concluded its work with two official recommendations to the Board of County Commissioners. One introduces a new layer of government. The other asks commissioners to do something far more basic: respond.

1. The Water Steward Proposal

The first recommendation calls for the creation of a Water Resources Specialist—often described as a “Water Steward”—within the Department of Community Development.

This idea, heavily promoted by the League of Women Voters, has been the subject of ongoing concern and scrutiny.

As previously documented on CCWatchdog:

• The position could expand regulatory oversight on rural landowners, particularly those relying on wells and septic systems

• It introduces new bureaucracy without clearly defined limits or measurable outcomes

• It raises serious questions about enforcement authority and long-term costs

• And critically, it would not apply to tribal lands, creating an uneven regulatory landscape

That last point is not minor—it goes directly to fairness, jurisdiction, and who ultimately bears the burden of new policy.

Supporters frame the position as proactive water management. Critics see it as regulatory creep with unclear accountability.

2. A Recommendation That Shouldn’t Be Necessary

The second recommendation is far less controversial—and far more telling.

It asks the commissioners to respond to formal requests from state and federal agencies, particularly regarding land transfers into tribal trust.

For over a decade, Clallam County has largely failed to respond to these inquiries.

That includes letters from the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA), which routinely ask for input on:

• Impacts to property tax revenue

• Zoning and land use implications

• Long-term effects on county services and infrastructure

When the county does not respond, those concerns are effectively absent from the record.

As CRC member Ron Richards emphasized during commission discussions, this is not about opposing or supporting any specific transfer—it’s about representation.

Silence is not neutrality.

In practice, silence becomes consent.

This recommendation doesn’t ask for new authority, new funding, or new programs.

It asks elected officials to do their job:
Engage. Respond. Represent their constituents.

To their credit, the commissioners are seeking public input before taking action. Three town halls are scheduled this month:

Clallam County Board of Commissioners
Charter Review Commission Recommendations

Topics:

• Retention of a Water Resources Specialist

• Procedures for County Responses to Land Acquisitions

Monday, April 6, 2026 – 5:00 PM
Forks City Hall Council Chambers
500 E. Division Street
Forks

Tuesday, April 14, 2026 – 5:00 PM
Guy Cole Event Center
144 N. Blake Avenue
Sequim

Tuesday, April 21, 2026 – 5:00 PM
Clallam County Courthouse – Commissioner’s Board Room
223 East 4th Street, Room 160
Port Angeles

Virtual attendance is possible. Click on the dates for Zoom instructions.

Public comments can also be submitted to:
loni.gores@clallamcountywa.gov

More Opportunities to Get Involved

If you’ve ever wondered whether your voice matters—this is one of those moments where it does. Civic engagement isn’t limited to county policy.

City of Sequim: Salary Commission Openings

The City of Sequim is currently seeking applicants for its City Council Salary Commission, which determines compensation for elected officials.

• Mayor currently earns: $7,944/year

• Deputy Mayor: $6,360/year

• Councilmembers: $4,632/year

Positions are open until filled, and applicants must live within Sequim city limits.

Apply here:
https://www.sequimwa.gov/214/City-Advisory-Bodies

Field Hall Event: The Importance of Local Journalism

📍 Tuesday, April 7, 2026 – 6:00 PM

A panel discussion on the future of local journalism featuring regional media leaders.

It’s a timely topic—especially considering that at last year’s event, the Peninsula Daily News publicly asked the community for financial donations and advocated for tax hikes to stay afloat.

The event is free. For additional details, including a live stream option, click here.

Public Safety Forum – No Gatekeepers

📍 Thursday, April 16, 2026
⏰ 6:30–8:30 PM
📌 Fairview Grange Hall, Port Angeles

Hosted by the Calico Cat Social Club, this “People’s Forum” offers something different:

• No moderator interference

• No strict time limits

• Audience-driven Q&A

Panel includes:

• County Commissioner Mike French

• County Prosecutor Mark Nichols

• County Sheriff Brian King

• Port Angeles Police Chief Brian Smith

With rising concerns around crime, enforcement, and accountability, this could be one of the most candid public discussions of the year.

The Bottom Line

The Charter Review Commission has done its work.

Now it’s up to the commissioners—and the public.

One recommendation expands government.

The other simply asks government to function.

The question is no longer what should be done.

It’s whether those elected to lead are willing to do it.

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Today’s Tidbit

Counties Can Respond—Here’s Proof

There’s a persistent narrative locally that counties have little to no role when it comes to federal tribal decisions—particularly land-into-trust actions or related jurisdictional questions.

That’s simply not accurate.

A clear example comes from Skagit County, which formally engaged with the Bureau of Indian Affairs during a dispute involving the Swinomish Indian Tribal Community.

In its official response to the BIA, Skagit County:

• Raised concerns about jurisdictional impacts

• Addressed potential boundary interpretations and legal implications

• Highlighted effects on non-tribal landowners and local governance

• Asserted the county’s role in representing its residents and tax base

This wasn’t symbolic. It was part of the federal administrative record.

And importantly—it was not framed as anti-tribal.

It was framed as government-to-government communication, which is exactly how the process is designed to work.

Federal agencies like the BIA routinely solicit input from local governments before making determinations. That input helps inform decisions about taxation, land use, infrastructure, and jurisdiction.

When counties respond, their concerns are considered.

When they don’t, those concerns are absent.

In past cases involving the Swinomish, local governments—including Skagit County and nearby cities—have formally objected or raised concerns about how land status or boundary interpretations could affect property rights, taxation, and jurisdiction.

That is not racism.
That is not targeting.

That is governance.

It’s elected officials doing exactly what they were chosen to do:

Represent the interests of their constituents in decisions that affect them.

Note: CC Watchdog’s examination of the League of Women Voters continues next Friday.