There's the civics class version of getting public records from local governments. Then there's real life.

Just ask Susan Gillen.

She's a Pleasant Grove veterinarian who rides horses at the county's Gibson Ranch Regional Park and for 18 years has been the on-call vet for the horse stables there. Like many members of Friends of Gibson Ranch, she's concerned by how run-down the park has become and for years has been suspicious exactly how concession fees were being spent on maintenance.

Gillen started her quest in August. She's not done yet.

"I'm all for transparency," she says, but "I have to admit I'm getting tired … This has just been frustrating."

Today starts "Sunshine Week," the annual effort led by the American Society of News Editors and civic groups such as the League of Women Voters to focus attention on the importance of open government and freedom of information.

On that score, the past year has been one of ups and downs in California.

Intrepid Los Angeles Times reporters used the state's Public Records Act to expose corruption in Bell, the Southern California city where officials paid themselves obscene salaries. Bell became a reminder of the importance of access to public records, as well as of what can go wrong in local government.

But more recently, because of budget cuts and furloughs, local officials have been slower to respond to public records requests, which were "never assigned a particularly high priority to begin with," says Peter Scheer, executive director of the First Amendment Coalition. Also, to offset costs, some counties are charging more for copies of documents, he says.

Terry Francke, general counsel of Californians Aware, another advocacy group, says he's worried about local agencies routinely erasing e-mails well before the two years they're required to keep them. These days "business gets done by e-mail," so they are essential to see the inner workings of government, he says.

The success of a public records request often depends on who's making it. Gillen's experience shows that patience and stubbornness are often needed. Appealing to higher-ups or elected officials doesn't hurt, either.

For local officials, it can be time-consuming and maddening to comply with such requests. But it's part of their duty as public servants.

Jill Ritzman, Sacramento County's deputy parks director, says her department tries to be as transparent as possible and deals swiftly with most information requests by phone or e-mail. Only rarely does the agency require an official request under the Public Records Act, she says.

Still, reading through the e-mail strings between Gillen and county officials, the frustration from both sides oozes out.

Gillen admits that officials probably think she is pestering, even harassing, them.

Ritzman says that Gillen is "one of the more persistent" public record requesters she's run across during her 20 years in the department. But she doesn't begrudge Gillen's right to the information, and she says "there wasn't anything unprofessional" in the way county staffers responded.

They weren't perfect, however.

In one flurry of e-mails on a Friday afternoon in August, a county staffer said that to provide detailed documents, Gillen would have to pay not only for photocopying, but also for the research and preparation time. Estimating that it would take at least five hours at the going rate of $7.50 for every 15 minutes, she asked for a deposit of $116.

After Gillen protested, pointing out that the public records law doesn't require citizens to pay such costs, higher-ups quashed that demand.

Ritzman explains the staffer was citing old administrative rules that don't apply to public record requests. To recoup some expenses, the department does require residents to buy paper copies of documents at $2 for the first page and 25 cents for each additional page.

Also, through Gillen's digging, county officials found some accounting discrepancies in the maintenance trust fund for the park's equestrian facilities. L&M Concession Management, which has run the horse operation, has paid fees into the fund ranging from $6,000 to $14,000 a year over the past decade.

Ritzman says no money was misspent.

From Gillen's perspective, she hasn't found any embezzlement but says the accounting lapses are troubling. She says her struggles to extract information leave the impression that county officials either don't want to provide it, or are hiding something.

"Everything is fed out little by little," says Gillen, who's still seeking detailed invoices of maintenance fund projects in some years.

So after her experience, what's her advice to others who want public records?

"Just keep being persistent. And just try to be nice."

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