# Chapter 5: Local Government

The sun began to peek over the horizon as I drove on the winding roads of Lehigh County, Pennsylvania, heading towards my office. The morning light cast a golden glow on the landscape, illuminating the bustling activity of public works employees repairing roads and trash collectors operating their large trucks. As I drove into Allentown, the third-largest city in PA, the vibrant morning scene painted a picture of a community in motion.

Lehigh County is more than just a picturesque spot in the Keystone State; it's a thriving community supported by the diligent efforts of our municipal and county governments. However, behind this outward vitality lies a contrast that few see. As I pulled into the parking garage designated for County Government employees, the crumbling ceiling and faded exterior of the building starkly contrasted with the morning's energy. It was a testament to the hidden challenges we face in maintaining our infrastructure, often sidelined by budget constraints and public perception.

Walking into the building, I passed the sheriffs protecting the premises. Mornings were a busy time as people needed to go through the metal detector.

"Good morning, Jack," I greeted one of the deputy sheriffs.

Jack, a seasoned deputy, smiled and responded, "Morning! It's a busy morning as usual. We're ensuring everyone goes through the metal detector smoothly. Some of the deputies are assigned to transporting inmates to court today. It's always a busy day with a full court schedule."

"Good luck today," I said, making my way towards the elevator. Just yesterday, one of my employees attended a sheriff's sale where properties are foreclosed and auctioned off to settle debts. This process is essential for enforcing court judgments and ensuring that creditors can recover their dues.

The Sheriff's Office handles a wide array of duties that are vital to maintaining law and order in the county. From securing the courthouse and serving warrants to transporting prisoners and conducting sheriff sales, their work often goes unnoticed by the public. They even handle concealed carry permits, ensuring applicants meet all legal requirements before issuing a license. Unlike in some areas where sheriffs and police share similar duties, here, each municipality is responsible for its own police force, while the Sheriff's Office covers county-wide responsibilities.

My phone rang in my pocket. Balancing my lunch in one hand, I managed to answer.

"Hey Controller, have you made it to work yet?" It was the Coroner, Dan. Great person.

"I'm just getting in," I laughed. I wasn’t always the first one to work, but I usually arrived earlier than most and was often one of the last to leave. Dan was the same way.

"Your staff just wrapped up the financial audit of the coroner's office. I have a few questions about it that I was hoping you could answer."

"Sure thing, Dan. What's up?" I replied, shifting my lunch to my other hand.

"Well, I was going through the audit, and there were a few points about our operations that I wanted to clarify. You know, we handle a lot here—everything from investigating sudden or unexplained deaths to managing the morgue and conducting autopsies."

"Yeah, your office does quite a bit. In fact, I know we noted that you are accredited by the International Association of Coroners and Medical Examiners," I acknowledged.

"Exactly," Dan continued. "My investigators look into over 9,000 cases a year. It's a 24/7 operation, and we have a dedicated team including forensic pathologists, morgue technicians, and X-ray techs. We provide forensic expertise to help solve crimes. Plus, we're involved in community education, particularly about drug overdoses and public health issues. It's about prevention as much as investigation."

"Dan, if I remember correctly, our audit only had a few findings and they were all around uncollected receivables."

"Yes, just so you have a better understanding, we charge other counties when we perform autopsies for them. Not every county has a coroner or they may have too high a workload. We then charge the other counties. We also charge funeral homes when they need authorization for cremation. These are the two big areas where we have slow, and I mean slow, payers."

"Yes, yes, I realize. The report is just suggesting that your staff run a collections report more often so that you can let people know they are past due. Also, I know the county takes credit cards now. It might be prudent to have the other counties pay us this way."

Our conversation continued. Dan was just looking for clarity. He ran a good office and always worked with the Controller’s office to ensure he was properly accounting for things and doing right by the taxpayers.

As I hung up the phone, I realized I hadn't even pushed the elevator button yet. The climb up four flights of stairs seemed daunting, but then again, so did waiting for the elevator's arrival. Laziness triumphed over logic, as it so often does, and I resigned myself to waiting for the elevator.

As the seconds ticked by, a group of Children and Youth caseworkers emerged, their steps heavy with the weight of their day's work. These unsung heroes, I thought to myself, carrying burdens most of us can scarcely fathom.

Their days are spent navigating the treacherous currents of family crises, diving headfirst into the murkiest depths of human suffering. When that hotline rings, they answer the call, steeling themselves for whatever horrors might await on the other end.

With the meticulousness of detectives, they piece together the puzzle of a child's life, interviewing witnesses, gathering evidence, and separating fact from fiction. Each medical report, each arrest record, offers a fragmented glimpse into a world most would prefer to ignore.

But their role extends far beyond investigation. Like architects of hope, they construct support systems tailored to each family's unique needs – counseling, resources, safety nets woven from the threads of community compassion.

Meticulously, they document every step, every action, every follow-up, creating a tapestry of accountability that is meant to make sure that no child's story goes untold, no cry for help unheeded.

Yet, for all their tenacity, their ultimate goal is one of preservation – to keep families intact, to address the root causes that threaten to tear them apart. Only when all other options are exhausted do they resort to the anguishing act of removal.

As the elevator doors finally parted, a voice cut through the momentary silence. "Hey, don't forget you have a meeting with the DA tomorrow," the deputy shouted, his words a timely reminder amidst the day's chaos. The district attorney's office was just down the street, not far from the main government center. Though the courts, the DA's office, the wills office, and the sheriff's main office were all housed in different buildings, they were conveniently within walking distance.

"Thanks," I replied with a quick wave, stepping into the elevator car.

In our county, as in many others, the public's tax funds could be divided into two broad categories: the local taxpayer contributions and the external sources – grants, federal funding, state allocations, and more. But when it came to that hard-earned money from our residents' pockets, nearly three-quarters went towards maintaining the intricate machinery of Law and Order.

Law and Order, in our context, encompassed a network of agencies and services – the sheriff's department, the coroner's office, the county jail, the public defender's office, the district attorney's realm, and the courts themselves. All of these entities fell under the jurisdiction and financial purview of the local county government.

Yet, for all the resources poured into this sector, I couldn't help but wonder if the average citizen truly grasped the governmental structure. When issues arose – trash left uncollected, streets unplowed after a winter storm – did an average citizen know which level of government to hold accountable? The lines between municipal, county, state, and federal responsibilities often blurred, leaving constituents adrift in a sea of bureaucratic ambiguity. In Pennsylvania, the county government functions as an extension of the state government, performing numerous services funded by the state. Over half of our expenditures are financed through state allocations. This arrangement underscores the county's role in implementing state policies and programs at the local level, ensuring that essential services such as public health, human services, and criminal justice are effectively delivered to residents.

As the elevator ascended, my thoughts drifted towards the meeting with the district attorney. It was a stark reminder that, in our county, the pursuit of justice and the preservation of order took precedence over all else, a priority etched into our very budget. Whether this allocation of resources truly aligned with the needs and values of our community remained an open question, one that I knew would continue to fuel debates and shape policies for years to come.

*Ding!* The elevator doors opened on the second floor. Two more floors to go, but this is where the Lehigh County Office of Veterans Affairs is located. Here, we directly assist veterans, their families, and survivors in obtaining the federal, state, and county benefits they are eligible for as a consequence of their military service. We provide counseling and help prepare and submit claims and applications for benefits such as service-connected disabilities, pensions and gratuities, emergency financial assistance, and burials. As a veteran’s representative, we liaise with the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs and its various offices, including the Benefits Administration and the Board of Veterans Appeals, as well as departments and commissions within the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania and Lehigh County.

I am considered a veteran, but it's hard to feel like I deserve to call myself one when there are people who have done far more than I have. I served in the Army Reserve, spending only six months on active duty. Despite this, I deeply appreciate what the VA does for our vets. All of the services the county provides to our nation's heroes, is accomplished on a minuscule sliver of the county budget - we spend less than a penny per tax dollar to serve our veterans. Just as a reminder law and order is 73 cents per tax dollar, the VA is less than a penny.

The average citizen is often unaware of the functions of county government and may not know how it differs from municipal government. In Lehigh County, we manage a budget of half a billion dollars. As the Controller, my office is responsible for auditing all agencies that use taxpayer money, ensuring transparency and accountability.

At the very heart of our county's administration is the County Executive, the highest-ranking official who oversees and directs all county operations and initiatives. County Executive Phillips J. Armstrong's role is similar to that of a mayor but on a much larger scale, encompassing the entirety of Lehigh County rather than just a single municipality. As an elected official, he directs most of the county's agencies. However, he does not direct the "row offices."

Row offices, such as the Controller's Office, are named for their historical placement in a row on the election ballot when the departments were first established under the early constitution. The row offices in each county differ a bit the main functions are similar. These officers include the Clerk of Courts, Controller, Coroner, District Attorney, Prothonotary, Recorder of Deeds, Register of Wills, Sheriff, and Treasurer. Their duties can range from issuing passports, marriage licenses, death certificates, and firearm registrations to prosecuting criminal cases, maintaining the county's auditing responsibilities, and enforcing the law in various court matters.

The services provided by row offices are often more familiar to residents than the titles of the offices themselves. For example, these offices handle a wide array of essential services such as providing dog and hunting licenses, and maintaining records of vital statistics. Row officers primarily function independently, ensuring a system of checks and balances within the county government.

Armstrong's responsibilities touch upon virtually every facet of county government. From managing the day-to-day operations and overseeing a myriad of departments to ensuring all public services run efficiently and effectively, the executive's decisions and policies have a direct impact on the quality of life for all our residents.

One of the most critical aspects of Armstrong's role that I've witnessed firsthand is budget management. Each year, he works closely with department heads, meticulously allocating resources and balancing the needs of public safety, infrastructure, healthcare, and more. It's a tough juggling act that requires prioritizing spending and making difficult decisions to uphold fiscal responsibility. I've seen how the executive's budgetary choices can ripple through the community, determining the fate of projects and services that touch countless lives.

But budgets are only part of the equation. Armstrong also plays a central part in developing and implementing new policies and initiatives tailored to address our community's evolving needs. From the extensive planning and coordination across departments to engaging with stakeholders, ensuring these programs are both practical and beneficial is no small feat.

Then there are the crises that truly put leadership to the test - natural disasters, public health emergencies, economic upheavals. In those crucial moments, it falls on Armstrong to coordinate the county's response efforts, mobilizing resources, working hand-in-hand with emergency services, and clearly communicating with the public.

Through it all, the County Executive serves as the ambassador for our government, advocating for Lehigh County's interests at the state and federal levels. Securing funding for local projects, collaborating with officials to tackle broader issues - these are all part of Armstrong's mandate as he represents our community on a grander stage.

Steering Lehigh County's direction is the responsibility of its nine-member Board of Commissioners, the legislative arm of county governance. This board comprises four at-large members who represent the county as a whole, and five district representatives, ensuring every corner of Lehigh has a voice in the decision-making process. With their diverse backgrounds and constituencies, the commissioners bring a range of perspectives to the table, shaping policies that impact the entire community.

The budget is the lifeblood of the county, and the commissioners hold the purse strings. Every year, they meticulously review and approve the financial blueprint, balancing fiscal prudence with the need to fund critical services. The approval process is rigorous, ensuring that every dollar spent serves the public good.

While the County Executive, Phillips J. Armstrong, directs most county agencies, the commissioners provide a necessary counterbalance. They operate independently, their legislative powers creating a system of checks and balances that ensures no single entity wields unchecked power.

The collaborative relationship between the County Executive and the Board of Commissioners is essential for effective governance. While the County Executive manages the administration and execution of policies, the Board of Commissioners provides legislative oversight and ensures that the executive’s actions align with the community’s needs and values.

The fluorescent lights hummed a melancholy tune as I stepped into my windowless office. Without nature's embrace to brighten the space it could have easily sapped my spirits. But I had learned long ago not to surrender to the gloom. We transformed the office over a weekend, armed with a paintbrush and a couple of friends. The smiling faces of my family, frozen in time, now adorned the walls, and candid snapshots captured the laughter and love of family moments. It was a small effort, but it made the space more welcoming.

With a contented sigh, I settled into my chair. On my keyboard sat a was a yellow piece of paper that contained a list of all nine Lehigh County commissioners with their names, emails and phone numbers prepared by Michelle. I needed to inform them about the ongoing Children and Youth Services audit. Typically, we only involve the commissioners once an audit is complete, so I send them the final report. I suspect they rarely read these, as most audits are dry and unengaging unless there's an urgent issue.

The stories that families had shared were deeply unsettling, and the full extent of the impact was yet to be determined. It was absolutely essential that the commissioners were informed about my preliminary findings and the gravity of the situation. By involving them from the outset, I hoped to secure their attention and support, ensuring that the issues we uncovered would not be overlooked. This was a crucial audit, one that was about protecting vulnerable children and holding the system accountable.

My finger hovered over the phone as I contemplated who to call first. David Harrington's name floated to the top—not just a commissioner, but a friend who I felt would listen and try to understand the situation. David, a young immigration lawyer in his first term as a commissioner, seemed like the right person to start with. This call would help me prepare for conversations with the other commissioners, many of whom were not allies and viewed me as someone who stirred up trouble—something they typically avoided.

After a few rings, David answered, his voice still carrying the enthusiasm of someone relatively new to politics. I informed him about the impending audit on the Children and Youth Services, emphasizing the alarming rate at which Dr. Debra Jenssen at Lehigh Valley Hospital was diagnosing Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. Our analysis revealed that 40% of the state's cases originated from our area, despite us comprising only 14% of the child population.

David's response was thoughtful, reflecting his legal training and desire to get things right. The significant discrepancy caught his attention immediately. I elaborated on Dr. Jenssen's troubling track record, noting that her conclusions had been questioned in New York and Florida. Her diagnoses, often made without thorough evidence, had devastating effects on families. We had already uncovered cases where her diagnoses were overturned, but only after the families endured significant hardship.

David considered the implications seriously. This pattern suggested a potential systemic issue. I explained that I wanted to keep him and the other commissioners informed from the beginning, given the potential for widespread systemic abuse and false accusations. Families were suffering, and it was imperative that we act swiftly to protect them.

I assured him that I was working on compiling case briefs about the lawsuits she faced in New York to provide comprehensive information. David, while initially skeptical, acknowledged the importance of the issue and asked to be kept in the loop, requesting any information I could provide to stay informed.

After hanging up the phone, I hoped I had conveyed the facts clearly enough for Dave to grasp the gravity of the situation. His family also relied on the hospital network where this doctor practiced, given they had a young child. I moved on to the next commissioner I needed to call – Bob Elbich.

Bob Elbich was renowned for his unwavering commitment to public service. He had once been a Republican but switched to the Democratic party after 2016. His political shift was driven by a deep desire to foster greater civic engagement and voter turnout, leading to the establishment of an activist organization focused on these goals. Elbich's dedication to community service extended beyond politics; he had been an active volunteer firefighter for years. His hands-on approach to helping the community was one of the things I admired most about him.

Bob and I typically got along well, even though he wasn't my biggest fan. Our differences in approach to driving change were clear: he preferred a slower, steadier path, while I believed in more aggressive tactics. Despite our disagreements, I valued his perspective and knew his methodical approach could complement my own when addressing complex issues.

When I called Bob, I detailed the report I was compiling and my suspicions about the doctor's potential misdiagnoses. I let him know that I thought the report would highlight several alarming patterns and cases that suggested a broader issue within the counties practices when removing children from their home. I told him that if there was misdiagnoses of child abuse that it could have devastating consequences, not only for the children and their families but also costs to the county as well as putting the county in the position where it could potentially be sued.

Our discussion lasted nearly 30 minutes. I walked him through each point, ensuring he understood the severity and implications of the potential medical errors. Bob listened attentively, his questions revealing a keen interest in understanding every facet of the issue. He asked me to provide additional information, including specific case studies and statistical data that supported my claims. I assured him I would compile and send over the requested documents promptly.

I felt confident that Bob had a comprehensive understanding of the issue by the end of our conversation. His commitment to thoroughly reviewing the materials reassured me that he would approach this matter with the seriousness it deserved. Bob's meticulous nature meant he would leave no stone unturned, a quality that was invaluable in addressing such a critical issue.

As I prepared the additional information for Bob, I reflected on the importance of having allies who, despite different methods, shared the same end goal of improving our community. Bob's methodical review of the materials would provide a solid foundation for any actions we decided to take moving forward. My investigation had just begun, and I knew there was much more to uncover about the affected families and the doctor at the center of these troubling diagnoses. I also believed that we might identify processes and procedures that needed improvement to better assure our citizens that we were committed to protecting them from systemic failures and ensuring their well-being.