BY KAREN SAMPLES
The Cincinnati Enquirer
COVINGTON -- In his shorts, Windbreaker and sneakers, Steve Hoffman doesn't look like a guy who can perform weddings on the spot. This is especially true when he's doing his other job: Taking money at a parking lot near the courthouse.
"I thought he was kidding," says Carl Colombini, who pulled into the lot last week asking directions to the justice of the peace. "Well, hey, that's me!" the justice said.
Mr. Colombini and his new wife, Patricia, are from Columbus. They don't know how we do things around here.
Which isn't to say they don't like how we do things. In fact, both were sporting goofy grins after Thursday's ceremony, held in Mr. Hoffman's office across from the parking area.
There were a few interruptions, to be sure. While the Colombinis filled out paperwork, for instance, somebody stopped by with a request for the justice -- something about getting his vehicle out of the lot. And Mr. Hoffman did have to make a last-minute adjustment to one of his crepe-paper wedding bells, which was drooping.
"That's neat," Mr. Colombini said later, as a sort of general commentary on the whole affair. "I like spontaneous stuff like that. That was really great."
Well, Mr. Colombini, you've got Kentucky's Constitution and related statutes to thank. Besides providing for justices of the peace, they set Kentucky apart as a place where some things take a long time to change. We're the only state in the country whose constitution still requires an office called "jailer."
In most other states, the sheriff runs the local jail and is required to have some training in police work.
Not so in Kentucky. Although police training is available, it's not mandatory for sheriffs, and their biggest job is not running jails but collecting millions in property taxes.
Our jailers, of course, are elected separately from other county officials, who approve jail budgets but have little say in how they're run.
This has become a problem in Kenton County, where an elderly diabetic man died naked and alone in his cell this summer. County officials are now urging Jailer Don Younger to accept some professional assistance, but he says he knows what he's doing.
Meanwhile, they've all been sued by the dead man's family.
Another oddity is our voter's oath. Show up at the polls without ID and you may be asked to sign this document, which certifies you're not "an idiot or an insane person." Thank goodness this prohibition isn't enforced. Voter turnouts are low enough as it is.
Then there are all the tough choices our Constitution forces us to make. For instance, it requires every county to elect constables, who are peace officers with the power to arrest us.
At one time, constables functioned as paper servers and security officers for county court systems. In 1978, however, these courts were mercifully replaced with a more modern judiciary. Now it's tough enough figuring out what a constable is, exactly, much less deciding who should be one.
I checked around. Turns out constables can charge fees for "killing a mad dog" and "taking up a vagrant," among other activities. Dogs are worth $1, vagrants 50 cents.
"I would like to see it changed, because it makes the office look foolish," says Joe Mueller Sr., one of Northern Kentucky's few active constables. Since the early '80s, he has served court papers for lawyers, backed up Covington police on calls and helped out with traffic control.
Basic training
Which brings us to the subject of change. Every year, it seems, somebody gets the bright idea that Kentucky needs some.
This year, folks are saying the county surveyor, who doesn't get a salary, ought to at least know how to do a survey.
In Kenton County, the Republicans even had a primary to select an opponent for Jimmy Williams, the current officeholder. Mr. Williams, who is fond of outlandish hats and notes that he has a mild mental disability, has never done a survey in his life. His challenger, professional engineer James Shumate, touts his ability to settle boundary disputes and the like.
In truth, most counties stopped needing surveyors years ago, when their territory was mapped out. Still, Kentuckians haven't seen fit to strike the requirement from the Constitution.
In 1992, we did finally agree that governors ought to be able to succeed themselves; until this point, Kentucky and Virginia were the only states still forbidding second terms.
We also got rid of the superintendent of public instruction -- a statewide elected office that hurt the cause of education more than it helped. That same year, though, voters decided against eliminating the Railroad Commission.
So there's another gem that causes much head-scratching on Election Day. "What the heck does the Railroad Commission do?" we ask ourselves, as we pick some stranger to be on it.
Oh, well. Plenty of other offices are important, so it's best we all head to the polls in November.
Even the idiots.
Karen Samples is The Enquirer's Kentucky columnist. Her column appears on Sundays and Thursdays in The Kentucky Enquirer. She can be reached at 578-5584 or email
her at ksamples@enquirer.com
SAMPLES ARCHIVE
