05/26/2026
What really happened at the May 12 Citrus County BOCC meeting — and who nearly paid the price. Watch it yourself on the YouTube channel. The Betz Farm discussion starts around the 3:38 mark. What you'll see raises serious questions — not just about one meeting, but about what happens when the people responsible for running a fair public process appear to not want certain evidence heard.
This account is factual and based entirely on the public record. We have questions. We think you will too.
Before It Even Started
Two things happened before the Betz Farm discussion even began that set the tone for everything that followed.
First, the County Attorney improperly told commissioners that the motion to rescind the contract termination — placed on the agenda by Commissioner Holly Davis — was not allowed and couldn't be taken up as written, that Holly had done that without her approval. That guidance left commissioners confused about whether they were even allowed to fix the problem in front of them.
It turned out that the Attorney’s guidance was wrong. A board of County Commissioners has broad authority to discuss its own prior actions and what to do about them, especially when they faced the buyer’s evidence that the county attorney never told them about before they voted to terminate. The motion was entirely proper.
That they were required to hear based on the letter responding to their attempt to terminate the contract. Why did the county attorney tell the board they might not be able to hear a motion that was entirely within their authority? That question deserves an answer.
Second, before a single word of testimony had been heard, Chair Diana Finnegan declared from the dais that she was "getting sickened" by recent events — insinuating her fellow commissioners were involved in "backdoor deals and hidden agendas." No evidence was offered. She is the person responsible for running a fair and orderly meeting.
A chair who has declared personal disgust with an agenda item before testimony begins is not a neutral presiding officer. That matters for everything that came next.
The Evidence That Never Reached the Board
Rob Batsel didn't show up and hope for the best. As the Attorney for Bravo Land Group, he had written two formal letters to the county before the meeting requesting time to present evidence. He outlined in specific legal detail why the termination of his client's contract was invalid.
His letters made the core facts clear: the developer was not in default. The county had caused much of the delay it was using as grounds for termination — through six months of title problems on the county's own end and through its instruction to the developer to pursue a longer PUD approval process. Under Florida law, you cannot terminate a contract over delays your own actions caused. And both sides had continued working toward closing long after the deadline passed — meaning neither party had treated the contract as over.
If the termination was wrongful — and the evidence strongly suggests it was — the county's exposure wasn't the $100,000 figure being discussed. It was at the very least, a million dollars.
Batsel asked to present this evidence twice, in writing. When his turn came, he told the chair he had sent two letters and explained the financial stakes. He asked for adequate time.
She debated on whether he had a letter on file, even though he had sent two letters. When his time ran out, she cut him off. The documents, the legal arguments, the timeline showing there was no valid default — none of it reached the board.
Here is the question every Citrus County taxpayer deserves to have answered: why?
Why did the chair limit to three minutes an attorney who had formally requested — twice, in writing — the opportunity to present evidence on a dispute carrying over a million dollars in taxpayer exposure? Why did she cut him off before that evidence could reach the board? And why did the county attorney — whose job is to protect the county from exactly this kind of legal risk — not intervene?
The chair knew the letters existed. Batsel told her from the podium. She argued with him about whether the letter was on file. Then she ran out his clock anyway and the County Attorney didn’t stop her.
A Double Standard in the Room
While Batsel was cut off, audience members called out from the floor, shouted at commissioners to resign, and called speakers liars — with no enforcement from the chair.
Public meetings have rules. They are supposed to apply to everyone. When a chair cuts off a party with documented legal standing on a million-dollar matter while allowing supporters to disrupt proceedings unchecked, it stops being a fair public hearing.
The attorney with the evidence got three minutes and a gavel. The crowd got the floor.
Why?
The County Attorney's Role
The county attorney had two opportunities to protect taxpayers at this meeting. She took neither.
The first was when she told the board the motion to rescind was improper — incorrect advice that left commissioners confused about their own authority and nearly prevented them from acting.
The second was when the chair cut off the attorney who had come with evidence the termination was invalid. The county attorney said nothing. She did not advise the chair that silencing a party with documented legal standing on a million-dollar dispute was a serious risk to the county.
The board needed that evidence. The chair stopped it from being heard. The county attorney let it happen.
Why?
The Wooten Incident
Josh Wooten, CEO of the Citrus County Chamber of Commerce, came to the podium during the data center discussion and challenged the chair directly — pointing out that limiting a buyer’s attorney to three minutes on a million-dollar contract dispute was not appropriate regardless of meeting rules.
Chair Finnegan responded personally:
"Thank you, Mr. Wooten, because we both know that you're running two commissioners if you want to talk about politics... you can come up here and run your girls, right?"
As Wooten walked back to his seat, he gave a man, who he said he thought supported his comments, a friendly tap on the shoulder with a folded piece of paper. According to several witnesses, the man stood up and shoved Wooten. The man who shoved Wooten was bleeding from his left hand afterward. Mr. Wooten declined to press charges against Wray for his shove when asked by Deputies, but Wray decided to file against Wooten for the paper tap.
Chair Finnegan turned to the room and declared from the dais:
"Mr. Wooten? Did you hit those people as they walked by?... You hit him with that. Yes, you did. And I saw it. You just accosted people in this meeting. Deputies, it's on video!"
Later in the same meeting, Finnegan offered a different account:
"I honestly, sir, I'm sorry I didn't say something. I saw him hit you and I thought — I thought you knew him, that maybe he was playing with you until it ensued."
Those two statements cannot both be true. In the first she watched an assault and called for deputies. In the second she saw the same moment, thought it looked like playing, and said nothing. The person who actually shoved Wooten was not removed from the meeting. The person who tapped Wray with a piece of paper was escorted out by law enforcement.
Why?
Accusations From the Dais
Later in the meeting, Finnegan suggested that commissioners who voted to reinstate the contract had done so because the developer's family had donated to their campaigns.
The facts: those donations predated the Betz Farm application by years. The family are pillars of this community who support local civic life broadly — as business people and community members commonly do across Citrus County. No evidence of quid pro quo was presented. None exists in the public record.
A public accusation of corruption from the chair's seat — based on ordinary civic donations and support of campaigns that predate the application by years — damages reputations, poisons public trust, and if made without factual basis, can carry its own legal consequences. And this is while the commissioners she accused had just voted to protect taxpayers from a lawsuit the county would very likely have lost.
What This Cost — And What It Could Still Cost
An attorney came with documented evidence that his client was never in default. The county attorney told the board they were not allowed to hear the motion to fix it. And later, the chair cut off the attorney before his evidence reached the board. That sequence of events nearly cost taxpayers over a million dollars on a lawsuit the county would have lost.
Three commissioners — Holly Davis, Rebecca Bays, and Jeff Kinnard — saw through the confusion and voted to reinstate the contract anyway, protecting every taxpayer in this county from a bill that should never have been created.
A respected community leader was publicly accused of assault from the dais — by the same person who later admitted she thought it looked like playing. He was removed from the room before any investigation concluded. The person who shoved him stayed.
Fellow commissioners were accused of corruption without evidence. It's now part of the public record.
And a public meeting — the place where evidence is supposed to reach decision-makers before they vote — failed at its most basic purpose.
Was all of that a coincidence? Or did the chair and the county attorney not want that evidence heard?
Full recordings and live steams of the Board's regular, bimonthly Tuesday meetings.
