CLAIMS COMMITTEE The People's Subcommittee -- Panel sifts through state's Wapner-like cases Tucked away in the 1990 Laws of Minnesota is a $14 appropriation to compensate Mark H. Deshazer for a "Led Zeppelin" shirt that was lost in the prison laundry at St. Cloud. In the following year, three families from the Little Falls area were each paid $5,000 (a fourth got $7,000) to help pay for their connection to the city water system because a nearby MnDOT salt pile was threatening their wells. And Harrison T. Alink of Austin got $60 from the state that year as part of his state veterans bonus for serving in the Merchant Marine during WWII. All three filed claims with the joint legislative claims subcommittee, a little-noticed panel whose existence -- save for a few prison inmates -- is virtually unknown outside the Capitol complex. The panel, composed of three members from the House and three from the Senate, serves as a sort of collective Peoples Court, dispensing justice after sifting through claims that are often quite odd. "You feel a little like Judge Wapner," said Rep. Andy Steensma (DFL-Luverne), the House chair of the subcommittee. "We just ask all kinds of questions." The committee usually meets just two or three times a year, sometimes when the Legislature is not in session. And all things considered, most subcommittee members would probably rather be elsewhere. "To tell you the truth, it's one of the most thankless committees in the House," said Steensma. "Nobody wants to do it. . . . If I could be chair of another committee, I'd take any committee there is." Its hearings are informal, with fewer rules than would apply in a court of law. In the overwhelming majority of cases, the subcommittee says no to claims. But sometimes it will pay a claim when the argument is "very compelling on a moral basis, even though the legal argument isn't very good," said Harry Walsh, acting Revisor of Statutes who has served as co-counsel for the subcommittee. For example, he doubted whether the four families from Little Falls would have won in court had they chosen to sue. And Rep. Steve Wenzel (DFL-Little Falls), who appeared before the claims subcommittee with his constituents, said it was better to resolve the dispute this way than to hire expensive lawyers and fight it out in court. "It's [the subcommittee] one of the best kept secrets in state government," said Wenzel. That may be true, but claims against the state have been around for years. The 1891 appropriations bill contained the following provision: "To reimburse George Jenkins for feed and lodgings furnished refugees during the Indian outbreak in 1862, at Crow Wing, Minnesota, $500." Although some of the claims are fairly straightforward -- such as the ones that compensate prisoners for on-the-job injuries -- the overwhelming majority have a distinctly odd flavor. The subcommittee handles cases that "sort of slip through the cracks," said Carla Riehle, the subcommittee's co-counsel. For example, several thousand dollars of the $133,186 claims bills of 1991 went to reimburse 24 different people for "fines assessed due to erroneous weight limits posted on the Champlin bridge." And $3,500 was appropriated to reimburse a Minnesota State Patrol officer "for legal defense costs relating to possible criminal negligence charges resulting from a motor vehicle accident while performing duties for the state patrol." "You don't have to look very far to find interesting claims," said the subcommittee's clerk, who processes the claims. In one case an escaped prisoner ditched a pillow case full of his worldly goods, then, after he was apprehended, lodged a claim against the state for the lost items. Another time an inmate brought a claim because he didn't like the perm he received at the prison barbershop. Neither claim was allowed. The case of prison inmate Mark Deshazer's shirt is also a bit unusual. Although prison rules explicitly state that the Department of Corrections is not responsible for inmates' personal laundry, the subcommittee made an exception in Deshazer's case. Why? Apparently because the shirt was lost while he was sent to the intensive care unit. Since he didn't place the shirt in the laundry himself, he couldn't be blamed for its loss. Similarly, a prisoner was once paid $50 for damage to her television set after it fell from a cart that was being pushed by a guard. "We do have a duty to be at least partially careful," said Jean Whitney, assistant to the commissioner of the Department of Corrections who oversees prison claims. "If you're in our institutions, we do have a duty to provide for your well-being. We can't cut their fingers off -- that's not part of the deal. And we can't break their stuff." Even though it's been about 50 years since Harrison Alink, now 72, served in the Merchant Marine during WWII, the approval of his $60 bonus was fairly routine. In 1989, the U.S. Congress changed the legal definition of "veteran" to include those who served in the Merchant Marine -- reflecting the danger under which enlistees served. When Alink, a machine gunner on an ammunition ship, heard about becoming eligible for a bonus, he went to see his local veterans service officer, who processed the claim. (WWII vets could receive up to $400; the bonuses of Merchant Marine vets are prorated based on the time spent outside the 12-mile U.S. territorial limit.) Oftentimes, however, the claim process begins at the urging of a legislator, which can make the job of saying no that much tougher, said Steensma. "It's [serving on the subcommittee] kind of enjoyable, but you sure don't make any friends," said Steensma. -- Grant Moos Serving on claims panel was not always un popular Although serving on the Joint Claims Subcommittee is probably one of the least desirable assignments at the Capitol, it wasn't always that way. In 1955, a full-fledged commission was created to hear the claims to reduce the workload on the full House Appropriations and Senate Finance committees, which had heard the claims prior to that time. Capitol insiders say the commission was once on a par in status with the powerful Legislative Building Commission, which recommended to the Legislature what state building projects should be funded. But the commission disbanded in 1973 for both political and pragmatic reasons. DFLers in the 1972 elections had made an issue of the numerous Republican commissions, and eliminated many of them when they took control of the House and Senate, said Peter Wattson of Senate Counsel and Research, who advised the subcommittee for several years. The other reason was a landmark 1962 Minnesota Supreme Court decision that eliminated the age-old doctrine of government immunity, which paved the way for lawsuits against the state. Prior to that time, it was legally impossible to successfully sue the government. "Now all the good ones [claims] are heard in court and the poor Legislature is left with all the others," said Wattson. In the early 1970s, the Legislature also gave state departments the authority to settle claims of up to $2,500 -- eliminating much of the commission's work. Originally printed in 1992 in the Session Weekly, a weekly newsmagazine published by the Minnesota House Public Information Office. ***Last Update 8/5/94 (jtt) Last Review 8/5/94 (jtt) ***