REGISTER VIEWPOINT: Is this all there is to Nuesse case?

A nebulous, verbal complaint by "the entire department" -- one that's denied, and in some cases refuted, by anyone who cares to put
Sandusky Register Staff
May 24, 2010

 

A nebulous, verbal complaint by "the entire department" -- one that's denied, and in some cases refuted, by anyone who cares to put his or her name to an opinion.

A public plea by the hired investigator for anyone with dirt -- any dirt -- on the chief to come forward.

And finally, the last annual report of the Sandusky Police Department, showing arrests up, efficiency up, anything that makes a good police force a good police force -- up.

If that's the case against police Chief Kim Nuesse, we can't wait to see what a good evaluation looks like.

She came on board about a year and a half ago and ruffled feathers, stepped on the toes of a few comfortable brogans, stirred some behinds out of the chairs into which they'd grown to fit. Naturally some people are mad at her.

She also put a human and professional face on our police force and, by all accounts, studied hard to learn her new community.

She has some baggage, too. Everyone does. A problem in her marriage gave ammunition to those looking for dirt on her. She powered through that.

An otherwise-glowing appraisal of her by a former colleague, now a police chief himself, noted she can be a little too trusting of other people who might have their own agendas.

No doubt those who looked with jaundiced eye her attempts to work with Perkins Police Chief Tim McClung chortled a bit at that line, but the fact is, that sort of trust is red meat north of the double yellow line as well as south of it.

Some wags have compared what she's been put through to the Spanish Inquisition -- specifically, the Monty Python version.

Certainly it looks like that kind of farce.

But -- speaking of agendas -- the real Spanish Inquisition, the one without Cardinal Fang and the Comfy Chair, but with Torquemada, is a fitting metaphor. For all its talk about enforcing religious purity, Tomas de Torquemada's little party was about this: I don't like you, and you have something I want. Either you confess and you lose, or I kill you and I win.

Chief Nuesse has what the power players on Meigs Street haven't had in a long time: success and respect.

And, just like the inquisitors of old and too damn many people today, they'd rather not build it on their own, but destroy those who have it.

Give Chief Nuesse back her badge and her gun. Don't be surprised if she tells you what to do with them.