 With the state billions of dollars behind in paying its debt,
collecting on unpaid bills can be a torturous, confusing process in
which how fast you get paid may depend on whom you know.After
receiving "hardship" appeals from businesses and community
organizations awaiting payment from the state, Gov. Pat Quinn's
budget office asked to speed up the payment of $1.1 billion on more
than 21,000 vouchers in the last 13 months. That's an average of 83
each business day, according to an Associated Press analysis of
state records.
But the rules for who gets paid and how quickly are not always
followed. Even state Comptroller Judy Baar Topinka, whose office is
in charge of writing the checks, acknowledges the system isn't fair.
Nearly 1,000 pages of emails and letters to the state, obtained
by the AP under the Freedom of Information Act and supported by
other documents and interviews, showed that businesses and
nonprofits backed by lawmakers or others with clout -- Democrat or
Republican -- often get paid more quickly than others.
"You're supposed to be able to write and tell someone, ‘We have a
problem here,' but it's not working either," said Moira Baker of
Mary and Tom Leo Associates, a child welfare agency. The bills "just
stack up."
After months of waiting for phone calls to be returned and on the
"verge of having to stop services," Baker contacted Senate President
John Cullerton, D-Chicago, who represents the district where her
agency is located. When Cullerton put the association's request on
paper, money flowed to her within days.
Similarly, cash quickly followed queries from House Majority
Leader Barbara Flynn Currie, D-Chicago, and her Senate counterpart,
James Clayborne, D-Belleville. The responses included money for
bills newer than what the state considers to be a hardship. Some of
the bills were submitted just days earlier.
"Is any of this fair? None of it is fair," said Topinka, a
Republican. "No matter what we do, we're going to have to juggle."
To help them determine who needs it the most, Topinka said her
staff relies on what "a legislator or an agency director tells us. I
don't know another way to get at it."
Quinn's budget office encourages people to go to a website and
fill out a form if they want to claim a financial hardship, but
businesses can also call or write directly. The website says bills
must be at least 90 days old to be considered for hardship payment
and that only bills from the fiscal year that ended in June are
getting attention while the state catches up.
But some vendors get newer bills paid. Budget spokeswoman Kelly
Kraft called the 90-day mark "a guideline" and said bills from this
fiscal year can be paid if they're for "vital state operations."
In an interview with the AP, Quinn expressed no dissatisfaction
with a system he said predates his time in office.
"You have to have a process where people who are in dire straits
can appeal and ask for expedited payment," the Democrat told the AP.
"But anyone is able to do that."
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Some vendors, however, aren't aware the expedited process exists.
Glenda Farkas, executive director of the West Central Illinois
Center for Independent Living in Quincy, said she struggled with
late state payments for three years before finding out about the
hardship process in July. A letter to her state representative and
senator helped her receive her payments for May and June, but
nothing since.
"It was a temporary Band-Aid fix," she said. "It's still a
month-to-month struggle."
Though some nonprofits received payments within days after
appealing with just a hardship letter and no apparent written help
from lawmakers, records show skids get greased almost immediately
when legislators speak up.
Topinka's own legislative liaison, Peg Mosgers, made a plea to
the comptroller's bill-payers on July 15 about overdue payments to a
nonprofit with clients in Currie's district. "Barbara Flynn Currie"
is underlined and the memo asks, "Can we pay something? Let me know
and I'll call Currie's office."
Mosgers indicates that $29,432 was 90 days overdue to FCAN, the
Families' and Children's AIDS Network. But three days later, when
checks were cut, they also included a $93,000 payment that was just
over 60 days late and an $11,000 payment submitted earlier that
month, despite the rules on how old bills must be to warrant
hardship status.
Currie said she typically intervenes when a business or community
organization tells her that employee paychecks are in jeopardy. She
said she was not aware that in the FCAN case, all its bills were
paid, including newer ones.
"We're not asking them for that," Currie said. "We're asking them
to make sure these people have enough money to make payroll."
FCAN director Linda Coon has had a professional relationship with
Currie and gave the Democratic lawmaker campaign contributions
totaling $650 a half-dozen years ago. Currie said neither the
rapport nor the political gifts played a role.
Topinka's spokesman Brad Hahn insists that each case where a
legislator intervened involved a "legitimate urgency" for agencies
that were waiting months for payment.
"We don't hand out money haphazardly over here," Topinka said.
[Associated Press;
By JOHN O'CONNOR]
Associated Press writers Christopher Wills and
Sophia Tareen contributed to this report.
Copyright 2011 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This
material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or
redistributed.
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