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Two journalists drove hours to Warner, Oklahoma seeking records about a police chief who resigned after just eight months on the job. What they found was a masterclass in government evasion that escalated into something far more troubling.
Ron Duren and Sean Buckner from the Salisaw Transparency Page arrived at Warner City Hall during posted business hours for what should have been a routine records request. They wanted documents related to Shaloa Edwards, the former police chief whose sudden departure raised questions about his brief tenure.
The Morning Encounter That Changed Everything
The initial visit didn't go as planned. City employees, particularly water department worker Lori Moore, were "absolutely ridiculously rude for no reason," according to Duren. Moore refused to provide her name and became visibly agitated when cameras appeared. The hostility was so pronounced that Duren decided to return later with a live audience to document the behavior.
But when they came back, something extraordinary had happened.
The Mysterious Construction Project
A freshly printed sign now hung on the city hall door: "Lobby closed for construction beginning June at 2:30." The problem? No construction workers were anywhere to be found. No equipment. No vehicles. Nothing had changed since their morning visit except the sudden appearance of that sign.
The timing raised immediate suspicions. City employees had been present and functional hours earlier. Now, during posted business hours when they were legally required to process records requests, the building was conveniently inaccessible.
When Citizens Forced Accountability
After calling for a welfare check, police arrived to mediate the situation. Officer Ross confirmed that construction had been "voted on two months ago" but couldn't explain why the closure sign appeared only after the journalists' first visit. The disconnect between planned renovations and the suspicious timing of the closure became impossible to ignore.
The breakthrough came when concerned citizens intervened. After watching the livestream, local residents called city hall and demanded the employees come out to serve the public. Remarkably, this citizen pressure worked where official channels had failed.
What the Cameras Captured
When city clerk Alicia Smith finally emerged, the journalists were ready with an extensive records request. They sought personnel files, email correspondence, meeting minutes, and even browser histories from city computers. The scope expanded in real time as Smith continued to refuse access to basic public records like meeting minutes.
The most revealing moment came when Smith claimed she couldn't provide meeting minutes from recent city council sessions without a formal waiting period. These are documents that should be immediately available for public inspection under Oklahoma's Open Records Act.
But the story behind their visit suggests something much larger at play.
The Pattern That Keeps Growing
Edwards' journey through Oklahoma law enforcement reads like a case study in how problematic officers move between departments. After admitting to financial misconduct as Sallisaw police chief in 2014-2015, he quietly resigned without formal reporting to state oversight. He then worked five years in Boshie before arriving in Warner for his brief eight-month stint.
The pattern mirrors other cases the journalists have been investigating across eastern Oklahoma, part of what they describe as a massive corruption story that keeps expanding. Every time they think they've reached the end, new connections and jurisdictions emerge.
The livestream cut off before revealing whether Warner ultimately provided the requested records, leaving viewers to wonder what other secrets might be hidden behind those hastily locked doors.
