Podcast listeners were expecting today’s scheduled audio-only interview with OMC Hospital Commissioner Ann Henninger. Unfortunately, Henninger had to cancel yesterday, citing work obligations and her wish to pause, reflect, and honor Pregnancy and Infant Loss Memorial Day. This interview will not be rescheduled.
Clallam County’s new “monthly Q&A” was supposed to make government more accessible. Instead, it’s become an excuse for silence. Commissioners brush off constituent questions while granting activists front-row access—some of whom have publicly broken the law. It’s a snapshot of how selective engagement, not open dialogue, now defines county government.
Two months into the county commissioners’ commitment to hold a monthly Q&A during the fourth Tuesday midday meeting, it’s becoming increasingly clear that while this is marketed as increased engagement, it’s being used to do the exact opposite.
At Tuesday’s commissioner meeting, a constituent used public comment to ask questions that had already gone unanswered by email—specifically, whether the board had made any progress on a request to speak with the Jamestown Tribe about contributing more to the county’s tax base.
“If you would like to ask a question, the appropriate time would be after the meeting,” advised Commissioner Mark Ozias, who also serves as the county’s tribal liaison.
While that approach may work for campaign donors like Norma Turner, in practice, it has resulted in a statement of, “You’ll have to figure that out all by yourself, but it’s not going to be from me,” as Commissioner Ozias went out the back door.
Commissioner Mike French added, “As you know, we have commissioner Q&As once a month. You could choose to ask that question at one of the Q&As.”
French, who campaigned on a promise of “robust public engagement,” now says your only chance to engage with your elected officials is once a month. In reality, these Q&As have become a justification to disengage from the public for 29 days out of 30—so they can take 45 minutes to answer a handful of questions once a month.
Who the commissioners do make time for is revealing. Earlier this month, they invited Brel Froebe, a climate activist and police abolitionist, to give a two-hour presentation on removing prime DNR timberlands from the harvest schedule. Froebe appeared via Zoom but still got a seat at the table.
Also present was Elizabeth Dunne, a legal advisor for the Earth Law Center (ELC), who played a key role in securing an injunction in Clallam County Superior Court halting the logging of 300 acres of legacy forest in and around the Elwha watershed—an injunction brought by ELC and the Legacy Forest Defense Coalition (LFDC).
The court’s order temporarily stopped all logging and road building, pending further review. ELC argued that DNR’s logging practices threaten the Elwha River ecosystem and the endangered Southern Resident orcas that depend on salmon runs restored after the historic dam removals.
It appears that the threat of litigation gets a seat at the table ahead of ordinary citizens.
Froebe and Dunne were there to discuss the Doc Holliday Timber Sale—a project disrupted by activists who were filmed by the Seattle Times while committing misdemeanors by removing and defacing DNR boundary markers.
In the footage, they enter the parcel, remove DNR survey markers, and proudly describe their actions as environmental resistance.
“There are some things more important than just obeying a law,” says Tim Wheeler in the video, as he removes a marker.
“Sorry, DNR. Not sorry,” adds Lisa Dekker.
“The goal is to have them step back a little bit, and they’re going to have to redo it—it’s going to slow them down,” says Keith Dekker.
Peter Steadman explains that all road and survey markers needed to be removed. “When you see pink, just pull it off.”
Tim Wheeler, Lisa Dekker, and Peter Steadman attended Froebe’s Doc Holliday presentation, seated comfortably in the county boardroom—the very space meant to represent law and justice.
You may recognize Tim Wheeler, who is a reporter for Communist Party USA.
He has attended Communist Party conventions across the globe.
He is also a trustee of the Clallam County Democrats.
In his online biography, he proudly recalls campaigning for Commissioner Ozias: “I must hurry. We are going out right now to do doorbelling for Mark Ozias for Clallam County Commissioner.”
After Commissioner Ozias’s proclamation this month, Wheeler posted on Facebook praising him for “rebutting all the smears and slanders” during the county’s Indigenous Peoples Day proclamation. Wheeler described critics of the proclamation as “racists” and mocked a “young MAGA” speaker who opposed favoritism toward any group.
That “young MAGA” was me—the gay vegan who’s been identified as a KKK member, removed from a volunteer position, called a monster, and had photos of my home posted online, all by members of one political party. The same political party of which Tim Wheeler is a trustee. I’m not MAGA. I’m an independent who voted for candidates from three parties last November, including RFK. But this is what happens when you question power in Clallam County.
When the leadership of one party goes out of its way to ridicule and smear citizens, something is broken. When activists who vandalize public property are welcomed and platformed—while peaceful petitioners with 1,032 signatures against a new $5 conservation tax are ignored—something is wrong.
Even more revealing are the personal ties between activists and our elected leaders.
Peter Steadman, one of the activists, owns a home built from wood—wood that came from trees. He co-owns it with Alexandria Fermanis, an employee at Olympic Peninsula Community Clinic (OPCC), which just entered into a partnership, approved by the commissioners, to treat county jail inmates for substance abuse disorders.
Fermanis drew recent criticism after posting a photo of the moment Charlie Kirk was shot in the neck, captioned, “Charlie Kirk finally leaning left on the gun issue.”
And who happens to be the immediate past president of OPCC? Commissioner Mike French.
Two days after the vandalism at the Doc Holliday parcel, these same activists delivered the stolen DNR markers to Olympia and posed proudly for a photo. These are the people being embraced and amplified by county leadership—while those who follow the rules, pay their taxes, and try to engage respectfully are told to “wait for Q&A day.”
Why would activists feel so emboldened that they could film the very crimes they’re committing—then walk straight through the front doors of the courthouse, take their seats in the county boardroom, and be welcomed by the very officials charged with following laws? It’s a question that speaks volumes about the double standard at play—especially when Commissioner Mike French himself has suggested that “property destruction is not only fine, it’s usually the only way we’ve ever seen actual change happen”.
When the county gives lawbreakers a seat at the table and shuts out taxpayers, public service has lost its way. Respect for government doesn’t come from titles or slogans—it comes from listening, fairly and equally, to the people you serve.
