Just the Tip
Writing public records requests that produce results
Last week, a friend asked for help with a public records request, and I went back through my emails and document folders, trying to find the very helpful guide I could have sworn I’d once written for Justin1.
Turns out, unfortunately, I’d never done such a thing. Rather, I’d abrasively and disjointedly shouted advice across the internet, between dick jokes, deep dives, and murder investigations.
Thus, this week, I’ve been allowed to steal the proverbial mic, correct the record, and write something slightly less profane, and a bit more useful.
How to write public records requests that get you somewhere
My trial practice professor said “there are two kinds of adverse witnesses in this world. Bad people who are lying, and good people who are mistaken. Don’t mix them up.”
Similarly, there are two kinds of records clerks: Helpful clerks, who need as much detail as possible to get you the correct information, and obstructionate clerks, who are hoping for a reason to deny your request and move on with their day.
And you usually won’t get the chance to figure out which kind of clerk you’re dealing with. So write a request that will work for both.
What happens when a typical request meets a bad clerk
Here is a typical, serviceable, ordinary public records request:
I am requesting the arrest report for Jim Roe, date of birth August 1, 2002, who was arrested on February 2, 2023 at the Eight-Ball Lounge in Worcester, Massachusetts.
It’s fine, and might get results, if it reaches a friendly clerk.
If it reaches someone who’d rather not respond, it’s deeply problematic; every word (nearly) provides an opportunity to deny, withhold, or simply not locate the desired records.
Here’s why:
“Arrest report” is too narrow. It might not even get you the narrative reports relating to the incident that lead to the arrest. Also, in some states, while there isn’t a broad exemption for a “police report,” arrest reports are protected as if they are CORI information. Or, what if he wasn’t even considered “arrested.” Some municipalities have started claiming that individuals were never arrested, they were just “transported and released2.”
“Jim Roe” doesn’t, well, feel like a real name, does it? How sure are you that it’s not James? What if it’s an a/k/a?
“August 1, 2002” and “February 1, 2023” are pin-point details. What if you got the subject’s date of birth wrong? What if the cops recorded it wrong? What if the arrest occurred after midnight?
“Eight Ball Lounge” is a convenient detail, but addresses can be tricky. If you are looking for an arrest or incident at a particular location, you’d need to be very confident not only in the location, but in how the records keeper – and its informants – would describe it.
Every word is a door that can close.
Draft a broad request, with specific details.
Rather than the above, to avoid unnecessary denials, you might start out with something like:
Any documents concerning an incident on the 1200 block of Main Street in Worcester, Massachusetts on February 2nd or 3rd, 2023.
The use of “any documents” might avoid any dickering over whether the responsive information is an “arrest report,” a “police report,” an “incident report,” or some brand-new term, just dreamed up.
On a separate line:
To assist you in locating these records, it is my understanding that three police vehicles were dispatched to the eight-ball lounge, operated by Eighty Ballz, LLC, at 10:17 pm, and that a number of arrests were made subsequently. Some of the individuals believed to have been involved have been identified as “James Doe” and “Jim Roe.”
Then talk about the scope:
My request would include, but is not limited to, arrest reports, police reports, narratives, any revised copies of any police reports, the 911 recording that resulted in the dispatch, any witness statements taken, any requests for overtime, any use of force reports, or similar.
Because you’ve drafted something so wonderfully broad, you might end up catching “exempt” information or documents within the scope. To avoid the clerk, or records officer, using that as an excuse to deny the whole thing, specify that you’re willing to accept redacted records (if necessary):
If any of the requested, responsive records disclose the identities of any crime victims, or the medical or personnel information of any officer, please note that I will accept redacted copies of these records.
Wrapping it up – even if it was just the tip
To clerk-proof your requests, here’s the bottom line:
Offer the broadest possible description of what you want, phrased in terms of the information you hope to receive – not the particular “name” or “type” of record or document you’d anticipate contains that information;
Provide specific, descriptive, information that may be useful to the agency in locating your targeted information among other records;
Tell them what you expect to receive, or, alternately, what you’ll accept.
Be very careful with specific dates, names, times. Even street addresses. Some states are notorious for not really using “mailing addresses” for anything but mail. (Florida – why did you hurt me so?).
Finally, some additional tips:
If mom says no, ask dad. Do a little research to find out who holds the records, and why; something exempt in one set of hands might not be in others. (We already discussed this here).
Take small bites. If you’re looking for something chronologically broad, why not request a chunk at a time? In many states, there’s only a cost per request when the request exceeds a certain page or search time threshold.
Test the fences. If your request concerns a hot button or controversial issue – or one where an agency might have a particular, personalized stake, start with something a bit more tangential, and see how the agency responds. Then follow up with your main interest.
As a litigator, all of my work, of any kind, commences with CTRL + V from the last appropriate model.
Transported and released would sure feel like an arrest to me, but what do I know.