Was Treasurer Investing in Vain Just to Justify His Reign?

Wasn’t it just two weeks ago that the clouds had parted over Orange County and bright sunshine had burst through? Wasn’t someone just saying that a local economic recovery was in gear and that happy days were here again?

And now this? Now, we’re told that one bookish, bespectacled career county treasurer has single-handedly triggered financial chaos? That the man who always wanted to be known as “Bob” on the tax bills he mailed out has brought us the apocalypse just in time for Christmas?

It’s no surprise in this recall-nutty climate that the Board of Supervisors is getting the word out pronto that it is not, repeat not responsible for Treasurer-Tax Collector Robert L. Citron’s investments. Make that “former” treasurer-tax collector, following Citron’s resignation this week. But the point is that the board never has felt the need to separate itself from Citron before. True, the treasurer-tax collector is elected and not beholden to the supervisors, but they loved to mention his name during those years when he was raking in big money for local municipalities.

Now, it’s “Bob Who?”

Bob Who has done something you wouldn’t think possible. He has the country talking about rock-ribbed conservative Orange County as the equivalent of a municipal casino. County governments all over the country invest their funds, but none of them makes the national news. None of them has a normally circumspect U.S. congressman like Christopher Cox telling a TV audience that the county might declare bankruptcy.

Citizens who don’t know the bond market from a flea market are no doubt shocked to learn that one man had this much financial responsibility. At a time of public mistrust of government, in general, this story lands with the same kind of thud that accompanied the collapse a few years ago of so many of the nation’s savings and loan institutions.

Citron’s resignation has a weird historical symmetry to it. He was the county’s tax collector in 1973 when the Board of Supervisors decided to merge that office with that of treasurer. Despite the then-treasurer’s urging that the job be given to his assistant, the supervisors gave it to Citron.

One demurring supervisor questioned whether Citron had enough investment experience to handle the task of managing what then was a nearly $1-billion portfolio. Supervisor David Baker noted that “one unwise investment” could have disastrous consequences.

In subsequent elections, however, Democrat Citron became as entrenched as the Republican officeholders that surrounded him. His personal quirkiness seemed an amusing counterpoint to the serious job he had of minding the store for the dozens of public entities who turned over their money to him.

He sent out tax bills with poetry attached, such as “Taxes paid on time never draw fines.” One year, he sponsored a poetry contest for taxpayers and awarded $10 to a woman from San Clemente who suggested, “Isn’t it worth a little bounty to live in Orange County?”

In 1977, Citron wrote to County Auditor Vic Heim, claiming that Heim’s office had shortchanged him $12.66 in annual salary. “I do not wish to make a great issue over $12.66 a year,” Citron wrote, “but knowing your penchant for operating your office not only exactly to legal mandates but accepted accounting procedures, I know that now that this has been brought to your attention, you will wish to rectify this matter.”

*

After Heim convinced Citron he hadn’t been shortchanged, Citron apologized.

But this isn’t to suggest Citron was all fluff. Over the years, he was hailed for his investment acumen. He also played against form as the quiet bookkeeper, occasionally willing to challenge popular causes or officials.

In the face of overwhelming public support, he vocally opposed Proposition 13 in 1978 for its potential revenue impact on governments, particularly school districts. He said its passage would bring “anarchy” to schools and government. His opposition never hurt him at the polls.

In the 1970s, he criticized city officials in Anaheim for favoring development over the needs of ordinary citizens, saying at one point, “Human beings by nature are selfish; some are more selfish than others, particularly in the city of Anaheim regarding Project Beta (an urban redevelopment project).”

As recently as 1987, he took on Sheriff Brad Gates, questioning both his budgeting prowess and his managerial skills.

These days, the man who occasionally wrote long letters to the editor at the newspaper remains silent. The man who challenged the Republican hierarchy won’t emerge from his home to explain how his investment calculations went so dreadfully wrong.

In the ultimate irony, the public is left to speculate about Citron’s speculating. Did he get caught up in the frenzied Wall Street game that has proved so alluringly fatal to so many others? Was he trying too hard to find revenues for those public entities he felt were strapped for funds?

Was it pure bad judgment that brought him crashing down? Or, perhaps, foolish pride?

Put another way, was he still trying 20 years later to prove he was the right man for the job?

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, Calif. 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.