By Michael E. Miller
By Allie Conti
By Keegan Hamilton and Francisco Alvarado
By Jake Rossen
By Allie Conti
By Kyle Swenson
By Chris Joseph
By Michael E. Miller
Dozell Varner Jr. hadn't seen the op-ed piece he penned for the Sun-Sentinel this past January 24 until New Times gave him a copy. That's because the assistant pastor at Mount Bethel Baptist Church of Fort Lauderdale refused to spend 35 cents on the newspaper. And though he accepted the editors' offers to write more, he's reconsidering. "If four people bought the paper to read what I have to say," he says, "that would be $1.40 more than I want them to make off me."
Or, more accurately, the way the Sentinel has covered the county's first and only countywide black elected official.
Members of the African American Ecumenical Ministerial Fellowship agreed on January 30 that the Sentinel coverage is slanted against Oliphant. "[The newspaper] is just short of seeing a black economic boycott," Varner says. "The Sun-Sentinel has demonstrated a complete lack of respect for our community. It's yellow journalism. It's cowardly. It's journalism that doesn't care about both sides. It's journalism to satisfy the powers that be."
And it's not just the Sentinel that some leaders of Broward's African-American community have criticized. They have charged the County Commission and the local Democratic Party with racism over their treatment of Oliphant.
Varner, a Jacksonville native, is 45 years of age, balding, 6-feet, 4-inches tall, and built like a monster truck. As a young man, he worked as a radio sports announcer in Jacksonville and thought he would follow a career in journalism. Instead, he spent seven years as a police officer before returning to college, obtaining a master's of divinity degree, and joining the Baptist ministry. He spent nine years as a pastor near Chicago and relocated to Fort Lauderdale and Mount Bethel five years ago. In recent weeks, he has become one of Oliphant's most visible and vehement defenders. He contends his views are broadly shared in Broward's African-American community.
Critics have hammered Oliphant like an avalanche. They pounded her after her inaugural election as supervisor -- that despicable September 2002 primary when some polling places never opened, new voting machines didn't work, a bunch of poll workers failed to show up, and ballots were missing for days. The media and some politicos have alleged that Oliphant is an incompetent supervisor who misspent taxpayer money, hired friends and then overpaid them, and steered contracts to political allies who didn't bother to complete the work. Lately, prosecutors and auditors have entered the fray: Local media including the Sentinel disclosed that she may have broken the law by hiding and perhaps discarding hundreds of uncounted absentee ballots.
Varner claims this incriminating aggregation is a campaign engineered by Oliphant's enemies on the Democrat-dominated County Commission to drive her (a fellow Democrat) from office or to convince Gov. Jeb Bush to remove her. At the instigation of those enemies, her entire staff of 59 employees may eventually be subpoenaed. "Who could withstand that kind of scrutiny?" Varner asks.
Indeed, most of the alleged wrongdoing is typical of the rewards and favor-mongering practiced by elected South Florida officials. Hiring friends? Steering contracts to supporters? It may not be right, but is it anything new? Haven't those sorts of charges been leveled at Oliphant nemesis and County Commissioner Lori Parrish?
So what if Oliphant spent money to make her predecessor's cramped and threadbare office nice? That's a time-honored tradition.
Sure she hired friends, but what about clerk of the courts Howard Forman? The former state senator gave his administrative assistant in Tallahassee a $92,000 job in the clerk's office. Forman also rewarded Bernard Schinder, a long-time political ally, with a $150-an-hour contract as the clerk's office auditor.
Varner admits concern that Oliphant overspent her budget by $900,000, but he points out she faced two significant issues: redistricting, a once-per-decade redrawing of precinct maps; and a change of the county's voting system from punch card to electronic. The electronic system chosen by the County Commission, which had originally balked at computerization, cost $17 million.
And, to keep things in context, consider that bureaucrats regularly spend more than they plan. The recently completed $40 million Hallandale Beach Boulevard Bridge, for instance, came in $5 million over budget.
Moreover, Oliphant took over the office of supervisor after the most screwed-up election in memory, the presidential debacle of November 2000. Oliphant supporters wonder what sort of havoc she inherited from her predecessor, Republican Jane Carroll.
Taken individually, Varner thinks, these examples of irresponsibility and cronyism wouldn't be enough to taint Oliphant's political future. It is the cascade of wrongdoing, he thinks, raining down on readers day after day in the pages of the Sentinelthat has created the image of Oliphant as an embarrassment to the office. Although the Miami Herald has reported the same information, Varner says the Herald's tone has been less crusading.
And the unopened ballots? "That is serious," he says. "I know the price people paid for me to be able to vote." But after the County Commission failed to pressure Oliphant into resigning and after Gov. Bush refused to remove her, Varner thinks the supervisor's opponents had to pin something more on her. "I, for one, am one of those who wonders if [the ballots] were planted there," he says. "With all the suspicious activity in that office, it wouldn't surprise me."