Supervisor Ray Carroll Holds True To His Promise To Oppose A Half-Cent Sales Tax.
By Chris Limberis
AS A ROOKIE politician, he managed to uphold a key campaign
promise. But after he killed a proposed half-cent sales tax for
Pima County, did everyone love Raymond?
Probably not.
Raymond Carroll had just won his eastside and Green Valley District
4 seat on the Board of Supervisors two months earlier, in a crushing
defeat of Brenda Even and Ken Marcus in the Republican primary.
His general election victory over Libertarian Gay Lynn Goetzke
was anticlimactic.
Ray won with the help of some influential people, including Sheriff
Clarence Dupnik, a Democrat who's held the office with dignity
for 18 years.
Now it was Dupnik and the county's much more feared other top
cop, County Attorney Barbara LaWall, pressing the Board of Supervisors
to hit consumers with a half-cent sales tax that would raise $48
million a year to start.
Nowhere to turn on the Board, either. Carroll's Republican colleague,
Chairman Mike Boyd, was happy to join Democrats Sharon Bronson,
Dan Eckstrom and Raul Grijalva in full support of half-cent sales
tax.
Then there was cheerleading from the daily newspapers, whose
editorials encouraged Carroll to levy the tax. The chorus also
included Michael Brown, the lame-duck, high-spending presiding
judge of the Pima County Superior Court.
But Carroll said no last week to a tax that could have slapped
consumers without an election. All that was necessary for this
general half-cent sales tax, unlike previous sales-tax proposals
that have been slaughtered by voters three times since 1986, was
a unanimous vote from the Board of Supervisors.
Pressure was intense. And it will not subside. Despite a rosy
economy and steady growth, Pima County is in trouble. Bills for
the big bond projects that voters indulged last year are coming
due beginning next year.
Still, Carroll's vote was not that difficult to make. His closest
advisers, as well as those on the other side of the aisle, all
told him that a "yes" vote would be political suicide
given his steady pronouncements throughout his campaign against
Even and Marcus.
And Carroll picked up some defense from an unlikely source, Mary
Schuh, a county watchdog and president of the Pima Association
of Taxpayers.
Schuh exposed the county's hollow promise to use part of the
revenues from the sales tax to buy down property taxes. That was
the plan in 1990, when the county scored a trifecta at the state
Legislature: permission for a general half-cent sales tax, renewed
authority to ask voters for a half-cent sales tax for roads, and
permission to ask voters for quarter-cent sales tax for jails.
"You are going to lower my property tax, but ah, there's
a caveat," Schuh told supervisors in what amounted to a typical
blistering from the grandmother, writer and commentator. "You
may still not. Maybe yes. The next board doesn't have to adhere
to this. It (property taxes) will be raised again."
Then Schuh took after the dailies and others who had been encouraging
Carroll, not exactly one of her sweethearts, to violate his campaign
pledge.
"How dare the media and other make a mockery of a person's
promise, their ethical behavior, and their identity and ask someone
to break their word to their particular constituents and go back
on a promise," Schuh said.
IF CARROLL HAD put himself in a box, it certainly had plenty
of holes. Some of the bullets:
Sales taxes are not popular in Pima County. Voters have
tried to explain this. The three sales-tax proposals in 1986 and
1990 for roads and in 1994 for jails and the Juvenile Center failed
this way: 57-43; 61-39; and 70 (that's seventy) to 30.
Carroll wiggled in the weeks before the hearings, saying he wanted
the public to vote on this tax as well. But that option was not
included in the state law and the county would have to lobby lawmakers
for permission to put it on the ballot.
County officials lost their focus on the property tax
buy-down, trimming it to $18 million for a 54-cent reduction of
the property tax rate by basically eliminating the Library District
tax of 22 cents and the Flood Control District tax of 32 cents.
Those are per $100 of property's valuation. So for the owner of
a $100,000 home, the savings would have been $54 a year. The sales
tax, depending on spending, age and family members at home, could
have offset that. It should be noted that supervisors have raised
property taxes by 12 cents per $100 in the last two years. Boyd
made it known that he opposed both increases while voting for
four straight tax decreases before that. But his tax cuts came
at the expense of county services and also drained the county
of its once stable, $20 million reserve fund. Carroll voted against
the property tax increases only once.
The need to diversify county revenue--the county relies
too heavily on its property tax, which is the highest in the state--is
especially vital for the burgeoning needs in criminal justice.
But these needs were sideswiped by two peculiar--and nearly shameful--hits.
First, the City of Tucson, which derives the bulk of its revenue
from its 2 percent sales tax, suddenly and completely out of the
blue released a plan to ask voters to jack up its sales tax. Secondly,
arts groups lined up uninvited to demand at least half of the
sales-tax revenue from the county.
The arts crowd, officially called the Heritage, Science and Culture
Coalition for Pima County, included rivals for Carroll's plan
to have a Smithsonian Institution affiliate--a Western Museum
at the Canoa Ranch. Members filled the center rows at the hearing.
When they spoke, Dupnik's hopes for money for new deputies, new
jail officers and other necessities evaporated. Just as important
in the fight against crime (particularly juvenile crime), supervisors
were told, was a proposed Sonoran Sea Aquarium.
It didn't play. Not in Carroll's Green Valley or Wilshire Heights.
Not in Flowing Wells across town.
"These people are all well-heeled and yet they want to take
our grocery money for museums," Joyce Oldfather said during
a break. "They have no shame. They should raise the money
they want from their friends."
Oldfather got in Grijalva's face, asking: "Do you always
take money from the poor to give it to the rich?"
Slightly bemused, Grijalva replied: "No, not always."
Grijalva, whose District 5 includes low-income south and west
sides as well as affluent Sam Hughes, University of Arizona area
and Tucson Mountains, insisted the arts-museum coalition did not
create the defeat.
They sure made Carroll's job easier.
The sales tax has put some elected officials, such as LaWall,
a Democrat and career prosecutor who is nearing the middle of
her first term, in odd positions. She can seek re-election in
2000 as a Pima County politician who sought a sales tax.
Though thoroughly frustrated, Dupnik was cool. He illustrated
the differences that separate him from the media hound up north,
Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio.
Pima County inmates, Dupnik said, don't have pink underwear because
Dupnik, unlike Sheriff Joe, doesn't hand out underwear. Nor does
he make a big deal out of feeding colored bologna to prisoners.
And he doesn't chain up work crews for the television cameras.
Maybe he should. Maricopa County voters gave Arpaio a quarter-cent
sales tax to build more jails.
Carroll, who left for Chicago the day after the vote to visit
with his ill father, now will face threats that District 4 bond
projects will be delayed. He insists the county must cut its spending.
He'll need to produces those cuts when budget hearings begin next
June.
County Administrator Chuck Huckelberry said after the vote that
county property tax growth--new and increased assessments--could
accommodate most of the $8 million needed for the opening of the
new Juvenile Center next year. But the following year--an election
year--the county will need to boost property taxes by five percent.
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