Clashes could cost marathon its top sponsor

When Louise Long took over managing the Seattle Marathon nine years ago, the organization was nearly bankrupt, its race course was cramped and it struggled to find big-name supporters. Today, the marathon is a landmark event in a fitness-conscious city.

But during Long's tenure, the nonprofit Seattle Marathon Association has left a trail of angry former employees, board members and beneficiaries. Although Long is admired for her hard work and marketing skills, her abrasive management style and potential conflicts of interest have alienated many.

Now, the marathon's title sponsor — the University of Washington Medical Center — is reviewing its commitment, two years into a four-year contract. Medical-center officials said attorneys are going over the contract's details, including opt-out clauses. A decision could come Friday.

The UW is the event's biggest sponsor. This year, it paid $125,000, an amount that is set to increase to $155,000 in 2009.

The marathon's finances have been called into question as charities benefiting from the run wonder why they work so hard for such scant donations. And at least four board members have quit after their questions about Long's potential conflicts of interest went unanswered. Calls for an audit — one hasn't been done in 37 years of races — have grown louder.

The marathon board continues to back Long.

"We feel no one has done more for running in Seattle than Louise Long," board President John Kokes said. "She took an almost-bankrupt organization and made it into a premier event."

Long said she intends to direct the event at least until her contract expires in two years.

"I'm proud of what I've done for this organization," she said.

Popular event

The Seattle Marathon began modestly in 1970 when a group of 38 friends from the UW decided to hold a race. Today it brings in more than $1 million a year. It is ranked among the top 20 marathons in the country and has more than 13,000 walkers and runners, including those in the half-marathon and more than 2,500 children in the Kids Marathon.

Long, 60, a former triathlete and longtime marathon volunteer, was hired in 1998 to move the event from the Burke-Gilman Trail into downtown Seattle and expand sponsorship. As race director and executive director, she has managed every detail, down to a 37-page timeline for the month leading up to the Thanksgiving-weekend race.

But complaints about Long's management style came to a head after last year's race, when community-relations director Cary Stidham quit and filed for unemployment benefits. In sworn testimony before a judge, Stidham said he could no longer work there because of Long's abusive outbursts. Two other former employees backed up Stidham's story.

The employees told the judge that Long screamed at them daily, calling them "stupid" and flying into rages. They said she described workers as "worthless" and "mentally ill" behind their backs; hurled a telephone against a wall; threw a computer mouse; and kicked file cabinets.

One former employee said she was brought to tears almost every day and feared Long. "I would go to work sick to my stomach," she told the judge, who ruled for Stidham, meaning he was able to get unemployment benefits immediately.

Long, who will be paid between $120,000 and $130,000 this year, received a written reprimand from the board over her treatment of employees. She doesn't deny the accusations, attributing her behavior to a particularly stressful time.

"I paid for my sins," she said.

Kokes acknowledged Long's "salty" language and her management style as a "a little bit rough" but said it's nothing that unusual.

"It happens, and you've got to deal with it," he said.

Calls for an audit

Board members over the past two years became increasingly concerned about the organization's lack of financial transparency.

Of particular concern was Long's private race-timing business, Perfect Time Events. Since 2000, the company has won bids from the marathon board worth between about $20,000 and $25,000 annually. One marathon employee quit her job to run the timing business, which Long said she sold a year ago for $50,000.

Long said Perfect Time never made money and she launched it only because she was tired of hiring out-of-town companies to time the race.

Former employees and board members point out that she has hired marathon workers to simultaneously work at an apartment complex she manages and for a construction business she owns. Long says it's a case of finding good help wherever you can, and that these days, she has trying to avoid such overlap.

She is not the only one with dual roles. Marathon board member and race-award coordinator Vic Owings is also a sales representative for Albrecht & Co., which has a $7,700 annual contract to provide race-award plaques.

Owings said other companies bid for the contract: "It's not a gimme."

Questions about Long's commingling of interests led board member Rick Beatty last year to request all marathon invoices and receipts, and to suggest a full audit be done. Beatty said that when Long became "belligerent" to him and other board members who were asking questions, he quit. Three of the remaining nine board members soon followed.

"Whether you are a $10 corporation or a $10 million corporation, you can bet they do an independent audit. Not having an audit is a recipe for disaster," Beatty said.

Julie Holmes, who also quit the board, said Long was defensive.

"I've always worried about the inference of a conflict of interest with her timing company," said Holmes, a corporate-finance analyst. "I've been to umpteen zillion ethics classes, and they drill into you if there's any inference of anything that doesn't smell right, you have to follow your instincts."

Kokes said the organization was not opposed to an audit but said the cost — about $20,000 — would be tough for the marathon's lean budget. The marathon brought in $1.1 million in its last fiscal year. Labor accounted for about a third of the budget; other major expenses included race shirts, supplies, permits and advertising.

Michael Bisesi, director of the Nonprofit Leadership Program at Seattle University, said it's highly unusual for a million-dollar organization to forgo audits. Most would get one done every second year.

Even the perception of a conflict of interest can be damaging, he said.

"Why put your reputation at risk?" Bisesi said.

Charities' share

The race's charitable beneficiaries have also raised concerns. Last month, many runners were surprised to learn that only money donated over and above race entry fees — about 1 percent of the total — goes to these charities. In 2005, a dispute with that year's beneficiary, Candlelighters Childhood Cancer Foundation of Puget Sound, ended up in the hands of a lawyer. Candlelighters was concerned it was shorted on donations but balked when marathon officials insisted the group would have to pay for an audit if it wanted one. Candlelighters decided not to pursue legal action.

Last year's beneficiary — the Living Legacy Foundation — said its staff of six struggled to provide the required 400 volunteers on race day.

Executive Director Megan Erwin said she told Long that her charity's transplant recipients couldn't stand outside in the cold for long periods and that the number of volunteers required was onerous. But those concerns fell on deaf ears, she said.

After seven months and thousands of dollars recruiting helpers from area schools and compiling a volunteer database, the final check — including some last-minute company gifts — was $18,025.

"To raise such a minimal amount of money for the man-hours and amount of work that went into this just wasn't worth it," Erwin said. "I think I've tried to banish it all from my memory."

This year's beneficiary, the UW Patient & Family Housing Fund, just got its check: $8,346. UW officials said they didn't want to comment on their experience with the marathon association ahead of a meeting Friday.

Kokes said he's tired of trying to help the community when those efforts appear to go unappreciated.

"Frankly, one of the options in front of the board going forward is not to have any beneficiaries at all," he said. "It's caused us nothing but confusion and caused us nothing but trouble."

Nick Perry: 206-515-5639 or nperry@seattletimes.com; Jonathan Martin: 206-464-2605 or jmartin@seattletimes.com