Turf War
The Sentinel feud isn't the only notable one Hutchison has waged in his 12 years in office. Although he worked on the Metro Auto Theft Division with the Knoxville Police Department, the cooperative spirit ended soon after he took office.
One of the first things Hutchison did after becoming sheriff was to form a county narcotics unit separate from the Metro Narcotics Unit, which was operated jointly by the KPD and Sheriff's Department. Hutchison argued that the Metro Unit wasn't spending enough time investigating crimes outside the city. The sheriff also said that Police Chief Phil Keith refused to share control of the unit and the money seized in raids with the sheriff's office. In 1996, however, Hutchison complained to Keith about KPD officers investigating crimes outside the city.
The sheriff's office continued to participate in the Metro Unit until the city grudgingly disbanded it in 1997. All the while, both agencies pointed fingers, arguing about which one was contributing more and which was reaping the benefits.
Keith and other high-ranking KPD officers wouldn't comment on the relationship. "The sheriff's involved in a heated race. This probably wouldn't be the best time to talk about it," KPD spokesman Darryl DeBusk says.
But the KPD—which has had its own image problems over the past decade—has certainly made itself a political enemy of the sheriff. Rudy Bradley of the KPD ran with the support of many city officers and administrators against Hutchison in the bitter campaign of '94. Similarly, Hutchison's primary opponent last month, J.J. Jones, was a former Hutchison deputy who now works for the KPD.
The relationship remains contentious. In 1998, a volunteer group called Working Together formed to try to improve the relationship between the agencies. The group compiled a list of problems and concerns to address, which it then narrowed to 18 specific issues.
An interagency agreement addressing those problems was drawn up in 2000. Lawyers from the city and county were to meet to finalize the agreement, but they have yet to do so. Last October, Woody Troy, chairman of the committee, met informally with Hutchison. He asked the sheriff if he'd help facilitate a meeting between the lawyers, and asked about possibly bringing in a professional negotiator. Although Hutchison was cordial, Troy says the sheriff would not agree to use a negotiator.
Troy says his concern is not with the people involved, since they will eventually change. But, he's worried about how the bad relationship could affect law enforcement and safety. He points to an incident in Georgia, where two deputies were accidentally killed because two agencies were feuding.
Although unwilling to point fingers, Troy says that the KPD has been more cooperative. "The Knoxville Police Department is very cooperative. At the beginning, the Sheriff's Department was very cooperative, then it sort of fizzled out," Troy says. "Why it's fizzled I can't really tell you."
Hutchison says he did cooperate with Working Together. He says there were concerns that the Sheriff's Department was being asked to give up powers it is constitutionally required to have.
"We sent [proposed revisions] to [the city's] law director, and we never would hear from them, and then they turn around and blame it on us," Hutchison says.
Hutchison says more has been made out of the feud with the KPD than there really is. "For the most part, we do get along. We assist them in any way we can—at no cost. We're different governments, and different governments differ at times."
But when it comes to fighting crime, the two agencies often act more like rivals than allies. One example was the Ramsey's Cafeteria murder case last July. Sheriff's investigators found evidence during a search of the Tennessee River that led to the arrest of two suspects. KPD investigators who were investigating the crime said they had no idea the Sheriff's Department was also working on it.
Asked whether his department shares information with the KPD about investigations, Hutchison says sometimes they do, sometimes they don't. "We solve their crimes and sometimes they don't like it," he says. "If we're investigating one of their employees, we don't tell them about it."
What does Hutchison think of the KPD's investigative skills? "No comment."
Lawyers, Drugs, and Money
Asked what he thinks his greatest accomplishments are as sheriff, Hutchison immediately points to the facilities he's built for the department. Before he was sheriff, the department had to use other agencies' training grounds and firing ranges. "We were at everyone else's mercy. It made it really hard to train," he says.
Cadets were sent to the state's training facility in Donelson. "We could only get about four slots at a time," he says. "Now we have our own facilities paid for out of the drug funds."
But it's the use of those drug funds that has caused the most controversy for Hutchison. In 1995 and 1996, he used more than $100,000 in drug seizure money to build a firing range and training facility in East Knox County, without informing County Commission or local residents. When residents complained about noise and safety, several commissioners grilled the sheriff about it.
The county's auditor found the use of the money was improper and recommended it be paid back to the drug fund out of the general fund, and the state's comptroller agreed. However, the sheriff refused to do so, insisting he followed the law.
In 1997, partly in response to the concerns about Hutchison, the state Legislature amended its drug-fund procedures in a number of ways. While drug money was previously maintained by the Sheriff's Department, now it was required to be put in a special-revenue fund in the county finance or treasury office. County Commission is required to approve a budget for the use of the funds each year. But confidential payments for drug buys aren't specified and can be withdrawn at any time by the Sheriff's Department.
Currently, the Sheriff's Department has more than $166,000 in this drug fund. The county's finance director, Kathy Hamilton, says that there may be more money still kept at the Sheriff's Department, left over from before the law change. She doesn't know how much might be there.
The law also more clearly defined how the money can be used. It expanded the use to allow for short-term contracts and one-time capital expenditures. However, Hamilton says expenses over $50,000 (excepting those made for confidential investigations) still require approval of County Commission and must be made by competitive bid. And any non-confidential purchases are supposed to go through the county's purchasing department.
For the past several years, there's been a running dispute between the Sheriff's Department and the county's auditors over whether the money is being handled properly. Auditors have also noted that capital expenditures were being made out of the old drug fund money, which is now only supposed to be used for confidential investigations.
The sheriff insists that "all the money has been accounted for."
Bank records obtained by Commissioner Wanda Moody in a lawsuit against the sheriff (prompted by his role in the now-shelved Justice Center project), show that money has been spent from confidential drug funds on a number of non-confidential expenditures. These accounts show that between June 1997 and December 2001, the department paid out around $879,000 for what appear to be mainly expenditures related to the department's helicopters and other contracts.
Of the more than $1.7 million spent out of these funds, $656,000 went to cash (for drug investigations, according to the Sheriff's Department), $298,000 was spent on helicopters, $163,000 on phones and pagers, $156,000 on unknown, $140,000 on contract services, $121,000 on miscellaneous, $82,000 on dogs, $45,000 on travel, $44,000 on training, and $4,000 on labor, among many other smaller categories.
Under helicopter maintenance and expenses, some $142,000 was paid to Manuel Hermosillo for helicopter maintenance between July 1997 and December 2001. But since these transactions didn't go through the county's finance department, it's unclear whether the sheriff made appropriate IRS deductions for the labor.
County Commissioner Mike Arms says that although the use of these funds has made for some controversial stories, he doesn't think it matters much to voters.
"I know sometimes Tim has been controversial," Arms says. "At times he's even pushed the envelope. But I've got to rely on my district, the 5th. What they really want to see in law enforcement is patrol cars in neighborhoods and keeping the crime rate down. And when you have violent crime, solving it.
"I really think the firing range is probably 40 miles from these people; it just doesn't get on the radar with them."
Political Sway
In the world of politics, there's not much difference between power and perception. If you can make people think you have power, you will have it.
Sheriff Hutchison is generally believed to be one of the two most powerful politicians in Knox County (with Ashe as the other). His foes paint Hutchison as a control freak who manipulates people with a combination of carrots, sticks and stubbornness. In turn, he paints those foes in exactly the same shades, all the while denying that he has much influence over other office-holders.
Asked about his influence on other election campaigns and with the County Commission, Hutchison acts surprised. "I've never in a Republican primary supported one or the other candidate. The only thing I've ever lobbied the Commission for is for the good of the department."
Although his support may not be overt, he's generally acknowledged to have had a big impact on county politics—both helping getting several candidates elected and influencing County Commission in his favor.
In his current race, he enjoys the support of County Executive-elect Mike Ragsdale, who has long been close to Hutchison. (Ragsdale works for the architectural firm Barber & McMurry, which worked closely with the sheriff in drawing up the Justice Center plans.) Perhaps Hutchison's biggest strength, at least until the past few years, was the impression that he could not be beaten.
The sheriff won a string of big political victories in the mid- to late-'90s, which all added to a growing aura of invincibility. After the fiercely fought 1994 election, he helped defeat the city-county unification referendum in 1996. Two years later, he threw his support behind Cathy Quist, who beat Lillian Bean's "Bean Machine" to become Circuit Court clerk.
That Hutchison so often ends up opposing Mayor Ashe has as much to do with geography and political power bases as it does with personalities. Hutchison is seen as speaking for the suburban and rural communities outside the city, whose interests have often been at odds with the urban Republican power structure.
Mary Lou Horner, a county commissioner and Hutchison ally, says the scandals that have plagued Hutchison's career are the work of those trying to discredit him.
"It's obvious the mayor has a problem with the sheriff, so of course the problem would roll over to the chief of police who serves at the pleasure of the mayor," Horner says. "The chief of police is doing exactly what the mayor wants him to do. But that's just Victor. Victor just likes to be in charge of everything."
There are many who see the same character flaw in Hutchison, but Horner denies that he's abusive with his power.
"The sheriff has never picked up the telephone and asked me to vote for something, nor has he asked me in person," Horner says. "What he does is bring it to us either in committee or at the full Commission. If there are any questions, he presents whatever he needs. I can't speak for the other commissioners. But I don't think he goes and lobbies the commissioners."
Of course, Hutchison hasn't gone unchallenged on Commission. His biggest nemesis there, Commissioner Wanda Moody, has four lawsuits pending against him.
One suit challenges the sheriff's authority to be in charge of the Justice Center. The second challenges his ability to use drug funds for construction projects. Two other lawsuits involve access to Sheriff's Department records.
Moody says her lawsuits are not political tactics, but an attempt to have accountability over public money, property and resources. "I just believe we need proper accountability. And I think we need to have fairness," she says. "[Commission] will give [Hutchison] special treatment and won't give schools the same treatment. And I don't think that's right."
Most observers agree that in 1999, Hutchison over-extended his influence in county politics and was forced to retreat.
County Commission was unhappy with the way the Public Building Authority was handling the Justice Center project. So it transferred control of the project to Hutchison, who promoted himself as a cost-cutter and experienced general contractor.
But the $90 million project had many critics—most notably, District Attorney General Randy Nichols—who questioned its necessity, cost, location, management and lack of public input. Others questioned the legality of letting the sheriff manage a public building project—which was dubbed the "Taj Mah Tim" for its perceived extravagance (including a helicopter pad). With public opinion turning on him, Hutchison resigned from the project and retreated from the spotlight.
Today, the sheriff is defensive about the perception that the Justice Center was his building, noting that several courts and other offices would have been included. He maintains that a new jail is badly needed, but he's nonchalant about the Commission's decision to wait.
"I never once recommended a Justice Center or a location. I said I don't care if it's on a barge on the river, we just need a place to lock 'em up. We've been overcrowded this year. "When we get overcrowded, they just dump 'em out on the streets.
"The number of people arrested has gone up in the past two years. Something's going to have to be done. They can't keep letting them out on the streets. I keep [Commission] notified of problems we have. It's up to them to do something about it."
But monthly reports from the Tennessee Department of Corrections show that only one of the county's three jail facilities runs close to capacity. The downtown jail—which has 215 beds—was almost always at 90 percent capacity or more in the past year. The county Detention Center, which has 676 beds, has been about 70 to 80 percent full in the past year, and the Knox County Penal Farm, with 188 beds, ranges from 20 to 30 percent full each month. In fact, of the seven counties in Tennessee with more than one jail facility, Knox generally runs at the lowest percent of total capacity.
In the past couple of years, except when a bad guy has been nabbed, Hutchison has shied away from any publicity. How much the Justice Center project drained Hutchison's power won't be known until August.
Who Is He?
It's election year, and once again some people are speculating that Hutchison's moment may be nearing an end. Hutchison can be beat this year, his critics gleefully predict.
The primary election last month against J.J. Jones wasn't very close, but it showed signs of Hutchison's potential vulnerability. "It was a comfortable win, but it certainly wasn't a landslide," says UT political science professor Bill Lyons. "It showed a substantial constituency who was questioning the way the sheriff's office has been run."
Jim Andrews, the Democrat who will face Hutchison in the August general election, saw a bigger sign for hope. If you add up Andrews' primary votes with those of Jones, you get 16,925—a narrow victory over Hutchison's 16,311. Jones has since endorsed Andrews.
"I think over half the votes cast for sheriff were for someone other than Hutchison for sheriff," Andrews says. "Those Jimmy Jones votes I don't think are available to Hutchison in August."
Lyons isn't so sure. He says it's only natural for Hutchison to have accumulated some "negatives" in his 12 years in office. "When you've been in office as long as he has, there begin to be points of criticism," Lyons says. "You're going to build up some negatives. The strongest thing he has going for him is there hasn't been any criticism of delivery of law enforcement and crime solving."
"I would not underestimate Tim's power out there," he adds.
One of Hutchison's critics, James Dunn, sits in his West Knoxville apartment and dreams of Hutchison's fall. He predicts that the sheriff will one day get his just desserts. Dunn also believes he'll get his own redemption, as he presses his lawsuit with the Sheriff's Department to get his job back.
"If [Hutchison] is not defeated, he will probably remain in the Sheriff's Department until he goes to federal prison," Dunn says. "Tim Hutchison is of the mindset that he cannot be touched and that he can do anything to anybody without any repercussions. And that, ultimately, will be his downfall."
Most likely, Hutchison will remain elusive and mysterious. When voters step into the polling booths this August, who they vote for will depend on what they see in that face that so often speaks to us on the evening news, assuring us that the bad men of the world have been caught or will be soon.
Do you see a shifty-eyed megalomaniac who punishes any who would challenge him and uses his power for his own gain? Or do you see a charming, confident hometown boy, fighting to keep Knox County safe despite the dirty politicians who malign him?
Who he actually is may not even matter—at least, not as much as who people think he is.
June 13, 2002 * Vol. 12, No. 24
© 2002 Metro Pulse
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