Sometime soon, a Stearns County judge will review about 168 pages that Patty and Jerry Wetterling have asked to keep out of the public eye.
The Stearns County sheriff was set to release on June 5 the entire 56,000 pages of its closed investigation into the 1989 abduction of the Wetterlings' son, Jacob. The attorney for the Wetterlings, Doug Kelley, persuaded a judge to stop that from happening to prevent the release of a small number of those records that involve details of "the inner workings" of the Wetterling family, according to a court filing.
They argue those records should remain private due to privacy protections in the U.S. and Minnesota constitutions. When Stearns County Attorney Janelle Kendall declined to push for the release of the documents, a number of media and open government advocacy organizations intervened rather than abandon Minnesota's public records law.
It is a conflict no one wants. And it's not about any zeal to sift through and publish highly personal records.
The Star Tribune has not joined the group opposing the Wetterlings' request, although my company is a member of the Minnesota Newspaper Association, which has. So has the Minnesota Coalition on Government Information, on whose board I sit.
While the legal arguments will get sorted out in a St. Cloud courtroom, some of us fear that no matter the outcome, this case could mark the end of Minnesota's laudable openness about how its law officers investigate crime.
Since 1981, state law has required police to open up criminal investigative files once the cases are resolved. It's a powerful tool to understand how this branch of government operates. And it dispels the many conspiracy theories that fill the vacuum when governments keep secrets.
For all the anguished responses after the release of videos and interview transcripts associated with the police-involved deaths of Philando Castile and Jamar Clark, imagine if law enforcement was allowed to withhold that evidence forever.