Peter Jones
From a beach chair in Clearwater Beach, Fla., vacationer Sue
Rosser called a reporter on her cell phone to talk about
Centennial’s efforts to go home-rule. Her husband, Mark, sat
nearby, bemused and not altogether surprised by the turn his day on
the beach was taking.
Discussing a city’s efforts to garner increased autonomy under
the Colorado Constitution may not be on the typical vacationer’s
itinerary, but Sue Rosser is not your typical vacationer, nor is
she your typical Centennial resident.
Since moving in 1998 to what was then unincorporated Arapahoe
County, Rosser, 58, has become one of the city of Centennial’s most
devoted civic activists — the rare breed that regularly attends
city council meetings, volunteers weekly for civic functions and
understands the workings of city government as well as most city
officials do.
“I should be doing more, I think,” she said of her seemingly
nonstop activities.
The retired geologist and mother of two grown children made her
unlikely transition to full-time interested citizen in 1999. She
had heard rumblings that a plan by Greenwood Village to annex the
Park Meadows mall included taking part, but not all, of her
neighborhood and that the only way to stop it would be to found a
new city first.
“I realized that the South Metro area was at a crossroads, and
if we allowed Greenwood Village to proceed as they wanted to
proceed, we would never be able to reel things back again,” Rosser
said.
Around the same time, her mother, who had Alzheimer’s disease,
was moved into a nursing home — a development that pushed Rosser to
re-evaluate her priorities and venture into the world of unpaid
public service.
“For a woman who was very valuable in teaching a lot of lessons,
the most profound lesson my mother ever taught me, she was
oblivious to,” Rosser said. “What you have in the end is your
legacy and your family.”
Before long, a new civic activist was carrying petitions door to
door and stopping her neighbors at the grocery store to tell them
all about a plan to found what would become the City of
Centennial.
A night at the city council
As the Englewood City Council deliberated the merits of a
proposal to prohibit smoking on sidewalks near Swedish Medical
Center, Matthew Crabtree sat in the back row taking copious notes
on his laptop.
“As city councilmembers, you have the opportunity to help
myself, help my unborn child, help our neighbors have a peaceful
life,” citizen Derek Ball testified, arguing that the hospital’s
efforts to prohibit on-campus smoking would encourage hospital
visitors to smoke in front of his nearby house instead.
Later, when a representative from the Colorado Band Masters
Association detailed the matter-of-fact particulars of parking
plans for an upcoming Englewood marching band competition, Crabtree
was still typing away with studious abandon.
The 26-year-old in the back of the room is not a newspaper
reporter, nor is he the city clerk. And he is not being paid for
his time or typing skills as he sits through countless hours of
Monday night discussions of code enforcement, land development and
tax issues.
“I believe in community involvement in government. That’s how
our vision of democracy works best,” Crabtree said. “When I’m
sitting there — and sometimes it’s literally just me, not even city
employees — there’s somebody from the public sitting there. If I
wasn’t there, who would have been there to make it a public
meeting?”
For more than a year, as chairman of Englewood Citizens for Open
Government, Crabtree has made it a point to attend virtually every
regular meeting and study session of the Englewood City Council.
The resulting “minutes” are posted to his organization’s Web site,
englewoodcitizens.org.
Plans call for eventually making audio recordings of the meetings
available, too.
According to Crabtree, there is absolutely nothing wrong with
the city’s official minutes as transcribed by the city clerk. But
it can take more than two weeks for those notes to become available
to the public, he said.
Granted, there may be few citizens anxiously awaiting the
release of city council minutes, but there is another reason
Crabtree has become a fixture of the Englewood City Council.
“I really do enjoy it,” he said. “I’m happy with where I live. I
think the city has fantastic potential and when I get to those city
council meetings, it’s just an injection of information about the
city.”
But Crabtree adds, “Sometimes there have been topics that have
been a little bit on the yawn side.”
It takes all kinds
A small group of political gadflies and council chamber regulars
is part of the fabric of many cities and towns. But as a result of
young Centennial’s contentious incorporation effort, many of the
city’s residents have a greater-than-average personal stake in the
7-year-old city — one in which many of its baby-boomer-age founders
still walk the city sidewalks.
“Our civic activists have ownership in this city because they
helped form it,” said Centennial’s founding mayor, Randy Pye.
“They’ve been there since the beginning and they take it really
personally if we do something that doesn’t fit quite right for
them. I think we will always have the Sue Rossers and I hope we do
because she is intelligent and sees things from a perspective that
helps us.”
Rosser has burned enough calories for membership in Centennial’s
hard-core league of foot soldiers. She says she walked virtually
every neighborhood street in west Centennial while carrying
petitions in support of the incorporation.
“If you give me a Centennial address, I’m like GPS,” she said.
“If I read in the paper that some kid was arrested in the 6300
block of South Raven — that’s Heritage Village. I can almost
picture it.”
In a world of busy lives and a depreciating dollar, the life of
a civic activist carries its share of social bewilderment. Rosser’s
dedication to all things Centennial has sometimes caught her loved
ones and friends by surprise and amusement.
“My family just rolls their eyes,” she said. “But they’ve said
they’re really proud of what I do. My husband is so patient about
all this. I know a lot of people in the community who can’t be as
active because of their spouse.”
Among local reporters, elected officials and her fellow civic
activists in Centennial, Rosser is known as one of the more useful
all-purpose sources about goings-on in the city.
When a onetime reporter for the Centennial Citizen inherited a
list of phone numbers from the journalist who had previously had
the job, Rosser’s entry read, “a woman who knows about everything
that’s happening in Centennial.”
Citizen Rosser’s passion for the community has gone beyond a
tolerance for four-hour meetings on land use. Her lifestyle
stretches into helping her neighbors directly — not just ensuring
that their local government is serving them.
Rosser helped introduce a location-detection device for
wandering Alzheimer’s patients to the Arapahoe County Sheriff’s
Office, Centennial’s law enforcement provider. She also works
weekly with Meals on Wheels, a service that delivers cooked food to
the low-income elderly.
“I think in different ways, all these things help the citizens
of the South Metro area,” she said. “I don’t know that parking
issues can in any way be compared to just making sure some elderly
person has a meal. But I think both of those things help people
with their quality of life.”
After almost 10 years of low-profile support work, Rosser
recently took the next step of running for office last year when
she served on the Centennial Charter Commission, the 21-member
unpaid body that drafted the city’s new home-rule charter. In May,
she was elected to the board of directors for South Suburban Parks
and Recreation.
Neighborhood politics
Crabtree first began attending Englewood council meetings more
than a year ago after buying his first home in the city. He says an
over-the-fence conversation one day with a civic-minded neighbor
made him realize that the city council had been operating in
something of a public vacuum. It was a disappointing revelation for
one of the city’s newest taxpayers.
“There seemed to be no community involvement,” he said. “I had
always pictured city council meetings as a packed audience and
everybody’s there to discuss what’s going on.”
According to Crabtree, without a watchdog — or anyone, for that
matter — in the audience, a city council can tend to become lazy
about decorum and adherence to the “sunshine laws” that require
open government meetings.
“Oftentimes, council is there by themselves and it really
creates a lackadaisical feeling. Policies and procedures might fall
out of place at that point,” the activist said.
Crabtree’s enthusiasm for civics has yet to catch on in the city
of 33,000. Englewood Citizens for Open Government boasts about
eight or 10 members by its founder’s estimate.
A broadcast engineer by profession, Crabtree would like to see
the council’s actions take a more prominent role in the public
square and hopes that the council will eventually broadcast its
meetings as some area cities do on public-access channels.
Although Crabtree sees his council monitoring as a public
service not unlike the volunteer work he does for Habitat for
Humanity, at least one councilmember has expressed skepticism about
his organization’s motives.
“I don't know what their agenda is or their complaints are
concerning decisions made by city council,” said Councilman Bob
McCaslin in a public meeting in September. “… I would like to ask
this group to have an open dialogue … or invite us to their
meeting, so we can work in the best interest of the citizens and
not just special interest groups.”
According to Crabtree, his only “agenda” regarding council
meetings is simply to be there. He estimates that he spends about
15 hours a week taking minutes, reviewing city documents and
performing other functions that he says keep the public informed
and the city council in check.
“I think the whole process is fascinating,” he said.
Anatomy of an activist
Civic activists come in many forms and attitudes — from the
one-issue, public-comment regulars and would-be city council
aspirants to the citizen who publishes his own city-oriented
magazine.
Such interested citizens can play an important function in local
government as long as they understand their role, said Sam Mamet,
executive director of the Colorado Municipal League, a coalition of
most of the state’s cities and towns.
“I admire them, though some view them as a pain in the neck,” he
said of the civic activists he has met when traveling through
Colorado. “I look at these folks as people that are interested in
local government. But they’re not elected officials. They’re not
policy makers. If they wish to be, they need to take the next
step.”
Many do. Pye was elected the City of Centennial’s top official
in 2001 after serving as a leader in the original incorporation
movement and taking an active citizen’s role in the Arapahoe County
governance that preceded Centennial.
“I guess there are some of us who have this in our DNA and we
find this interesting,” he said with some irony in his tone. “I
hate to use the word ‘hobby,’ but it’s an interest of ours. We
enjoy it. It’s a little like entertainment.”
Very little, according to some.
Crabtree remembers being approached by a bewildered Englewood
city employee one evening after a particularly dry council meeting
they both had just endured.
“He says, ‘Wow, I’m paid to be here and I have to be here. You
just show up to these. You need to get a life.’ He was joking
around. He’s a great guy. I didn’t take offense at all,” Crabtree
said.
Mamet says he has lightheartedly made the same suggestion about
life discovery to a number of citizens who have recognized him from
his appearances on government-access television.
“People watch this stuff and they love it,” he said.
For Rosser’s life, the line between her civic and social worlds
has become blurry.
“Through the incorporation, I met so many people who have
remained friends,” she said. “They’re Democrat, Republican, gay,
straight, old, young.”
According to Pye, that diverse array of activists has played a
sometimes crucial part in the civic process.
“They are a second set of eyes for us because there are some
times when elected officials get caught up in the trees,” he said.
“Interested citizens have a tendency to bring a different
perspective.”
For example, Pye says he recently changed his mind on a
sales-tax issue as the result of a conversation with an active
Centennial resident.
While Rosser has transitioned into lower-profile elected
positions, Crabtree is comfortable in his role as a sort of civic
watchdog and says he has no plans to run for public office.
Both are content with what they say is a sometimes uneventful,
but important lifestyle choice — one they are convinced has made a
difference in their communities.
“It’s not just the political stuff. On Monday, I combed fur
balls out of a cat for a lady,” Rosser said of her Meals on Wheels
duties.
As for Crabtree, he confesses that he is in a minority among the
20-something adults in his circle.
“I’m not really terribly into sports, so watching football on
Monday night, that’s not really a concern for me,” he said. “Some
of my friends think I’m crazy. But this makes me happy.”
Citizens play active role in city government
A common reaction: Do you have a life?