When you walk up to Coral Springs City Hall, it’s hard to miss the massive sun sculpture out front. Painted bright orange and yellow, it beams like Florida sunshine, welcoming everyone who steps inside. Etched on the inside of the sculpture are the words: “Everything Under the Sun.”

That’s Coral Springs’ motto, and it couldn’t have been a more fitting way to open this audit. Because when we’re talking about the First Amendment — the right to speak, record, and hold government accountable — we’re really talking about everything under the sun.

This was meant to be one big video covering Coral Springs City Hall, the police department, the local post offices, and the Northwest Regional Library. But as these things often go, the day’s events reshaped the project. The library footage had enough drama to earn its own release (and if you haven’t seen it yet, you can catch that here). The post office interactions — which include police being called and 911 audio where callers lied — will be next week’s feature.

Today’s story is all about City Hall and the Police Department — two sides of Coral Springs government that, as it turns out, set the bar high for professionalism and transparency.

Checking In at City Hall

The main entrance of Coral Springs City Hall feels more like a corporate lobby than a government office. Off to the left sits a security station manned by an Allied guard. A lot of auditors will tell you Allied Security has a reputation for mishandling First Amendment situations. But this guy? He was polite and professional from the start.

I asked where the building department was, and he told me to head to the “One Stop Shop” through the next door. He even buzzed me in.

Inside, I found myself standing in front of a kiosk that immediately asked for my phone number. That’s where my radar went up. Why should I have to hand over personal info just to access public services? I wasn’t about to feed my data into another system that could open me up to more spam calls.

Instead, I approached the desk, where I met Ashley. She asked my name and what I needed. I explained I wanted records on how many solar permits had been approved in 2025. Before long, an older staff member joined in. She asked clarifying questions — did I only want approvals, or applications too? Residential or commercial? She wasn’t defensive about the camera; she just genuinely wanted to make sure I got the right info.

When I clarified I only wanted approved residential solar permits for 2025, she assured me they could run a report. She even joked that to get the records, they’d need my driver’s license and DNA. We all laughed — it was the kind of good-natured professionalism you hope for in public service.

Ashley handled the request, double-checked the details, and confirmed I could leave my email instead of a phone number. She even made light of being on camera, asking if she looked okay. I told her the viewers were more concerned with how well she did her job than how she looked doing it.

That’s how public service should work: approachable, professional, and transparent.

Same-Day Records

Before I even left the parking lot, I pulled out my phone to check some footage — and there it was. An email from the city with my first records response.

1,305 active employees.

The very same day, I also received the full report of 2025 solar permits. If you’ve ever filed a public records request, you know how rare that is. Too often, governments drag their feet, overcomplicate the process, or try to intimidate requesters. Coral Springs, on the other hand, delivered same-day transparency. That deserves recognition.

Meeting the Deputy City Clerk

Before leaving City Hall, I circled back to the Allied guard and asked about seeing the city clerk. He asked what I needed, and I explained it was for another records request. Right at that moment, a woman called in on the video phone — clearly complaining about me recording.

The guard didn’t flinch. He told her flat-out that I had a right to film in the building. For an Allied guard to stand firm like that is worth noting. I even told him how much I appreciated the way he handled it.

A few minutes later, Deputy City Clerk Aaron came down to meet me. I asked how many employees the city had (which, unbeknownst to me, I’d already gotten the answer to). He explained that requests like that get entered into the city’s JustFOIA system, where I could track progress. I also asked about the immaculate landscaping outside — whether it was done by city employees or contracted out. He said mostly city workers, though sometimes vendors help.

Aaron was polite, professional, and efficient. Nothing more, nothing less.

Walking out of City Hall, I told the camera how smooth the entire process had been. And it really was.

Coral Springs Police Department

Next stop: the Coral Springs Police Department.

Out front, a bronze statue shows a police officer and firefighter with two children between them. Just to the right is a memorial garden for fallen officers. I cracked a quick joke about bronze prices being up but not worth stealing the statue, then made my way inside.

At the front desk, a young woman asked how she could help. I told her I wanted to file a public records request. She asked if I had a case number — I didn’t. She asked what it was related to, and that’s when I told her:

I had noticed an award in their trophy case for February 14, 2018 — the day of the Parkland school shooting.

Remembering Parkland

For context: Coral Springs is right next to Parkland, home of Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. On Valentine’s Day 2018, 17 students and staff members were murdered in one of the deadliest school shootings in U.S. history.

As shots rang out and children bled on the floor, deputies from the Broward Sheriff’s Office — the agency tasked with protecting the school — stayed outside. They didn’t go in. That’s how BSO earned the infamous nickname: “The Cowards of Broward.”

Coral Springs officers, on the other hand, ran in. They passed those hiding deputies and entered the building ready to confront the shooter.

That’s what the award in the trophy case recognized. The inscription read:

“This award is presented to the Coral Springs Police Department in recognition of your agency personnel’s decisive actions and heroic efforts on February 14, 2018, when responding to an active shooter at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. Your courageous and brave actions were instrumental in saving precious lives.”

I told the clerk that my request was for the names and email addresses of the officers who went in that day. She seemed a little uncertain, but she pulled out a notepad and began writing it down.

Filing the Requests

She explained that the main reports were with BSO, but that Coral Springs had supplemental records. Either way, their records department would handle the request. She asked for my email, which I dictated while she wrote it down.

Before leaving, I added one more request: the police blotter from the previous Sunday. She made a note of that too, confirmed everything would be submitted, and told me they’d get back to me.

I thanked her for her time and left the building.

Outside, I reflected on camera: no matter where you live in the U.S., you’ve heard of the Valentine’s Day massacre. And whatever you think of law enforcement, you have to respect the fact that Coral Springs PD ran into that school when others didn’t.

Reflection

This Coral Springs audit was unlike many others I’ve done.

At City Hall, I was met with professionalism, good humor, and transparency — including same-day records responses. At the police department, I filed sensitive requests tied to one of the darkest days in Florida history, and the staff still treated me respectfully.

That’s how government should work. Not with hostility. Not with barriers. But with accountability, professionalism, and openness.

What’s Next

If today’s audit felt calm, buckle up — because next week’s post office audit is where things take a turn. The police were called, 911 audio was pulled, and the callers flat-out lied by saying I was irate. That’s not my style, and the record proves it.

Make sure you’re subscribed so you don’t miss it.

In the meantime, you can also check out the Coral Springs Library audit if you missed it — where a patron tried tattling on me and ended up getting schooled on the First Amendment.

Testing Transparency in the Butterfly Capital of the World

Coconut Creek is famous for butterflies. The city brands itself as the Butterfly Capital of the World, a nickname that conjures up images of quiet neighborhoods, nature preserves, and delicate wings drifting through the South Florida breeze. But I wasn’t there for butterflies — I was there for transparency.

For this audit, I set out to visit a string of public locations across Coconut Creek: City Hall, the city commission, the police department, the community center, and the library. The goal was simple: test how each location responds to the public’s right to record. Would Coconut Creek live up to its welcoming reputation, or would the camera stir up resistance behind those polished government doors?

First Stop: City Hall — The Heart of Local Government

City Hall is where it all begins. The building houses not just the city’s administrative offices but also serves as a hub for residents paying water bills, pulling permits, or asking questions about city services.

Walking inside, the atmosphere was calm but professional. The employees behind the counters looked up, saw the camera, and seemed unsure for a moment — but no one told me to stop recording. That’s the first sign of a healthy government: understanding that the public has a right to document what happens inside publicly accessible areas.

I asked about recent commission meeting minutes, a standard public records request. Under Florida Statutes Chapter 119, public agencies are required to provide these records upon request. The staff acknowledged the request without hesitation, which was a good sign. Not every city responds that way, and I’ve run into plenty of places where even asking for a meeting agenda triggers defensiveness.

The fact that Coconut Creek staff didn’t flinch here set the tone. Transparency didn’t seem like just a buzzword — at least not in this department.

The City Commission — Where Policy Meets People

Right next door, the commission chambers sit ready for public meetings. This is the arena where policy gets debated, budgets are approved, and residents can voice concerns directly to their elected officials.

Even when the chambers are empty, the symbolism is powerful. These seats aren’t just for politicians — they’re for the public. Filming inside, I couldn’t help but wonder how many residents actually show up on commission night. In many cities, the chairs remain empty except for a handful of civic diehards. But in Coconut Creek, the chambers felt welcoming, with seating designed for community participation.

I’ve always believed an empty chamber tells a story just as loudly as a full one. Either residents feel disconnected from their government, or they trust it enough to stay home. Which one is true here? That’s a question only Coconut Creek locals can answer.

Coconut Creek Police Department — Protectors or Gatekeepers?

From City Hall, I moved on to the police department. Police stations are always interesting stops during audits because reactions vary wildly. Some officers know the law and treat recording as routine. Others see the camera as a challenge to authority.

The Coconut Creek Police Department lobby was clean, orderly, and relatively quiet. As I recorded, I observed how staff responded. This time, there were glances, but no directives to turn off the camera. That may not sound dramatic, but trust me, it matters. In other Florida cities, I’ve had officers threaten trespassing, demand ID without cause, or even put hands on me.

Here, none of that happened. Instead, the staff stayed professional. That’s what I call a “walk of honor” moment — when law enforcement remembers that transparency is part of the job, not a threat to it.

Community Center — Where Government Meets Daily Life

Next on the list was Coconut Creek’s community center. These spaces are where residents gather for recreation, classes, and local events. It’s less about policy and more about daily life.

Filming inside, I found the staff approachable and the environment relaxed. It felt like a true community hub, with residents walking in and out for activities. This is where transparency often gets overlooked — not because there’s anything secret going on, but because people forget these are still public facilities. The right to record doesn’t stop at City Hall; it extends to every taxpayer-funded space.

No pushback here, either. If anything, staff seemed curious rather than concerned.

The Library — A Different Kind of Public Space

Finally, I visited the library. Libraries are fascinating audit locations because they represent both knowledge and privacy. People come here to read, study, or use computers, and staff often walk a fine line between respecting individual patrons and recognizing that the building itself is public.

In Coconut Creek, the library was quiet, with staff moving about their duties. When they noticed the camera, there was a hint of hesitation, but no confrontation. That’s exactly how it should be. Recording in public doesn’t mean capturing private details of what someone is reading — it means documenting how the institution functions.

And here, it functioned smoothly.

Coconut Creek’s Track Record on Transparency

So what did I learn from putting Coconut Creek to the test?

Overall, the city handled itself well. At every stop — City Hall, the commission chambers, the police department, the community center, and the library — I was able to record without being unlawfully restricted. Employees were cautious at times, but no one overstepped the bounds of the law.

That doesn’t mean Coconut Creek is perfect. Transparency is always a work in progress, and like any city, it depends on whether staff and officials continue respecting public rights when things get uncomfortable. But compared to other audits I’ve done in Florida, Coconut Creek came out looking good.

Why This Audit Matters

Some people wonder why I keep doing these audits. Why walk into public buildings with a camera, knowing it might stir up tension? The answer is simple: the First Amendment doesn’t protect rights in theory — it protects them in practice.

If public employees respect the right to record when they see the camera, it means they’re upholding their oath to the Constitution. If they push back, it means they need more training, and the community deserves to know.

Coconut Creek is branded as the Butterfly Capital of the World. Butterflies symbolize transformation — and in a way, transparency is the same. Government can transform when it opens itself to public scrutiny, no matter how uncomfortable that feels in the moment.

Final Thoughts

This audit was less about confrontation and more about observation. I didn’t see hostility here — I saw professionalism. And in today’s climate, that’s worth highlighting.

Transparency took flight in Coconut Creek, and while not every stop was dramatic, the bigger picture matters. Every city that honors the public’s right to record helps strengthen democracy one small interaction at a time.

So the next time you think of Coconut Creek, don’t just picture butterflies. Picture a city that — at least on this day — let the camera roll without trying to clip its wings.