The 15-Cent Street Signs That Became a Graft Scandal
A councilman nicknamed 'Boss' hands out a street-sign contract on his own authority, and the town asks why it is buying throwaway tin markers instead of signs that last — at the people's expense.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
A rumpus is being made about the expenditure of money for the street signs, and the action of Boss Sickels in having them made. At a recent meeting of the council, it was announced that 'I' (Boss Sickels) had let a contract for street corners at 15 cents apiece, which action of the boss was approved.
Now, the records of the city fail to show that Boss Sickels was ever authorized to make any such contract, and that it was done without bringing the matter to the attention of the council. Street signs are essential by all means, but the present ones are made of japanned tin, and are stuck promiscuously on fences, houses and poles, so that small boys have a splendid opportunity to destroy them, and in a few months new signs will be needed. On exhibition in the council chamber is a sign of cast iron, with raised letters painted white, which the manufacturer offers to supply the city at 28 cents apiece — more expensive, to be sure, but not in the long run, for they will last forever. When will Boss Sickels stop throwing away the people's money?
“When will Boss Sickels stop throwing away the people's money?”
The sums are trivial now, but the pattern is instantly recognizable: an official cutting a side deal without authorization, then choosing the cheapest disposable option over a durable one, and leaving the public to pay twice. Small procurement fights like these are where trust in city hall is won or lost — and where 'boss' politics earned its name in 1890s Olympia.
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