Lauren Whitehead serves on the Solon City Council.
Earlier this month I toured the Johnson County Sheriff’s Office and Johnson County Jail. In 2026, voters will likely decide on a bond to replace this failing facility, which serves all of Johnson County—including my city of Solon (population 3,000), about ten miles north of Iowa City. I’ve served for eight years as a city councilor and two as mayor pro tem.
What I saw during that visit was disturbing—but what concerns me even more is the growing pattern of political resistance to public safety infrastructure as a whole on the Board of Supervisors. This essay is both a fuller account of what I saw at the jail and a broader commentary on the challenges facing law enforcement, infrastructure, and rural governance in Johnson County today.
FEET AND FECES
I went into my tour expecting the jail to look run down, like an old school building with aging pipes and HVAC issues. I knew it was crowded and expected to see evidence of that. Mostly, I thought it would be a tour of a facility that’s just too expensive to run as-is—and that’s why we need a new jail.
I suppose I was naïve. I hadn’t thought through—like many of us haven’t—how fundamental infrastructure determines the line between humane and inhumane. When you connect a long list of inadequate conditions to real human outcomes, neglecting this building becomes more than poor planning or leadership; it becomes a moral failing.
“Feet and feces,” the sheriff said as we squeezed into the elevator to the second floor. “That’s what it usually smells like.” We had toured the downstairs staff spaces—crowded, leaking ceilings, no room for growth. That matched my expectations.
But upstairs was different. We were lucky that day: instead of the usual smell, the air was musty and dank, but tolerable. Due to ventilation problems, circulation is practically non-existent. This is how people work and live—smelling feet and feces, all day every day.
Hallways are narrow, crowded with stacked mattresses and laundry carts because there’s no storage. It’s unsafe, but workers and inmates alike have no choice. Not one room in that building is ADA compliant, which means people with disabilities face barriers we can barely imagine.
Laundry and food service happen upstairs too, with a single industrial washer and dryer serving the entire facility (that day, 83 inmates). Deputies rotate laundry in between rounds. Forget meeting rooms for Alcoholics Anonymous or GED classes—they barely have enough space for required legal proceedings.
We peeked into a cell. It’s like TV—a concrete box. Mattresses on metal platforms with scratchy blankets. Because of overcrowding, there can be eight men in a unit built for six. No light, no movement, no air.
What stuck with me was a tiny back corner upstairs, near the showers and changing area. The sheriff showed us a shower, then the adjacent room. It looked like a shower, but with no plumbing. “This is for people who are a danger to themselves,” he said. “It used to be padded, but replacing it was too expensive, so now we have this.” Bare cinder block walls, concrete, and a kindergarten nap mat tossed on the floor.
This can’t continue.
A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE JOHNSON COUNTY JAIL AND BOND EFFORTS
The current Johnson County Jail opened in 1981 and was designed to hold around 46 inmates but later “bunked” to house nearly twice that number, leading to chronic overcrowding and deteriorating conditions. Over the past four, going on five decades, this facility has struggled with outdated infrastructure, safety concerns, and inadequate space to meet the county’s growing needs.
In response, Johnson County residents have twice voted on bond measures to fund a new, modern justice center that would include a new jail. In 2012 and again in 2013, bond referendums aimed at addressing overcrowding and facility failures were proposed. Both measures received majority support—approximately 56 percent approval—but fell short of the 60 percent supermajority required to pass.
Since those failed referendums, the county has faced mounting costs and operational challenges, including spending more than $15 million to house inmates in other counties due to insufficient local jail capacity. Meanwhile, necessary repairs and temporary fixes have strained the current jail, which continues to decline in safety and functionality.
These ongoing issues have reignited debates over funding a new facility, with community engagement efforts underway and the next possible bond vote tentatively planned for 2026. The history underscores a persistent struggle between addressing urgent public safety infrastructure needs and navigating cultural, political, and financial hurdles.
WHAT’S THE PLAN?
To everyone in Johnson County—including our elected leaders—a vote against a bond to replace the jail is, by default, a vote for the status quo. And the current jail is not a solution. Worse, the Board of Supervisors appears to have no coherent short-term strategy for managing the day-to-day realities of law enforcement. Earlier this month, three supervisors voted against reserving one additional juvenile bed in Linn County—raising our total from just three to four beds. That means that every time a juvenile needs placement, we’re left scrambling to find a bed elsewhere, still paying the cost and handling the transport.
We can wish for rehab centers or transitional housing to serve these kids—but those facilities don’t currently exist. And in the meantime, the Board refuses to expand capacity or secure even minimal contingency space. So what, exactly, is the plan? Because refusing to act isn’t a policy.
BEDS: MORE THAN JUST NUMBERS
A major objection some have to the new jail is its size. Under this plan, we would roughly double the number of beds from about 90 to 140 total beds.
140 isn’t an arbitrary number. It is based on a robust study, conducted by a third party and well-respected firm (Shive Hattery) hired by the Board of Supervisors themselves to determine the needs for a growing population and likely projections for the next twenty years. These are statistical trends. Shive Hattery—not the sheriff’s office—arrived at the 140 number based on that study.
Some supervisors have argued that this number is too high, not because the data indicates that a smaller number of beds is more appropriate, but because they subscribe to the belief that “if you build it, they will fill it.” This is not informed decision-making.
PAWNS IN A PROXY WAR?
Supervisor resistance to the new jail is connected to a troubling new pattern of opposition to law enforcement contracts in rural Johnson County.
Most small towns in Johnson County, including Solon, contract with the sheriff’s office for public safety. We are legally and morally obligated to provide this essential service, which we cannot afford to provide on our own. Our contracts specify hours of coverage, and each year, we listen closely to the sheriff’s reports on community stats, challenges, and recommendations for the coming year. Public safety is a major budget priority, and we take this responsibility seriously.
The sheriff’s office handles all service calls for us—falls, domestic disputes, thefts—everything. We share deputies with the rest of rural Johnson County, and it can take up to 40 minutes to get a deputy here. Our volunteer fire station is shared with three other townships. That’s the reality.
Each year, the sheriff recommends adding a few more hours of coverage to address a growing population. Solon usually adds some hours—not always as much as suggested, but as much as we can afford. The Board of Supervisors then approves these contracts, typically to ensure accuracy, not to determine if the contract is worthy or not. But recently, these contracts have come under challenge by some Board of Supervisors members. Towns like Tiffin, Lone Tree, and Hills have faced “No” votes on their contracts. Thankfully, these votes have been in the minority—so far.
The newest county supervisor, Mandi Remington, has yet to vote on one of those contracts. But with board restructuring on the horizon (the state-mandated move to split the county into districts) the future is uncertain. Solon might be told our contract is too large or unnecessary, and our decision, based on expertise and grounded in community need, may be overridden by the Johnson County Supervisors’ judgment of what’s best for our people.
This is an overstep. We need and want deputies in our communities. Do not reject our public safety contracts. When a dog is loose in the neighborhood, a stranger is banging on the door at midnight, or a construction site is being robbed, social workers won’t stop those emergencies. It feels as if the rejection of contracts is more about an ideological stance than it is about meeting the actual needs of our community. And it feels as if the resistance to building an adequate jail comes from that same stance.
THE POWER IMBALANCE IN JOHNSON COUNTY
If the county and city decide to do a joint project, it is likely to be under the law that allows for cities and counties to build joint facilities with just 50 percent+1 of the county-wide vote. As noted earlier, past bonds have reached simple majority both times. A joint project would open the door to solving this problem because it would remove the 60 percent threshold for approving the bond.
The county and city have recently agreed to study a cooperative agreement to do this, but all I can do is implore both parties to make it happen. If either party says no, we’re back to 60 percent. Iowa City councilors could hold the power to make or break this bond for all of us if they refuse to sign on. It’s frustrating when people you can’t even vote for wield such influence.
The key question becomes whether or not the current members of the Board of Supervisors and/or the Iowa City Council will agree to put a 140-bed facility on the ballot. Even if they personally oppose the plan, will they acknowledge that nearly 160,000 residents of Johnson County deserve the right to decide for themselves? And, if a joint facility with the city proves unworkable, the Board still has a responsibility to act.
YOU CAN’T REFORM WHAT YOU ABANDON
My recent Facebook post about the Johnson County Jail compared some board member’s law enforcement policy strategies to MAGA tactics, a provocative comparison that struck a nerve, but one I made for a reason. I believe elected officials have the duty to strengthen, not undermine, the institutions that we’re entrusted to uphold. What I’m seeing is the opposite of that approach.
Public safety is a fundamental pillar of a just democracy. We all deserve to feel safe at home, at school, and in the community. When rural contracts get cut, when our jail is failing, and when policy is based on wishful thinking, our safety is directly undermined. President Barack Obama said in 2014 that “the most fundamental role of government is to keep people safe.” That’s civic duty.
Democrats usually criticize plans to outsource government responsibilities, because they erode accountability and weaken public agencies. Even if we magically eliminate a jail, we must manage people who are in the justice system, so we will have to continue to send them to other counties—an expensive solution in which conditions are unknown. That’s not justice, that’s avoidance.
Underfunding, under resourcing, and ultimately dismantling a core government function—one almost as old as our nation—without a solid long-term plan is irresponsible. This is a “starve the beast” strategy, the same tactic used to ruin public education. Leaders starve the system, then point to the manufactured failure as evidence for elimination of the service.
Ignoring the advice of experts, or dismissing the data, strikes me as putting ideology over evidence, false hope over fact.
We fume when others use these strategies against us.
When chaotic dysfunction ripples from Washington, DC all the way down to city hall, the cleanup lands on local shoulders. I thought we could count on the county to have everyone’s best interests in mind and to uphold the institutions we rely on, but I’m no longer sure that’s true. It’s alarming, and so is my language.
NO SHORTCUTS ON STEWARDSHIP: PLANNING FOR THE LONG HAUL
I cannot imagine being responsible for stewarding taxpayer dollars and deliberately under planning a facility—no matter how unpopular. In Solon, we’re investing in a massive new wastewater treatment plant. It’s costly, and yes, I wish it were cheaper. People are pissed. I wish water conservation efforts could magically cover the gap between what we want to pay and what we have to pay to meet the needs of a growing community. But wishing isn’t planning. Otherwise, we’re saddling a future council, ten or twenty years from now, with an urgent, expensive expansion to meet needs we already knew were coming.
A jail is infrastructure. It’s a facility we’re legally and morally obligated to provide. It must be safe, humane, and adequate for everyone inside. It should be built to meet projected needs for as long as possible. Underbuilding on the hope that social programs will eliminate the need for beds is gambling with future taxpayers’ money.
Bond funds go strictly to building materials and construction—there’s no slush fund for anything else. No absurd perks for the sheriff’s office. The plan adds crucial access to natural light as well as meeting, exercise, and clinical spaces. It will be compliant with the Americans with Disabilities Act. I know my tax dollars will go into a building that addresses the root causes of degrading and inhumane conditions. A better facility can support better policies.
“STAY IN YOUR LANE”
Someone recently said that I should “stay in my lane” on this issue—and honestly, that gave me a real good chuckle. This jail serves my city. The sheriff’s office serves my city. I have a sworn obligation to represent my city’s best interests. I’m a voter, a neighbor, a taxpayer, a friend, and a parent, and if I ever ended up behind bars, that’s exactly where I’d go. So I’m not just in my lane—I’m driving this car. In fact, the future of our jail and overall law enforcement policy is in the “lane” of every citizen in this county.
STEP UP
We need our city and county leaders to move beyond neutrality and actively support this bond and the plan as proposed, specifically in the form of a joint facility with the City of Iowa City. It’s our best chance.
If the Supervisors are unanimously in favor of replacing the Johnson County Jail, that’s fantastic. I look forward to hearing their sustainable, humane, fiscally responsible short term solutions, as well as their open and robust support of the plan as designed with the necessary accommodations to meet the long term needs of this community as determined by experts. They must help their voters understand why it’s necessary and why it matters.
Similarly, Iowa City leaders need to collaborate with the county and sign an agreement so voters can decide with a simple majority—and not get blocked by complicated rules. Encourage leaders on both these boards to collaborate and make an agreement work so we can move forward meeting the public safety needs of the entire county.
Other leaders in JoCo, please step up and speak up.
Voters in JoCo, please speak up.
Friends in the “big three,” please listen to the rest of us and take our experiences and opinions into consideration. We matter just as much as you do, even while we have different needs.
I urge every leader and every resident of Johnson County to understand the facts and support policies and plans that will protect local public safety and uphold human decency now and for the foreseeable future.
Top photo of the Johnson County Jail was published in a Structural Condition Assessment by Axiom Consultants, provided to Johnson County Sheriff Brad Kunkel in June 2024.