Civic Beat · July 22, 2026 · by J. Korbes
Eight Signatures to Spare
The arithmetic of Tuesday's Council meeting deserves a museum case. George Kramer submitted what he believed were 1,537 signatures for his charter amendment requiring voter approval of new utility-bill fees. The city recorder, it emerged, had originally counted sheets rather than signatures. A recount found 1,316 — eight more than the 1,308 required. The county could not verify any of them "due to the legal compliance issue," a form defect never fully specified aloud, and the recorder volunteered that comparable petitions run 13 to 15 percent rejection rates, which would sink this one by more than a hundred names. On that foundation — a petition that qualified by eight signatures nobody can lawfully verify — the Council voted 5-1 to send the measure to the ballot. With changes.
Amending the People's Words
The changes are the story. The Council's motion directs staff to bring back a resolution placing the measure on the November ballot with inflationary increases allowed up to CPI and franchise fees excluded — modifications the chief petitioner explicitly opposed, from the podium, after the Council suspended its rules to give him ten minutes: "The language that we agreed to is what people said they wanted to vote on... it is disrespectful to the citizen process... I bumped into most of you holding a clipboard."
Reasonable people can hold both truths here, and this paper does. Kramer's raw text sweeps in fees the city merely passes through, and fixing a charter amendment after passage requires another election; the Council's edits are substantively sane. And also: a petition is the one instrument of local democracy drafted entirely outside this building, and the building edited it. Councilor Bloom, moving the amended version while promising to campaign against the measure itself — a two-step now familiar from the previous resolution referral — offered: "I look forward to going toe to toe with Mr. Kramer on this and knocking on doors if I have to." Councilor Hansen cast the lone no with the speech of the night: "60% of the Ashland voters voted for me. And I carry a responsibility for 21,000 people... I do not trust that if we have ballot initiatives, that there will be clear communication... I wish the democratic process the best of luck." Councilor DuQuenne, voting a grudging "Sure. Yeah.": "I'm kind of disappointed that it's not moving forward as is."
The same evening, the mayor's own answer to the fee grievance — an ordinance requiring months of public process before any new utility-bill fee — got its first discussion. Her candid description of the status quo is the best argument for either remedy: "the council could get a packet with a proposed fee increase on Thursday and vote it in on Tuesday. And what this is doing is saying you don't get to do that." Kramer supported the concept and filed the timing under irony: "if you had had something like that in place a year ago, I wouldn't be on your agenda later tonight."
The Ordinance Worth the Wait
The night's constructive achievement: Ordinance 3306, the manufactured home park tenant protections, returned from legal review leaner and harder — eight sections down to four, a 60-day tenant response window, mandatory financial disclosure, up to 120 days to organize a resident purchase, and violations charged per household. The state baseline it quadruples: fifteen days. Legal found "no language expressly prohibiting local requirements that exceed the state baseline," and Ashland proceeds "relatively unique." The realtors asked for a 1031-exchange carve-out and were answered with a timeline; Dolores Nims of Wingspread answered everything else: "We have been working on this ordinance for over two years... please don't reduce the 120 days... we're going to invite you all over for a celebration and a party when it's done." Passed 6-0. Councilor Sherell, to the residents: "Don't wait for the property to hit the market... buy the park. That would be the party that I want to come to."
The Unanswered File
Now the ledger of things said to the Council on Tuesday that the Council, by rule and by choice, did not answer. Paul Mina alleged that the city's ambulance-service deficit — the stated justification for a fee — is contradicted by the city's own March study session showing the program netting over a million dollars, that his records request went unanswered, and that "it was not an honest presentation." The police annual report was noted as delayed "because of more pressing business," twice. A night-lawn contractor reported police overruled staff during the June heat event and forced tents down, leaving him "helping somebody set up their tent" at 92 degrees. A newly homeless man described walking "12 to 14 hours a day in order to meet my needs." Each received the statutory thank-you. The public-process ordinance under discussion that same night contains, as Mr. Mina observed, no requirement that anyone respond to public comment. It shows.
Also in the record: the city manager proposed consolidating finance, IT, and HR under one internal services director — the city has "never been competitive for finance directors," and the new hire is "effectively the CFO" — an operational restructuring in a fiscally "precarious" city (DuQuenne's word) that received discussion but no vote, because none was required. The 1,900-acre Madrone Ridge acquisition plan advanced 5-1, Hansen calling it "one of those legacy projects. Like we're not making any more land," DuQuenne dissenting with the counter-legacy position: "most fires are started by people. So we put a lot of people up there. Good luck with that."
Adjournment: 9:29 p.m., one minute under the wire, the city manager's report sacrificed again — "we have consistently missed having city manager reports," the mayor noted, moving it earlier on future agendas. Eight signatures, ten minutes, one edited petition. November will tally the rest.
Sourced from machine-generated closed captions of the July 21, 2026 Ashland City Council business meeting. Quotations appear as transcribed; the caption software recycles speaker labels, so names are attached only where the chair's own words or self-identification confirm the speaker. Allegations made in public testimony are reported as testimony. Figures are as stated in open session.