Barry County Set a $281,535 Court-Access Condition. I Want to See The County’s Legal Bill For Defending It.

Barry County’s court defendants are defending a $281,535 condition on virtual hearings. Their own orders show his support motion dismissed for nonappearance while the other side appeared remotely. Residents deserve the reasoning before they get stuck with a nonstop string of bills for defending these decisions.

$281,535. Read the Order Beside the Dismissal.

The number is in the signed order. So is the dismissal of the motion that asked the court to revisit spousal support.

The case is Michael Cammenga v. Barry County Circuit Court, Fifth Judicial Circuit; Hon. Vicky L. Alspaugh; and Hon. William M. Doherty, Court of Appeals No. 382046. The judges are sued in their official capacities. Cummings, McClorey, Davis & Acho, PLC represents them, with Allan C. Vander Laan and Kevin J. Campbell named as counsel. The underlying domestic-relations case is No. 2020-233-DO.

Judge Alspaugh’s January 26 order dismisses Cammenga’s October 31, 2024 support-modification filings with prejudice as they relate to October 31, 2024 through January 26, 2026. It then states:

“Furthermore, the Defendant shall not be granted any virtual hearings until he appears in-person on his open bench warrant, or pay his bond in the amount of $281,535.00 cash, which shall be forfeited to the account.”

This wording is verified against the supplied order itself, not merely the defendants’ description.

My objection is to the combination: a substantial financial obligation, a request to change support, an attendance condition tied to a warrant and cash, and dismissal when the litigant does not appear. The court cannot answer the fairness question simply by pointing out that it entered an order.

The Court Explains the Amount. The Accounting Still Matters.

The February 9 reconsideration order states that the $281,535 cash bond represents arrears in spousal support, an unpaid property award, and previously ordered attorney obligations. That identifies the categories behind the amount. It does not provide an itemized ledger or a finding in that order that Cammenga presently could pay the total.

The packet also contains a retirement-plan order directing a $31,111.01 distribution, subject to its terms, toward support arrears. An order directing payment does not establish that payment occurred. The accounting question is whether any distributions or other payments were received and properly credited before the $281,535 was calculated. There is no basis here to subtract that amount automatically or allege double collection.

Barry County should show how a debt-based cash amount became the alternative condition for lifting the video restriction. Identify the account, reconcile the ledger, explain the effect of payment, and identify the assessment of present ability to comply. The fact that obligations were previously ordered does not answer every question about the enforcement method.

Remote for One Side. In Person for the Other.

Cammenga does not even live in Michigan. The filings list an Oklahoma address. Appearing in person entails interstate travel, possible lodging, and time away from ordinary responsibilities, as well as confronting the warrant. The supplied record does not quantify those travel costs.

The January 26 SSA-disclosure order expressly records an in-person hearing “with Plaintiff and her counsel appearing remotely.” It then says Cammenga failed to appear. The attorney-fee order records the same difference.

The February 9 order supplies the court’s reason for requiring him in person: he had an active bench warrant and could not use virtual hearings to avoid appearing on it. It then confirms that the opposing party’s motions were granted and his motion was dismissed for failure to appear.

Different procedural positions can justify different treatment. That does not make this difference self-justifying. The video option worked for the side seeking relief against him. The court withheld it from the person facing the financial demand, then dismissed his support request because he did not appear. That is the documented sequence I find objectionable.

“Just show up” is an awfully convenient answer from an institution that does not have to make the trip. It is especially hard to swallow when the party living in Barry County was permitted to appear remotely while the party living in Oklahoma was required to travel to Michigan. The question is why enforcing the warrant required foreclosing this way of hearing his financial claim, and why the court chose an arrangement that predictably imposed the greater travel burden and financial cost on the person living out of state.

And It Did Not End With the January Hearing.

An April 30, 2026 email from Barry County Trial Court staff makes the continuing effect of the restriction even harder to defend. Responding to Cammenga about motions he had filed in February, Court Services Specialist Stacia Tebo wrote that “The Court will not issue a written order or ruling without an in-person hearing.” The email then instructed him to provide his availability so the court could attempt to coordinate a hearing with opposing counsel.

That matters because this was no longer merely a dispute over whether Cammenga had to appear physically at the January 26 proceeding. Months later, the court was still conditioning rulings on pending motions on his physical attendance. Cammenga was living in Oklahoma and represented that the trip was roughly 1,100 miles and contrary to medical restrictions. The court had already demonstrated that remote participation was technologically available by allowing the Barry County party and her attorney to appear remotely.

So strip away the euphemisms. The local party got the convenience of appearing remotely. The out-of-state litigant was told the court would not even rule on his pending motions unless he came to Michigan. Whatever the court’s stated enforcement rationale, that decision predictably attached transportation, possible lodging, time away from ordinary responsibilities, and other travel costs to his ability to obtain rulings.

The April email is especially important because it undercuts any attempt to characterize the issue as a narrow, one-hearing decision driven solely by the mechanics of the January proceeding. The practical restriction persisted. It reached motions filed afterward. And according to the court’s own communication, even a written ruling was being withheld until Cammenga appeared in person.

In my view, this is an abuse of discretion. Not because courts lack authority to require in-person appearances. They plainly have discretion over the mode of many proceedings. The problem is how that discretion was exercised here: asymmetrically, expansively, and with substantial foreseeable financial consequences for the person geographically farthest from the courthouse. The court’s April communication makes clear that the burden was not confined to one hearing. It had become a continuing condition on obtaining rulings.

The Michigan videoconferencing framework itself directs courts to consider factors that include the convenience of the parties, costs, and whether videoconferencing can increase access to courts. That makes the financial and geographic disparity here relevant to the exercise of discretion, not some collateral complaint about inconvenience.

I do not need to prove what was in the judge’s head to criticize what the court actually did. The documented result is enough: the nearby party was allowed to participate remotely; the Oklahoma litigant was denied that option; his motion was dismissed when he did not appear; and months later court staff told him that pending motions would receive no written ruling without another in-person hearing. That is not a trivial scheduling inconvenience. It is a court-access problem created by the court’s own choices.

The “Privilege” Argument Leaves Out the Hard Part

The answer relies on MCR 2.408(A)’s permissive language. But MCR 2.408(B) presumes video for specified circuit-court matters, including adjournments and postjudgment collection or discovery. MCR 2.407(B)(5) permits in-person proceedings while requiring consideration of listed factors and reasons when overriding a video presumption. That framework makes the type of hearing and the court’s reasoning essential.

These principles were already part of the Supreme Court’s 2022 remote-proceedings amendments. They are not a new standard invented after this dispute.

None of this establishes that Cammenga’s show-cause hearing belonged in a presumptively remote category. Trials and proceedings involving evidence receive different treatment, and a warrant or contempt finding may matter to the analysis. The orders establish the restriction and the court’s enforcement rationale; the hearing record is still needed to assess the full analysis.

The defect in the answer’s explanation is the shortcut: cite discretion, label access a privilege, and act as though the public’s next question has disappeared. It hasn’t. Why this restriction, across “any virtual hearings,” on these terms?

The Reasoning That Deserves to Be Taken Apart

1. Turning a relevant factor into a complete answer

The defense brief goes beyond the answer. It expressly cites MCR 2.407(C)(6), which concerns whether physical liberty or another fundamental interest is at stake. Counsel argues that possible incarceration supported requiring attendance in person. That is a real argument and must be acknowledged.

But a factor to consider is not an automatic prohibition. The brief still needs to explain the breadth of “any virtual hearings” and why warrant enforcement required dismissal of the support motion rather than a workable way to hear it. The existence of discretion does not establish that this exercise of it was fair.

2. Loading the conclusion into the description

The defendants say the court had no duty to “indulge Plaintiff Cammenga’s efforts to circumvent the consequences of his contempt.” That description treats the video request as evasion before explaining why participation and enforcement could not coexist.

The missed appearance gives the court a real enforcement concern. It does not, by itself, settle the necessity or scope of the video restriction. Calling the request an indulgence supplies a judgment about the litigant. The public still needs the reasoning about the procedure.

3. Calling dismissal an answer to the access problem

The defendants cite the support ruling as evidence that the court continued administering justice. The actual order establishes a dismissal with prejudice for the specified period, and the reconsideration order identifies nonappearance as the reason. It does not establish a decision evaluating the merits of the requested support change.

A dismissal can close a motion without answering the problem it raised. Treating that closure as sufficient proof of meaningful access is the non sequitur. Cammenga’s application also says he asked for disposition on the papers. That request alone did not compel a paper ruling: MCR 2.119(E)(3) gives courts discretion to limit or dispense with oral argument. But it identifies an alternative the court should be able to explain rejecting.

4. Mistaking a procedural victory for vindication

The defendants’ appeal argument may defeat this action. It would not, without a ruling on the underlying restriction, establish that the restriction was wise, proportionate, or a good use of institutional power. A dismissed lawsuit is not automatically a certificate of excellent government.

The Brief’s Medical Argument Is Particularly Ugly.

The defense describes the procedure as “merely” implantation of a spinal-cord stimulator. It says the discharge instructions did not establish an inability to attend because they restricted heavy work, sports, or vigorous activity, whereas the hearing merely required him to appear.

There are two different propositions here. Documentation can be insufficient to prove a claimed limitation. That does not make it affirmative medical clearance for interstate travel and court attendance. “Court is not a sport” is not a medical assessment. A person’s ability to sit, travel, manage pain, and attend after a procedure cannot be established by counsel’s choice of the word “merely.” The supplied packet does not contain the complete medical evidence, so I am not determining his fitness to travel.

The February 9 order says the adjournment was denied because of how long the hearing had been scheduled. It also records earlier scheduling accommodation for his wife’s procedure. That accommodation belongs in the account. But advance notice of a date does not resolve a later claim of medical inability to attend. The duration of the scheduling notice and the adequacy of the medical evidence require different answers.

Disclosure Demands Kept Moving While His Support Motion Was Dismissed.

The January 26 SSA order requires signed releases and threatens exclusion of evidence concerning his medical history or mental or physical condition if he does not comply. A separate Legal & General America order requires a release within 24 hours of the electronic request and provides for a continuing adverse inference about disability claims if he fails to sign.

Medical discovery can be proper when someone puts a condition at issue, and MCR 2.314(B)(2) provides consequences for blocking otherwise discoverable medical information by asserting privilege. The issue is the scope, relevance, process, and proportionality of these particular orders—not a supposed absolute right to withhold every record.

Cammenga argues that dismissal of his support motion left no live basis for these disclosures. The orders expressly state that other matters remained unresolved, so that conclusion does not follow from dismissal alone. What is established is the sequence: his support request was dismissed, while disclosure demands and their consequences continued. Barry County should explain why that combination was necessary and fair.

His Litigation History Does Not Answer Every New Objection.

The brief recounts prior contempt findings, noncompliance, discovery disputes, and adverse credibility findings. These are relevant to the court’s enforcement concerns. The packet also includes a January 26 order imposing $954.50 in sanctions for frivolous positions and nonexistent case law. That sanction is payable to the opposing party’s counsel; it is not CMDA’s defense bill.

But the brief’s account of marital fault and its repeated contemptuous adjectives cannot substitute for explaining the challenged procedure. Prior misconduct can be relevant without making every later objection wrong. A court’s obligation to use a fair process does not depend on finding the litigant likable.

This Is Squarely in Line With What Multiple Litigants Say About Alspaugh’s Court.

There is a broader reason this record bothers me. It tracks a complaint I have now heard from multiple litigants about Judge Vicky Alspaugh’s courtroom: that she chooses a side early, decides who she believes is the problem, and then pummels the other side through the remainder of the case. That is a reported allegation from litigants, not a judicial finding, and this case by itself does not prove a courtroom-wide pattern. But the documented sequence here gives that allegation something concrete to test.

By this point, Alspaugh plainly had an unfavorable view of Cammenga. The record includes contempt findings, discovery disputes, sanctions, adverse credibility findings, and allegations of repeated noncompliance. Those facts can legitimately matter. What they cannot become is a substitute for independently evaluating every new request he makes. Once a judge concludes that one litigant is the problem, procedural neutrality matters more, not less.

And the remote-hearing disparity makes that question especially difficult to ignore. The person Alspaugh permitted to appear remotely was the party living in Barry County. The person she required to appear physically was living in Oklahoma. The local party and her attorney were allowed to use the court’s video technology. The out-of-state litigant was told he could not have “any virtual hearings” unless he physically appeared on the warrant or paid $281,535 cash.

That matters because the practical burden did not fall evenly. For the local litigant, remote participation eliminated a trip within the county. For Cammenga, an in-person requirement meant interstate travel from Oklahoma to Michigan, with the associated transportation, possible lodging, time, and expense, on top of the prospect of confronting the outstanding warrant when he arrived. The court therefore extended the convenience of remote participation to the person geographically closest to the courthouse while withholding it from the person for whom physical attendance carried the greatest practical and financial burden.

I cannot establish from these orders that Alspaugh’s subjective purpose was specifically to inflict travel costs on Cammenga, and I will not pretend the record proves a motive it does not. What the record does establish is the result: her decision imposed those additional costs on the out-of-state litigant while sparing the local party from even having to make the shorter trip to the same courthouse. If the court believed that disparity was necessary to enforce the warrant, then that necessity deserves a much fuller explanation than calling remote participation a “privilege.”

That distinction is important because the January 26 order was not narrowly limited to one show-cause hearing at which the court believed physical custody might become relevant. It prohibited Cammenga from receiving “any virtual hearings” until he appeared on the warrant or paid the $281,535 cash amount. The breadth of that prohibition is what makes the sequence look less like an ordinary scheduling decision and more like leverage.

Then look at what followed. Cammenga did not appear. His support-modification request was dismissed with prejudice for the specified period. The opposing party’s matters continued. Disclosure obligations against him continued. And Barry County’s outside attorneys now defend the arrangement by describing remote participation as an “indulgence” that would have allowed him to “circumvent the consequences of his contempt.”

This is precisely where the recurring allegation about Alspaugh’s courtroom becomes relevant to my reporting. The question is not whether Cammenga was an easy litigant. The record gives plenty of reasons to conclude he was not. The question is whether, once Alspaugh formed that view of him, his conduct became the organizing premise for later decisions instead of one factor among many.

Was his request to participate remotely evaluated independently? Why did enforcement of one warrant justify barring him from all virtual hearings? Why could the local party participate remotely while the out-of-state party could not? Could the court have preserved enforcement of its warrant while still hearing his financial claims? Were less costly alternatives actually considered? And when his support request was dismissed because he did not physically appear, did the attendance requirement become a mechanism for avoiding the merits of a claim brought by a litigant the court had already decided was the problem?

A difficult litigant does not become a litigant without procedural rights. A contempt finding does not make every subsequent request illegitimate. An adverse credibility determination does not answer the next motion before it is filed. And judicial discretion should not become progressively harsher simply because a court has lost patience with one side.

This case alone cannot establish that Alspaugh routinely chooses a side and pummels the other. Establishing that pattern requires comparing records across cases, not simply repeating what dissatisfied litigants say. But when multiple litigants describe that same experience and a documented case presents a sequence consistent with it, the allegation deserves examination rather than dismissal. That examination is now part of this investigation.

A Court Can Exercise Power by Refusing to Decide.

There is another part of this record that should not be treated as administrative clutter: the unresolved motions themselves. Cammenga’s January 23 consolidated filing did not present one vague grievance. It asked the court for a series of specific rulings, including relief concerning the bench warrant and cash bond, the QDRO, medical-record orders, spousal support, garnishment, an adjournment or remote appearance, and access to the January hearing audio.

Those requests matter because, according to the docket review for this article, these remain open items rather than adjudicated motions. Then came the April 30 communication from Barry County Trial Court staff: the court would not issue a written order or ruling on Cammenga’s February motions without an in-person hearing.

That turns judicial inaction into part of the access problem. A court does not exercise power only when it grants a motion, denies a motion, imposes a sanction, or signs an order. It also exercises enormous practical power when an issue remains unresolved while the consequences surrounding that issue continue to operate.

This is particularly troubling here because the January filing expressly requested remote participation as an alternative to adjournment and put the court on notice of the claimed medical restrictions and geographic burden. It also challenged the warrant, bond, garnishment, support treatment, discovery orders, and other consequences Cammenga said were actively affecting him. The court therefore was not unaware that he was asking for decisions on concrete matters with continuing financial and procedural consequences.

And this is where another recurring criticism I have encountered about Judge Alspaugh’s court becomes relevant. Litigants have described a pattern in which issues the court does not want to confront simply do not get decided, while other parts of the case continue moving and producing consequences. That allegation requires case-by-case proof. In Cammenga’s case, however, we can identify the questions presented, examine the docket for corresponding rulings, and compare that record with the April 30 statement that there would be no written ruling without an in-person hearing.

That is not a minor distinction. A denial creates a ruling that can be examined and, where permitted, challenged. An unresolved motion can leave a litigant stuck between an ongoing consequence and the absence of a decision to attack. Courts should not be able to make meaningful review harder simply by declining to reach the issue.

This concern also extends beyond Cammenga. I am examining another Alspaugh matter involving allegations that a man was incarcerated while the court ordered liquidation of farm and other assets, including liquidation connected to payment of his wife’s attorney, despite a claimed bankruptcy-court protection over estate property. I am not treating those allegations as established findings in this article until the relevant bankruptcy and circuit-court orders are placed side by side. But the case is relevant to the pattern question: how does this court use incarceration, financial pressure, control over property, and the timing—or absence—of rulings when one party has fallen out of favor?

The answer needs to come from orders and dockets across cases. If the other matter shows that liquidation was authorized despite an operative bankruptcy protection, that deserves its own reporting and legal analysis. If the bankruptcy record shows otherwise, that matters too. The point here is not to smuggle an unverified second case into the findings about Cammenga. It is to identify a recurring institutional question that can now be tested against multiple records.

Judicial discretion is not judicial immunity from explanation. Neither is docket silence. When a court’s choices impose financial consequences, restrict participation, or leave significant requests unresolved, the public is entitled to ask not only what the judge decided, but what the judge refused to decide and what happened to the litigant in the meantime.

“He Did Not Appeal” Needs a Much More Precise Explanation.

The procedural defense remains serious. Under MCR 3.302, superintending control cannot replace an available appeal or another adequate remedy. The defendants contend that Cammenga appealed other rulings but omitted the January 26 video restriction.

The supplied February application expressly challenges unequal remote participation, denial of remote access, refusal to entertain filings, and the $281,535 condition. The January 26 order containing the video restriction is in the same packet. Its emergency-stay motion expressly refers to that order and the forfeiture language.

That makes a broad suggestion that he simply declined to seek appellate review incomplete. It does not settle whether he properly designated this particular order, preserved the issue, or satisfied filing requirements. The defense identifies a February 13 application; this packet’s application and fax cover are dated February 16. A fax to a trial-court clerk is not proof of what the appellate clerk accepted. The accepted application, docket, and any deficiency notices must resolve the discrepancy.

The brief also quotes his later superintending-control complaint as conceding the warrant’s legality while challenging the in-person condition. His February application challenges the warrant itself. Those are distinct proceedings and theories; they cannot be collapsed into one. The complete later complaint remains necessary.

What the Three Claimed Rulings Actually Show

This record supports criticism of dismissal and restricted access. It does not support saying that no written rulings exist. Cammenga’s contention is that his substantive issues were not meaningfully addressed. That is the claim to test against the motions and orders.

Chief Judge Doherty’s role still needs its own documentation. The answer calls Cammenga’s request for review inappropriate, but the actual request and response have not been supplied.

The CMDA-Gadola Connections Deserve Their Own Look.

There is another relationship I am examining rather than assuming away: connections between CMDA and the Gadola legal and judicial network. A professional connection, prior appearance, financial relationship, political relationship, or other association does not by itself establish favoritism, bias, or an improper conflict. But when procedural treatment itself is part of the story, those relationships are relevant facts to document rather than ignore.

That matters here because Chief Judge Michael F. Gadola signed the May 22 order dismissing Cammenga’s related appeal for failure to timely pay the entry fee. Elsewhere in this litigation, CMDA represents the Barry County court defendants. I am now interested in a straightforward comparison: what happens when a litigant misses a procedural requirement, and what happens when government defense counsel does?

CMDA’s filings give that question something measurable. Filing dates, deadlines, extensions, defects, corrective filings, acceptance of late material, and consequences can all be compared against the treatment of litigants appearing against government defendants. That comparison matters especially where the defense asks an appellate court to dispose of a case on procedural grounds while its own procedural shortcomings, weak inferences, or late filings appear to draw little or no consequence.

I am not going to infer favoritism merely from a relationship, and I am not going to claim that a CMDA-Gadola connection caused a filing to be accepted without evidence tying the two together. But neither am I going to treat those connections as irrelevant if the record ultimately shows materially different procedural grace for connected institutional counsel than for the people challenging the institutions they represent.

The way to answer that question is with records, not insinuation. For each disputed CMDA filing, the relevant facts are concrete: What was the deadline? When was the filing actually received? Was an extension requested before the deadline? Was it granted? Was the filing defective? Was correction permitted? Which judge or panel handled it? What consequence followed? Then ask the same questions about Cammenga and other litigants whose matters were rejected, dismissed, or otherwise affected by procedural noncompliance.

The same discipline applies to the connections themselves. They should be identified precisely: who is connected to whom, in what capacity, during what period, and whether the relationship bears on the matter before the court. A connection is not proof of preferential treatment. Unequal treatment is not proof that a connection caused it. But a documented connection plus a documented disparity is absolutely a reason to investigate whether the system is applying its rules consistently.

If CMDA received ordinary treatment available to any similarly situated party, the docket should demonstrate that. If its filings were actually timely or covered by extensions, the record should demonstrate that too. But if the comparison shows that CMDA’s procedural mistakes were forgiven while litigants challenging Barry County encountered strict enforcement for comparable failures, then the public deserves an explanation for the difference.

This is especially important because procedural enforcement is already central to the defendants’ argument against Cammenga. They contend that the path he chose, the orders he appealed, and the requirements he satisfied or failed to satisfy can defeat his present action without reaching the underlying fairness of the virtual-hearing restriction. A party relying heavily on procedural rules invites scrutiny of whether those same rules are applied with equal rigor to everyone in the case.

So this investigation now includes another accounting alongside the money: an accounting of procedural grace. Who gets an extension? Who gets a correction? Who gets a late filing accepted? Who gets dismissed? And when the answers differ, what legitimate procedural distinction explains the difference?

The Chief Judge Is Not an Appellate Judge. He Is Still Responsible for Administration.

Barry County’s defense characterizes Cammenga’s request for Chief Judge William M. Doherty’s intervention as “neither substantively nor procedurally appropriate.” Michigan law requires a more precise discussion than that.

MCR 8.110 does not make a chief judge an appellate court for every complaint about another judge. In In re Pobanz, the Michigan Court of Appeals expressly rejected the proposition that MCR 8.110(C) requires a chief judge to address every grievance against the court. So the argument here is not that Doherty had a duty to personally review and reverse every ruling Cammenga challenged.

But that is only half of the rule. MCR 8.110 gives the chief judge administrative superintending power and control over the judges of the court and court personnel. The rule assigns the chief judge responsibility for court administration, including supervision of caseload management and judicial work and responsibility for effecting the court’s compliance with applicable court rules and law. Michigan Supreme Court precedent has also recognized the breadth of a chief judge’s administrative authority.

That distinction matters enormously here. Cammenga’s complaints are not limited to “Judge Alspaugh ruled against me.” The record raises questions about motions remaining unresolved, access to rulings being conditioned on physical attendance, dramatically different treatment of remote participation, the handling of requests for court action, and the continued operation of financial and procedural consequences while issues remain pending.

Barry County’s unified trial-court structure makes that responsibility particularly difficult to wave away. The structure operates under the direction of the Chief Judge. That does not authorize Doherty to simply substitute his preferred ruling for Alspaugh’s in an individual case. It does mean that questions about how the institution manages judicial work, court access, compliance with rules, and recurring administrative practices fall squarely within the territory MCR 8.110 assigns to a chief judge.

And that creates a much better question than whether Doherty was required to “overrule” Alspaugh: What did the Chief Judge do with the administrative problems being placed in front of him?

Did he examine whether motions were being left unresolved? Did he determine whether the court’s remote-hearing practices were being administered consistently? Did he address complaints that litigants were unable to obtain rulings? Did he distinguish between issues that required appellate review and issues involving administration of the court itself? Did he refer any matter elsewhere? Did anything change?

I have yet to identify a documented instance in the matters I have reviewed in which Doherty intervened to correct the kinds of administrative problems being raised about Alspaugh’s court. That is an investigative finding to test, not a claim that no such intervention has ever occurred. The appropriate next step is to examine complaints and requests presented to Doherty, his responses, any referrals or administrative action, and what happened afterward.

The distinction protects the reporting from an easy dodge. Barry County can correctly point out that the Chief Judge is not a substitute appellate court. Fine. Then answer the question that actually belongs to the Chief Judge: who is administering this court when the alleged problem is the way the court itself is operating?

The Appellate Fee Orders Belong in This Story, Too

In the related domestic-relations appeal, No. 379474, the Court of Appeals denied a fee waiver on March 31, 2026 after finding the financial affidavit showed ability to pay. It required $1,900 for four challenged orders and associated motions. On May 22, Chief Judge Michael F. Gadola dismissed that application for failure to pay the entry fee timely, without prejudice to other relief available under the rules. These were appellate actions, not rulings by the Barry County judges.

That dismissal establishes a failed attempt to obtain review, not a merits ruling approving the challenged conduct. It also does not establish that nonpayment resulted from inability: the fee-waiver finding went against him. Whether the accepted application encompassed the specific video restriction remains to be checked.

On August 25, 2026, Court of Appeals Judge Mark T. Boonstra denied Cammenga’s fee-waiver motion after finding that the motion showed an ability to pay. The order required a $375 entry fee and a $25 electronic filing fee within 21 days of certification, warning of dismissal for noncompliance. On September 15, reconsideration was denied and payment was required within seven days of certification.

Those orders concern $400 in appellate fees. They do not establish an ability to pay $281,535, and neither decides the merits of the virtual-hearing condition. For No. 382046, the materials reviewed do not establish subsequent payment or dismissal; the May dismissal described above concerns the separate No. 379474 appeal. Both the adverse fee finding and its limited scope belong in an honest account.

This Fits the Pattern I’ve Been Reporting in Mark Foley’s Case.

I do not see Cammenga’s dispute in isolation. I see a continuation of the institutional response I have been criticizing in Mark Foley’s case and in my reporting on Barry County’s court access, service, and recordkeeping problems: people struggle to establish what the court did, obtain the records, or challenge the result, while the institution defends its handling of the process.

In my reporting on the amicus brief I filed in Mark Foley’s case, I explained my objection to using inferred knowledge of an order as an answer to disputed service. I also described my separate experience with filings disappearing from a circuit-court docket and later reappearing after I produced delivery records. Those are reported concerns about whether the record reliably documents what happened and whether people receive the information needed to respond.

My follow-up reporting on a newly visible docket entry asked for the electronic history needed to establish when an order was actually entered and made visible. The timing raised a question requiring records; it did not, by itself, prove manipulation. A docket date and an explanation of the entry’s history are different things.

These matters involve different records and legal questions. Evidence in one does not prove misconduct in another. My broader criticism is that Barry County keeps giving people reasons to fight over the basic machinery of court access—notice, reliable records, and a meaningful opportunity to respond. Those basics should work before a person has to pursue another layer of review.

That is why the expense matters to me. When an institution’s response to recurring access and recordkeeping concerns is another legal defense, residents should ask what was done to investigate and correct the underlying problems. I want to see the work that made the process fairer before residents get stuck financing a nonstop string of fights over it.

Now Show Us the Other Bill.

The bond is one number. The cost of defending the restriction is another.

CMDA’s appearance establishes representation. It does not tell us its hourly rates, hours, expenses, whether a flat fee applies, who retained it, or whether the county, a risk pool, an insurer, or another source pays. Two named attorneys do not establish duplicate billing.

I cannot responsibly tell you Barry County has wasted a particular dollar amount from a document containing no invoices. I can show how quickly assumed legal work adds up, and what portion would be avoidable under assumptions you can change. The records should replace those assumptions.

My Position: This Is a Wasteful Way to Govern.

My position is that Barry County is wasteful when it pours time, legal work, and public resources into defending unfair treatment instead of getting the treatment right in the first place. In plain English: I think too much institutional effort goes into screwing people over and then defending the result. Fairness should be part of the original decision, not something people have to fight through another court to obtain.

That is my editorial judgment about the approach on display here. The defendants repeatedly defend the court’s discretion and characterize remote participation as an indulgence. What their answer and brief do not supply, in my judgment, is a convincing explanation of why this sweeping appearance-or-payment condition was necessary. I find that priority indefensible: an institution should be at least as serious about explaining how it treats people as it is about defending its authority to do so.

Waste includes the institutional time consumed by an avoidable fight, the work people must do to challenge a decision, and the public resources that could have served a better purpose. Those costs matter even before an invoice gives part of them a dollar amount. The people living through the dispute pay in time and disruption, too.

I regard defending an unnecessarily harsh process as a failure of stewardship. Winning a procedural argument would not change that judgment about a process shown to be unnecessary or unfair. It would mean the defendants won that procedural argument.

Financial Pressure Is Part of the Problem.

My criticism of Barry County goes beyond the legal bill. I see a recurring willingness to put people in financially punishing positions and then frame their struggle to comply as a problem with the person. When an institution imposes a financial demand someone cannot realistically meet and then escalates the consequences of nonpayment, I regard that as financial coercion. Calling the demand a bond or putting it in a court order does not answer whether it is justified, achievable, or fair.

In Cammenga’s case, the February 9 order identifies the debt categories behind $281,535 but does not itemize them or make a present-ability finding. His application says he cannot pay; that assertion is not independently verified by the packet. The defendants identify his failure to appear as the reason for the warrant; that is different from a finding that he was punished simply for being unable to pay. Those distinctions make the missing explanation more important: how were the obligations and credits calculated, what would payment accomplish, and what workable options exist for someone who cannot produce it?

My concern is that this approach can function as a modern-day debtors’ prison: money becomes the practical dividing line between freedom and confinement. When someone cannot realistically pay, using confinement or its threat to demand cash can feel like holding that person for ransom. That is my criticism of the coercive dynamic, not a claim that this filing establishes the crime of ransom-taking.

This concern belongs alongside the recurring court-access and enforcement problems I have reported in other Barry County matters. But each arrest, payment condition, and claimed inability to pay must be documented on its own. The supplied documents do not establish that Cammenga was arrested under this warrant. His stay motion claims that he faces detention unless he can post the cash amount; the packet establishes the warrant and financial condition, not every possible release decision.

The defense’s own brief quotes the civil-contempt principle that sanctions can terminate upon compliance or inability to comply. That distinction appears in Michigan appellate authority as well. It makes the unanswered question about present ability central to the criticism, rather than something a list of unpaid obligations can resolve on its own.

The question Barry County should have to answer is concrete: how does the court distinguish someone who refuses to comply from someone who cannot afford to comply? If the financial demand is beyond a person’s means, escalating the consequences does not make the money appear. It can turn an obligation into a trap—and the court should have to explain how its process prevents that outcome.

A choice written on paper can still be an impossible choice in practice. An out-of-state litigant’s circumstances deserve examination before the institution treats the existence of two listed options as a complete answer to an access problem.

Now Put an Accounting Behind the Criticism.

The public should demand a comparison between the cost of this defense and the cost of a lawful, workable resolution of the access dispute. Whether such a resolution could have avoided litigation, and on what terms, remains unanswered. Cammenga’s own procedural choices may also have generated costs.

My position is clear; the accounting still needs to be established. The available filings do not tell us the total spent, the county’s share, or how much a different approach would have saved. Those are the figures I want documented: which costs were necessary, which were avoidable, who authorized them, and who ultimately bears them.

An insurer’s involvement would change that accounting. It would not establish a dollar-for-dollar taxpayer loss, a premium increase, or a free defense. Get the policy, deductible or retention, payment records, and any reimbursement terms before calculating the county’s share.

The county and its court defendants should be able to provide an intelligible account of those arrangements. “Our lawyers are handling it” is not a budget explanation.

The Records That Would End the Guesswork

• The restriction and its basis: the complete contempt and hearing record, itemized calculation and credits behind $281,535, identity of “the account,” and the effect of payment. The supplied January 26 and February 9 orders establish part of this history.
• The access dispute: the complete superintending-control complaint and defense appendix, accepted February appellate filings and notices, full motion packages and hearing transcripts, register of actions, and the request to Doherty with any response. The defense brief and several underlying orders have been reviewed.
• The legal bill: engagement terms, case-specific invoices, hours, rates, expenses, payments, balances, and authorization for representation in No. 382046.
• The payer: insurance or risk-pool terms, defense-cost allocation, applicable deductible or retention, and reimbursements.
• The broader spending: CMDA payments across 2024–2026, separated by matter so unrelated cases are not charged to this dispute.

These are records to obtain, not records this article claims have already been requested or withheld. No separate response to this article has been obtained; the defendants’ answer and opposition brief supply their position here.

Barry County: Explain the Restriction. Produce the Accounting.

A court needs authority to enforce its orders. The people subject to that authority deserve a coherent explanation of how it is exercised. Taxpayers deserve an equally coherent explanation of what defending those decisions costs.

So explain the amount. Explain the account. Explain why the condition reaches “any virtual hearings.” Produce the reasoning and the spending records.

Barry County: fix your shit. If this restriction was justified, the explanation should survive more than repetition of the word “privilege.” If defending it is a necessary expense, show the expense and explain the necessity. The public deserves enough information to distinguish responsible enforcement from an avoidable institutional mess.