Image Credit: Memphis International Airport / Facebook
Note from The Tennessee Conservative: Editorial statements in this column are the sole opinion of the author; they do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the staff of this publication.
Submitted by Peter Maher –
On the morning of June 18, 2026, I attended the Memphis‑Shelby County Airport Authority (MSCAA) Board of Commissioners meeting to do something simple: speak during public comment. Beyond passenger travel, Memphis International Airport serves as FedEx’s global hub and has, for decades, been a central node in one of the largest logistics networks in the world. It is routinely ranked the busiest cargo airport in the United States and among the busiest anywhere on earth, processing millions of shipments and anchoring global commerce.
I was the only person who spoke.
That fact might not seem remarkable—until you consider what MSCAA President and CEO Terry Blue shared in correspondence:
“To my knowledge, no members of the public have formally registered to speak since the inception of the policy in 2023. Further, to my recollection, no members of the public have even informally asked to speak at any MSCAA Board meetings or been denied from doing so in the over ten years I have been with the MSCAA.”
If accurate, that means that for at least a decade—and potentially much longer—a governing body overseeing the Memphis International Airport has operated without a single instance of public comment in practice.
This is not a minor board. Founded in 1969, MSCAA oversees a critical regional and global asset with a budget of approximately $172 million for fiscal year 2027. The MSCAA is also in the middle of a modernization effort priced at up to $800 million, making it one of the largest public infrastructure investments in Memphis.
And yet, meaningful public participation appears to have existed largely in theory—and in outdated or inaccurate policies.
My attempts to review MSCAA agendas and adopted meeting minutes revealed no consistent evidence that public comment had ever been incorporated into board proceedings prior to my participation in the June 18 meeting. In fact, adopted minutes were not accessible online and instead required a formal request under the Tennessee Public Records Act (TPRA).
Even initiating that process proved difficult.
To file my MSCAA TPRA request, I began by locating the Authority’s legally required public records policy, which should identify the Public Records Request Coordinator (PRRC), provide contact information, and outline the process for requesting records. I submitted a formal written request and waited for the statutorily required response within seven business days. No acknowledgment came.
When I returned to the policy to follow up, I discovered that the listed phone number for the designated First Amendment policy contact had been disconnected.
If the public cannot reliably access the policy that governs records requests—or contact the official responsible for receiving them—then the right to inspect public records becomes far more burdensome than real.
My correspondence with MSCAA attorneys and the President produced assurances that, moving forward, adopted minutes would be accessible and provided online.
At the June 18 meeting, public comment appeared for the first time on any MSCAA agenda as “Registered Public Comments.” That alone is historically significant.
But access remains limited.
Under current policy:
Speakers must register in advance, reportedly up to two days before an 8:00 a.m. meeting—no walk‑ups allowed
Comments can only be delivered in person
Speakers are limited to 120 seconds
Written public comments are not accepted, despite being widely used by other public bodies—particularly for citizens who do not live nearby, lack flexible work schedules, or have disabilities or caregiving responsibilities
That remains the case at MSCAA, even as it oversees a major public authority supported by significant federal funding and functioning as a national infrastructure asset serving Americans across the country.
In an uninformed attempt to participate, my initial written submission was declined. Participation was clarified to require appearing in person—effectively forcing employed individuals like me to request time off work to engage in a process that is intended to be accessible. I had to take time off work to attend an 8:00 a.m. public meeting.
The issue is not simply whether MSCAA complies with the minimum requirements of the law. It is whether its practices align with the spirit of our state’s laws, the First Amendment, and the role of a free press.
Public meetings are one of the primary ways citizens observe and engage with decisions made on our behalf. When access is constrained by advance sign‑up deadlines, early morning meeting times, and in‑person‑only participation, engagement becomes less about civic participation and more about logistical privilege.
Many Tennesseans—with inflexible work schedules, transportation challenges, caregiving responsibilities, or disabilities—are effectively excluded. Not by explicit rule, but by design.
Equally important is access to the public record.
Adopted meeting minutes are foundational. They provide the official account of what actions were taken and whether public input was considered. When those records are not readily accessible—especially for a public authority of this scale—it raises significant concerns about transparency and accountability.
At the June 18 meeting, a table was prominently designated for “Media,” underscoring the recognized importance of press access and public visibility.
But the historical record tells a more complicated story.
In the limited set of adopted minutes I obtained through a TPRA request, there are multiple references to the Authority’s “partners in the media”—suggesting an established relationship with local Memphis press. Yet those same records contain little to no evidence of citizen participation through public comment.
The contrast is difficult to ignore: a visible and recognized role for media, alongside an apparent absence—until my appearance—of meaningful public participation.
The right of a free press is essential. But it does not replace the public’s own right to access records, to be present, to participate, and to be heard. Both are necessary for any functioning system of government.
Should I—or could I—have sat at the public meeting’s “Media” table? Perhaps that is a question for a different op‑ed.
To my surprise, I was unaware—until the day before I had planned to take a day off from work to attend and present public comment (at 8 a.m.) —that both these participation limitations and the recent General Assembly legislation affecting airport authority governance existed.
This issue comes at a pivotal moment. The Tennessee General Assembly recently passed House Bill 2507, restructuring how metropolitan and regional airport authority boards are appointed. Leadership and governance at entities such as the Memphis‑Shelby County Airport Authority may soon shift significantly.
At precisely the time when public oversight and civic engagement should be expanding, the basic mechanisms for public participation—and access to records—remain limited, unclear, and, in practice, unreasonable.
On June 18, my entire public comment period lasted just two minutes. As the only speaker, I was stopped at the 120‑second limit, I thanked the Board, left to quickly learn I had forgotten where I had parked my car in the parking garage, and returned to my job. To their credit, MSCAA did provide me with a parking voucher.
The symbolism is creepy.
For decades, a major Memphis public authority appears to have operated without practical or measurable public input. Now, even as public comment is formally included on the agenda, participation remains minimal—not necessarily because of lack of interest, but because of structural barriers.
The solutions are simple.
Many Tennessee public bodies now:
Accept written public comments
Allow remote participation
Maintain and post accessible agendas and minutes
Clearly document public input in official minutes
These are not extraordinary measures—they are baseline expectations for basic governance. They should not require a new state law, but perhaps they do.
A public meeting should not require privilege or persistence to access. Public records should not depend on disconnected phone numbers.
And it should not take decades for Memphians to be heard.
If June 18 marked a first—or even a rare exception—it should also mark a beginning.
Not just of public comment, but of meaningful public engagement worthy of an institution that sits at the center of global commerce—and the Memphis community it serves.
I would encourage you to ask your own local Tennessee governing bodies (and airport authorities) whether they offer written public comment—and to request a copy of both their public comment policy and legally required Tennessee Public Records Act policy. You may be surprised by what you find.
Check out our state’s primary commercial airports that are operated by the following authorities:
A FedEx Global Hub, An $800 Million Expansion—But Who Gets To Speak At Memphis’ Airport Authority? (Op-Ed By Peter Maher)
A FedEx Global Hub, An $800 Million Expansion—But Who Gets To Speak At Memphis’ Airport Authority? (Op-Ed By Peter Maher)
Image Credit: Memphis International Airport / Facebook
Note from The Tennessee Conservative: Editorial statements in this column are the sole opinion of the author; they do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the staff of this publication.
Submitted by Peter Maher –
On the morning of June 18, 2026, I attended the Memphis‑Shelby County Airport Authority (MSCAA) Board of Commissioners meeting to do something simple: speak during public comment. Beyond passenger travel, Memphis International Airport serves as FedEx’s global hub and has, for decades, been a central node in one of the largest logistics networks in the world. It is routinely ranked the busiest cargo airport in the United States and among the busiest anywhere on earth, processing millions of shipments and anchoring global commerce.
I was the only person who spoke.
That fact might not seem remarkable—until you consider what MSCAA President and CEO Terry Blue shared in correspondence:
“To my knowledge, no members of the public have formally registered to speak since the inception of the policy in 2023. Further, to my recollection, no members of the public have even informally asked to speak at any MSCAA Board meetings or been denied from doing so in the over ten years I have been with the MSCAA.”
If accurate, that means that for at least a decade—and potentially much longer—a governing body overseeing the Memphis International Airport has operated without a single instance of public comment in practice.
This is not a minor board. Founded in 1969, MSCAA oversees a critical regional and global asset with a budget of approximately $172 million for fiscal year 2027. The MSCAA is also in the middle of a modernization effort priced at up to $800 million, making it one of the largest public infrastructure investments in Memphis.
And yet, meaningful public participation appears to have existed largely in theory—and in outdated or inaccurate policies.
My attempts to review MSCAA agendas and adopted meeting minutes revealed no consistent evidence that public comment had ever been incorporated into board proceedings prior to my participation in the June 18 meeting. In fact, adopted minutes were not accessible online and instead required a formal request under the Tennessee Public Records Act (TPRA).
Even initiating that process proved difficult.
To file my MSCAA TPRA request, I began by locating the Authority’s legally required public records policy, which should identify the Public Records Request Coordinator (PRRC), provide contact information, and outline the process for requesting records. I submitted a formal written request and waited for the statutorily required response within seven business days. No acknowledgment came.
When I returned to the policy to follow up, I discovered that the listed phone number for the designated First Amendment policy contact had been disconnected.
If the public cannot reliably access the policy that governs records requests—or contact the official responsible for receiving them—then the right to inspect public records becomes far more burdensome than real.
My correspondence with MSCAA attorneys and the President produced assurances that, moving forward, adopted minutes would be accessible and provided online.
At the June 18 meeting, public comment appeared for the first time on any MSCAA agenda as “Registered Public Comments.” That alone is historically significant.
But access remains limited.
Under current policy:
That remains the case at MSCAA, even as it oversees a major public authority supported by significant federal funding and functioning as a national infrastructure asset serving Americans across the country.
In an uninformed attempt to participate, my initial written submission was declined. Participation was clarified to require appearing in person—effectively forcing employed individuals like me to request time off work to engage in a process that is intended to be accessible. I had to take time off work to attend an 8:00 a.m. public meeting.
The issue is not simply whether MSCAA complies with the minimum requirements of the law. It is whether its practices align with the spirit of our state’s laws, the First Amendment, and the role of a free press.
Public meetings are one of the primary ways citizens observe and engage with decisions made on our behalf. When access is constrained by advance sign‑up deadlines, early morning meeting times, and in‑person‑only participation, engagement becomes less about civic participation and more about logistical privilege.
Many Tennesseans—with inflexible work schedules, transportation challenges, caregiving responsibilities, or disabilities—are effectively excluded. Not by explicit rule, but by design.
Equally important is access to the public record.
Adopted meeting minutes are foundational. They provide the official account of what actions were taken and whether public input was considered. When those records are not readily accessible—especially for a public authority of this scale—it raises significant concerns about transparency and accountability.
At the June 18 meeting, a table was prominently designated for “Media,” underscoring the recognized importance of press access and public visibility.
But the historical record tells a more complicated story.
In the limited set of adopted minutes I obtained through a TPRA request, there are multiple references to the Authority’s “partners in the media”—suggesting an established relationship with local Memphis press. Yet those same records contain little to no evidence of citizen participation through public comment.
The contrast is difficult to ignore: a visible and recognized role for media, alongside an apparent absence—until my appearance—of meaningful public participation.
The right of a free press is essential. But it does not replace the public’s own right to access records, to be present, to participate, and to be heard. Both are necessary for any functioning system of government.
Should I—or could I—have sat at the public meeting’s “Media” table? Perhaps that is a question for a different op‑ed.
To my surprise, I was unaware—until the day before I had planned to take a day off from work to attend and present public comment (at 8 a.m.) —that both these participation limitations and the recent General Assembly legislation affecting airport authority governance existed.
This issue comes at a pivotal moment. The Tennessee General Assembly recently passed House Bill 2507, restructuring how metropolitan and regional airport authority boards are appointed. Leadership and governance at entities such as the Memphis‑Shelby County Airport Authority may soon shift significantly.
At precisely the time when public oversight and civic engagement should be expanding, the basic mechanisms for public participation—and access to records—remain limited, unclear, and, in practice, unreasonable.
On June 18, my entire public comment period lasted just two minutes. As the only speaker, I was stopped at the 120‑second limit, I thanked the Board, left to quickly learn I had forgotten where I had parked my car in the parking garage, and returned to my job. To their credit, MSCAA did provide me with a parking voucher.
The symbolism is creepy.
For decades, a major Memphis public authority appears to have operated without practical or measurable public input. Now, even as public comment is formally included on the agenda, participation remains minimal—not necessarily because of lack of interest, but because of structural barriers.
The solutions are simple.
Many Tennessee public bodies now:
These are not extraordinary measures—they are baseline expectations for basic governance. They should not require a new state law, but perhaps they do.
A public meeting should not require privilege or persistence to access. Public records should not depend on disconnected phone numbers.
And it should not take decades for Memphians to be heard.
If June 18 marked a first—or even a rare exception—it should also mark a beginning.
Not just of public comment, but of meaningful public engagement worthy of an institution that sits at the center of global commerce—and the Memphis community it serves.
I would encourage you to ask your own local Tennessee governing bodies (and airport authorities) whether they offer written public comment—and to request a copy of both their public comment policy and legally required Tennessee Public Records Act policy. You may be surprised by what you find.
Check out our state’s primary commercial airports that are operated by the following authorities:
Memphis International Airport – MEM
Welcome to the Nashville International Airport® (BNA®)
McGhee Tyson Airport TYS – FlyKnoxville
Chattanooga Airport
https://www.triflight.com/