Trustee Dan Peavy sounds angry. "...I think any way we can screw them is the best thing in the world, but the idea of going after the brother because they office in the same place....I don't think that is going to hold a lot of weight."
Kress later comes to Eichelbaum's defense. "...I think it is a good idea. I think crazy people who can keep being crazy will keep being crazy....I think putting them on the defensive, making them use their resources...bringing the brother in, you bet....Because these crazy people are not going to back off until the game changes...."
"...I'm for going out and getting Racehorse Haynes," Peavy chimes in. "That's how concerned I am about this thing...."
The group discusses the added bonus that a DISD lawsuit would discredit the attacks Finlan and Venable might make on the crucial bond program that was being submitted to Dallas voters.
"...Everybody knows we are about to go into a bond campaign," notes Kress. "...They are going to be attacking us big time between now and December 5...."
"I think if we sue now," says Eichelbaum, "then anything they come out with later, it's because we sued them. That's why they are making these comments in the press. That's why they are doing these things--it's because we sued them..."
Although no formal vote was taken, board president Rene Castilla tells Eichelbaum: "You have the consent of the board to proceed with your direction to file the lawsuit."
"All power to the people," chimes Kathlyn Gilliam. The others laugh.
After listening to the tape, Finlan felt vindicated. "It's like the old guy who goes around the street mumbling, 'It's all a big conspiracy' and then finally everyone else says, you know, that son of a bitch was right."
Finlan, of course, didn't keep the tape to himself. He made copies for any reporter who was willing to listen.
Judge Rhea was willing to listen as well. He also planned to listen to a second tape--the June 22, 1995 executive session, which Finlan and Venable claimed would reveal the board's further complicity.
But when the court ordered its in-camera inspection, the June 22 tape was mysteriously blank. Board secretary Robert Johnston told the judge he had mistakenly failed to push the right buttons when the meeting began.
Finlan and Venable hollered cover-up, insisted that the tape had been erased in Nixonesque fashion. The DISD board responded to the embarrassing disclosure of its closed-door remarks by voting last month to end the time-honored practice of recording executive sessions.
Finlan and Venable may yet have a judgment day in court. Their civil-rights case is set for trial in early 1996.
But even if they don't get a dime, Citizens Finlan and Venable have accomplished much in their relentless march to be heard. Although most of their litigation has a timeless quality--still pending after all these years--they have pried open the doors of local government, forced the school district to be more accountable to its taxpayers, trained the local media to become better government watchdogs, and rattled the cages of a city far too complacent for its own public good. Although their tactics are at times petty and Machiavellian, the body politic is more honest for the encounter.
If a jury does award them damages, Venable plans, oddly enough, to use the money to go to law school. He wants to do for others what he's done for himself. Finlan says he might give up the watchdog business for a while, "maybe buy a place and slice barbecue."
Of course, the irony doesn't escape them: their future may be bankrolled at taxpayers' expense.
