Public records remain off-limits
Public still in dark after Pike County murders
It has been 17 months since Pike County deputy sheriffs found the bodies of seven adults and a teenager shot to death, execution style, at four rural Ohio homes. Residents fear monsters still walk among them. Surviving members of the Rhoden family, awash in grief and disbelief, have no answers.
Justice has not been served.
It also has been a year since The Dispatch filed a lawsuit in August 2016 with the Ohio Supreme Court against the Pike County coroner’s office, saying that it is improperly withholding the final autopsy reports in this mass killing.
Justice has not been served.
Concealing public records that could shed light on the circumstances of the crime — and perhaps even lead to solving the crime, should someone recognize a key detail — is cruel to the family and community. They are left to imagine their worst nightmares about how their neighbors and loved ones died. Give them the dignity of the truth.
But it also is a slap at Ohioans. Public officials are playing games with public records. Those responsible for upholding the law don’t get to pick and choose which laws to follow.
The Dispatch’s lawsuit has yet to reach resolution, but the court of public opinion moves more swiftly. Attorney General Mike DeWine, who is fighting to withhold the reports, is on political quicksand. This information belongs to the public.
Don’t take our word on this.
Dr. Jan Gorniak, Franklin County’s former coroner, said in a deposition in the Dispatch case that during her six years in office, “… each request was fulfilled without redaction since we were obligated to do so, since final autopsy reports are public record.”
David Marburger, a lawyer and expert in publicrecords laws, said the Pike County coroner and attorney general to withhold the autopsy reports are relying on an outdated 1984 law to justify withholding the records as “confidential law-enforcement investigatory records.” In fact, the attorney general’s own Sunshine Laws handbook cites state code superseding that ruling.
“There is strong argument — strong — that the final autopsy report is public record,” Marburger said.
The Dispatch requested the records three months after the slaying of the eight Rhoden family members. At first, Coroner David Kessler maintained that releasing the reports “might impede the criminal investigation or the families’ grieving process.”
It’s not his responsibility to consider the impact of releasing a public record. And Kessler, in a deposition, testified he’d never discussed with law enforcement whether the reports contained confidential information.
Meanwhile, there’s no evidence authorities are any closer to an arrest today than they were after the killings in April 2016. DeWine succeeded in dragging out the public-records lawsuit by requesting mediation, which The Dispatch already had attempted informally, while virtually mocking the public-records laws by releasing copies of the autopsy reports that were so heavily redacted they were useless.
The Dispatch’s fight to obtain these records isn’t about publishing sensational details. The paper has been measured in its reporting. There’s a precedent at stake. Access to public records is vital. It allows citizens to see what the government is doing. In this case, it might even reveal a killer.
We fight on. We expect better. Justice has not been served.