The city of Manassas Park wants everyone to celebrate its new $35 million Virginia Railway Express parking garage — but it doesn’t want anyone to see what happened inside it just two weeks after the ribbon cutting.
When Potomac Local asked to view photos or reports documenting the vandalism and “donuts” that occurred inside the brand-new garage, the city refused. The Police Department cited an exemption under the Virginia Freedom of Information Act (FOIA), claiming the incident is part of “an active criminal investigation” and that releasing the records would “interfere” with it.
That’s a curious answer for what city officials themselves described publicly as minor mischief.
“Donuts” and damage, but no transparency
During the November 5 Governing Body meeting, City Manager Carl Cole said that after-hours visitors had “pulled all the fire extinguishers off the wall and hosed all the cars down,” and that others were spinning “donuts” in the garage at night. No mention of arrests, serious damage, or danger — just a few “kids” acting out, as Cole put it.
Now, the same city that called the incident minor says the photos can’t be seen because they’re part of an “ongoing investigation.” That disconnect raises questions about what’s really being withheld — the images themselves or the city’s control over its image.
The public built this garage
The new garage is publicly funded, built with more than $35 million in regional, state, and local dollars from agencies like NVTA, DRPT, and VRE — and $700,000 directly from Manassas Park taxpayers. The public owns it, the public paid for it, and the public deserves to see the reality of how it’s being managed.
City leaders say the garage is central to their Park Central downtown redevelopment plan, the “front door” for visitors arriving by train or coming downtown to shop and dine. But first impressions depend on trust — and secrecy breeds suspicion. If the damage is minor, showing it would reinforce that message. If it’s worse than described, residents have every right to know.
When a “criminal investigation” becomes a cover
FOIA exemptions exist for good reasons — to protect victims, witnesses, or sensitive details during real investigations. But they’re also among the most abused parts of Virginia’s open records law. Too often, governments invoke “active investigation” not because a release would jeopardize justice, but because it would embarrass someone in City Hall.
If there’s truly an ongoing case, transparency doesn’t require naming suspects. The city could have released redacted photos, an incident summary, or a statement clarifying the extent of the damage. Instead, it offered nothing but a legal citation.
Openness builds confidence
The irony is that City Manager Cole already said the real problem at the garage was one of public perception and enforcement — a few bad actors testing the limits of a new space. Yet the city’s own secrecy now amplifies the problem it says it’s trying to solve.
Manassas Park has spent years cultivating investor confidence and community pride in its growing downtown. That confidence depends not on polished talking points, but on openness when things go wrong.
City leaders often say the garage is a “symbol of progress.” Progress means more than concrete and steel — it means accountability.
So, show the pictures. Show residents what happened in the garage their taxes built.
Because if there’s one thing worse than vandalism in a public space, it’s a government that treats the truth like private property.
