By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Eric Nicholson
The news coverage of Dallas' public hospital is always operatic. In a gleaming castle high above Stemmons Freeway, hundreds of Dr. Schweitzer clones in white coats practice noble healing arts on the poor. But the castle is under ceaseless attack from an army of right-wing Nazi meatballs screaming, "Die, poor people, die!"
The Nazi meatballs are always unfairly accusing the Drs. Schweitzer of wasting taxpayer money. All the Schweitzers want to do is "Heal, heal, we tell you!" At the end of every performance, Dr. Ron J. Anderson, president and CEO of Parkland Memorial Hospital, hurls himself from a parapet. Next morning, he's back at his desk without a scratch--a medical marvel.
I always figured it was true. It's not as if we lack for Nazi meatballs in this town. And Anderson, who has been head of Parkland for 22 years, is a forceful and eloquent champion of decent health care for the needy. I'm surprised he's not in jail.
But the caution for all of us--the suggestion that maybe there's more to Parkland than the opera--should have come at the beginning of this month when a majority of the Parkland Board of Management threw in the towel and resigned their positions, some of them publicly citing frustration with Anderson.
Let's put that in perspective. Parkland is an $850 million-a-year operation. That puts it almost in range with the Dallas Independent School District, which has a budget of about $1.1 billion. The city of Dallas is running a budget of about $1.9 billion, so Parkland is almost half as big as the city.
Hey. What would you think if a majority of the city council cleaned out their desks and went home one day because they couldn't get the city manager to listen to them? Wouldn't that be a cause for concern? I was concerned enough to call Cynthia Comparin, the board chair who resigned, to ask if I could come talk to her.
You may recall the very operatic scene that preceded her resignation--legions of the poor attempting to attend a meeting of the board at Parkland and being turned away at the castle gate. That scene was all over the TV news, where it was full of sound and fury and made absolutely no sense.
The legions of the poor were orchestrated by a couple of people I have known over the years and for whom I have great respect, the Reverend Peter Johnson and the Reverend Gerald Britt. They brought poor and working-class people to the Parkland board meeting to express worries about budget cuts at the hospital.
Comparin was stubborn and would not move her board meeting to a larger room so that the throng could be accommodated. Angry statements were made to the television cameras, pretty much accusing Comparin of being a Nazi dog. Within a week, she and her allies were gone from the board.
So that's why I called. To see if she was a Nazi dog. I was kind of hoping she would be, because that would reinforce my worldview.
Instead, when I was ushered into her office in a downtown tower, I discovered a chic young Hispanic woman, owner and CEO of a successful high-tech start-up company--really smart, thoughtful, with a generally conservative business-world outlook. She does not want the poor to die unhealed. She does think Parkland needs a more accountable manager than Anderson.
She laid out her issues plainly. The taxpayers of Dallas County provide more than one-third of Parkland's revenues through property taxes. Comparin thinks Anderson should have been more candid with voters over the years about how much of that money Parkland loses every year treating patients from other counties. According to the numbers she showed me, Parkland loses $33 million a year on patients who don't live in Dallas County.
"Collin County residents are $6 million of that $33 million," she said, "and they're the richest county in North Texas. I don't care if they're indigent, that county has a responsibility for them where they live. Why should the Dallas County taxpayers pay for them?
"And what's ironic about the thing is that the biggest absolute dollars we pay in that $33 million is for Tarrant County residents, and they have a public hospital."
Dr. Anderson has heard all of these charges a million times and has ready answers. On the particular issue of people from other counties who come to Parkland and don't pay, he said he has fought that battle from the courthouse to the statehouse steps for decades. He would like nothing more than a law forcing those other counties to pay Parkland for the bills their residents run up.
"I'm the guy who in 1982 sued several counties around and won," he said. "That led to us getting legislation passed, and then the legislation was sabotaged."
Big cities in Texas get raped on things like this because the Legislature is still rural-dominated, he said. Rural and suburban counties like Collin love getting away with sticking the big city. Anderson can't control that. The Legislature will not pass laws forcing rural and suburban counties to pay back urban counties for these losses according to any realistic or fair formula.
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