Randy Evans's blog

I am surely not the only person who has wondered what it was like to live through various big events from history, events that occurred long before I entered this world in 1950.

This curiosity has led me to contemplate events like the Civil War, the growing tensions in Europe and America before World War II, the lynching of black people by vigilantes in the South during the first half of the 20th Century, the internment of Japanese-Americans in the Western United States during the 1940s, and the various waves of anti-Jew, anti-Catholic, anti-Italian and anti-Irish thinking in our country.

What would have been going through my mind then? How would I have reacted? Would I have sat by quietly, or would I have stood and spoken out from my corner of America?

I sometimes think government officials overlook the important role the public plays in our system of government.

That was my takeaway last week from the monthly meeting of the Iowa Public Information Board.

When Mrs. Gentry lectured in my high school government classes 50+ years ago, I remember her talking about how American government is participatory. The public can attend meetings of government boards, she told us. People are free to express their opinions to government leaders.

I’m sure you have heard the old tale about Iowa’s bountiful cornfields – about closing your eyes in the summer, listening carefully at night and being able to hear the corn grow.

Here’s different image to ponder: If you open your eyes and look around carefully, I think you can see our state changing right in front of us. And I’m pretty certain we are not going to like where we end up.

My role as executive director of the Iowa Freedom of Information Council has taken me from border to border in our state.

The message I’ve preached at each stop is a simple one: Transparency is a fundamental part of good government, and government officials risk undermining their respect and credibility when they try to minimize their accountability to the citizens.

I have spent 50 years as a journalist asking questions, listening to the responses, and closely observing the people and events around me.

Somewhere along the way, my observational skills must have failed me. Apparently, I have missed a lot.

Otherwise, I would have noticed those lines of people eager to join and remain in the ranks of the poor.

Here we go again.

The ink is barely dry on the $1.75 million check the taxpayers of Iowa had to write last fall to settle a sexual-harassment lawsuit won by an employee of the Iowa Senate Republican staff.

The leader of the Senate Republicans, Bill Dix of Shell Rock, resigned March 12, a few hours after photos and a video were made public showing him kissing a lobbyist for the Iowa League of Cities.

There’s more.

There was noteworthy news coming out of the Iowa Legislature two weeks ago.

This may surprise you, but I am not referring to the headlines about Bill Dix, the Iowa Senate’s majority leader, although that news certainly created a buzz from border to border.

The Shell Rock Republican resigned a few hours after photos and video were made public that showed him at a Des Moines bar kissing a lobbyist employed by the Iowa League of Cities.

People like to say we control our own destiny.

But in some of the most important aspects of that destiny, we have zero influence.

None of us has a say in where we were born. We aren’t consulted about who our parents will be. Nor are we looped in to the decision-making that determines our birth family’s economic status.

Mr. President, may I have a few minutes of your time? I would like to suggest an alternative to the big Veterans Day parade in Washington, D.C., that you asked the Pentagon to plan.

I certainly appreciate your desire to honor the men and women in our armed forces who are serving our nation around the globe. I understand you want to show off the equipment our military has at the ready.

The last big military parade was 26 years ago after the end of the first Gulf War. That was the war that made a no-nonsense general named Norman Schwarzkopf, who commanded the coalition forces, a household name.

That priest in Australia nailed it with his message on the Anglican church sign last week: “When Will They Love Their Kids More Than Their Guns.”

The sign was a pointed reference to the latest St. Valentine’s Day massacre in the United States.

This massacre didn’t involve a bunch of thugs shot to death with machine guns in a garage on the north side of Chicago. That was in 1929. This one involved 14 students and three faculty and staff members shot to death with a semi-automatic rifle at a high school in Parkland, Fla.