You don't have to think billboards are an assault on the landscape and the psyche to know that what's going on in Monroeville is an assault on the democratic process.
If the cynical back-room dealers win their siege, the outcome will likely be even more assault -- in the courts and on the Pennsylvania Turnpike-Interstate 376 corridor.
Tomorrow was supposed to be the day when Monroeville council members finally would decide whether to throw out their own zoning ordinances in favor of those written by a politically connected New Jersey billboard company specifically for its own benefit.
But at a work session Thursday night, council decided to table the issue yet again.
"I asked why," said Councilman Dave Kucherer, who has steadfastly voted against the outsourced billboard laws. "They said they needed more time to prepare."
It was in December 2004 that Interstate Outdoor Advertising first sought approval for billboard structures that are four times as big as and much closer to each other and to the highway than Monroeville ordinances now allow. Those billboards -- "litter on a stick" to us fans -- would decorate the pristine woodlands, including public parks, that border Monroeville's nine-mile stretch of the turnpike and I-376.
If you read up on the 21/2 years of Interstate's maneuvering, it's hard not to conclude that some kind of political fix is in. Interstate's Chief Executive Officer Drew Katz sat on the executive committee of Gov. Ed Rendell's transition team. His father, Lewis Katz, is one of Mr. Rendell's biggest fund-raisers.
Within weeks of Interstate's overture in Monroeville, Duquesne Light Co. requested that its "conservancy" lands be rezoned "industrial" so it could lease them to Interstate. After hearings and plenty of study, the zoning board said "no"; the municipal council overrode the board and voted "yes," with no public discussion.
A lack of honesty and transparency has characterized the municipal council's every step in this process. The zoning board and the planning commission have repeatedly denied Interstate's requests for egregious exceptions to local ordinances, only to have the council ignore these legitimate government bodies, defy its own beautification programs and greet resident outrage with silence.
One year into the conflict, however, a couple of council members were careless enough to reveal what was going on behind the scenes. Councilman Clarence Ramsey told the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette: "We're well-coached up there," referring to the municipal administration. "It's our typical management system ... telling us what's good and not so good."
(Apparently Monroeville's permanent bureaucracy doesn't wield the same power over the renegade zoning and planning people.)
Two councilmen admitted they'd attended private meetings on the Interstate matter. When asked who the billboard advocates were, one said, "A lot of people don't want it to be known who they were."
Although conventional wisdom in such cases is to "follow the money," so far the amounts involved are paltry, except those that Interstate would earn. Lately critics have started keeping track of Harrisburg grants to local entities, looking for any pattern or uptick.
Last week, just days ahead of the rescheduled vote, the Monroeville Area Chamber of Commerce announced its support of Interstate's plan, but in fact a bargain had been struck months ago. A contract between the chamber and Interstate providing "concessions" to local businesses was touted at a February planning meeting. (Interestingly, the minutes for this and other relevant meetings are not available on the municipal Web site.)
Tom Henningsen, a billboard opponent and former Westinghouse researcher, says he was denied a copy of that contract until a few days ago, when it was also sent to reporters. He considers Interstate's financial concessions meager at best: They're available only to chamber members, most extend for only three or four years, and they decrease precipitously if Interstate doesn't get all the billboards it wants.
Of the 18 members of the chamber's board of directors who voted on the issue, only three served on the committee that worked with Interstate, admits President Chad Amond. And plenty of the chamber's nearly 700 members are based outside Monroeville.
Yet the chamber's professed "empathy" for billboard opponents belittles them as "a small but passionate group of residents."
Adam Lynch vehemently disagrees with the chamber's put-down.
"We've packed that [council] room with well over a hundred people," said the retired local TV news anchor, who lives in Monroeville. Many more people "were watching the monitor in the hallway and standing outside" because they couldn't even get into the building.
Numbers aside, one group is clearly more representative of the citizenry and carries more constitutional weight. Its wishes are being ignored.
The state constitution says the people have a right not only to fair representation but also to "clean air, pure water, and to the preservation of the natural, scenic, historic and esthetic values of the environment."
Monroeville's portion of highway landscape is a public trust. What some of its leaders propose to do with this land is almost as ugly as how they're going about it.