Even after his resignation, former Mayor Kevin Jackson remains a polarizing figure. It doesn't matter that he hasn't appeared in public since the Fourth of July parade, let alone address the charges against him. It is perceptions of those charges that led to a rift between Rio Rancho residents.

During the two months leading up to his resignation, and even occasionally afterwards, the phrase I've heard most often, especially from his supporters, is, "I haven't seen any evidence."

Well, I have, and it wasn't very hard to come by. Long has the city pined for "one-stop shopping" at City Hall, but to find public records, there's already only one place to go.

The city clerk's office was on the second floor of City Hall, directly across the hall from the council chambers. How quickly things change. When the new City Hall opens Tuesday, that office will be conveniently on the first floor, visible from the west entrance, but closer to the east one.

Open the door; walk in. It's not one of those offices where you need to schedule an appointment, and it's not usually so busy that a line forms.

You'll talk to one of three lovely young women or a short but sturdy, clean-cut man. That man is City Clerk Roman Montoya, and the women are Deputy Clerk Rebecca Martinez, Crystal Wooldridge, and Dasha Chayarria. They're all very nice; they don't bite. They may give you a paper cut, but I'm sure that's accidental.

When you walk in, assuming you can find the courage, say, "I'd like a records request, please." The please is important, not because it will have any effect on the service you receive, but it is evidence of your character and reflects on the upbringing your parents gave you.

If you go in often, as I find myself doing, you can start saying things like, "I'll have the usual" or "

It is preferred that you don't file a new request as you're picking up the results of the last one, but if you find yourself visiting about 1.3 times per day, you may want to employ some humor: "Have you gotten my desk in yet" or "Aren't you sick of me yet - I figured you'd have locked the door by now." Just a note: Keep your humor polite -nothing crude.

Every time someone submits a request, they are giving Wooldridge more work to do as she is the records technician. Yes, it's her job, but it doesn't mean you have to be mean about it. Some polite conversation or pleasant banter goes a long way.

The form is simple to complete. You put your name, phone number and address at the top, add your request in the middle, and sign at the bottom. There is no fine print, no lifetime subscriptions to purchase, no signing away of the firstborn child.

There may be a cost. It's 25 cents per page for copies. That may not sound like much, but some of those documents are quite lengthy. It adds up quickly.

The most I spent on copies, at least as much as my memory recalls, was about $35, but it all depends what information is requested. My last public information request cost me a whopping 25 cents.

If your pockets aren't deep or if you just don't like reaching into them, there is a way to avoid paying. Ask to inspect or review those documents rather than receive copies. There's no fee to look, just to take.

The inspection of public records covers nearly all documents available at City Hall ... or at any other governmental agency for that matter. It includes all measures before the governing body, all plats and community master plans, all saved communications (including emails, which The Observer routinely requests). Basically all that is left out are items dealing with negotiations, litigation, and personnel. And, of course, if the information you want doesn't exist.

If you go into City Hall and ask for proof that Lee Harvey Oswald did not act alone, I'm almost certain you will quickly receive a letter telling you the information does not exist. Maybe not ... I should try that. But the clerk's office has no obligation to present anything that has never been.

Inspection of public records is a vital component of government accountability. It is sometimes the only way to get a straight answer, and it usually offers the most complete answer. It is something we at The Observer are happy to do, and faithful readers have probably noticed the results often find their way into our pages.

Just because I'm doing it, however, doesn't mean anyone else shouldn't or can't. It goes back to Kevin Jackson. I've seen the evidence. Heck, I have it all sitting on my desk. At least 75 percent of what we wrote about him came from public records. It wasn't hidden after we asked the right questions.

And if you don't know the right questions, here's another trick: Simply ask for the records The Observer requested. Public records requests are public records themselves.

TOM TREWEEK is a general assignment reporter for The Observer and he has nothing to hide.