Officials work on changing government

SIKESTON, Mo. -- A year ago, when Sikeston residents grumbled about their elected officials, it wasn't so much about their decisions -- there was some of that -- as it was about who they were.

All but two elected officials in the city's history were white in a town that's now 22 percent black. They mostly lived on Sikeston's north side, the neighborhood that houses the city's wealthiest residents.

So in October 2000, on the heels of the city council's open letter to the community indicting the West End's "criminal class" and landlords who "house people like animals," a core group of five or six began circulating a petition with one simple question:

"Shall Sikeston have ward representation instead of at-large representation?"

It launched an effort that, if adopted, would change Sikeston's form of government and alter the city's future. The 13 men who would write that future -- the Sikeston Charter Commission -- were elected in November 2000 from 21 candidates. They will have the city's charter compiled by the end of the year, and voters will decide in April whether to adopt it.

The biggest change: going from a five-member council elected at large to a seven-member council with four elected from wards.

The first elections using the new charter's ward system would be in April 2003 as the current council's staggered terms begin to run out. To commission members who studied other cities, including ward representation in Cape Girardeau, it's the best of all worlds.

Voters will decide

Some Sikeston residents aren't so sure. Dorothy Crowe, 53, who has lived here 32 years, attends almost every city council meeting -- one of the few who do so. She isn't sure how she will vote in April.

"If you get the charter, I don't see where it will do a lot of good," she said. "People still won't go to any meetings except those that specifically affect them."

Others welcome the change.

"It will mean better representation for people in certain areas," said Raymond Roberts, 22.

Harry Sharp, commission chairman, was one of those who circulated the October petition. He lives on Kramer Street on the city's north side, but he is well acquainted with people on the opposite end of Sikeston's social and economic spectrum.

Sharp was a member of First United Methodist and coordinated an exchange program between his massive, white church and a small, black church on Sikeston's West End, Smith Chapel United Methodist. He is an ordained minister licensed by Westminster College, and Smith Chapel's members invited him to be their minister when an opening was available.

Sharp accepted and served there for five years.

"We were welcomed in Sunset and dropped off the social A list," Sharp said.

The reaction wasn't unexpected. He was a junior at Sikeston High School when it integrated in 1954. He left to pursue his master's degree in science and eventually a 26-year career with IBM in sales and education. He returned to care for elderly parents in 1993.

"I came back here and saw the racial situation was worse than when I grew up," Sharp said. "After 30 years of the civil-rights movement, I thought it would be better."

It was worse, he said, because racial hatred had simmered to an untrusting dislike between the black and white communities. There was a "father knows best" attitude on the council, he said: They acted, and people were supposed to accept the decisions.

Benefits of home rule

Mayor Jerry Pullen disputes that notion. He said the five councilmen always looked out for the whole city. They have spent less street money on the north side than in any other neighborhood. And there have been constant overtures to the West End where most blacks live, including invitations to participate in government.

But he and other councilmen had a reason to like the idea of a charter commission as well. They studied the benefits of adopting a home-rule charter form of government.

Patrick Cronan, a Rocheport, Mo., lawyer who represents the Missouri Municipal League and the Sikeston Charter Commission, explained the differences.

"It is similar to the difference between being 15 years old and 25 years old," he said. "At 15, you ask permission before you do anything. At 25, you do whatever you want, subject to limitations put on you by society."

As a Class 3 Missouri city -- decided by population and form of government -- Sikeston's guidance comes from Chapter 77 and part of Chapter 78 of the Missouri Revised Statutes. With a charter, the city could write its own laws. It would have more freedom to enter into agreements with other governments for the benefit of Sikeston's citizens.

There are only 36 charter cities in Missouri. The closest to Sikeston is Cape Girardeau.

And a charter would give the people more control through initiative, referendum and recall. For example, if the city decided to spend its entire street budget on one project to the detriment of everything else, 15 percent of voters in the last election could call for a recall election to depose councilmen who voted in favor of such an expenditure.

The same voters could pass their own ordinance demanding 25 percent of street funds be spent in each of the four wards. Or they could simply repeal the council's ordinance.

The charter's conflict-of-interest provision would keep council members from voting on issues that could benefit them. As it stands, they merely must disclose they have a financial interest in certain matters, but they still can vote.

And it would keep them from accepting gifts not available to the public, such as St. Louis Rams box seats from corporate officials.

Commission's heavy burden

Charter commission members say they're always conscious of the heavy burden they carry: Sikeston could rise or fall based on their work.

Scott Jenkins, the commission's youngest member at 30, said he didn't hesitate to run for a position with the group. He and his brother own two Fasgas convenience stores in the city.

"This is going to affect me for the next 50-plus years," he said. "The work I am doing now will affect me longer than anyone else on the commission, because I will be in Sikeston for the rest of my life."

The meetings are mostly congenial, sometimes attended by one or two citizens but more typically by a few people with some connection to city government. A laptop computer screen with the proposed charter is projected onto a larger screen for all to see, and a clerk painstakingly enters revisions.

It's a tedious process as members go through it line by line, word by word in a darkened room. At one recent meeting covering vacancies, recall elections and right-to-work, member Scott Matthews stood alone on a point. At least one of his fellow commissioners felt bad for him.

"I keep trying to do something for you, Scott," Troy Wilson said.

Matthews shook his head. "It would be gratuitous if you voted for the damn thing now."

Wilson chuckled. "Then ... no."

The room erupted in laughter.

But other meetings aren't so congenial. Commission members argued noisily over whether the Board of Municipal Utilities, currently an autonomous board appointed by the council, should become more of an advisory board. The BMU operates the city's power plant and has more than $30 million in reserves.

Once BMU members explained that all the reserves are allocated and can't be accessed without a vote of the plant's bondholders, the motion to make the BMU budget process part of the city's budget process failed 10-to-1 with two members absent.

Cronan, the attorney, said disputes are inevitable, but the charter will work if all the commissioners get behind it. If not, it will fail at the polls.

Sharp predicts success because of compromises.

"I'm very optimistic that nobody will go out and campaign against it," he said.

hhall@semissourian.com

335-6611, extension 121