Photo By Jymi Bolden

Police Chief Thomas Streicher Jr. speaks to the reporters he allowed into a press conference on March 8.

Dear Chief Thomas Streicher Jr., Things just can't go on like this. Why did you kick me to the curb on March 8? Why did you tell your staff at Cincinnati Police headquarters to bar CityBeat from a press conference?

You called the press conference to discuss the bizzare incident March 6 in South Fairmount, in which a handcuffed suspect in the back of a cruiser somehow took out a gun and started shooting.

Were you afraid we'd embarrass you worse than you embarrassed yourself by ordering your poor public information officer, Fran Cihon, to keep me out? That's what I heard her tell the receptionist, anyway. See, I had plenty of time to just chill in the lobby after Cihon told me, "I'm sorry, we're admitting people only from media agencies that we've invited."

You don't call, you don't write
Every other media representative filed into the special press conference room. Then the door was shut on me. Since you never return my calls, that's all I've got to go on.

All this, on the very day The Cincinnati Enquirer ran a front-page story with a headline praising you for "meeting critics, challenges head-on."

Our photo editor, Jymi Bolden, got into the press conference, no questions asked. Thus our photo of all the TV mics lined up. Yep, everyone but me.

When Bolden asked you why CityBeat's reporter wasn't allowed, you seemed surprised, told him you don't know anything about it, said you'd look into it. Well, if you did, we don't know it.

We do know Vice Mayor Alicia Reece's chief of staff, LaTonya Springs, wasn't allowed in either. That made Reece spitting mad, of course, and she shot off a memo to City Manager Valerie Lemmie.

Lemmie, your boss, wrote a memo assuring Reece that "I will also inform the chief (that) city staffers and all media outlets are allowed to attend media briefings."

Come to think of it, Lemmie doesn't return my phone calls either. But city spokeswoman Meg Olberding did.

"The city manager has informed the chief that city staffers and all media outlets are allowed to attend media briefings," she said. "If there was an inconvenience, it certainly was regrettable and we hope that it should not happen again."

Councilman David Pepper joined, well, most everybody in being taken aback by my ouster.

"Obviously I don't agree with that at all," he said. "I don't understand how they can do that."

Pepper chairs the Law and Public Safety Committee, which just last month subpoenaed CityBeat contributing writer Leslie Blade about a story that made some members of the police department, including you, look pretty bad (see Protection Racket, issue of Dec. 10-16, 2003). And, yeah, it was the second or third time we'd called for your resignation (see the editorial, Change at the Top, same issue).

Lt. Anthony Carter, filling in for police spokesman Lt. Kurt Byrd, says the "invited" media reps were on a media list. Inclusion on the list had to be requested. No, Carter said, he didn't know how to make that request or what standards or guidelines were applied, nor who made the decisions -- he'd try to find out. He didn't get back to me by deadline.

Carter told The Cincinnati Post that, to get on the list, all we have to do is ask. But our news editor, Greg Flannery, says we've made several requests over the years to get on that media list. No go.

"On the surface it certainly doesn't sound very good," says Councilman Jim Tarbell, who has perfected the art of the measured response.

Can't we just talk?
Well, not only doesn't it sound good, but based on legal precedent it's probably illegal.

Should I really trot out the list of district, appellate and Supreme Court decisions to make my case? Try reading Westinghouse Broadcasting Co. Inc. v. Dukakis, Borreca v. Fasi and Lewis v. Baxley.

All that said, I guess I can understand why CityBeat and the CPD have never been particularly buddy-buddy (see Blade's award-winning Piling On, issue of Oct. 3-9, 2002). I hear all the time how my editor has royally pissed you off in the past. But this is just too much.

I've never been anything but cordial to your officers. Hell, even the Fraternal Order of Police allowed me into a press conference -- and they don't legally have to (see Death in Custody, Dec. 10-16, 2003).

True, during that televised press conference I asked FOP Vice President Keith Fangman to name the black suspects killed by Cincinnati Police under questionable circumstances. I just wanted to hear Fangman speak their names. But that's pretty much the extent of my mean streak.

So you don't like us because we write bad things about you and your department. Well, how are we supposed to write good things if you won't talk to us? I'm dying to write about Officer Princess Davis, who appears everywhere with her big smile and good deeds. I'm dying to write about District 1 Capt. James Whalen, who has impressed me with his fair handling of protesters, who seems (from my distant vantage point) to command enormous respect all around.

Chief, can't we just talk? How can you be a leader in this city by talking to only half of it? This silent treatment is poisonous, worse than any pen.

How good would an "I'm sorry" be to hear, just once in a while, if you mean it? Whalen managed it when police ruined a block party in Over-the-Rhine (see Party Crashers, issue of Aug. 6-12, 2003). It's the least you can do. It's a start. It's what humans do when they screw up.

Well, now I've got to go write a story about getting thrown out of police headquarters. If you want to break this silence between us, you'll find me at 513-665-4700, extension 136. But you won't find me holding my breath. ©