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Tom McDonald, FOIArkansas Project

BENTON — Johnny McMahan says “the worst thing that can happen to anyone has already happened to me.”

“I wake up every night ...” He hesitates, as though opting not to go into too much detail. “Every night.”

McMahan is referring to the death of his son, his namesake, Johnny McMahan III, who went into cardiac arrest on the campus of Benton Middle School on April 23, 1998. He was resuscitated some minutes later but never regained consciousness, then was pronounced dead four days later at Arkansas Children’s Hospital. He was 12.

McMahan, 48, since has become a thorn in the side of the Benton School District’s Board of Education. He says the tragedy opened his eyes to how the district really operates.

After a preliminary autopsy report gave “no medical reason” for his son’s cardiac arrest, McMahan says, he started asking questions in an effort to figure out how this healthy, athletic boy could have died so suddenly.

It didn’t take long before school officials closed the door on his inquiries, he says, and that — coupled with other parents’ complaints about how the district had handled their concerns — led him to conclude that Benton School District officials were not being open to the patrons.

McMahan found an ally in Pat Roberts, 41, a friend who also had grown frustrated with district officials’ response to his own set of parental concerns.

Together, they’ve become a force to contend with — especially after the school board usurped a district policy and apparently violated the state Freedom of Information Act on graduation day last May.

The board voted in a telephone poll, without giving public notice of a meeting, to allow an unqualified student to participate in the district’s graduation ceremony.

McMahan is no stranger to the FOIA. His name is attached to a state Supreme Court ruling regarding the keeping of public records, specifically, who receives free Razorback football tickets (McMahan vs. Board of Trustees of the University of Arkansas, 1973).

McMahan lost the case but the experience reinforced a strong belief in the FOI law, he says.

So, when Benton’s school board was caught violating the FOIA, McMahan jumped at the chance to expose what he sees as a pattern of secrecy in dealing with district and parental issues.

District officials, however, including Bill McKee, former school board president, and Superintendent Diana Julian, say there is no such pattern.

“I’ve been (on the board) for five years and I know that’s totally false,” McKee said in an interview. McKee declines to comment about McMahan or Roberts’ questions, however, he does deny their accusations that he and other school board members have attempted to shut them out of the process.

Nevertheless, McMahan insists he has indeed been shut out. He admits that his son’s death “probably” made him bitter and “possibly” made him vengeful, but he contends his criticisms are not contrived, but real.

“The standard operating procedure,” for the school board, he says, “is that anybody who questions them is a troublemaker.

“I think they’re trying to run me off. They want me to go away and I won’t go away.” He and his family have moved into the Bryant School District, where his remaining son attends; but he maintains the move is unrelated to the issues he’s confronted in Benton.

Roberts says he has been frustrated in past dealings with the school board and district officials. He cited a difference of opinion over the construction specifications of a high school gymnasium. Roberts and McMahan circulated a petition on the issue.

He believes people’s concerns should be heard.

“The school board lives by a double set of standards. ... If they’re going to legislate, they’ve got to be better role models,” Roberts said.

“Pat told me two or three years ago that the school board is not responsive” to parental concerns, said McMahan, “but I didn’t really listen.” Then McMahan’s son died, he started asking questions and “it hit me like a ton of bricks.”