Oak Hill litigation ends on Shakespearean note

This post is one in a partnership between the Rochester Beacon and veteran reporter Gary Craig, featuring articles published on his Substack site.

On page 13 of the 50-page Oak Hill Country Club lawsuit decision is an interesting footnote.

“The essence of the conversation between (Eugene) Baldino and (Hanna) Halpin concerned whether another member … and his wife were properly denied a table in the Grill Room,” the footnote states.

“As the content of this conversation is not relevant to the issues herein, it is not set forth in detail.”

Occasionally Shakespearean in nature, with Falstaffian vanity sometimes rearing its head, the Oak Hill litigation could well be embodied in this footnote. In essence, it says of the conversation that was at the epicenter of the litigation: “Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

As I mentioned several times in coverage of the case, the controversial conversation that led to the ouster of retired businessman Eugene Baldino from the Oak Hill board of governors likely would not be central to the judicial decision. The real issue was whether the board followed proper procedures—basically due process—and how rigorous and detailed those procedures must be.

“Baldino was afforded the due process required by common law, and his removal was not due to a violation of lawful procedure,” state Supreme Court Justice Daniel Doyle wrote in the May 15 decision, in which he sided with Oak Hill and dismissed the lawsuit against the club.

In mid-December, with the Oak Hill trial underway, I wrote a post about the questions that could be determinative with the ruling. In that post, I suggested that among the most important questions for Doyle would be these:

■ What would be a proper notice to inform a governor (similar to a member of a board of directors) that he or she faces disciplinary measures?

■ How much opportunity should a board member, targeted for discipline, have to call witnesses or present evidence on his or her behalf?

■ What would be the proper procedures for governors to seek out and obtain detailed information about the club’s finances?

Doyle decided that the club’s governors had given sufficient notice to Baldino that he was the target of an investigation because of what observers said was his angrily animated talk with Halpin, Oak Hill’s former food and beverage manager and a central witness in the trial. Witnesses who saw the conversation, even if they didn’t hear the contents, had no reason to lie about Baldino’s actions, the judge decided.

Even Baldino’s wife apologized to Halpin afterward, according to testimony.

No pretext, no conspiracy

Nor did Doyle think there was proof of a collaborative effort to remove Baldino, who alleged that the board used the interaction with Halpin as a pretext to remove him because he had questioned financial and managerial decisions.

Doyle wrote that there wasn’t evidence that “a conspiracy was hatched to present to the board a fabricated version of events.” Baldino had the opportunity to challenge the board’s plans to oust him and call witnesses if he so chose, Doyle wrote.

The judge also sided with the club in finding no wrongdoing in how it handled requests for financial information from Baldino and others.

Baldino’s lawyers have filed a notice of appeal, though that doesn’t ensure an appeal will come. Some members say they expect those who sued to face suspension or other internal punishment.

There are rules in the Oak Hill bylaws for that process as well. Imagine the money that could be spent on legal fees if questions arise again.

Elsewhere in the Hall of Justice

One January day, as I was in the magnetometer line at the Hall of Justice en route to the Oak Hill trial, I overheard a conversation between two men also in line.

The two had not seen each other for a while. One was on parole and on his way to drug treatment court. The other, who’d also had past brushes with the law, was there to support a friend.

They began to discuss common acquaintances. One mentioned a woman, wondering what became of her. The other answered, “She’s in prison. I think she killed a baby.”

Minutes later, I was listening to testimony about angry golfers, upset that someone had cut in front of them on the course. And testimony about proper seating at the Oak Hill Grill Room. And testimony about the need for “gentlemanly” conduct at the venerated country club.

Meanwhile, next door, a double-murder trial was underway.

Granted, hours spent in the Hall of Justice can be hours that tear at one’s soul. Criminals, victims, ugliness that can’t be understood, addictions that are hard to beat—these are the daily fare at the Hall of Justice.

The incongruity with the Oak Hill trial could not be missed. I understand that much was at play for some of the club members—reputation foremost among them—but, to much of the outside world, the trial was a bit of a sideshow lacking significance.

This wasn’t limited to the outside world. I was also in touch with members who found the whole episode embarrassing.

Of all the cases I’ve covered through my career, and many of them were high-profile, I have never faced as many questions and comments from friends and the public as I have with the Oak Hill lawsuit.

There were days when I couldn’t seem to escape the topic. The interest, I admit, surprised me. Perhaps it was a reprieve from the downer that the news can often be.

Gary Craig is a Rochester Beacon contributing writer. A retired Democrat and Chronicle reporter, he now writes on Substack.

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