Emotion, conflict help put life in budget stories

Budget stories always present a quandary for newspapers. On one hand, tracking how governments spend tax money is one of the most important things we do in a democracy. On the other, unless the document includes something about Lindsay Lohan's rehab or Brad Pitt's travel itinerary, not many people will read about it.

So, it's been a special curiosity to me to see how the current budget wars in Springfield play out, and I have to say I'm a little surprised. True, in the context of the billions of dollars a year that the state spends, a measly million bucks for an overtime session may seem inconsequential. But for a budget that hardly differs from one on the table when the session officially ended? One that lawmakers had five months to work on during the regular session? One that is linked to substantial pay raises lawmakers voted for themselves and that's involved in a complex political tug of war?

Somewhere along the line, I'd expect to see more outrage on the airwaves and in letters to the editor.

Part of the challenge is in the framing of the story. To that end, state government editor John Patterson has striven to report on the budget not as a recounting of a document filled with numbers but as the focus of an intriguing political soap opera. Presumably, the melodrama -- which features a fascinating love-hate triangle involving Gov. Blagojevich, House Speaker Michael Madigan and Senate President Emil Jones -- attracts readers where simple accounting for spending line items does not.

But it also bears repeating that the story is more than just idle entertainment. If a governor can override the stated wishes of his legislature and allot money however he wants, that dramatically changes the influence voters have into how their tax money is spent. Then again, if that governor's interests included more money for public health for, oh, I don't know, mental health and substance abuse issues involving an attractive, young Hollywood star, maybe it would generate more reader interest in the spending.

Whenever I see stories about Elvira Arellano, the illegal immigrant holed up in a Chicago storefront church to avoid deportation, I can't help hearing the voice of Quasimodo snarling out "Sanctuary! Sanctuary!" as he tries to rescue Esmerelda from the gallows in "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." But I have no illusions about Arellano's yearlong seclusion. She's not been huddling at Adalberto United Methodist Church to avoid execution for an attempted murder she did not commit. She wants her 8-year-old son, a legal U.S. citizen, to be raised as an American and she doesn't want to be separated from him. Her story is not particularly suburban, so we wouldn't usually follow it more closely than through whatever wire sources might provide. But the issue she champions -- a change in American immigration law -- affects tens of thousands of Daily Herald readers. So, as the anniversary of her escape to the church approached, we thought it valuable to chronicle a day in her life, presuming that whatever your stance on immigration issues, you understand better the merits of her particular statement by seeing what her days have been like. Tara Malone's chronicle on Sunday aimed pointedly to be neither sympathetic nor unsympathetic to her cause.

The "Family Secrets" trial is another ongoing case whose appeal is more regional than suburban. So, like the Arellano case, we've been thoughtful to pick our spots in allocating our own reporting resources instead of using Associated Press accounts. Joey "The Clown" Lombardo's testimony this week naturally caught our attention. Again, Rob Olmstead's reports on the colorful mobster were meant to be neither sympathetic nor unsympathetic.

Just fascinating.