c. 2025 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(5-25)
Regular meetings of the Geauga County Commissioners often involved business that was routine in character and straightforward to consider. Things of a mundane sort, details about prospective projects, and concerns raised by residents of the district. But as Gretel Hahn brought their official interaction to order, she struggled to maintain the quiet confidence that had made her a distinguished leader, respected by those of all political stripes. She shuffled through a folder of paperwork, looking for a document with contact information for Evergreen Estates, the rural community of mobile homes. Staying in touch with out-of-state owners had been a priority for years. But with the efficiency drive instituted by Pemmican Asset Management, suddenly, that line of communication was no longer available.
“Regarding our trailer community, south of Sidley’s Hill, I have to confess being unable to reach anyone in California. Or at any of the satellite offices that supposedly exist. None of the telephone numbers we’ve used in the past seem to be working now. There has been a complete cutoff of information. A literal blackout! This is perplexing, to say the least...”
Portnoy Fleck unbuttoned his shirt collar, after loosening a necktie patterned with logos of various Cleveland sports franchises. He was younger and less patient than his commissioner matron. But no less skilled at being an administrator for county affairs.
“Gretty, with respect, I just don’t get how that could happen. Who’s collecting the lot rent? And paying park utilities? Somebody has to be in charge of that dump! You can’t run a business without someone in control!”
Dan Dulnikowski groaned, and tapped his pale fingers on the conference table. He had the look of a young accountant who was bored with crunching numbers, professionally.
“I agree with that statement! C’mon, Mrs. Hahn, you’ve been around the block more than a time or two. Can’t you figure this out?”
The lead commissioner felt her pulse rising. She flipped through pages, with each entry crossed out, in pencil.
“I’ve had staffers try every line we ever used. There is no answer at any of these numbers. Tenants are paying rent through an online portal, except for a few that are not computer savvy. They send old-fashioned checks to a post office box somewhere on the west coast. Evictions have been ordered through a judge here, there appears to be one lawyer retained by the owners to represent their company, in Ohio...”
Danny D. was blunt in his reaction. He had run out of patience. His tone shocked the other commissioners.
“SO, GET IN TOUCH WITH THAT LAWYER, AND MAKE THE BASTARD DO HIS JOB!”
Mrs. Hahn had to catch her breath before reacting. Her cheeks had turned ruddy, and tingled slightly.
“Yes... you are right of course. If he is our only contact here with Pemmican Asset Management, then so be it, we’ve got to make a connection somehow!”
Once a summons had been issued, the county stewards were eager to see if an arrest warrant would be necessary to flush out this legal representative. But one week later, the unusual sight of a black, Mercedes sedan broke their mood of speculation. After circling the courthouse, it parked nearby, and a tall, anonymous figure exited, carrying a briefcase stuffed with documents.
Fortrell Koch had the appearance of someone who made a living lingering in the shadows. An expert on the law, and an adviser who took care to never be in the spotlight, himself. As he stood before the adjudicator who had ordered him to appear, a hint of disinterest betrayed honest emotions that were buried under layers of professional conduct.
“Your Honor, I think this call to your bench is highly unusual, to say the least. Nevertheless, here I am, on behalf of the PAM group of investors...”
Judge Alten Sleeman was curt and quick in his demeanor. He had little time to coddle anyone, specifically a contact that had been reluctant to appear, until an official instruction was issued. After smoothing his robe, he peered over the top of his half-frame, reading glasses.
“Sir, you are employed by the Pemmican group from California?”
The attorney nodded and gestured as if signaling obedience.
“Yes indeed. I have been contracted to oversee their business here in our state...”
The seasoned justice sorted through documents that were on his bench.
“You are the only person directly involved in day-to-day operations at the trailer park on Pine Trail Road? There is no property manager, no maintenance crew, no office staff? No chain of communication for keeping in touch with the residents?”
Koch unbuttoned his blazer, with the room temperature seeming to rise.
“The PAM group has found some novel ways to increase efficiency within their operation. I would point out that they are based on the ingenious strategies being used by Elon Musk, right now. Ohio voted overwhelmingly to endorse President Trump, and the DOGE initiative. I think that gives the owners cover for what they are doing to cut waste, fraud, and abuse...”
The judge nearly spit over his gavel while flailing, wildly.
“NONSENSE! YOU CAN’T JUSTIFY BAD BUSINESS PRACTICES WITH A DEMOCRATIC ELECTION, MISTER KOCH! THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! BILLS HAVE GONE UNPAID, ISSUES REMAIN UNADDRESSED, AND RESIDENTS ARE BEING IGNORED!”
The legal representative averted his eyes, to avoid appearing cocky or indifferent.
“Your Honor, I would humbly submit that things haven’t changed greatly at Evergreen Estates. A sober assessment of the situation would reveal that conditions at the development are much as they ever were...”
Sleeman pounded his gavel on the ceremonial desktop.
“ARE YOU TRYING TO MOCK THIS COURT? WE’VE HAD DOZENS AND DOZENS OF COMPLAINTS HERE, ABOUT EPA WATER VIOLATIONS, CRUMBLING STREETS, UNREPAIRED LIGHTS, UNSAFE PLAYGROUND EQUIPMENT, ABSENTEE SUPERVISION... A WHOLE HOST OF PROBLEMS! THERE HAVE BEEN ESCROW ACCOUNTS SET UP, LAWSUITS FILED, AND A RESIDENTIAL ASSOCIATION CREATED! DOES THAT MAKE YOU WANT TO CELEBRATE KNOWING THAT THINGS HAVEN’T CHANGED?”
Attorney Koch bowed his head, and grimaced. But did not withdraw his argument.
“Sir, this county and state voted enthusiastically to endorse the MAGA movement, and DOGE. It is a matter of public record now. If my employers in California want to emulate those procedures, which are being used as we speak, in Washington, then I would think that is logical and undertaken with sound reasoning...”
The circuit arbiter clenched his teeth and shook visibly, before answering. He hissed with the breathiness of a deflated balloon. He swung his gavel angrily enough that the benchtop split down its middle seam.
“Mr. Koch, you are hereby directed to bring me a report stating your efforts to address the numerous complaints against the village of mobile homes in Thompson Township. I will allow 30 days before taking formal action. My decree will also be shared with the Ohio Attorney General, in Columbus!”
The lawyer swooned on his wingtip shoes. He was stunned and stymied.
Judge Sleeman barked with finality, to end the proceeding.
“On this day, by my hand, let it be so ordered! I’ll wait 30 days for you, and not a minute more!”
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