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| An example of the ways I worked to promote the pro-life position in this country. At the time I managed the media operations of the Southern Baptist ethics agency that had the pro-life assignment. Having our son, whose mother was an adopted individual, in the photo was meaningful. |
He went on to explain the option of declaring the structure a house of worship instead of taking the current route that the Garland plan commission had proposed of a limited PD (planned development district).
Shocked, Kay turned from the sink to clarify. She asked Cole whether he was, in fact, saying that Deborah had originated this plan.
Yes, indeed, he affirmed. Of course, he then acknowledged, he had quickly taken the ball and run with this germ of an idea.
Kay and I had been waiting on the edges of our seats, because we knew that morning, Cole and his wife, Raven, had been having a big pow-wow with an assortment of city officials, including representatives of the city attorney's office, the plan office, and Councilmember Morris, about the Hensons' zoning application. The meeting was to discuss the plan commission's decision directing that the Hensons' change of zoning request be to that of a PD (planned development district) so they could begin their Shiloh Pregnancy Care Center in one of Garland's oldest homes—the dwelling at 920 West Avenue D.
We had believed that Cole would return from the meeting and delineate how the plan office and assistant city attorney would craft the PD to enable them to operate the Shiloh Pregnancy Care at the home with numerous restrictions. We thought those restrictions would make the proposal more palatable to the surrounding neighbors that had balked at it initially.
Instead his remarks about the Hensons taking the option of declaring the home a church had left me puzzled, since just the day before Deborah had texted me:
"Did he (Cole) tell you their latest attempt? I spoke with them about SF-7 and churches. He now claims that their 'primary use' is as a house of worship, and that he is an ordained minister, something he's never mentioned til now.
"He's considering dropping the zoning request and just declaring that they're a church. And that the pregnancy center is purely a secondary (allowed) use."
My dumfounded response to Deborah was very clear: "No. He didn't mention that. He has never mentioned the church idea."
After Deborah sent me a thumbs up, I wrote, "That will only inflame the neighborhood."
Indeed, my words were prophetic! The controversy in residential downtown Garland now parallels the turmoil two years ago created when Deborah herself led a recall petition to oust her predecessor, former District 2 Councilmember Anita Goebel during Anita's last year in office. Deborah then went on to become Anita's successor on Garland city council.
Complicating my thoughts further that Thursday morning was the memory from the day before—of early Wednesday morning, October 2. As I had done for several weeks, I had picked up Cole as usual at 6:30 a.m. at 920 West Avenue D and driven him to the men's Bible study I have attended at Firewheel Golf Course's Branding Iron Restaurant for more than 3 years.
I had invited Cole to attend the Bible study with me to help acquaint him with some of the worshipers at First Presbyterian Church, whose campus is just two blocks away from the home. Most of the Bible-study attendees are from this church. I thought this would help familiarize him with the neighborhood.
During our conversation that Wednesday morning in my car, Cole had made no mention about the fact that he was considering switching gears and declaring the premises a church. Not the slightest hint.
Puzzled and surprised are the only words I can use to describe my feelings on hearing Cole's announcement in our kitchen on that Thursday morning, October 3. Deborah had been correct in her text message the day before (but after the car ride)!
The situation was indeed odd, because the reason Cole was in my house on that morning was to pick up for lunch two men from Florida who were here for the Hensons' fundraiser in Royse City for their pregnancy-care center in Garland. One was to be the speaker. The other was his traveling companion because the speaker had been involved in a single-engine plane accident four months earlier and needed help with his luggage and other normally routine matters.
About a week earlier the Hensons had approached Kay and me and said they didn't have the funds to house the speaker for their fundraiser and wondered if we would help. We offered our guest bedroom for one night, then found out it would be two men in two separate guest bedrooms staying three days and two nights.
We really liked the men who were guests in our home and had many enjoyable conversations—and prayer times—with them. They were well-educated, devout, urbane, traveled, great conversationalists, and excellent guests.
Innocently, we had believed we as citizens could help steer these new neighbors, Cole and Raven Henson, through what we knew were going to be rough waters in getting their pregnancy-care center up and running in downtown Garland.
What we didn't know until the release recently under the Texas Open Records Act (also known as the Freedom of Information Act), was that Deborah Morris and Cole Henson were dialoging behind the scenes in such a way that the councilwoman appears to be acting more like a coach, a mentor, an advocate, a coordinator, or a consultant for the Hensons in their determination to open a pregnancy-care center in a downtown area in Morris' district where a high number of nearby neighbors did not want it.
That dialogue, which I have now read in full several times, leaves no doubt how the sudden and dramatic switch from the Hensons pushing for a zoning change to declaring their project a "church" occurred under the watchful eye of Councilwoman Morris. (see Henson email to Morris 9/30/19)
The councilmember and the Hensons were working in tandem as the case progressed.
In all my 10 years on the Garland Plan Commission and afterward I have never seen a situation where a councilmember or plan commissioner was so deeply involved in a case such as this.
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| In this email dated 9/30/19 from Cole to Deborah, he identifies her as the originator of the idea for the pregnancy center to be a church, then attaches his letter to the Plan Office stating that he is withdrawing the zoning application and proceeding to declare the house a church |
Charges are flying from Morris and her supporters, including many who do NOT live in Morris' District 2, that Eric Stuyvesant, an involved resident of District 2 who used the Texas Open Records Act to obtain the transcript of the Morris-Henson online text messages and emails, pulled comments "out of context" and wove together a pattern of deceit that did not occur.
The transcript read in full doesn't support their accusations against Eric. Though what has already been released is not all of it, the dialogue shows extensive conversation between Deborah and Cole Henson. Some 160 text and email, messages, ranging from a few words to several pages in length, dating from May 9 to October 4, 2019, are in the first release of documents between Deborah and Cole. The numbers increase sharply between September 11 and October 4, with September 25, 2019—2 days after the Plan Commission meeting in which the Hensons were sent back to staff to work on a narrow PD (planned development)—being a particularly busy day of 30 messages between the two of them.
We are now waiting for the next phase of the release of more documents, including, as I understand it, my own correspondence as well as with others and Morris about the 920 W. Avenue D and Hensons' matter. I am happy for any of my text and email conversations with the two on this matter to be released.
The historic home and the burgeoning church may represent a watershed moment for Garland in terms of defining what is acceptable and what is not for councilmembers.
Beyond just the Henson-Morris dynamic, the transcript raises serious questions about what the legal role of our councilmembers ought to be in dealing in routine matters as well as what serious matters are supposed to be managed only by trained and paid city staff.
Perhaps what Councilwoman Morris did was routine and ordinary and acceptable for our councilmembers. If that is the case, then the city attorney's office and city council need to say so, after thoroughly investigating the whole situation.
When I was on the Plan Commission for 10 years (under two different council representatives), we were schooled in knowing the limitations of how we were to deal with applicants. We were basically adjured to stay away from them. We were expected to recuse ourselves if we had even a "shadow of a doubt" that a conflict of interest existed. Commission member Stan Luckie and Plan Commission Chair Scott Roberts constantly recused themselves anytime any of their clients were before the commission. I followed their pattern.
When Douglas Athas was mayor of Garland, he constantly recused himself anytime an issue involved matters where he had a conflict of interest.
In one case, more than a decade ago, a plan commissioner thought it sufficient to recuse himself because one of his clients was involved in the case before the plan commission. That plan commissioner, once he recused himself, then was said to lobby with other plan commissioners on behalf of his client. I received one of those calls. Shortly afterward I received a phone call from city staff wanting to know if I had been lobbied by the individual. Other plan commissioners received the same phone calls.
Ultimately that commissioner pressured to resign due to what was said to be questionable conduct. This occurrence was never publicized, and the former commissioner eventually moved to another city.
Do those same rules not apply also to city councilmembers? Or have those rules been quietly revoked? Or have they never existed?
Our councilmembers are public officials, sworn to uphold the laws of Texas, the United States, and Garland. They need to be held to the highest standards of what is expected of our elected leaders.
The questions raised by what is in the dialogue need serious attention and need to be addressed in a professional public discussion about what is and what is not acceptable for our city leaders.
Kay and I first met Cole and Raven at a neighborhood party during the summer. The FOI transcripts show that this was about the time that the dialogue between Deborah and the Hensons began. When they described to us their plans for the dwelling at 920 West Avenue D, we initially expressed support for three reasons:
First, the dwelling, built in 1917, has been close to Kay's heart since childhood. A.R. and Bertha Davis, who built the house and were longtime residents, were close friends of Kay's parents; banker and leading citizen A.R. Davis was her dad's golfing buddy. Kay went trick-or-treating there. All the iris in Kay's mother's yard at 412 South 11th Street were transplants given her mother by Mrs. Davis. We were delighted to see a young couple with an infant move into the house, breathing new life into it after it had sat vacant for a while.
Secondly, we were pleased that the occupants wanted to preserve and revitalize the home (Cole is an architect) and not tear it down. Numerous palatial two-story Victorians once occupied several city blocks in the area, but one by one these structures (including the G.W. Crossman home, one of the most splendid of all Garland residences) had been felled. We were happy that the Davis home would see use and would not fall to the wrecking ball like others had.
But thirdly, and most importantly, Kay and I have a long-standing and personal commitment to pro-life. Kay is an individual that was adopted as an infant. Because of her personal history, we both know well how quickly a developing life inside a pregnant woman can be terminated by choice. We also know how desperately counseling and support and understanding are needed for a woman with an unplanned pregnancy (and for the father of the child). We saw a need for this service in Garland. The Hensons seemed to be committed and articulate spokespersons for the cause.
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| Kay's book is now considered a classic on adoption and used widely in the pro-life movement. |
Kay's book, "Gathering the Missing Pieces in an Adopted Life", is one of the earliest pro-life books written to help adoptees, adoptive parents, and birthparents with some of the most crucial issues involving decisions about whether to parent or abort a child or make an adoption plan for it. The newspaper series on which it was based was nominated for a Pulitzer Price. The book is now considered a classic in literature on the subject.
Beyond Kay's personal history with the topic and our undying gratitude for the fact that Kay had been given life when to not do so was an option, I had worked for the ethics agency for Southern Baptists and was on the team that promoted the sanctity of human life. During the years I held this job, our agency was responsible for shifting the nation's largest Protestant denomination from benign support of abortion to one of total pro-life. I managed the media campaign for that transition. We believe our efforts were responsible for helping save millions of unborn babies.
We also felt sorry for the Hensons because we believed that their real-estate agent had erred in not adding a contingency clause to their sales contract for the zoning change before finalizing the sale. (Later after I stood before plan commission and blamed their real-estate broker for creating the problem, Cole told me that a contingency clause would have made no difference; they were determined to purchase the home without taking such precautions and would have rejected any advice like that from their real estate broker.)
I doubted seriously that their proposed request for a zoning change for their home would fly in our neighborhood, because it would open Pandora's Box for the property if they moved or failed. In my testimony before the Plan Commission on September 23, I endorsed the use of the PD for the 920 West Avenue D property. This is because I had great confidence in people like attorney Brian England in the Garland City Attorneys office and Plan Commissioners such as Chris Ott and Steven Hallman as well as Chairman Scott Roberts to help write a very narrow PD (planned development district) that would comfort and calm our neighbors who saw the center as an unwelcome intrusion and that city council would approve. It also would enable the property to revert back to residential if the Hensons decided to move and sell.
As neighborhood opposition began to grow more vocal (also tracked in the Deborah-Cole dialogue), I also strongly suggested that the Hensons go door to door to personally visit with known opponents or those on the fence. I also believed they should issue targeted invitations to those they knew opposed the plan. I believed that if neighbors that opposed were able to see the floor plan of the house and/or visit the site, they might feel more favorably toward the proposed use under narrow restrictions. Kay even offered to bake a chocolate sheet cake to feed guests that might come for a look-see.
However, that suggestion did not lead to action. Cole said only supporters showed up for their open houses. After a strong disagreement on the front porch of one of our neighbors, the Hensons appeared to retreat into a circle of only their supporters—in the neighborhood and elsewhere.
At one point, when I picked up that the Hensons tended to view anyone who opposed them as a non-believer, I wrote Cole and said, ". . . See this as a community issue. Remember at every step that many of your opponents are believers who simply disagree with you about the location of your Pregnancy Resource Center."
Looking back, we realize now that the Hensons followed very few suggestions that we made. Freedom of Information records recently released under Texas law to a well-known and respected activist Garland citizen reveal an over-involvement between Deborah and the Hensons, including her unusual promise (for a politician to make to a constituent's unapproved controversial project) to provide the ultrasound medical equipment for the Shiloh Pregnancy Care Center. (She had already told me this in a text message, but a later text indicated the offer had been withdrawn.)
Cole and Raven, who had stayed behind in their vehicle that Thursday morning, and one of the two house guests left for lunch shortly thereafter, leaving Kay and me looking at each other in disbelief while standing in our living room.
At 2:34 p.m. on Thursday, October 3, the following text from Cole arrived on my phone:
"Proceeding as a Place of Worship is confirmed. Followed up with city staff to confirm that we will withdraw the zoning application request and major waiver request (including sign waiver).
"We will maintain the House Conversion submission and modify the plans accordingly to reflect this information for Building Permitting and Fire Marshall to review and approve.
"Therefore the Oct 14 meeting will only be a request for house conversion under the new parameters and property will remain SF-7 will (he meant "with") no visible deviation from a neighborhood home."
My puzzled feelings shifted to shock because of the speed with which this change had occurred. The Hensons clearly believed being a church was allowing them to escape the scrutiny of a zoning case or a PD and was a "done deal" with only technical hurdles remaining to be resolved with little public oversight. Deborah appeared to agree with them.
I grew concerned because I favor due process where citizens are given the opportunity to voice their opinions and are taken into account and democratic principles are applied. As soon as the church issue arose, Deborah started saying that city officials couldn't deny the Hensons church status—which meant nothing citizens said would have any impact.
A strong supporter of the principle of separation of church and state, I also favor religious institutions NOT abusing their rights and NOT using their special status to violate local standards, statutes, laws, and ordinances such as building codes and zoning laws that have nothing to do with the U.S. constitutional right to freedom of religion. America's "great experiment" with freedom of religion is threatened any time religious groups use their freedom unwisely and misuse it to gain advantages that are not available to ordinary citizens.
How could we have moved so rapidly from a zoning-change request submitted by the Hensons to the Plan Commission's recommendation for a narrowly cast PD (planned development district), which I had publicly and strongly supported, now to this (being a church)?, I thought as I tried to reconcile in my mind the whirlwind of events.
A little later Cole returned with his luncheon guest for the two guests in our home to get ready for that evening's fundraiser in Royse City. After Cole left, one of the men diplomatically questioned Kay about whether the church idea really was "a done deal" so quickly. I made a few phone calls to city officials, then reported back that such an assumption was premature. The nationally recognized pro-life speaker said most often when he speaks to a group, the organization's status is already solidified: the applicants already have their property and own it in the name of their organization; that he rarely if ever addresses a group where the organization's plans are still in this kind of limbo.
When the nationally recognized pro-life speaker from Florida asked me how he should manage the unsettled situation in terms of his speech, I suggested that he emphasize the pro-life movement's national, state, and regional goals and viewpoint and the need for pregnancy-care in Garland but avoid endorsing the actual location of the Hensons' home at 920 West Avenue D as the site for the pregnancy-care center. He followed my advice.
I knew the matter still had to go back to the plan commission and then to city council. I wasn't sure how either body was going to react to this sudden and unexpected shift in directions—and also to the councilmember's unusual over-involvement in this case. And I knew the question on many of their minds would be, "How did this change occur?"
As a former Garland plan commissioner for 10 years, I felt the rebuff to what the commission had earlier proposed to the Hensons as a workable compromise would not look good or be received well. I also knew many neighbors would wonder why the situation had taken such a dramatic turn which Deborah and the Hensons were spinning as a "done deal" with very little citizen input allowed.
Were neighbors who were gravely concerned about having the Shiloh Pregnancy Care Center in our neighborhood suddenly just going to start smiling and welcome this new "church" into our mix with open arms? Many had already expressed disagreement with me that I had tried to find a compassionate compromise and middle path by suggesting and then strongly publicly supporting in front of the Plan Commission "a narrow PD" for the pregnancy-care center.
Would it be like Deborah said in a text to me at 3:08 p.m. on Thursday, October 3?
"If they'll keep their commitment to keep the exterior of the house indistinguishable from the rest of the neighborhood, eventually the anger will die down. As it is, they won't be much loved by many of their neighbors. What a shame."
The nationally known speaker from Florida told us that most of the pregnancy centers with which he works have large signs that are visible from far away and that easily attract women in pregnancy crisis. He said it is rare to have a pregnancy-care center in which the center's purpose cannot be widely proclaimed in huge signage.
The deal Deborah worked out behind the scenes and described in detail in the Deborah-Henson messages calls for a small sign attached near the front door.
To me and many others, the strange turn of events of trying to sweep the issue out of public view was like the proverbial "family secret" that continues to gnaw away at the heart of a family until the matter is resolved. Unresolved family secrets have a way of destroying trust, building resentment, and undermining the good that many try to accomplish.
Our neighbors aren't going to be fooled by this switcheroo. I thought. Citizens deserve straightforward answers!
I suggested in a text to Cole that he needed to go ahead and publicly announce immediately on NextDoor their decision to declare 920 West Avenue D a "church", so no rumors would start circulating.
Cole responded, "Deborah would like to announce it at tomorrow night's meeting before we post publicly."
Next I wrote Deborah to make my suggestion:
"You need to go ahead and make the announcement on NextDoor. Word is already spreading," I said.
Deborah responded: "Who's spreading it? Please tell me it's not them."
I replied: "I am recommending to him (Cole) that he should go ahead and post on NextDoor. No sense keeping neighbors in the dark. At this point selected individuals are receiving text messages."
Deborah replied: "Louis, I strongly disagree. Tomorrow night I will come prepared with handouts and details to walk the neighborhood through this. Posting on NextDoor will just throw more grenades. This is a complex matter that requires context."
Deborah seemed adamant that she wanted to be in control of the announcement of the shift from what the Plan Commission had recommended to the "church", so I dropped the subject.
Then that night (Thursday) at the fundraising banquet, the testimonies by the Hensons were glowing. God was at work and had arranged everything perfectly for their vision that He had laid on their hearts. Their testimonies were emotion-laden. They were now a church. The deal was sealed. Everything was wonderful. Praise God!
Cole's testimony that night was even more ear-catching because he attributed everything to a revelation from God on Thursday morning (later amended with prodding from Raven to the previous Sunday night) with no reference whatsoever to Deborah Morris.
Then the Friday night, October 4, neighborhood meeting in a private home belonging to one of Deborah's appointees on the Garland bond study committee turned equally puzzling. After Deborah made the announcement about the Hensons' decision to declare the 920 West Avenue D property a "church", the Hensons stood beside Deborah to answer questions.
Question-marks were written all over the faces of numerous neighbors. It seemed tough for some to grasp why the switcheroo.
When my turn came, I asked the question burning in the back of my mind and in the minds of a number of other people: Whose idea was it that the pregnancy-care center become a church?
After a few moments of hesitation, Cole said it was his idea. Raven, of course, attributed it all to God. Cole quickly joined in the God-chorus. Not one word was said about Deborah's role in the decision.
As I attempted a follow-up question to clarify Cole's statements on Thursday morning at my house, the hostess shut me off by saying, "Louis, what's your point?" My point was that many members of the audience seemed very confused, and I believed the confusion could be resolved readily, based on the statement that Cole had made at my house the day before.
Why not let Deborah and Cole stand together in front of 30-some neighbors and explain how the shift from a zoning request to a planned development to a church actually occurred? Cole had been blunt with his words in my home, so why not in front of the larger audience? I wondered. Wouldn't it be better to have all the cards on the table, honestly and forthrightly, rather than leave neighbors wondering if they had been bamboozled?
Had I been allowed to question both Deborah and Cole together in public and let them tell their sides of the story in front of witnesses, the issue might have gone away quickly. Instead, Deborah's silence until three days later (and only after she called and asked me what my question referenced; I told her I was referring to Cole's statements on Thursday morning at my house) and Cole and Raven's God-talk in front of the neighbors angered some and left others feeling somehow cheated of the answer to a sincere question that had been bubbling for two days and is now THE heart of a major crisis in our city.
As it turns out the text and email messages and my personal experience show that Deborah Morris was over-involved in this case. Whatever her reason, I believe she vastly overstepped her boundaries as a public official. Garland is a City Manager-operated town. We have qualified employees who are supposed to do the things that Deborah has been doing in this case. City Council members are supposed to be the ones to make policy, not the ones to get involved in the minutia of running the city—especially guiding, counseling, and conferring often with an applicant of a small enterprise more like a mom-and-pop business than anything that should have consumed so much of her time and energy.
Was Deborah the one who first suggested the idea of the pregnancy-care center becoming a church? At this point, we may never know for sure, because she and the Hensons interacted so much and so often. She needed objective distance from this issue, but instead the volume and content of messages between Deborah and Cole indicate she became up to her neck in the details.
She needed to turn the matter over to the Plan Office, then step back and wait for qualified city employees to make recommendations, which she as a councilmember would act on later. Instead the revealed text messages indicate she invested entirely too much personal energy, time, and effort into something that has now turned into a colossal political mess.
One thing I do know: God is not the author of confusion, so God could not possibly have been the one who made this decision. Human hands were too involved. The recently released text and email messages between Deborah and Cole (when added to my personal correspondence with the two) are almost completely devoid of any reference to the will of God in this situation. At least in these conversations, God is simply not a factor behind the draped scenes.
God is probably embarrassed thoroughly by the whole mess and the way God's name has been inappropriately used during this ugly episode.
Regrettably, our city council now must decide on November 19 which way to go on this sad, sad, sad and shameful issue. And now to complicate matters further, council needs to decide what to do about a councilmember's excessive involvement in such a process.
******
Quick summary:
Had the Hensons and Councilwoman Morris chosen to stay the course with the PD (planned development), as the Plan Commission recommended:
1. The controversy likely would have subsided quickly and the "church route" would not be under the public microscope and would not have the appearance today of a knee-jerk, easy solution to avoid oversight.
2. The pregnancy center/church likely would not be facing the public-relations nightmare it now encounters. It would have avoided an almost "in-your-face" response to the Plan Commission's September 23 action that was designed to help and not hinder.
3. The severe restrictions on medical practices at the pregnancy-care center, placed on the "church" by the Plan Commission (and likely to be upheld by city council and possibly added to) likely would not have been necessary. The center likely could function as it was originally designed and announced.
4. The "church" likely would not have lost the trust of many.
5. Councilwoman Deborah Morris likely would not have been exposed personally to questions about her excessive involvement behind the scenes in this matter and her promised gift to the center of the ultrasound medical equipment.
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