Broken Signal: The Lorain County Radio Scandal and the Collapse of Public Trust

PAC’d with Power: How ‘Freedom Circle’ Became Lorain’s Shadow Government

By Aaron C. Knapp
Investigative journalist and founder of Lorain Politics Unplugged, exposing the networks of power, corruption, and retaliation that local officials would rather keep quiet.

I. Introduction: A County Divided by Static

In early 2023, a deal to overhaul Lorain County's emergency radio infrastructure was abruptly reversed. The contract, awarded to Cleveland Communications, Inc. (CCI), had promised a next-generation Phase 2 radio system designed to protect first responders. It was a critical project, addressing long-standing radio failures that endangered public safety. But behind the scenes, a political coup was already in motion.

Less than a month after newly elected Commissioners Jeff Riddell took office—Dave Moore and voting against it was Commissioner Michelle Hung—they voted to rescind the CCI contract. The reversal stunned public safety officials and triggered outrage from multiple fire chiefs and union leaders. More than just a change in vendor, the move marked the beginning of what critics now call a coordinated campaign of political retaliation, cronyism, and public deception.

Since then, a widening web of litigation, ethics complaints, public records violations, and PAC-funded influence has enveloped Lorain County government. At the center of it all: a small circle of elected officials and private actors accused of dismantling transparency in favor of power consolidation. The stakes are no longer just about radio towers—they’re about whether Lorain County’s public institutions still belong to the public.

II. The CCI Contract: What Was Promised, What Was Pulled

The original contract between Lorain County and Cleveland Communications, Inc. (CCI) was signed in late 2022 under a previous board of commissioners. Approved unanimously by then-Commissioners Lundy, Sweda, and Moore, the agreement was reviewed and stamped as “approved to form” by the County Prosecutor’s Office, including Assistant Prosecutor Dan Petticord. The deal was meant to solve chronic communication failures that plagued the county's outdated emergency radio system—issues that had been documented for years by first responders.

CCI’s proposal included building a countywide, standalone P25 Phase 2 radio network tailored to local topography and first responder needs. The plan included infrastructure upgrades, system redundancy, and access for multiple agencies. Crucially, it offered local control—something many county fire and police departments had requested to avoid the monthly per-radio fees required under the state-run MARCS system.

In early 2023, however, just weeks after taking office, Riddell and Moore moved to cancel the contract. The official justification? Claims that the CCI deal was “a bad contract,” too costly, and improperly approved.

Yet public records and internal emails show no contemporaneous legal objections from the Prosecutor’s Office or county purchasing officials. In fact, sworn deposition testimony later confirmed that the contract had followed legal procurement procedures.

The timing of the reversal raised further eyebrows. The rescission occurred immediately after a coordinated political shift that saw Gallagher sworn in and a new voting bloc emerge. Critics say the reversal had nothing to do with cost or legality, and everything to do with political payback—particularly targeting those who supported outgoing Commissioner Lundy or had clashed with Moore.

Adding to the controversy, the State Auditor’s Special Investigations Unit and the Lorain County Sheriff’s Office later reviewed the CCI contract and found no criminal wrongdoing. Both cleared CCI and Hung, the prior administrator, of all allegations. Despite this, the new commissioners continued to push public narratives casting the contract as illegitimate.

Today, the decision to cancel the CCI contract is costing Lorain County millions in legal fees and lost infrastructure investments. A federal lawsuit by CCI (Case No. 1:23-cv-1561) is pending, and discovery materials are already revealing what some allege is a coordinated scheme to reroute public safety contracts for political and financial gain.

III. Silencing the Sirens: Retaliation and Leaked Security Docs

As opposition to the contract reversal grew louder within Lorain County’s own ranks, insiders who questioned the legality or wisdom of the decision quickly found themselves sidelined—or worse. Public records, emails, and deposition testimony suggest a deliberate pattern of political pressure, marginalization of dissenters, and the bypassing of legal protocols meant to safeguard public interest.

Several county staffers privately expressed concern about the rescission of the CCI contract. Some contacted the Prosecutor’s Office, but their inquiries reportedly went unanswered or were redirected to political leadership. One prominent voice, former Commissioner Michelle Hung, had supported the CCI bid and was vocal in defending the procurement process. Depositions confirm that Hung warned the board against canceling a binding contract without legal justification—warnings that were disregarded by the new majority.

In the months following the vote, power within county operations increasingly consolidated around Commissioners Dave Moore and Jeff Riddell. Multiple sources allege that Moore began taking over contract-related communications without routing them through the appropriate legal or administrative channels. These actions, critics argue, blurred lines of accountability and created opportunities for impropriety.

One of the most alarming developments involves the alleged leak of sensitive county documents marked "Proprietary & Confidential." Social media posts show that two individuals—neither of whom hold public office or formal roles in county government—came into possession of these materials, which appear to contain technical data on Motorola and CCI’s radio infrastructure proposals. For the purposes of this report, these individuals are identified by the monikers “The Money” and “The Mouth.”

Photographs and videos circulated on Facebook by The Money displayed these confidential binders in a private residence. The Mouth, meanwhile, discussed their contents publicly on a livestreamed video broadcast. While The Mouth never explicitly stated on-air how the documents were obtained, the context and timing of these materials surfacing alongside strong political commentary raised red flags for legal observers.

The concern is not simply political—it’s legal. According to the Ohio Attorney General’s Sunshine Law Manual, even records that qualify as public must be requested through formal channels.

And under Ohio Revised Code Sections 149.433 and 2913.04, documents involving emergency services infrastructure may be exempt due to public safety and cybersecurity concerns. If these documents include vendor specifications or operational schematics for 911 radio systems, their unauthorized dissemination could violate laws related to unauthorized access, receiving stolen property, or misuse of confidential information.

At least one internal investigation is now underway. Sources within the Prosecutor’s Office and outside investigative bodies have confirmed they are reviewing the leak to determine whether a breach of protocol—or statute—occurred. County employees familiar with the matter report a growing “culture of fear” within the Administration Building, where staff fear retaliation for speaking out or cooperating with investigators.

Although speculation has emerged online about personal relationships or possible leverage between Moore and one of the individuals in possession of the binders, no official statements or verified evidence substantiate those claims. As of this writing, no criminal charges have been filed.

Nonetheless, the known facts—unauthorized individuals possessing marked confidential documents, their appearance on social media, and the lack of proper records request procedures—paint a troubling picture. Whether this incident becomes part of the larger federal litigation or a separate criminal probe, it has added another layer to the climate of mistrust now engulfing Lorain County government.

IV. PAC Money and the Shadow Budget: Freedom Circle’s Political Footprint

In the background of Lorain County’s growing administrative chaos, a political action committee quietly amassed money and influence. Freedom Circle PAC, formed in March 2023 and chaired by Jim Park with Jason Hadchiti as deputy treasurer, emerged as a fundraising machine with a mission that remains murky to many observers—but its impact is now undeniable.

According to campaign finance filings, Freedom Circle PAC raised more than $65,000 in its first year. Contributors included Commissioner Jeff Riddell ($1,500), Commissioner David Moore ($1,000), and Commissioner Marty Gallagher ($1,000), alongside major donors such as Morgan Stanley’s Kent Hageman ($5,000), Consumers Builders Supply Co. ($3,500), and Citizens for Equal Representation ($6,000). Many of these entities and individuals had interests directly or indirectly tied to county contracts, appointments, or political campaigns.

The PAC’s expenditures also reflect strategic intent. Freedom Circle made payments to the Lorain County Republican Party and funded messaging campaigns to support selected candidates and attack opponents of the CCI contract rescission. Critics note that several social media campaigns aligned almost identically with talking points issued by commissioners, raising questions about potential coordination.

Watchdog groups and political analysts have raised ethical red flags. The PAC’s activities appear to mirror key moments in county decision-making—often within days of campaign contributions or targeted donations. As one example, the PAC received a $2,500 donation from an individual linked to a firm that later appeared on a county vendor shortlist. Another instance saw payments to a digital advertising firm weeks before a coordinated campaign was launched against former Commissioner Lundy.

Critics argue that Freedom Circle PAC created a triangle of influence: donors support the PAC, the PAC funds favorable candidates, and those officials make decisions that benefit the donors. While no criminal charges have been filed regarding the PAC’s finances, legal experts point to the potential for violations of coordination rules or indirect pay-to-play dynamics.

Transparency is also an issue. Several expenditures were routed through third-party vendors, masking the ultimate recipients. In other cases, individuals listed as donors later denied making the contributions in full—raising the possibility of straw donations or bundling.

As the CCI lawsuit proceeds, it’s expected that PAC communications and donor coordination will come under increased scrutiny in discovery. If investigators find proof of quid pro quo arrangements or misrepresentation in campaign finance disclosures, Freedom Circle could become not just a political liability, but a legal one.

Whether orchestrated or coincidental, the Freedom Circle PAC’s rise marks a turning point in Lorain County politics—one where influence flows less through public debate and more through private checks.

V. Armtwister’s Endgame: The Architect Behind the Collapse

Even as political scandals and lawsuits mount, many insiders point to one man as the quiet architect behind Lorain County’s public safety contract debacle: Jeff Armbruster. Though not an elected official, Armbruster has served as the County Administrator and a close advisor to Commissioners Riddell, Moore, and Gallagher. Known to some as “Armtwister” for his reputation in political maneuvering, he is now at the center of deposition demands in the federal lawsuit brought by CCI.

Armbruster, reportedly battling serious health issues, has continued working amid chemotherapy treatments—allegedly telling others he refuses to retire so that his wife maintains access to county life insurance benefits. Legal observers say this has added urgency to securing his sworn testimony before his health deteriorates further.

According to multiple sources familiar with internal communications, Armbruster played a significant role in persuading the new commissioner bloc to cancel the CCI contract. Despite the Prosecutor’s Office having stamped the contract as “approved to form,” and with no finding of wrongdoing by either the State Auditor or Lorain County Sheriff, Armbruster allegedly advised commissioners that the deal should be reversed—without providing formal legal analysis.

This reversal, some believe, was not about CCI at all. Rather, it was a calculated move to position the county to adopt the state-run MARCS radio system, which charges subscription fees per radio through the Department of Administrative Services (DAS). Unlike CCI’s fixed-cost proposal, MARCS represents an ongoing revenue stream. Critics argue that Armbruster, through personal and political connections to state agencies, had a vested interest in seeing MARCS implemented.

Documents and PAC donation records further support this theory. Gallagher, who aligned himself with Riddell and Moore in rescinding the CCI contract, received $14,000 in support from Freedom Circle PAC—allegedly coordinated through figures connected to Armbruster. One of Gallagher’s first public statements as commissioner included opposition to the CCI deal, aligning him with Armbruster’s behind-the-scenes efforts.

Public records also show that CCI continued to fulfill its obligations even after the contract was canceled—completing the final tower installation in the Oberlin/Wellington area and offering activation testing. Meanwhile, insiders say Armbruster and others began pushing for system replacements using “end-of-life” Motorola equipment, a move that could trigger compatibility issues and cost millions in replacement parts.

The logic of switching to MARCS appears to make little financial sense unless one assumes ulterior motives. MARCS fees go to the state—not the county—and do not provide the local control that agencies initially requested. For CCI, this transition represents the loss of not just a contract, but an entire infrastructure network it was prepared to maintain.

Now, with federal court proceedings advancing and subpoenas looming, the question isn’t whether Armbruster will testify—but whether his answers will unravel the defenses built by Riddell, Moore, and Gallagher. The longer he avoids deposition, the more critics suspect his role was foundational to a larger, more coordinated plan.

If Armbruster is forced to testify under oath, his words could mark the beginning of accountability—or the endgame for a scandal that’s already cost taxpayers millions.

VI. Silence from the Top: Prosecutorial Paralysis and the Quiet Collapse of Oversight

For months, Lorain County Prosecutor J.D. Tomlinson had remained curiously silent about the CCI contract controversy—despite being one of the few officials with the legal authority to intervene. His office not only approved the original CCI agreement “as to form,” but also received repeated inquiries from watchdog groups and internal stakeholders after the contract was rescinded. Yet no formal legal opinion was ever issued, and no public effort was made to defend the county’s prior commitments.

Insiders now suggest that Tomlinson’s silence was not merely strategic—but orchestrated. According to multiple sources familiar with discussions inside the prosecutor’s office, Tomlinson faced intense political pressure to remain hands-off. Commissioner Dave Moore allegedly warned Tomlinson to “stay out of it,” leveraging what several sources claim was damaging knowledge about Tomlinson’s past involvement in a confidential personnel payout tied to the county’s ERA rental assistance program.

At the center of that controversy was a $100,000 settlement quietly paid to former employee Jennifer Battistelli, whose discrimination complaint was quietly resolved without public disclosure—until deposition records leaked earlier this year. As one legal observer put it: “If Tomlinson went to war over CCI, they’d go public with everything about Battistelli and the ERA file. He was boxed in.”

This strategic silence extended to Assistant Prosecutor Dan Petticord, who helped negotiate the CCI deal and stamped it legally sound. Petticord has since avoided comment and was notably absent from key public meetings surrounding the fallout. Documents show he communicated with County Administrator Jeff Armbruster during the transition period—yet no record has been released indicating he objected to the rescission.

Former Judge James Burge, who briefly served as Chief of Staff for Tomlinson, allegedly advised against legal intervention. Emails obtained via records request confirm that Burge drafted internal memoranda dismissing ethics complaints tied to the contract reversal, citing “executive discretion.” Critics now argue Burge’s position was more about political shielding than legal merit.

The failure to challenge the contract cancellation or defend the county’s exposure to liability now looms large. Legal costs tied to the CCI litigation have already crossed six figures, with damages estimated in the millions. Despite this, Tomlinson’s office has refused to publicly account for its lack of action—nor has it clarified its current legal stance on the CCI suit.

Meanwhile, requests for public records tied to the reversal—including internal communications, justification memos, and donor coordination—have been repeatedly denied or delayed. Transparency watchdogs allege these denials violate Ohio’s Public Records Act and may be part of a broader effort to protect politically connected officials.

As momentum builds in federal court and discovery expands, questions remain about whether Tomlinson and his legal team will continue to sit out the scandal—or if a special prosecutor may be brought in to investigate potential ethics and criminal violations.

One thing is clear: the legal vacuum left by the prosecutor’s office has only deepened the scandal, allowing political interests to override contractual integrity, fiscal responsibility, and public trust.

VII. The Fallout: Public Safety, First Responders, and a Broken System

While Lorain County’s political class wages war in boardrooms and courtrooms, the county’s first responders are left holding the broken pieces of a system meant to protect them. Dispatchers, paramedics, firefighters, and police officers are now caught in the bureaucratic wreckage of a botched contract reversal—facing delays, equipment mismatches, and radio communication failures that many say have made their jobs more dangerous.

The contract with Cleveland Communications Inc. (CCI) wasn’t just a budget item—it was a critical step in modernizing the county’s 9-1-1 radio infrastructure. The network CCI was building was a Phase 2 digital system, designed to reduce dead zones and eliminate delays in interagency communication. According to internal project documents and statements made by emergency agency liaisons, the goal was to bring all of Lorain County’s fire, EMS, and law enforcement under one streamlined platform with local control.

That vision was upended by the January 2023 vote to rescind the CCI contract. “It was political from day one,” one township fire chief said privately. “The commissioners who canceled it didn’t even ask us how the system worked. We were just told it was over.”

Many departments had already begun transitioning to the new radios and towers when the reversal happened. CCI, for its part, continued building out the network—even installing the final tower in the Oberlin/Wellington area this spring. Despite the contract’s cancellation, CCI delivered testing capabilities and remained ready to activate the system. But without a countywide directive or clear legal pathway forward, agencies were left in limbo—using outdated Motorola units that are no longer supported and increasingly prone to failure.

This has created a dangerous situation. Some departments are now using a mix of legacy equipment, patched frequencies, and backup analog channels. Several municipalities have expressed concerns about gaps in coverage, particularly in rural and southern parts of the county. In one instance this spring, an EMS crew reported a five-minute delay in reaching dispatch due to a failed signal—a delay they say “could have killed someone under different circumstances.”

Even more alarming is the county’s decision to move forward with replacing CCI’s Symphony console systems at the 9-1-1 call centers with Motorola’s “end-of-life” products—devices the manufacturer itself acknowledges will soon be obsolete. Critics say this not only wastes the investments already made under the CCI contract but also forces departments into the MARCS network model, where monthly subscriber fees are paid to the state’s Department of Administrative Services (DAS). As one fire lieutenant put it: “We’re basically being held hostage. The state wants the money, and the county’s helping them get it.”

Interviews with dispatch personnel and agency heads confirm that many feel cut out of the decision-making process entirely. The Lorain County Fire Chiefs Association, typically consulted on major communications decisions, was never formally brought in before the CCI contract was canceled. Public meeting records show no vote or input from 9-1-1 Advisory Board members prior to the rescission.

The human cost is rising. Morale among dispatchers has reportedly dropped, with some citing increased call loads and unclear protocols amid the technical transition. Several local chiefs have said on background that they’re considering requesting state or federal intervention if the system isn’t stabilized soon.

What began as a political maneuver has now cascaded into an operational crisis. The infrastructure CCI was hired to build was meant to last decades. The replacement strategy being pushed now may not survive the next five years—let alone serve the long-term safety needs of Lorain County’s nearly 315,000 residents.

“The technology was the easy part,” said one EMS director. “What’s hard is working in a system where politics matter more than performance. And right now, that’s what we’ve got.”

IX. Silence from the Top: Tomlinson, Petticord, and the Vanishing Oversight

As the controversy surrounding the CCI contract deepens, one question echoes louder than any other: Where was the Lorain County Prosecutor’s Office when all this happened?

The original CCI contract was marked “Approved as to Form” and signed by then-Assistant Prosecutor Dan Petticord, with Prosecutor J.D. Tomlinson’s name affixed. By all legal standards, that notation made the contract binding and presumed valid under Ohio law. Yet when the new majority on the Board of Commissioners moved swiftly to rescind it in early 2023, the Prosecutor’s Office went quiet.

No legal memorandum was issued warning of potential breach. No public advisories were released regarding litigation risk. And most significantly, no public defense of the contract was offered, despite its formal approval just months earlier.

Behind the scenes, legal insiders now allege that Tomlinson may have deliberately withheld involvement to avoid confrontation with Moore. “He knew the contract was legal. Petticord signed it. Burge knew it. Everyone did,” said one individual familiar with the office. “But Tomlinson was in a political corner. Moore knew things about him and Battistelli—and that leverage worked.”

The reference, of course, is to the 2023 EEOC complaint filed by Jennifer Battistelli against Lorain County and the Prosecutor’s Office. That complaint—ultimately settled for $100,000 in taxpayer funds—named Tomlinson in connection with workplace retaliation and internal misconduct. Public records indicate that Tomlinson and Moore were in frequent communication during the height of the ERA rental assistance scandal and subsequent cover-up, further entangling legal and political liabilities.

Former Judge James Burge, who briefly served as Chief of Staff under Tomlinson, authored a memo dismissing complaints against Moore at the height of the CCI fallout. That memo has since been criticized for lacking citations, investigative rigor, and basic procedural transparency. Critics now see it as part of a broader pattern of prosecutorial inaction designed to shield Moore and Riddell from accountability.

Meanwhile, Petticord—now embroiled in conflicting deposition testimony regarding who gave legal clearance for the CCI deal—has offered little explanation. In sworn statements, he claimed ignorance of key facts despite having signed the contract. “That contract went through all the proper channels,” said one former assistant prosecutor. “The only reason it got yanked was because of politics, not process.”

The Prosecutor’s Office, which under ORC 305.14 is charged with defending the Board of Commissioners and ensuring the legality of contracts, effectively abdicated its responsibility when the contract was challenged. Legal experts now argue this opens the county to not only breach of contract damages, but also ethics inquiries into whether the office failed in its statutory duties.

Requests for comment from Tomlinson’s office have gone unanswered, an now he has been voted out of office, making it less likely the Public will ever get an answer. And with upcoming federal depositions set to compel testimony from Armbruster, Gallagher, and others, the silence from the Prosecutor’s Office grows louder—and more suspect.

In a case that has exposed the fissures in Lorain County’s political and legal infrastructure, perhaps the most glaring crack is not in the radio network, but in the prosecutorial chain of command that allowed this crisis to metastasize unchecked.

X. A Network of Influence: When Politics Trump Procurement

What began as a technical contract dispute has since unraveled into what critics now call a coordinated network of influence—one that leveraged campaign money, personal loyalties, and political intimidation to derail a multimillion-dollar public safety project and redirect power inside Lorain County government.

Key to this transformation was not just the rescinding of the Cleveland Communications Inc. (CCI) contract, but how decisions afterward were steered. Documents obtained through public records requests, campaign finance reports, and internal county communications suggest that decisions regarding radio infrastructure procurement, public statements, and legal exposure were made not solely for public benefit—but to protect allies and penalize critics.

Freedom Circle PAC stands at the center of this web. Since its formation in 2023, it poured over $65,000 into Lorain County political races. While legally allowed, the concentration of donors closely tied to public contracts—and the recipients’ immediate role in votes or policy shifts—has raised eyebrows. One anonymous political consultant claimed: “This PAC isn’t just backing candidates. It’s buying silence. It’s buying retaliation.”

Those who voted against the contract—Commissioners Moore, Riddell, and Gallagher—received direct or indirect financial and rhetorical support from PAC affiliates. Records show that PAC deputy treasurer Jason Hadchiti and treasurer Jim Park coordinated contributions from entities tied to the radio transition effort, including Consumer Builders Supply and other firms with county bid interests. Commissioner Gallagher donated to the PAC just before reversing his campaign trail support for CCI’s contract.

Meanwhile, individuals who spoke out in support of CCI or raised concerns about MARCS were reportedly met with political pressure—or investigated. According to statements from fire chiefs and local officials submitted in internal correspondence and depositions, dissenting fire chiefs were marginalized in 911 planning conversations. Others pointed to sudden terminations, contract denials, or the withholding of budget items from critical departments.

“Procurement is supposed to be about price, specs, and need,” said one former 911 administrator. “But this was about punishment. If you weren’t on message, you didn’t get a seat at the table.”

The loss of trust has extended beyond political circles. Local fire departments—many of whom initially praised the CCI system’s buildout—now express uncertainty over whether they’ll be required to switch to MARCS, the state-run network that charges monthly per-radio subscription fees. Some say they weren’t consulted. Others say they fear retaliation for saying so.

At the heart of this alleged influence system is a key motivator: subscription revenue. Sources close to the case suggest that by switching Lorain County to MARCS, certain private vendors and state-aligned contractors stand to benefit long-term—especially as proprietary networks like CCI’s operate independently and don’t generate recurring DAS fees. “This wasn’t about radios,” said one IT official. “It was about recurring dollars. And who gets them.”

Whether or not criminal charges emerge from the grand jury investigations currently underway, one thing is clear: The line between campaign finance, procurement, and public safety has grown dangerously thin in Lorain County. And the fallout may still be in its early stages.

XI. Final Thoughts: Power, Accountability, and the Public’s Right to Know

As the dust settles—if only temporarily—over the CCI radio contract, what remains is not just a question of procurement missteps or campaign finance ethics. It is a larger crisis of governance. A system meant to serve 312,000 residents has instead revealed fault lines of power consolidation, secrecy, and political self-preservation.

The cancellation of the CCI contract was not a routine policy reversal—it was a flashpoint that exposed deeper fractures. Decisions were made behind closed doors. Public safety concerns were reframed as budgetary issues. And individuals who asked uncomfortable questions—whether fire chiefs, administrators, or citizens—found themselves sidelined, investigated, or targeted.

What began as a dispute over infrastructure has become a referendum on the future of Lorain County’s political culture. Should influence be purchased through private PAC dollars? Should proprietary materials tied to 911 systems be distributed without oversight? Should top law enforcement and legal officials remain silent when statutes are circumvented?

These are not partisan questions. They are foundational ones.

The state auditor’s office has already cleared the original CCI contract of wrongdoing. Investigators are now reportedly focused on how county property ended up in unauthorized hands, whether campaign donors were granted unfair access, and why procurement decisions deviated from prior approvals stamped by the Prosecutor’s Office itself.

Lorain County residents deserve answers, not talking points. They deserve governance defined by transparency, not triangulation. And they deserve to know whether decisions made in their name are made lawfully—or politically.

The question now is not whether lines were crossed. It is how many, by whom, and whether anyone will be held accountable.

Legal Disclaimer

This article is a work of investigative journalism. All information presented herein is based on publicly available documents, official records, verified financial reports, eyewitness statements, and communications obtained or reviewed by the author. Where specific allegations or secondhand reports are included, they are identified as such with appropriate qualifiers (e.g., “allegedly,” “reportedly,” or “according to sources”). The inclusion of any person’s name does not imply guilt or wrongdoing unless confirmed by legal finding or official documentation.

The author has made every reasonable effort to ensure accuracy at the time of publication. Any errors or factual inaccuracies are unintentional and will be corrected upon verification. Opinions expressed are those of the author, Aaron C. Knapp, in his capacity as an independent journalist and contributing writer to Lorain Politics Unplugged. This article does not constitute legal, financial, or professional advice.

Under the First Amendment to the United States Constitution and Ohio Revised Code 149.43, this publication exercises its right to investigate and inform the public on matters of government accountability, political conduct, and public interest. All individuals are presumed innocent unless proven guilty in a court of law.