Independent New Hampshire Journalism · Northfield, NHA reader warned me to go quiet for my own good. He deserves a real answer, and it belongs where everything on this page belongs: on the record.
Correction, Sept. 22, 2026, 9:25 a.m. EDT: This column said RSA 91-A:7 directs the courts to move right-to-know cases to the front of the calendar. The statute says the courts “shall give proceedings under this chapter high priority on the court calendar” (RSA 91-A:7, I). The sentence was corrected.
The comment arrived under a June post on this page, and it ran long. The writer, a retired project engineer by his own account, was not hostile. He said he empathized with the work. Then he laid out his worries one after another: corruption exists in every state and always will; a man who keeps at it could end up in over his head; and he would hate to open Facebook one morning and find my obituary, written off as a suicide or a snow-plow accident, because somebody got tired of hearing from me. He stressed that he doubted anything like that would happen. He also told me I had already made my point, that I had ethically won, and he asked whether publicizing the win was worth it.
He signed off with the best advice a mentor ever gave him, forty years ago beside a dumpster: pick your battles. It was a kind comment from a stranger, more honest than most people manage with their friends. It deserves a real answer, and it deserves one in public, because his questions are the questions. Anyone who has watched this page file records requests and publish what comes back has wondered some version of the same thing. Why keep at it? Why under your own name? Why out loud?
So here is the answer, dated and signed. This work was never revenge, and it was never a scoreboard. What it is: a request letter, a statute, a deadline, and a published result. And the out-loud part is the method itself. It also happens to be the protection.
What the work is
Granite State Report runs on one machine, and the machine is simple. A records request goes out to a public agency citing RSA 91-A, New Hampshire’s Right-to-Know Law. The clock starts. Whatever the agency sends back gets read, checked, and published with the paper attached, so readers can weigh the evidence instead of taking my word for anything. Then the next letter goes out. The letters go to police departments, town halls, and state agencies; the beats change, the machine does not. It is supposed to be boring. Boring is the point.
Notice what the law does not say. It creates no special door for journalists. Under RSA 91-A:4, every citizen holds the same right to inspect and copy governmental records, and a press badge adds nothing to that right. When I file a request, I am turning a key that every person reading this sentence already owns. That fact is worth sitting with, because it means the machine this page runs on is available to anyone with a stamp and a question, which is how the statute reads on its face: the widest access the law can give, answering to the people who own the government.
The clock matters too. Under RSA 91-A:4, IV, an agency that cannot produce a record immediately has five business days to do one of three things: make it available, deny the request with the specific exemption in writing, or state in writing how much time it reasonably needs and why. Asking costs nothing, and inspecting costs nothing; only copies can be billed, at actual cost. Agencies miss that five-day mark more often than they should. When they do, the file gets thicker, not thinner. Silence is a document too.
About that dragon
The engineer wrote that corruption is never going away, that pursuing it amounts to “chasing a dragon.” He is right about the first half. Corruption is a permanent feature of human institutions, in New Hampshire and everywhere else, and nothing this page publishes will end it.
But dust never goes away either, and nobody calls mopping a floor dragon hunting. Accountability work is maintenance, the same category of labor as plowing a road or flushing a hydrant. The job was never eradication. The job is to make sure that when public officials cut corners, it happens on the record and costs something. A town office that expects its records to be requested behaves differently from one that expects no one to ask. That difference is the whole product, and it has to be renewed the way any maintenance is renewed: on a schedule, without applause.
New Hampshire wrote this idea down before the United States had a constitution. Part I, Article 8 of the state’s Bill of Rights, adopted in 1784, calls every magistrate and officer of government an agent of the people, answerable to them at all times. In 1976 the voters amended the article to put the right of access into the constitution itself:
That is not a mission statement I wrote for myself. It is the founding document of the state I live in, and I read it as instructions.
About ending up over my head
Now the hard part of his comment, the part about obituaries. He framed it as concern, and I take it as concern; he said plainly that he doubted anything would happen. But he put the scenario on the table, so I will answer it the way this page answers everything, with a plain statement in public, where it stays dated and visible.
For the record: I am in good health. I am in good spirits. I am not suicidal, and I am careful, in traffic, in winter, and everywhere else. I am a father with a young daughter and every reason to be here for a long time. If the record ever appears to say otherwise, ask hard questions.
Some will call that dramatic. I call it a filing. A dated public statement is exactly the kind of document this page exists to create, and this one cost nothing but a paragraph.
Here is the logic underneath it. Quiet is where people get hurt. The dangerous version of this work is the whispered version, the reporter who hints at what he holds, trades in private, and keeps his cards where nobody can count them. The public version is the safe version. Every request I file is written down. Every response, every refusal, every blown deadline sits in a folder and, sooner or later, on this page. An audience that has read the file is worth more than any lock on my door. If the work ever stops being visible, that is the moment to start asking questions. So it will not stop being visible.
Picking the battle
His mentor’s advice was sound, and I did what it says. The battle was picked a long time ago.
It was never any single police department, town office, or official. The battle is the gap between what the law promises and what agencies deliver when nobody presses. The promise is written in the preamble above. The gap shows up in blown deadlines, view-only offers, fee arithmetic, and silence, and closing it requires no rage at all. It requires postage and patience.
When patience runs out, the statute has a back end. Under RSA 91-A:7, any person aggrieved by a violation can petition the superior court, with or without a lawyer, and the law directs the courts to give those cases high priority on the calendar. Since 2022 there has been a second track as well: a right-to-know ombudsman process that takes written complaints for a $25 fee the office can waive. The engineer counseled me to be patient and save myself for a legal fight that carries the highest priority. I have news he will enjoy. The legislature already assigned the priority, in black and white, and it sits at the end of the same chapter I cite in every letter.
Why out loud
Everything above could be done quietly. Requests can be filed and dropped in a drawer, and plenty of people work that way. The drawer is where the pressure dies. Publication is what converts a record into accountability: an unread document changes nothing, while a published one changes behavior, sometimes in the first week, sometimes in the third year. Out loud is not a style choice layered on top of the work. Out loud is the work.
It is also an invitation. The key I described earlier sits in your pocket right now. A Right-to-Know request needs no form and no lawyer. Describe the record you want, send it to the agency that holds it, and the five-day clock starts the moment it lands. If the answer is a refusal without a written exemption, the law has been violated, and you hold the paper that proves it. This page will keep showing what that looks like in practice, letter by letter, so that more people in this state use the door the constitution propped open in 1976.
The engineer wrote that he was not telling me to keep my mouth shut, only warning me against stumbling into something big while trying to prove myself righter than everyone else. Fair warning, and taken. But being right was never the product. This page sells one thing: the record. I do not need to win an argument with any official in New Hampshire. I need the documents, the dates, and the daylight, and the law hands me all three.
So, to the engineer: thank you. You wrote to a stranger with more care than most people spend on their friends, and you earned a whole column in reply. You said I had made my point. With respect, this is the kind of point that does not stay made. Openness is maintenance. The floor gets mopped again tomorrow.
The battle’s picked. This is it.
— Dexter Dow, Granite State Report
Your Turn
You tell me: What record should Granite State Report request next, and from which agency? granitestatereport@gmail.com
Fact check
| # | Claim | Status | Source |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | RSA 91-A:1 preamble text as quoted in the statute box | VERIFIED | RSA 91-A chapter text, N.H. General Court (gc.nh.gov), read July 3, 2026 |
| 2 | RSA 91-A:4 gives every citizen the right to inspect and copy governmental records; no separate access tier for the press | VERIFIED | RSA 91-A:4, I, N.H. General Court chapter text |
| 3 | Five-business-day requirement: produce, deny in writing with the exemption, or state in writing the time needed and why; inspection free, copies at actual cost | VERIFIED | RSA 91-A:4, IV(b)–(d), N.H. General Court chapter text |
| 4 | RSA 91-A:7 lets any aggrieved person petition superior court, with or without counsel, and directs courts to give such cases high priority | VERIFIED | RSA 91-A:7, I, N.H. General Court chapter text |
| 5 | Ombudsman complaint track created in 2022; $25 filing fee, waivable for inability to pay | VERIFIED | RSA 91-A:7-a and 91-A:7-b (2022, 250:3), N.H. General Court chapter text |
| 6 | N.H. Constitution Part I, Article 8 text as quoted; adopted 1784; access sentence added by 1976 amendment | VERIFIED | N.H. Constitution, Bill of Rights (Justia full text); cross-checked against the N.H. Law Library Right-to-Know guide |
| 7 | Content of the reader’s comment: retired project engineer; warnings including the obituary scenario; “chasing a dragon”; advice to finish without revenge and pick battles | VERIFIED | Editor’s screenshots of the public comment under the June 13, 2026 Granite State Report Facebook post |
| 8 | Agencies miss the five-day mark “more often than they should”; the gap includes blown deadlines, view-only offers, and fee arithmetic | ATTRIBUTED | Editor’s characterization of Granite State Report’s own request files; individual matters to be documented in their own articles |
Reach the editor directly — confidentiality respected where possible.
granitestatereport@gmail.com · (603) 931-9264
Editor’s note. Every statutory and constitutional claim above was verified against the chapter text published by the N.H. General Court on July 3, 2026; see the fact-check table. The commenter is described but deliberately not named: his remarks were public, but this column argues with an idea, not a person. Article 8 is cited through Justia and the N.H. Law Library; the wording matches across sources. Row 8 reflects the editor’s request files rather than an independent audit. Corrections: Granite State Report corrects verified errors promptly and appends a dated note identifying what changed and when. The corrections policy and the corrections register are public, and correction notes are never removed.
