City council votes ‘Yes’ to fire entire police force

Erika Stanish of CBS Pittsburgh reported that a single vote in Masontown Borough set off a community-level shockwave: council members voted 6–1 to lay off the entire police force.

In her report, Stanish made it clear the backlash wasn’t mild grumbling either, because residents and police leaders were openly calling the decision reckless, rushed, and personal.

Masontown Borough Police Chief Timothy O’Barto, speaking in Stanish’s coverage, didn’t just disagree with council’s move – he blasted it as “a political hack job,” insisting, “This has nothing to do with taxes.”

Stanish also reported that when she contacted council members to ask for their reasoning, only one got back to her at first, and the explanation she received was that it came down to budget concerns.

That gap – between “this is about saving money” and “this is a political hit” – is the core dispute, and Stanish’s reporting shows how fast it turned into a public fight.

Who Gets Laid Off, And What Masontown Loses Overnight

Stanish reported that Masontown’s police department isn’t huge, but it’s not nothing either: the borough has two full-time officers and four part-time officers.

O’Barto told Stanish that staffing level is necessary, because the department deals with a wide range of cases that don’t stop just because a town is small.

In one of the most striking lines from Stanish’s report, O’Barto said the borough sees everything “from homicides down to the smallest internet cryptocurrency cases,” which was his way of arguing that modern crime doesn’t politely scale down to match a town’s population.

Stanish also interviewed residents who sounded stunned that anyone would consider removing a local police presence as a routine cost-cutting measure.

One longtime resident, Stacie Rude, told Stanish, “We have a good community and we need the police presence here,” and she added that “priorities are in the wrong spot.”

That reaction matters because it shows how regular people hear “we’re cutting taxes” and still think, “Okay, but what happens when I call 911?”

And in a place where folks are used to seeing officers they recognize, layoffs don’t feel like a spreadsheet decision – they feel like removing a safety net.

The Tax Argument, The Politics Argument, And The Suspicion In Between

Stanish reported that at least one council member argued the layoffs were tied to property taxes and millage rates, and the idea was that shrinking government would ease the burden on taxpayers.

But O’Barto pushed back hard in Stanish’s interview, saying the borough was not actually eliminating property taxes and not truly cutting what people think they’re cutting, which is why he framed it as retaliation instead of reform.

Stanish also included a key detail that adds fuel to O’Barto’s argument: Mayor Michael Washko said the 2026 budget had already been passed and the police department was “fully funded,” meaning the “money problem” doesn’t look as simple as it’s being sold.

Washko told Stanish the town had been working within its budget for years, and he suggested the police department even had a surplus, which makes the sudden urgency feel suspicious to people who follow local government closely.

Then Stanish layered in another point that made residents’ frustration more understandable: O’Barto said the borough had just spent tens of thousands of dollars on equipment and vehicles, including items like body cameras, tasers, and police cars.

In other words, if you were truly trying to pinch pennies, you probably wouldn’t spend heavily on policing and then yank the department out by the roots right after.

O’Barto put it in blunt, almost mocking terms to Stanish, saying it’s like spending $100,000 and then moving to vacate the police department “two minutes after your butts hit the seat in the new council.”

That line is harsh, but it captures what he was alleging: that this wasn’t a careful, debated policy change – it was a fast strike, and he believes he was the target.

“Response Times” And The Fear That Comes With Outsourcing Policing

One of the most practical worries in Erika Stanish’s report was what happens next, because the borough still needs coverage even if it lays off local officers.

Stanish reported that Pennsylvania State Police in Uniontown is now covering the area, at least temporarily, until a final decision is made.

O’Barto warned Stanish that this shift could turn response times from “one to three minutes” into “30 to 40 minutes,” and he spoke about it like a ticking clock, not a theoretical debate.

Rude echoed the same fear in Stanish’s report, saying that one day someone will need a police officer and the state police “aren’t going to show up,” and then people will realize the town “messed up.”

That kind of statement can sound dramatic, but it’s also how normal people talk when they’re worried about the gap between “coverage exists” and “coverage arrives in time.”

If you live in a community where help is usually close, the idea of waiting half an hour is not an abstract inconvenience – it’s a safety nightmare.

Stanish also pointed out another tension that often gets ignored in these fights: state police coverage isn’t just a switch you flip, because it can shift workload and strain resources, even if nobody wants to admit that out loud on camera.

And even if state police do their best, it changes the character of law enforcement in a town, because local officers usually know repeat locations, local disputes, and problem patterns in a way an outside agency can’t instantly replicate.

The District Attorney’s Warning And A Lawsuit Threat

Stanish reported that this wasn’t just a political argument inside the borough, because the Fayette County District Attorney stepped in and suggested the process itself may have been improper.

District Attorney Mike Aubele told Stanish that neither his office nor the Pennsylvania State Police were notified that Masontown intended to take this action.

Aubele also said, according to Stanish, that it was not on the agenda and “shouldn’t have been voted on,” which is the kind of procedural criticism that can turn a local vote into a legal mess.

Stanish reported that Aubele said his office intends to file a lawsuit against the borough to undo the action, arguing that eliminating the department has put the entire community at risk.

That’s a serious escalation, because it suggests the DA’s office isn’t treating this as ordinary local governance, but as a move that could have public-safety consequences and legal consequences at the same time.

And it’s hard not to notice how unusual it sounds for a county DA to say, essentially, “You can’t just do this without notifying key law enforcement leadership,” because it hints at a breakdown in basic coordination.

When government bodies stop communicating and start surprising each other with major actions, that’s usually when the public pays the price in confusion, delays, and finger-pointing.

What Happens Next, And Why This Story Isn’t Over

Stanish reported that council was expected to vote again soon, with a meeting next week where members could take the next step and officially disband the department.

O’Barto told Stanish he hopes the public shows up, even if he believes the decision-makers may not be listening.

But Stanish’s reporting also included a major development that complicates the “done deal” narrative: Masontown council president John Stoffa said members planned to meet Saturday to make a motion to repeal the decision to lay off the police force.

That update matters because it suggests the blowback was strong enough that borough leaders may be searching for an off-ramp, or at least a way to reset the process before a lawsuit forces them to.

Stanish also reported that moving forward, Stoffa said council would ask police for more details about what officers do, which reads like an admission that some members may have voted without fully understanding the department’s workload.

If that’s true, it’s a rough lesson in what happens when local politics gets personal or rushed: you can’t “test drive” the consequences of layoffs like this, because the moment coverage changes, the risk shifts onto families, businesses, and anyone who might need help at 3 a.m.

And whether O’Barto is right about motive or council is right about money, Stanish’s reporting shows the same bottom line either way: Masontown residents are now stuck in the middle of a power struggle where the stakes aren’t abstract, because the stakes are the time it takes for help to arrive.