On Dec. 13, 2001, the elected council of Metro, Portland's regional planning agency, was debating where to direct new growth--deciding, in essence, which parcels of land would eventually sprout condominiums and which would remain empty fields.
Just before voting, Metro Councilor Rod Monroe beckoned to Thane Tienson, a land-use lawyer sitting in the audience, and the two left the room--apparently to have a brief chat in Monroe's private chambers.
When Monroe returned, he voted in favor of a study whose focus would include land owned by Tienson's clients--in all likelihood ensuring that it would be first in line for development.
The very next day, records show, three lawyers in Tienson's firm contributed a total of $850 to Monroe's campaign for Metro president.
This anecdote is one of several going around Metro offices that raise awkward questions about Monroe's fundraising tactics. That's because Oregon law bans the use of public resources, such as an office, for campaigning.
"I do know for a fact that Rod has had those conversations in his office," says Larry Harvey, a lobbyist who represents a hotel industry association before Metro. Harvey says that Monroe summoned him several months ago "to ask me if my clients would support his candidacy."
In February, concern over Monroe's campaigning was so great at Metro that a lecture on ethics law was scheduled at a council retreat.
Monroe insists he did not solicit funds from Tienson before the December vote. "I am not campaigning out of my office," Monroe said. "Not on Metro property. I wouldn't do that."
But Monroe did confirm that in his office he asked Harvey why his client had chosen to give $1,000 to Monroe's rival for the Metro presidency, David Bragdon, before first hearing the case for Monroe's candidacy.
"I guess that is a campaign conversation of sorts," conceded Monroe. "But I did not ask Larry Harvey for any money at that meeting--because he told me that he'd already endorsed Bragdon and given him $1,000."
Bragdon has outraised Monroe, raking in $160,000 to Monroe's $43,000, according to the most recent campaign reports. Bragdon's base of supporters also appears more diverse than Monroe's, including numerous small contributors and people who do not have business before Metro.
To keep pace, Monroe's wife, Billie, chipped in $65,000, and TV ads touting Monroe began running last week.
Developers say Monroe is aggressively courting contributions. Monroe makes no apologies about making "specific commitments" to contributors. He says this is better than "my opponent, who just kind of mish-mashes things and talks around issues and doesn't commit to anything specific."
Indeed, Bragdon says he won't tell contributors how he plans to vote on their issues, saying, "My ethics don't permit me to do that."
This is not the first time Monroe's fundraising has raised eyebrows. One lobbyist, who spoke on condition of anonymity, told WW that Monroe asked him for a contribution several years ago--in the middle of a discussion about his client's agenda. "I almost felt like I was being shaken down," said the lobbyist.
In the fall of 1999, Monroe allowed developers to hold a fundraiser on his behalf shortly before a key vote that would allow new growth outside Beaverton.
Monroe, however, says he's been very careful not to cross the line of propriety, noting that he authored an ethics code at Metro in 1999.
"I believe in campaign-finance reform," he added, "But we have to play the game by the rules as they are."
WWeek 2015