From Peninsula College weighing cuts to workforce programs while preserving electives, to public lands being overtaken or quietly transferred, and local officials navigating growing public frustration—this week’s stories highlight a recurring theme: decisions are being made, but not always in alignment with the needs of everyday residents. If you want to understand where Clallam County is headed, pay attention to what’s being cut, what’s being protected, and what’s being ignored.

Peninsula College’s Priorities Under Pressure

Peninsula College is facing a $1.8 million budget gap—and the response raises serious questions.

To close the shortfall, the college is tapping $800,000 in reserves and $240,000 from its foundation. Three staff positions are already gone. Looking ahead, higher-paid employees will face 12 furlough days, alongside retirement incentives.

But here’s where it gets concerning: program cuts are on the table—targeting areas like construction, automotive, office systems, and multimedia communications.

In a region facing a housing shortage and workforce gaps in the trades, these are not just classes—they’re pipelines to economic stability.

At the same time, there are no indications that elective programs like Klallam language courses are being considered for cuts.

Cultural education has value. No one disputes that. But when core workforce programs are on the chopping block while electives remain untouched, it raises a simple question: Are priorities aligned with community needs?

Clean Water—In Theory and In Practice

The League of Women Voters of Clallam County recently promoted a presentation with County Health and Human Services, the Jamestown Tribe, and the Clallam Conservation District focused on clean water—highlighting septic maintenance, pollution control, and protecting local streams.

On paper, it sounds exactly like what the community needs.

But just a few watersheds west, along Tumwater Creek—a salmon-bearing waterway—the reality tells a different story.

There, sections of the creek are being impacted by unmanaged encampments: human waste, discarded needles, space blankets, and other debris scattered through a sensitive habitat that should be protected.

It’s a striking contrast. On one hand, public workshops and presentations about water quality. On the other, visible, ongoing conditions that raise serious questions about enforcement, priorities, and follow-through.

Clean water isn’t just a presentation topic—it’s a responsibility. And for many residents, the expectation is simple: the standards being discussed in meeting rooms should also be applied on the ground.

Eminent Domain and “Land Back” Fears

A post circulating in Onalaska, Washington has residents raising alarms after WSDOT indicated it may acquire private land for fish passage projects.

The language is straightforward: “It is likely necessary to acquire a portion of your property.”

For some, this is routine infrastructure work. For others, it’s part of a broader concern—that public and private lands are increasingly being transferred or repurposed under policies tied to environmental restoration and tribal partnerships.

Whether those fears are justified or not, one thing is clear: when land use decisions happen without widespread public awareness, trust erodes quickly.

And as some locals are already saying—if it can happen there, it can happen here.

Two Photos, One Reality at Tumwater Creek

County Commissioner candidate Jake Seegers captured two images just 50 feet apart along a public trail.

One: pristine Pacific Northwest beauty.
The other: a landscape overtaken by garbage, debris, and the impacts of unmanaged encampments.

It’s a stark visual contrast—and a policy failure in plain sight.

When public land becomes unrecognizable due to illegal camping and lack of enforcement, it’s no longer just a homelessness issue. It becomes an environmental, public safety, and quality-of-life issue.

From “Protestors” to “Protectors”?

Indivisible Sequim may be rebranding.

Where they once identified as “protestors,” some messaging now leans toward “protectors”—a subtle but notable shift that mirrors tactics seen in other movements nationwide.

Whether it’s optics or strategy, the effect is the same: continued focus on national political narratives.

Meanwhile, many residents are asking a different question—who is protecting the local community from the issues happening right here at home?

When Public Land Gets Shut Down

Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife officers recently cleared out an encampment at the Morse Creek Wildlife Unit after what they described as a “large volume” of unlawful residents.

The result?

Two and a half tons of trash removed—accumulated in just six months. The debris included drug paraphernalia and even abandoned fishing equipment.

Let that sink in: a public wildlife area effectively closed off because it was overtaken by illegal activity.

This isn’t sustainable—and it’s becoming more common.

Lobbying for Billions While Locals Struggle

Jamestown Corporation CEO Ron Allen was in Washington, D.C. this week advocating for federal funding tied to Puget Sound restoration, emphasizing that shellfish and fisheries are “a way of life.”

There’s no doubt that environmental restoration matters.

But as federal dollars flow into large-scale initiatives, many locals are left wondering how much of that investment translates into tangible benefits for the surrounding communities—and how much is concentrated elsewhere.

Sequim Property Remains a Problem

The Clallam County Sheriff’s Office recovered stolen mail and financial documents on April 16th from a long-troubled property on Old Olympic Highway in Sequim.

No arrests were made.

And for neighbors, nothing has changed.

The property has been out of compliance for years, and despite repeated issues, it continues to generate complaints. It’s another example of enforcement gaps that leave residents feeling unheard.

Federal Contracting—But Only for Some

The Indian Health Service announced expanded efforts to support Indian-owned businesses through the Buy Indian Act, awarding over $515 million in contracts last year.

Supporters view this as economic justice and long-overdue investment.

Critics point to the obvious double standard—questioning whether any program favoring a different group in similar terms would be accepted.

Library Debate Turns Personal

Backed by the League of Women Voters, Indivisible Sequim formed under the founding principles of being “courteous and respectful.” But the activist group had a less-than-courteous take on a recent article by County Commissioner candidate Jake Seegers—calling it “most stupidly idiotic.”

Strong words—but also a bit revealing.

First, a genuine thank you to Dutchtown Spirit and others for drawing attention to the article, because more people reading it means more people understanding what’s actually being proposed: a library system expanding into Narcan distribution, food programs, and lending everything from drones to sewing machines—all while staffing costs rise and four-day work weeks are floated.

Second, it’s worth saying plainly: people can support the library and still ask questions about how it spends money. Those two ideas are not in conflict—they’re part of being an engaged, responsible community.

Third, a lighthearted word of caution—rumor has it some folks at Indivisible Sequim have been excommunicated for reading CC Watchdog. Hopefully, curiosity doesn’t become a punishable offense.

And finally, Bruce—those signs look great, and yes, one would look great on your property.

At the end of the day, spirited debate is healthy. If anything, this moment proves the point: when budgets, priorities, and public services are on the table, people are paying attention—and that’s a good thing.

A Week on the Scanner

If you want a snapshot of where things stand locally, listen to the police scanner:

• Assaults

• Overdoses

• Theft

• Mental health crises

• Warrants

• Indecent exposure

This isn’t abstract policy debate—it’s daily life.

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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.

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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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.

From missing dogs in Neah Bay to a blunt admission from Port Angeles leadership—and a troubling police report tied to Lee Plaza—this week’s Social Media Saturday tells a story of a community asking questions while those in charge keep pointing elsewhere.

“Leave Our Dogs Alone” — Neah Bay Post Raises Bigger Questions

A post circulating on the Clallam County Lost Pets page struck a nerve this week.

A family, still grieving after a celebration of life for their mother, reported their dogs went missing—allegedly lured into a red truck and taken. The dogs, they said, are well-known in the community and regularly roam between homes in the village.

The message was simple:
Visitors—leave the dogs alone. They are not lost. They are not abandoned.

But the conversation quickly shifted.

Another commenter—who identified herself as the last animal control officer in Neah Bay—pushed back hard. She claimed the original poster was a “repeat offender” and described a deeper issue:

• No current animal control presence

• A cultural norm of free-roaming dogs

• Public health concerns from parasites and exposure

• Reports of dogs attacking children and teens

Her warning was blunt:
What some see as “community dogs,” others see as a growing safety issue being ignored.

And just like that, a missing dog post turned into something bigger—a collision between culture, accountability, and public safety.

Nathan West: Speak Up… But Not Like That

Port Angeles City Manager Nathan West added fuel to the conversation this week with a statement that didn’t sit well with many:

“There is a difference between (1) the people that voice their opinions to Council and (2) the people that voice their opinions online and do nothing else other than complain.”

People are speaking up.
They’re identifying problems. They’re sharing what they see every day.

The issue isn’t silence.

The issue is response.

Because from the outside looking in, there increasingly appear to be two types of public servants:

• Those who take seriously their responsibility to provide safety and security for all

• And those who explain why nothing can be done—while blaming the public for noticing

We are not short on ideas.
We are not short on engagement.

We are short on results.

And when leadership’s response is “participate more, attend more meetings, pay more taxes,” it raises a fair question:

At what point does accountability shift back to the people in charge?

Tumwater Creek Death

The Facebook Clallam County Scanner Report page reported a death investigation on the 900 block of Tumwater Truck Route this week.

That location matters.

It sits near the growing homeless encampment along Tumwater Creek, beneath the 8th Avenue bridge—an area that has become increasingly associated with crime, drug activity, and deteriorating conditions.

For many residents, this isn’t surprising anymore.

And that may be the most troubling part.

Here is more from the scanner this week:

Lee Plaza Shooting: What the Report Actually Says

Last week, we reported on a break-in and shooting at Lee Plaza. Now we have more details from the official police report.

According to the Port Angeles Police Department case file :

• Officers responded to Apartment 407 at Lee Plaza for a reported assault

• The victim, Jack Homrighaus, was found with a gunshot wound to the leg

• Initial claims suggested multiple suspects entering through a window

But the investigation told a different story.

• No signs of forced entry

• No evidence of anyone entering or leaving the apartment

• Multiple firearms were found inside the unit

• The individual was a prohibited possessor due to prior felony convictions

• Evidence suggested the shooting was likely self-inflicted

Ultimately, the case resulted in:

• Arrest for unlawful possession of firearms (multiple counts)

• Case cleared by arrest

What began as a reported violent intrusion ended as something else entirely—a prohibited possessor, multiple weapons, and a shooting inside Peninsula Housing Authority’s subsidized housing.

The Bigger Picture

This week’s stories may seem unrelated:

• Missing dogs in Neah Bay

• A city manager criticizing online voices

• A death near a known encampment

• A shooting at Lee Plaza

But they all point to the same underlying issue:

A widening gap between what residents are experiencing—and what leadership is willing to acknowledge.

People are speaking.
They are documenting.
They are demanding change.

And whether leadership likes it or not—

Change is coming.

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Today’s Tidbit

Remember Seattle Is Dying?

Seven years ago, Eric Johnson documented a crisis driven by addiction, mental illness, and leadership unwilling to confront it.

Today, it’s worse—and the response hasn’t changed.

More spending.
More bureaucracy.
Still no meaningful focus on treatment.

In a recent interview, Johnson described the same pattern: downplaying the problem, attacking those who speak out, and insisting things are improving while conditions deteriorate.

That should sound familiar.

Because it’s happening here in Clallam County.

Different scale. Same playbook.

And unless that changes— The outcome won’t either.

Seven years after the documentary, 35% of Seattle’s offices sit vacant, and residents feel unsafe due to encampments and open drug use.

It’s time to ask…

Is Clallam County dying?

This week’s Social Media Saturday captures a pattern that’s getting harder to ignore: residents organizing, donating, and speaking out—while confidence in local decision-making continues to erode. From a major win on the Sol Duc mirrored cabins to volunteers effectively subsidizing public services, Clallam County’s digital town square is asking a simple question: who’s responsible for the basics anymore?

On Facebook, local resident Heather Cantua shared a substantive update on the controversial mirrored cabin proposal near Sol Duc—and for once, it came with encouraging news. The Hearings Examiner denied the developer’s request to reconsider restrictions, rejecting arguments that the County overstepped its authority. In practical terms, the conditions stand. Now the question becomes whether the applicant will appeal.

Even more notable, Planning Director Bruce Emery is recommending the Planning Commission hold a meeting in the Western Region to gather direct input from residents on zoning and conditional use policies. For many who felt blindsided by proposals like Grouse Glen, this signals a shift toward transparency and local engagement—something residents have been asking for all along.

Elsewhere on Facebook, another resident highlighted a different trend: community members increasingly stepping in to do what many assume government should handle. Volunteer group 4PA continues to remove massive amounts of trash from public spaces, while local tennis advocates are now fundraising privately to resurface courts and install lighting after the city declined funding.

The takeaway wasn’t criticism of volunteers—it was admiration. But it came with a warning: when residents consistently donate time and money to maintain basic infrastructure, it begins to resemble a “volunteer tax.” At what point does generosity become a substitute for governance?

In another post, frustration with elected officials surfaced more directly. One resident reported receiving a notification that their email to County Commissioner Randy Johnson had been “deleted without being read.” Whether isolated or not, the perception matters. It raises an uncomfortable question: are everyday constituents being filtered out while institutional voices—NGOs, agencies, and political stakeholders—still get through?

For residents already skeptical about whether their input carries weight, moments like this reinforce a growing disconnect.

Following a KONP story on the proposed Dungeness River off-channel reservoir, one commenter offered a sharp critique: the project, once framed as a benefit for farms and fish, appears to have stalled after it became clear FEMA funding was never aligned with its true purpose. Attempts to reframe the project reportedly failed at the state level.

The broader concern? Years of planning, significant expense, and little to show for it.

Meanwhile, the weekly scanner reports painted a familiar picture: out-of-town offenders, violent altercations, assaults, and a shooting tied to a break-in. It’s the kind of activity that residents are seeing in real time—but often feel isn’t fully reflected in traditional coverage. The gap between lived experience and reported narrative continues to widen.

And finally, one widely shared image—originally from Seattle—imagines what a modern-day Norman Rockwell painting might look like. It’s less nostalgic Americana and more a snapshot of disorder, detachment, and uneasy normalization.

For many in Clallam County, it doesn’t feel like satire anymore. It feels like a preview.

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Downtown vacancies are climbing. Business owners are quietly cleaning up drug debris before opening their doors. A longtime local voice was banned online for defending an article. And the county scanner lit up again with the kinds of calls that rarely make it into the local paper. This week’s Social Media Saturday pulls together the posts, the pictures, and the uncomfortable questions that deserve more than a scroll-past.

Empty Windows, Full Sidewalks

The Peninsula Daily News reports a staggering 90 vacant storefronts in the downtown core. That’s not just an aesthetic problem. Empty commercial space means:

• Fewer jobs

• Less sales tax revenue

• Lower property values

• A visible signal that something isn’t working

Downtown business owners aren’t just competing with online retail and inflation. They’re navigating something more immediate.

In recent weeks, social media posts have shown:

• Evidence of fire damage in a breezeway near operating businesses

  

• Encampments along trails and walkways that shoppers use near downtown stores

  

• Trash accumulation behind storefronts adjacent to camping activity

  

  

Several business owners have publicly commented about cleaning doorways each morning before customers arrive. Others have reported an increase in visible drug use nearby.

In one image, a glass pipe is visible outside a local storefront only blocks from the county’s harm reduction facility.

Critics argue this reflects unintended consequences of distribution policies. Supporters would counter that harm reduction prevents overdoses and saves lives.

But here’s the tension that keeps surfacing online:
The very businesses generating tax revenue are asking whether current policy choices are accelerating their own instability.

It’s a fair question. And it isn’t going away.

When Online Debate Turns Personal

For months, Marge — a familiar name to those who listened to her interview with Clallamity Jen — engaged regularly on Nextdoor. She often defended CC Watchdog articles, acknowledged opposing viewpoints, and thanked commenters for civil discussion.

Her account was recently suspended after she wrote about The Strait Shooter:

“Just because a story makes you laugh does not mean it isn’t true.”

She has filed an appeal.

In the meantime, the discussion shifted onto Facebook, where she posted:

“I wish the Port Angeles City Council would work together to better understand the needs of the diminishing tax base.”

That post sparked heated replies. One commenter told her she should “go back to California” or move to a remote cabin and never leave.

Screenshots show additional personal insults exchanged in private messages. The messages included language that many would describe as demeaning and hostile.

The situation illustrates how quickly local policy debates can devolve into personal attacks.

The individual involved appears to be an employee of the Port Angeles School District and has posted classroom supply requests online.

What’s troubling isn’t partisan disagreement. It’s the normalization of threats and dehumanizing rhetoric in community discourse.

If someone disagrees with a policy on homelessness or taxation, debate it.
But once the conversation shifts to personal intimidation, the civic fabric frays.

Scanner Reality Check

Meanwhile, the Clallam County Scanner page documented another steady week of calls:

Aiden Hamilton, the high school student campaigning to become the youngest person ever elected to the state legislature, said he had a front-row view of a disturbing incident in Port Angeles. In a Facebook post, Hamilton described a man allegedly hurling a rock through a Domino’s window, reaching into a vehicle to assault a driver, and then throwing rocks at additional nearby businesses.

These posts rarely make front-page news, but they shape how residents experience their neighborhoods.

When storefronts close, when police calls rise, when online conversations harden — these aren’t isolated phenomena. They intersect.

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Clallam County Watchdog is officially endorsing Judy Larson.

Why Judy Larson

Judy Larson is running to provide something that has been noticeably absent from the CCD Board: a different voice.

While she acknowledges the abilities of CCD staff, she was among the more than 1,000 Clallam County residents who signed the petition objecting to the District’s proposal to impose new Rates and Charges parcel fees on property owners — a fee ultimately approved by the County Commissioners.

Her position was clear: before imposing guaranteed funding streams on property owners, transparency, justification, and public trust must come first.

Larson brings substantial academic and professional credentials:

• B.S. in Chemistry

• Master’s degree

• Extensive non-degree academic study

• Professional experience as a teacher, chemist, and health and safety inspector

She moved to Sequim in 1993 and has deep roots in this community. Her civic involvement includes:

• Docent at the Feiro Marine Life Center

• VISTA volunteer for disaster preparedness

• Trainer for Clallam County Emergency Management

• Active member of Protect the Peninsula’s Future

Since 2023, Larson has consistently attended CCD Board meetings and offered public comment — particularly raising concerns about the piping of irrigation ditches without sufficient monitoring of impacts on wildlife and shallow aquifers.

Her priorities are straightforward:

• Increase transparency

• Improve responsiveness to public concerns

• Demand stronger project justification

• Ensure accountability for new parcel fee obligations

CC Watchdog believes Judy Larson represents the right balance between conservation goals and protection of private property rights. She supports stewardship — but not unchecked expansion of authority or revenue.

Why Not WendyRae Johnson

Incumbent WendyRae Johnson describes herself as a soil advocate and climate solutions educator. A retired beauty salon owner who moved to Port Angeles in 2020, she was elected to the CCD Board in Spring 2023 and currently serves as Board Auditor.

Her activism has extended beyond board service. Johnson was featured in People’s World, a publication with communist, socialist, and Marxist-Leninist roots, in connection with efforts to oppose public timber sales — sales that fund schools, hospitals, fire districts, and libraries in Washington State.

Johnson now seeks another three-year term.

As Board Auditor, she has held heightened responsibility during a period when the District sought and secured a guaranteed parcel fee funding stream. During that campaign, CCD presented financial projections to justify the new revenue. Concerns were raised that some calculations were off by hundreds of thousands of dollars.

There were also instances where financial documents appeared to show surpluses while public messaging emphasized fiscal strain.

After the fee passed, scrutiny increased as staffing levels and compensation costs became clearer through subsequent public records.

Financial stewardship matters. Transparency matters.

So does public trust.

A Concerning Public Statement

At a CCD meeting on June 3, 2025, Johnson referred to concerned members of the public as:

“. . . from the Tozzer masses during our election… undoubtedly, Mr. Tozzer will get this out to his angry mob…”

She went on to discuss the need for strict codes of conduct and the potential removal of members of the public from meetings.

Regardless of political perspective, referring to engaged residents as an “angry mob” reflects a troubling posture toward public participation — particularly in a district that had just experienced a voided election and heightened public scrutiny.

Public agencies exist to serve the public — not manage them.

The Choice Before Voters

This election is about more than one seat.

It is about:

• Whether CCD will embrace scrutiny or resist it

• Whether guaranteed parcel fees will come with robust oversight

• Whether conservation policy will remain grounded in practical stewardship rather than activism

• Whether dissenting voices will be welcomed or dismissed

Judy Larson offers experience, community roots, and a commitment to accountability.

For voters who signed the petition against the parcel fee, who questioned the financial projections, or who simply want stronger transparency and responsiveness from the CCD Board, Judy Larson represents a necessary correction.

Clallam County Watchdog endorses Judy Larson for Clallam Conservation District Supervisor.

Ballots must be returned by March 17.

Now is the time to restore balance.

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Join Jake Seegers and CC Watchdog in Beaver today!

This week’s Social Media Saturday isn’t about politics—it’s about what residents are posting, photographing, and living with in real time. From drug paraphernalia scattered across hospital-owned property in Forks to indecent exposure in a Sequim shopping center parking lot, the gap between policy rhetoric and street-level reality has never been clearer.

“Harm Reduction” Arrives in Forks

A post circulating recently out of Forks shows what many residents say is the inevitable result of Clallam County’s harm-reduction experiment reaching the West End: used needles, tourniquets, burned furniture, and drug debris scattered across a wooded property locally known as “the Burn.”

Community members have already conducted cleanups. They’re organizing again.

One widely shared message called on Forks Community Hospital to allow volunteers access to hospital-owned property north of town:

Hundreds of needles and other drug-related paraphernalia are located on their property. Criminal elements have used this property to hold parties where innocent young girls and boys are being hurt. BADLY...

Residents say the solution isn’t radical. It’s basic stewardship:

• Allow volunteers to clean the property.

• Post permanent signage.

• Install cameras to deter drug dealing.

• Remove scotch broom and dense underbrush that conceal camps and illegal activity.

A volunteer has even offered a brush-cutting excavator.

The request isn’t confrontational. It’s collaborative.

But the frustration is unmistakable: How did we get here?

Clallam County leaders promote harm reduction as “compassion.” On the ground, residents see needles in the woods.

Congratulations, Clallam County. The policy has nearly reached the coast.

Scanner Report Roundup: What Residents Are Seeing

The Clallam County Scanner Report page continues to chronicle a steady stream of disturbances, trespasses, public intoxication, and property issues tied to unmanaged street-level disorder.

These aren’t partisan posts. They’re time-stamped dispatches from people watching their communities change in real time.

The question residents keep asking is simple:
If we are spending millions on harm reduction, housing-first, outreach, and supplies—including drug paraphernalia—why are the same names showing up over and over?

Which brings us to Sequim.

Sequim: Indecent Exposure

On February 4th, officers were dispatched to the Dollar Tree at 990 W. Washington Street in Sequim. A witness reported a man urinating in bushes with his genitals exposed in the parking lot.

The suspect was identified as John E. Marshall.

According to the police report:

• He was arrested for RCW 9A.88.010 – Indecent Exposure.

• Officers located glass smoking devices.

• A baggie containing suspected methamphetamine was found.

• His property—two carts’ worth—required a city lift truck for transport.

• Items were placed into safekeeping. Drug paraphernalia was logged for destruction.

Booking records show he was arrested on February 4th and released the next day.

This wasn’t an isolated incident. Reports and social media posts spanning more than three years describe Marshall:

• Crossing traffic with carts.

• Yelling at residents downtown.

• Being trespassed from parks.

• Sleeping in commercial areas.

An engaged Watchdogger was in the QFC parking lot in Sequim and witnessed Marshall’s arrest earlier this month. Look closely at the City of Sequim Public Works truck piled with Marshall’s belongings.

A blue tarp, a wooden pallet, and couch cushions. The same items are shown in the photo below.

Weeks earlier, a parent wrote publicly that her son was expected to walk past an unstable man blocking sidewalks near 5th and Fir in Sequim. Police allegedly told the family to “take a different route.”

That encampment was:

• Across from Peninsula Behavioral Health.

• Half a block from the Boys & Girls Club.

• One block from an elementary school.

Let that sink in.

A man arrested for indecent exposure and found with suspected methamphetamine had been sleeping on a sidewalk for days, a block from an elementary school.

And the official response is: reroute the kids.

The Hypocrisy of “Compassion”

Clallam County has poured millions into harm reduction infrastructure:

• Housing-first initiatives.

• Outreach contracts.

• Public-health supply distribution.

• Policies that deliberately deprioritize enforcement.

The promise was stability. Dignity. Better outcomes.

Instead:

• Forks residents are picking up needles.

• Sequim families are adjusting school routes.

• The same individuals cycle through arrest, release, repeat.

Compassion has been redefined in Clallam County.

It no longer appears to mean protecting children, small business owners, or taxpayers.

It means protecting the policy.

When elected officials congratulate themselves on “progressive” solutions while residents organize volunteer cleanup crews and city crews haul carts with meth pipes into storage, something is broken.

This isn’t a failure of empathy.

It’s a failure of governance.

And residents across the county—Forks to Sequim—are documenting it themselves.

That’s Social Media Saturday.

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Welcome to Social Media Saturday, where CC Watchdog does the doom-scrolling on local social media so you don’t have to. This week’s edition highlights a post that crossed a bright line—from condemning hate to promoting it—and exposes how selectively enforced outrage has become in Clallam County.

Paula Allen is the niece of Jamestown Corporation CEO Ron Allen. She is also a personal coach and motivational speaker who leads the Allen Academy, an organization that promotes “effective leadership” and claims to provide “the resources and support necessary for individuals to thrive, fostering an intrinsic leadership system that is resilient and adaptable to any challenge.”

This week, Allen identified what she described as a problem:

White people.

There is an added irony. Paula Allen’s uncle, Jamestown Corporation CEO Ron Allen, is 75% white and of British descent, and it is widely understood that many members of Paula Allen’s generation within the tribe are likewise overwhelmingly of European ancestry—commonly 88% white. In other words, the racial category being condemned is not some distant or abstract “other,” but one that overlaps substantially with the very family, community, and workforce she comes from.

In a public Facebook post, Allen wrote, “Embarrassing that we live among them… white people are a problem… and to think they think they are superior—superior to the bottom of my shoe… someone feels very small around kids of color, I would too… if you find out who the parents are, let me know.”

The post appears to have been written in response to a photograph showing a swastika and a racial slur spray-painted on a wall—an act that is despicable, hateful, and deserving of universal condemnation.

But condemning racism does not excuse engaging in it.

Strip away the justifications, and the language stands on its own. It is explicitly racist. Period.

Ask a simple question: what would the reaction be if someone posted that “Hispanics are a problem,” or that “Indians are superior to the bottom of my shoe”? The answer is obvious. There would be outrage. Protests. Candlelight vigils. Statements from organizations. Endless references for years to come as proof of entrenched bigotry.

And rightly so—because that would be racism.

Yet when the target is “white people,” the rules suddenly change. The outrage evaporates. The silence becomes deafening.

Allen spent roughly three decades working for Clallam County’s second-largest employer, the Jamestown Corporation, in roles including Retail Manager and Guest Service Manager at the 7 Cedars Casino. It is not unreasonable to ask: how should white employees have felt knowing a senior figure publicly describes people like them as “a problem,” not even worthy of the bottom of her shoe, solely because of skin color?

Racism does not become acceptable because it is framed as righteous anger. It does not become harmless simply because it targets a politically unfashionable group. And it does not advance justice when it mirrors the very thinking it claims to oppose.

If Clallam County is serious about rejecting racism, it cannot do so selectively. Standards either apply to everyone—or they are meaningless.

Yes, racism is alive and well in Clallam County. And sometimes, it looks exactly like this.

Social Media Weekly Roundup

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On the Olympic Peninsula, the Climate Commitment Act doesn’t feel like an abstract carbon policy—it feels like a quiet markup on groceries, gas, and building supplies, because nearly everything we buy gets here by truck. Families scraping to fill a tank pay first, and pay again at the checkout line. But while the public absorbs the cost, the Department of Commerce advertises CCA-backed programs that—by design, eligibility rules, or “separate track” meetings—steer a disproportionate share of the upside to tribal governments and tribal entities. If this is “equity,” why does it look like a system where everyone pays, but only some are positioned to win?

The Peninsula Penalty: When “Carbon Policy” Becomes a Truck Surcharge

In Seattle and Olympia, the Climate Commitment Act (CCA) is marketed as a clean-energy investment strategy. On the Olympic Peninsula, it functions more like a hidden freight surcharge.

Food, fuel, medicine, appliances, building materials—almost everything here arrives by truck. When fuel costs rise upstream, those costs don’t stay abstract. They land on grocery shelves, gas pumps, and contractor invoices.

Raising transportation costs doesn’t just affect corporations. It hits the single parent commuting to work in Forks, the retiree on a fixed income in Sequim, and the family trying to finish a basic home repair without running up a credit card bill.

This is the part rarely mentioned: carbon costs ride the supply chain. They show up one receipt at a time.

A “Nonpartisan” Dais Can’t Campaign for State Taxes

When elected county officials promote statewide tax-and-spend policies from the local dais, that’s not neutral governance—it’s political advocacy backed by public office.

Commissioner Mark Ozias publicly pushed for the Climate Commitment Act from the commissioners’ dais. That alignment is notable given that his campaign’s largest contributor, the Jamestown Corporation, has received millions of dollars through CCA-funded programs.

Residents can disagree about the policy itself, but the process matters. There is a clear line between representing constituents locally and using the authority of office to influence statewide outcomes.

County government is supposed to serve everyone, not tell voters how to think—or how to vote.

Follow the Incentives: Who Benefits When Costs Rise?

This is where the debate stops being theoretical.

Households pay more, while institutions positioned to navigate state systems gain access to grants, contracts, and influence over how money is distributed. The Department of Commerce doesn’t just administer funds—it co-designs programs, rewrites eligibility, and convenes workgroups that shape where money flows next.

When the largest political contributors are also deeply embedded in these systems, it’s reasonable for the public to ask whether this is simply climate policy—or political economy.

Commerce’s CCA-Funded “Opportunities”

Commerce presents CCA spending as inclusive, but in practice it operates on two tracks.

EV Charging and the “Tribal Workgroup” Track

Commerce highlights tribal participation in EV charging grants and convenes a monthly Tribal Workgroup to redesign future funding—covering eligibility, timelines, and grant sizes.

That isn’t illegal. But it’s not neutral.

It gives some participants a seat at the table before the rules are finalized, while everyone else sees the program only after the design is complete.

Tribe-Only Programs Aren’t Subtle

Some programs don’t even claim to be universal. The Tribal Electric Boats Program is exactly what it sounds like—limited to tribes and tribal enterprises.

That may be a policy choice. But it cannot be sold as broadly equitable when the funding comes from a system that raises costs for everyone.

Separate Bidder Sessions, Separate Rules

Commerce frequently holds separate pre-proposal sessions for tribes, including sessions that are not recorded, while general sessions are.

If public money is involved, the public has a right to ask:
Why are some applicants given a different lane—and why is it less transparent?

The $10 Power Bill Question

Commerce’s own spotlight on Swinomish clean-energy projects describes CCA-funded investments that dropped some household power bills from roughly $160 to as low as $10.

That success story raises an obvious question for working families:
How does a non-tribal household access the same benefits?

There is no clear answer—because the pathway isn’t the same.

Salmon Recovery Grants and “Co-Management” Language

Commerce’s salmon recovery grants openly state they are funded by the CCA and emphasize tribal co-management.

If these are statewide public benefits, then eligibility, accountability, and governance should be equally clear for everyone. Instead, some partners help set direction while others absorb the regulatory and financial burden.

MOUs and “Data Sovereignty”

Commerce promotes its growing list of tribal MOUs as a success—agreements that streamline contracting and “honor data sovereignty.”

Translated plainly: faster access and fewer barriers for some, paired with reduced public visibility into how money is used.

That creates an obvious tension. If taxpayers fund these programs, why shouldn’t accountability be consistent?

Respecting sovereignty does not require building systems where public dollars meet private oversight.

Everyone Pays—Only Some Benefit

The uncomfortable question many residents ask is whether this system is fair.

If eligibility is based on race or ancestry, constitutional concerns arise. If eligibility is based on legal or political status, the state will argue it’s lawful.

But for those excluded, the lived reality is the same: they pay more, and they don’t qualify.

The result is a two-tier system:

• Everyone absorbs higher costs.

• Selected entities receive preferential access to CCA-funded benefits.

That structure cannot sustain public trust.

The Hypocrisy of “Equal Access”

Commerce repeatedly claims that “transparent access to the same information” is central to equity—while simultaneously operating:

• tribe-only programs

• separate bidder sessions

• non-recorded meetings

• streamlined contracting for some

• design workgroups dominated by prior recipients

That isn’t equal access. It’s priviledged access.

The Questions the Peninsula Deserves Answered

If the Climate Commitment Act is going to operate like a hidden gas tax in rural Washington, residents deserve clear answers:

• How much of the cost burden falls on rural supply chains?

• How much CCA funding is realistically accessible to non-tribal households and small businesses?

• Why are some applicant tracks separated—and some meetings unrecorded?

• What accountability standards apply to every recipient?

Until those questions are answered, the CCA won’t look like climate policy on the Olympic Peninsula.

It will look like a regressive cost increase paired with a selective grant economy—and a government asking struggling residents to pay more, while quietly deciding who gets paid back.

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Welcome to Social Media Saturday, a new CC Watchdog roundup highlighting what residents, officials, and scanners are revealing online — often faster and more honestly than public meetings. This week’s snapshot contrasts elected leaders’ fixation on proclamations with the visible deterioration of public spaces, ongoing encampments, and a justice system that cycles repeat offenders through in a matter of hours.

Sequim

It has been six months since CC Watchdog began reporting on Seal Street Park in downtown Sequim. Six months later, the park remains occupied by vagrants, shopping carts, and makeshift camps — a condition residents regularly document on social media and quietly avoid in real life.

Just one block north, inside City Hall, the Sequim City Council had a far more productive year.

In 2025 alone, the council issued 24 proclamations, including:

• Honoring Councilor Kathy Downer

• Martin Luther King, Jr. Day

• National Human Trafficking Prevention Month

• Black History Month

• Boy Scout Troop 90

• Teacher Appreciation Week

• Police Week / Peace Officers Memorial Day

• Arbor Day

• Bike Month

• International Dark Sky Week

• Juneteenth

• Missing and Murdered Indigenous People

• Pride Month

• World Migratory Bird Day

• Olympic Peninsula Audubon Society

• Overdose Awareness Day

• Constitution Week

• Resilience Awareness Month

• Sister City – Shiso City

• Indigenous Peoples Day

• Veterans Day

• Native American Heritage Month

• Emily Westcott Proclamation

• Honoring Councilor Vicki Lowe

That’s a proclamation roughly every two weeks — impressive output, if symbolism were the metric residents cared about most.

Port Angeles

In Port Angeles, social media and police scanner chatter tell a less ceremonial story.

An estimated 135 people are now living in encampments along Tumwater Creek, an area that recently underweodnt a multi-million-dollar salmon restoration project intended to protect treaty rights.

A question repeatedly raised online — and never answered publicly — is simple:

Where does the human waste of 135 people go when they live alongside a creek?

A previous CC Watchdog article on Backman reported that he has a long and violent history. In 2013, “Washington’s Most Wanted” featured him as a fugitive. At that time, he was on probation for robbery in Kitsap County and wanted for failing to report. Port Angeles police also had probable cause to arrest him for assault after a series of violent threats toward a former girlfriend.

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Some of the most troubling actions taken by Clallam County officials didn’t come to light through press releases, public meetings, or proactive transparency. They were uncovered the old-fashioned way — by citizens filing public records requests. The pattern is unmistakable, and the lesson is clear: accountability only works when the public uses the tools it already owns.

What do all of these events have in common?

• Discovering that the commissioners’ claimed “hundreds of signatures” supporting the Towne Road shutdown were fictitious.

• Learning how much time Commissioner Mike French spent playing Star Wars role-playing games on his county laptop while avoiding public interaction.

• Reading emails where Jamestown Corporation’s CEO referred to residents as “whiners and complainers” and instructed commissioners to “set them straight.”

• Uncovering that the county was quietly taking steps to hand over management of a county park to a sovereign nation — without public discussion.

• Finding out that Commissioner Ozias promised $125,000 in taxpayer-funded, automatic electric gates to a political ally, so a public road could effectively become a private driveway for a wedding venue.

• Discovering that Charter Review Commissioner Jim Stoffer was passing confidential documents to a tribal ambassador.

None of these revelations came from official announcements. None were volunteered. Every single one surfaced because ordinary citizens submitted public records requests through the Clallam County Public Records Office.

That is not coincidence. That is how oversight actually works.

How the system really functions

Clallam County employs four full-time staff dedicated to fulfilling public records requests:

• Two in the Sheriff’s Office

• Two serving the rest of county government

Requests can be submitted anonymously. The county is not allowed to ask why you are requesting records. That is by design — not a loophole.

Yes, there are exemptions. Records may be withheld only if they fall under specific exemptions in the Public Records Act (PRA) or other statutes. Common examples include:

• Victim and witness information

• Driver’s license numbers

• Social Security numbers

• Personal employee information

• Attorney-client privileged material

• Medical records

In total, there are now more than 700 statutory exemptions, up from roughly 500 just four years ago.

But exemptions are supposed to be narrow — not a blanket excuse for secrecy.

The numbers tell the story

2025 Public Records Metrics

• 1,833 new requests

• 1,926 closed requests

• 167 open requests

• 15 median days to close

The Sheriff’s Office led all departments with 1,157 requests, largely due to police reports and body-worn camera footage. The Department of Community Development (DCD) ranked second with 153 requests.

Additional 2025 data:

• 187 invoices totaling $2,858

• 251 abandoned requests

• 70 canceled requests

• 205 requests with no responsive records

• 515 requests with no redactions

• 639 requests with redactions

Who is requesting records?

• 892 individuals

• 324 organizations

• 104 law firms

• 70 insurers

• 45 government entities

• 30 media outlets

• 14 current or former employees

• 12 incarcerated persons

Requests have climbed steadily — from about 500 in 2017 to over 1,600 last year.

Since the county adopted PRR software:

• 10,189 requests closed

• 23.6 average business days to close

• 185,942 documents downloaded since 2022

Body-worn camera reality

In 2025 alone:

• 294 body-worn camera videos were redacted

• 97.58 hours spent redacting 81.43 hours of footage

• Average video length: 16.62 minutes

• 1.2 minutes of redaction time per 1 minute of video

This is labor-intensive, meticulous work — and it matters.

What a request actually looks like

A typical request to DCD might read:

“We would like to request a report that includes detailed information on permits (building and electrical) issued between 9/01/2025 and 9/30/2025. Detailed information should include permit number, date issued, description of work, address of work, contractor, project cost, permit fees, and contractor license number please. You have my consent to withhold or redact personal names but please leave org/company names in the report.”

This is not harassment. It is not abuse. It is civic participation.

The principle that governs all of this

RCW 42.56.030 puts it plainly:

• The people of this state do not yield their sovereignty to the agencies that serve them.

• The people, in delegating authority, do not give their public servants the right to decide what is good for the people to know and what is not good for them to know.

• The people insist on remaining informed so that they may maintain control over the instruments that they have created.

That principle matters — especially when commissioners quietly discuss handing over management of county parks to sovereign nations, advance road closures on false premises, or secretly push for new taxes like a cultural access tax without a vote of the people.

We do have a tool.

But tools only matter if they are used.

The right to request public records is one of the most powerful accountability tools citizens possess. It works because there is a dedicated, professional team at the courthouse doing the unglamorous work of preserving that right.

They deserve credit. They deserve thanks. And they deserve public support — because without them, democracy becomes whatever officials say it is.

Transparency doesn’t happen by accident.
It happens because people ask questions — and insist on answers.

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Explore Clallam County’s Public Records Request portal here.

From homelessness policy that stabilizes despair instead of resolving it, to elected officials who deflect responsibility while rewarding failure, Clallam County continues to drift further from transparency, accountability, and common sense. These ten short stories—each drawn from a single week of public record, reporting, and observation—raise a simple question: who, exactly, is minding the store?

The Pit Without a Ladder

Homelessness and addiction often intersect at the lowest point in a person’s life. Picture it as a pit—one of despair, shame, and hopelessness. There are two ways a society can respond.

One approach lowers a ladder. People at the top say: If you climb—rung by rung—we will help you. We will help you out of the pit, and once you’re out, we will help you rebuild your life.

The other approach removes the ladder entirely. Instead, supplies are lowered into the pit—tents, sleeping bags, crack pipes, needles. The message becomes: We want you to be more comfortable down there. Stay in the pit.

Last year, Clallam County Commissioners approved more than $50,000 in so-called “warmth and hygiene” supplies for the Harm Reduction Center in Port Angeles.

The commissioners supplied combs, brushes, lotion, deodorant, toothpaste, gloves, socks, and Mylar blankets. Many of these items are used once and discarded. Others are never opened at all.

Mylar blankets now line the banks of Tumwater Creek, waiting for the next high-water event to carry them into the harbor.

Clallam County is not investing in ladders. It is spending hundreds of thousands of dollars reinforcing the pit.

A Revolving Door with No Brake

Readers first learned of Lonnie Priester last summer, when he was arrested on charges including assault, driving with a suspended license, possession of a controlled substance, and unlawful use of drug paraphernalia. Priester is a registered sex offender from Eastern Washington with a long criminal history.

Last month, he was arrested again for possession of a controlled substance and failure to register—and released on January 2. Yesterday, he was booked once more on the same charges.

This is not an isolated failure. It is a system operating exactly as designed—release, reoffend, repeat.

What’s notable is that the Prosecuting Attorney, Sheriff, Port Angeles Police Chief, and State Representative have all expressed openness to a public town hall to explain what they can—and cannot—do. The County Commissioners, however, continue to refuse engagement.

Accountability is available. The commissioners simply decline to participate.

Organization of the Year… or Country of the Year?

According to KONP Radio, the Port Angeles Chamber of Commerce has announced finalists for “Organization of the Year,” including 4-H, the Peninsula Trails Coalition, and the Lower Elwha Klallam Tribe.

One of these is not like the others.

The tribe is not an organization. It is a sovereign nation. Is Canada in the running next year?

How exactly is a volunteer-driven youth program like 4-H supposed to compete with a sovereign government possessing treaty rights, tax exemptions, and enterprise revenue?

This isn’t recognition—it’s category confusion.

Which City Is “Our City”?

An Olympian article from 2024 profiles Mark Hodgson, written a year after he applied for a City Council appointment while simultaneously running for Clallam County Charter Review Commissioner—and a year before his campaign for Port Angeles City Council.

In the piece, Hodgson repeatedly refers to Olympia as “our city.”

Mark Hodgson, chair of the city’s Social Justice and Equity Commission, spoke during the council meeting about why the committee suggested the civilian group. “After all, Olympia isn’t associated with high-profile incidents of police misconduct,” he said. “In fact, our city is often a leader in fair, equitable and compassionate law enforcement practices.”

So which is it? Port Angeles—or Olympia?

Residency is not just a mailing address. It’s allegiance, attention, accountability, and attendance.

One Day. One City. One Pattern.

All in a single day in Port Angeles, according to the Clallam County Scanner Report:

This is not anecdote. It is accumulation.

January 6th Comes to City Hall

At the first Port Angeles City Council meeting of 2026, Councilmember LaTrisha Suggs, after noting a two-week vacation, chose to reflect at length on January 6, 2021—drawing comparisons to September 11th and Pearl Harbor.

This was not a national forum. It was a municipal council meeting in Port Angeles.

Residents tuned in expecting discussion of roads, housing, economic development, and public safety. Instead, they received a five-year-old Washington, D.C. retrospective framed as local governance.

Buckle up. If this is the tone for another term from Suggs, Port Angeles residents should expect national politics to continue crowding out local responsibility.

The $118,000 solution

Clallam County Commissioners have increased funding for the Sequim safe-parking program at Trinity United Methodist Church to $118,000—for three parking spaces.

The program has zero qualifying participants.

Why? Because vehicles must have registration, insurance, and title—requirements the target population largely cannot meet, and which the church’s insurer demands.

One subscriber offered a suggestion worth considering:

“How about the tribe providing safe parking? They have a huge parking lot and security. Since they are a sovereign nation, I assume they wouldn’t need to comply with the rules mandated to Trinity requiring documentation like car registration etc. Maybe all those folks who signed up at Trinity to volunteer for the safe parking program could set up free daycare at the church so the mothers and fathers could look for work.”

Why not tribal safe parking? Large lots. Security. Sovereign jurisdiction. No insurance constraints imposed on Trinity.

It’s a question worth asking—especially before writing another check.

When Leadership Means Owning Failure

Local blogger Mimi Smith lays out a compelling case in “City Council: DO NOT Vote Carr for Mayor” and readers should follow her Substack closely.

Her argument is simple: leadership requires accountability.

Navarra Carr and LaTrisha Suggs chaired the William Shore Memorial Pool District board during a period when fraud occurred—undetected, unchallenged, and unmanaged. The State Auditor’s fraud report could not be clearer: the board failed in its fiduciary duty.

Carr now seeks the mayoral position, a role structurally identical to the board chair she already held.

If oversight failed at a $2.7 million pool district, what confidence should taxpayers have at $150 million?

Compassion Without Boundaries Has Consequences

As accused child rapist Miguel Midel Lopez sits in Clallam County Jail awaiting a costly retrial, it is worth revisiting Lisa Dekker’s October article in Clallam Democrats Rising on immigrant protections and community advocacy.

Her piece is detailed and highlights the extensive networks designed to protect vulnerable populations.

But it also underscores an uncomfortable reality: systems built to shield everyone must still grapple with those who exploit them.

Public safety and compassion are not opposites. Ignoring that balance serves no one—least of all children.

Equity Person to the Rescue!

If you’ve ever walked out of a public meeting wondering how a simple question turned into a fog bank of jargon, The Strait Shooter is speaking directly to you. Their latest piece, “Equity Person™ Deploys Emergency Clipboard After Residents Ask ‘Too Many Questions,’” imagines a county where curiosity itself triggers a response—complete with a silent official whose job is not to answer, but to absorb accountability.

What makes the satire work is how close it is to real life. Questions about fees, data, or timelines slowly dissolve into values talk, answers get longer and less useful, and people leave feeling slightly embarrassed for having asked in the first place. The glowing clipboard is funny because everyone recognizes the moment when clarity quietly exits the room.

If you like local satire that knows the territory and doesn’t pull its punches, follow The Strait Shooter. It’s smart, dry, and just uncomfortable enough to be true.

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That decision changed everything.

When an agency must justify its funding to the public, it has a reason to listen, explain, and respond. Once that funding is guaranteed by force of government, those incentives disappear. What we are seeing now from the CCD is what happens when accountability is replaced with entitlement.

An Agency That No Longer Has to Answer to the Public

Following a court ruling that voided the CCD’s 2024 supervisor election for violating state administrative rules, the District had a choice: restore trust by expanding transparency and access, or tighten control.

On January 13, 2026, it chose control.

The CCD adopted a new 2026 election resolution that eliminates all in-person voting. No walk-in ballots. No election-day pickup. No opportunity to show up and participate. If you want to vote, you must request a mailed ballot in advance, hope your eligibility can be verified, and navigate a process designed entirely by the agency whose leadership you are voting on.

Ballots will be sent only to voters the CCD considers qualified, based on an internal voter list that Executive Director Kim Williams acknowledged is eight years old.

The deadline to request a ballot is 4:00 p.m. on February 18, 2026.

This is not modernization. It is voter restriction.

Restricting the Electorate, Not Expanding It

Mail-only voting is often defended as more accessible. That argument collapses when voters must first know they are eligible, know where to request a ballot, trust that their request will be honored, and rely on an agency with a documented history of election and accounting problems.

Voters not on the CCD’s internal list will not automatically receive ballots—only a postcard alerting them to the new rules. If a voter’s registration cannot be verified through the Secretary of State’s database, Williams stated they will be issued a “provisional ballot,” adding yet another discretionary layer to the process.

Even more troubling, the CCD plans to use an external drop box outside its offices—despite this being prohibited by administrative code and despite it being one of the election practices challenged in the lawsuit that voided the last election.

All of this complexity could be avoided. A single-day, in-person election with voter ID would be simpler, cheaper, and transparent. The CCD rejected that option outright and instead chose the most opaque system available.

“Expertise” Over Voters

During the meeting, Williams complained that the public does not “understand” issues like water quality and warned the District could “lose our expertise” if the pool of voters changes.

That framing is revealing. Elections are being treated as a nuisance rather than a safeguard. Expertise matters—but it does not replace consent. Public agencies exist to serve the public, not to protect themselves from it.

Impartiality—Optional?

Supervisor Maggie Bockart openly discussed what sounded like electioneering at farmers markets in support of incumbent supervisor Wendy Rae Johnson.

That should alarm anyone familiar with the law.

State rules are explicit: conservation districts must remain neutral in their own elections. WAC 135-110-150 prohibits supervisors and employees from promoting or prejudicing any candidate. Yet the discussion happened openly, without correction or concern.

Johnson, for her part, complained about what she called the public’s “litigiousness and harassment” over election procedures and dismissed the idea of placing CCD elections on the November ballot as a “waste of taxpayers’ money.”

That comment is difficult to square with an agency now guaranteed millions in taxpayer funding—especially one that has struggled to account for its finances accurately.

No Appeal—and a Telling Explanation

The CCD also announced that the State Conservation Commission will not appeal the Thurston County ruling that voided the 2024 election. The CCD board opposed that decision, with Chair Christy Cox insisting everything the District did was “legal.”

Cox said she was advised that the Attorney General’s Office did not believe an appeal would succeed and did not want to risk setting statewide precedent.

If the procedures were truly lawful, precedent would not be a threat.

Appointments Instead of Elections

With a supervisor seat now vacant, the CCD released a draft resolution to fill it by appointment, not election. The application window runs from January 23, 2026, to 4:00 p.m. on February 20, 2026, and eligibility is limited to farm operators, farm owners, or landowners.

That further narrows participation in an agency that now takes money from every parcel owner in the county.

Draft resolutions and applications have been circulated, but signed versions have yet to be publicly posted.

Why This Matters

The CCD is a county-level arm of a state agency. It influences land use, water policy, and agriculture. It now has guaranteed funding extracted from taxpayers who never consented to it.

At the same time, it has demonstrated:

• Documented financial accounting errors (detailed by Jake Seegers)

• Resistance to public scrutiny

• A willingness to restrict elections rather than fix them

• Open hostility toward critics

• No meaningful oversight from the County Commissioners, who enabled this arrangement

That is not how public institutions are supposed to function.

A Path Back to Legitimacy

This situation is not irreversible. The loss of trust at the CCD is the result of deliberate choices—and different choices could restore confidence.

There is a straightforward solution:

• Hold single-day, in-person supervisor elections with voter ID and same-day registration

• Place CCD elections on the November general-election ballot, where turnout is highest and procedures are standardized

• Require independent election administration, not CCD staff or affiliated groups

• Mandate annual independent financial audits, clearly published and explained

• Condition future county funding on measurable compliance and transparency benchmarks

These reforms would cost less than the current mail-only system and would eliminate discretion, confusion, and suspicion. Most importantly, they would restore the basic principle that seems to have been forgotten: public agencies answer to the public.

The County Commissioners created this accountability gap when they imposed a decade of funding without voter approval. They also have the authority—and the obligation—to fix it.

What You Can Do

Until that happens, participation matters more than ever.

If the CCD insists on limiting access, the public must respond by showing up anyway.

Request your ballot. Encourage your neighbors to do the same.

• Online: https://www.clallamcd.org/election-ballot-request

• Phone: (360) 775-3747

• Email: info@clallamcd.org

Ballot requests must be submitted by 4:00 p.m. on February 18, 2026.

The CCD may believe it no longer needs to answer to voters. This election is your chance to prove otherwise.

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The relocation of Towne Road was celebrated. It won awards. County officials claimed it came in under budget. Commissioner Ozias even cited it as proof that Clallam County is “punching above our weight.”

Barely a year after opening to traffic, the road is already showing signs of failure.

Local resident Mitch Zenobi documented erosion following a recent rainstorm, posting video of washed-out gravel and sand exposing guardrail footings and beginning to undercut the raised roadbed.

Zenobi freely admits he is not an engineer — but the problem doesn’t require credentials to recognize. When the foundation of a newly completed public works project is visibly eroding, questions about construction standards, compaction, and long-term durability are unavoidable.

Awards don’t stop erosion. Good press doesn’t stabilize roadbeds.

More Crime, Fewer Questions

Five years ago this week, the Sequim Gazette police blotter listed 35 incidents for the entire week.

This year, that same week recorded 52 incidents.

That increase alone should prompt public discussion. Instead, it quietly passes by — another data point that rarely finds its way into policy conversations about public safety, enforcement priorities, or resource allocation.

Selective Appreciation

On National Law Enforcement Appreciation Day, the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe posted a message expressing deep gratitude for law enforcement officers — specifically Jamestown S’Klallam Tribal Law Enforcement.

The post praised those who protect “our community, our lands, and our treaty resources 24/7.”

Respectfully, the omission was notable. There was no mention of the Clallam County Sheriff’s Office or the Sequim Police Department — agencies that also patrol, respond, and protect buildings and properties of the Jamestown Corporation, often in coordination with tribal authorities.

Gratitude is most meaningful when it is inclusive. Consistently centering only one’s own institutions, while benefiting from shared systems and partnerships, reinforces the perception that concern extends only inward.

Charges Quietly Fade

Sergey Kubai, a recently arrived felon from Montana, was featured on Seattle-area news after being arrested three times in Clallam County in December on drug- and weapons-related charges.

Kubai has remained in the Clallam County Jail since December 30.

What has changed is the case itself. Of the eight charges originally associated with his arrests, half have now been “released by the prosecutor.” Two additional drug-related charges were never filed.

That leaves a great deal unexplained — and a growing sense that serious cases are being quietly reduced without public accounting. Transparency matters most when consequences fade out of view.

Name-Calling as Governance

First, Ron Allen dismissed concerned citizens as “complainers and whiners.” Now, his niece Paula Allen has added “creep” to the vocabulary.

In a public Facebook post, she admitted she had not read the CC Watchdog article in question, but stated she doesn’t “believe anything this creep says.”

This pattern deserves attention because Paula leads the Allen Academy of Leadership Development.

Dismissing critics without engaging their arguments is not leadership. Attacking people rather than addressing facts isn’t leadership either. In Clallam County, it increasingly appears that having the right last name offers leadership and insulation from scrutiny — while those asking questions are met with insults instead of answers.

That is not strength or leadership. It is avoidance.

Have Your Say on Hurricane Ridge

Not everything this week reflects dysfunction.

The public is encouraged to help shape the future of a new Hurricane Ridge facility as Olympic National Park begins early planning to replace its historic lodge, destroyed by fire nearly three years ago.

A public listening session will be held on Wednesday, January 14, from 4:00 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. at Field Arts & Events Hall (201 W. Front St., Port Angeles). Attendees can ask questions, offer ideas, and even bring photographs for a memory board honoring the original 1952 lodge.

Those unable to attend may submit written comments, which must be received or postmarked by January 21.

This is public process done right — open, transparent, and participatory.

A Warming Center Question

As temperatures drop, Clallam County has released a list of warming centers — including public libraries.

One major facility is notably absent.

The Jamestown Corporation’s Healing Clinic received millions in taxpayer funding, offers ample heated indoor space, is centrally located near Sequim services, and sits along existing bus routes. Yet it is not listed as a warming center. Posted signage states: “Restricted Access Private Property. Only patients, authorized staff and Jamestown S’Klallam Tribal guests are permitted.”

As buses and libraries grow crowded during inclement weather, residents are left to ask: if public dollars helped build this facility, why is it unavailable during emergencies?

A 2004 Warning Worth Revisiting

A 2004 article from the American Enterprise Institute reads today like a cautionary map of Clallam County’s present trajectory.

The piece examines the concept of tribes as “domestic dependent nations” and questions the legal and democratic implications of expanding sovereign authority within state boundaries — especially when it erodes local governance, accountability, and public access.

Casinos cause property devaluation and lost taxes when businesses and lands are taken over by tax-exempt tribes. While casino owners argue that they create jobs and help neighboring businesses, the casinos (which, as Indian enterprises, do not have to pay the same taxes or abide by the same laws as other establishments) actually damage competing businesses nearby–restaurants, bars, hotels, retail outlets. “When the Indian casino comes to town, nobody else does well,” says Benedict.

The author asks a question that resonates locally: how can Congress create governing powers within a state that it could never itself exercise?

As tribal governments expand land holdings, enterprises, and influence — often with limited local recourse — the concerns raised two decades ago feel increasingly relevant here at home.

The business impact and loss of property and sales taxes has some local communities teetering on bankruptcy. “The tribes hurt us in a number of ways,” explains Scott Peterman, president of Upstate Citizens for Equality. “They buy a property and refuse to pay property tax because they say they are re-acquiring their ancient reservation. Then they open a business on that property and refuse to collect sales tax.”

Disinformation, or Discomfort?

A Nextdoor discussion about Commissioner Ozias’ upcoming trip to Washington, D.C. — tied to his role as President of the Washington State Association of Counties — turned critical. Some residents questioned whether his attention is shifting toward political and special interests while local concerns take a back seat.

Former Charter Review Commissioner Jim Stoffer stepped in to defend Commissioner Ozias, calling the criticism from CC Watchdog “disinformation,” “false allegations,” and “character assassination.” He even suggested that handing over a county park to the Jamestown Corporation would be beneficial because it would “probably be maintained in much better condition.”

Here is a standing offer: point out a single factual error, identify one false claim, show where the reporting is wrong, and it will be corrected.

Until then, borrowing a phrase recently used elsewhere, accusations without specifics sound a lot like “whining and complaining.”

Hope, Not Handouts

Finally, a reminder of what real recovery looks like.

Many will remember Jake Seeger’s interview with Chelsea Jones — once homeless on the Olympic Peninsula, addicted, panhandling for drug money, pregnant, and ultimately losing custody of her child.

What turned her life around was not harm-reduction programming. It was rock bottom. It was accountability. It was the fierce motivation of a mother determined to get her child back.

Recently, Jones shared a powerful image: the sober version of herself holding the addicted version in her arms.