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What she didn’t know was that a 774-word agreement between a former California congressman and her new university would cause the biggest turmoil of her tenure, including a lawsuit now in its fourth year, and the eventual end of her presidency — all centered around old papers and some office furniture.
At first glance, the agreement seemed like a routine transaction that happens on campuses across America all the time. A local politician — in this case Elton W. Gallegly, a Republican who served 13 terms in Congress — donated his papers to a local college, which added them to its archives and made them available for students and other researchers to study.
But somewhere between the signing of the gift agreement and the filing of a lawsuit, something went wrong, and nobody is sure exactly what it was. Was it a woke campus culture rejecting the embrace of a conservative California politician? Was it a politician upset that his legacy wasn’t being properly burnished? Or was it simply a reminder that every little detail needs to be written down and agreed to by both parties?
A California court ruled late last year against one portion of Gallegly’s lawsuit, but the surviving claims are marching onward toward a jury trial, likely sometime this year. Varlotta has also formally asked for an apology from Gallegly and his supporters, which they haven’t given.
Gallegly did not respond to requests for comment. Gallegly’s wife, Janice, also didn’t respond to requests for comment.
A spokesman for California Lutheran declined to comment on the case and on the current status of the collection. Varlotta agreed to talk but noted that she was not talking for the university. The university has filed a motion for summary judgement and dismissal of the entire suit. A hearing on that is scheduled for early June.
In his mid-December ruling, Judge Henry J. Walsh of the Ventura County Superior Court observed of the puzzling case: “It has been clear to the court that Mr. Gallegly was interested in preserving his legacy, and also providing for scholarships bearing his name (Gallegly Fellows), and establishing a distinguished speaker program. None of this is somehow inappropriate, but the devil is in the details.”
The pandemic made it hard for her to meet people, even as she was being asked to make difficult decisions about how to reduce a $23.5-million budget shortfall. “At Hiram, I made the same decisions, but because I was able to have relationships, the people knew that I was making them in the best interest of the university,” she said. “I never had a chance to build the kind of relationships [at Cal Lutheran] that I had built in every other position I’d had for 36 years.”
Given the extent to which the Galleglys and their associates went to erode goodwill and to create a caricature of me that was distorted, it was going to be very difficult for me to be the best president I could be.
She quickly got wind of the bizarre dispute that was already several years old. Four weeks into her presidency, she was presented with a tolling agreement between the university and Gallegly to sign. A tolling agreement is a legal document that suspends the statute of limitations, allowing for more time for mediation or an agreement to be worked out between parties, all while maintaining the ability for a lawsuit to be filed. Even as she signed it, she said, she didn’t know much about the donation’s backstory.
That story began in 2011, when Gallegly was considering what to do with his papers after he leaves Congress, in 2013. Various institutions, including California Lutheran, expressed interest in housing them.
Gallegly served on the Committee on Foreign Affairs, the Committee on the Judiciary, and on the Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence at points during his time in Congress. Before heading to Washington, he was mayor of Simi Valley, in Ventura County, near the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library and about seven miles away from California Lutheran.
In the early stages, California State University-Channel Islands was in the lead to get the papers, according to Gallegly’s original court filing, but California Lutheran wasn’t giving up. The president then, Chris Kimball, and other administrators spoke with the Galleglys about a program that would include a fellowship to award scholarships to students, a speaking program, and the archiving of the papers. There also was discussion, Gallegly alleged later in his lawsuit, about using the furniture from his congressional office for a replica office.
At the end of 2012, Gallegly signed an agreement with the university to “deposit certain papers and related materials and furniture of Congressman Gallegly” with the institution and to establish the Elton Gallegly Center for Public Policy and Civic Engagement. The agreement calls for the university to follow professional practices in displaying the materials and caring for them, but it doesn’t specify exactly how they are to be presented. The agreement also says that Gallegly will “join with CLU in seeking donations of not less than” $3 million to form an endowment to fund the operation of the center. It also says the agreement can be canceled within 180 days’ notice to CLU.
The university began raising money for the construction of the center, and made a fancy brochure touting it. Included in the brochure was a paragraph that would loom large in the years to come: “The Gallegly Center will be a working office where Public Service Fellows and visiting scholars can meet and conduct research. Representative Gallegly’s government documents, correspondence and papers will be housed in the Gallegly Center’s archives. His House of Representatives desk and other office furniture will be on display for public viewing.” The Galleglys would come to see that brochure as a legally binding document outlining all that California Lutheran would do; the university saw it as a portrait of what might be possible.
By 2017, the money was raised and a new gift agreement was signed by the university and Gallegly. It spells out how the papers are to be handled but only has one line about the office furniture — noting that it also is being donated to the new center. There’s no mention of how it is to be displayed.
Gift agreements are legally binding documents and often can run dozens of pages, covering the most minute details. For example, when prominent Detroit businessman Mike Ilitch gave money to Wayne State University to build a new business school, the 42-page gift agreement contained details about everything, including the construction of “a display case … [that] will contain a description of Mike Ilitch, his business careers, and personal accomplishments.”
One stipulation was clear: Gallegly’s memorabilia remained his, but on loan to the university. He clearly stated as much in an April 27, 2018, letter to the university, which contained an itemized list of the property, including his desk, chair, pictures and other items.
Later, California Lutheran’s lawyers would cite this fact to demonstrate that Gallegly was “able to write a very specific contract that was signed and dated by the parties.” (They also asked whether he agreed that “when you were drafting bills, that you wanted to be as precise in your language as you could be.” He replied: “In order to be effective, yes.”)
By May 2018, the center had been built onto the campus library, although that construction sparked backlash. A group of students started a petition objecting to celebrating Gallegly in the form of the center, claiming: “He targeted the identities shared by many of our students, people of color — particularly Hispanics, the LGBTQ community, and immigrants to this country.”
Several faculty members also wrote letters to the student newspaper raising concerns with the center. Christopher Brown, a mathematics professor, wrote: “Elton Gallegly’s past actions are not just inconsistent with but opposed to the mission of CLU and the identity and values we aspire to. I am utterly unable to reconcile the Gallegly Center with CLU’s current goals of equity and diversity or its mission statement,” according to a report on the center and the backlash published in local media.
She left the meeting feeling like she’d be able to make Gallegly happy. “The former congressman is going to be pleased, and as a new president I’m going to do what he wanted and the gift agreement is going to be satisfied.”
About a year into her presidency, the archives were organized. But that ultimately wouldn’t satisfy Gallegly, who said he wanted the papers digitally archived. Yet Kimball, Varlotta’s predecessor, later said under oath that he did not believe the agreement between the two parties required digitization, nor did he make any such promise.
Behind the scenes, the Galleglys were beginning what would turn into a full-fledged PR battle against Varlotta and the university.
On July 31, 2021, the summer after Gallegly and Varlotta first met, Gallegly emailed a friend to ask a favor: Would they fill out a complaint with the California attorney general’s office alleging California Lutheran broke a charitable trust established by the gift agreement?
“Our attorney’s office is going to forward me some sample answers to the questions that I will pass on to you, or their office is more than happy to speak with you to help complete the form,” said the email, which was included in court filings. Gallegly’s wife sent a similar email the same day to a friend asking for the same thing (“I will take care of this,” the friend replied), and the pair sent a similar request from the former congressman’s account.
In January 2022, Gallegly wrote to the office himself, claiming funds were being mismanaged and the attorney general should step in. He also claimed no accounting of the funds had been provided. But in the later trial, a member of the advisory board testified that there were two meetings of the advisory council where summary financials were presented.
A spokesman for the attorney general would not confirm to The Chronicle that they had received the complaints, or provide any update on whether the complaints were investigated.
By August 2021, the Galleglys had begun a new phase in their campaign. According to emails filed in court documents, they started reaching out to members of the community, urging them to write letters to the editor of local news publications. “If you question any content,” Janice said in one email, “run it by us first.”
Later that summer and into the fall, the Galleglys tried to get the nearby Ronald Reagan Presidential Library, where Gallegly had an exhibit named for him, to weigh in on their side. In a series of text messages included in court documents between Gallegly and a PR representative working with him, Gallegly laid out their strategy: “I really would like to overwhelm her to stay on defensive,” he texted on November 22, 2021, at 7:37 p.m. A couple of hours later, at 9:39 p.m., he texted again: “My fear is that Valotta (sic) has apparently made serious commitments to her left rebels. As you know she is in trouble with her own performance, our trump card is the truth.”
Early the next morning, the texting from Gallegly continued: “Need real heat on Valotta.”
At the end of the fall of 2021, Varlotta and the university decided to take down the loaned office furniture they had displayed in the center to make room for Gallegly’s papers. The agreement hadn’t even called for a replica office, she said, and the memorabilia was on loan. She knew Gallegly would be disappointed, but she didn’t lose sleep over it.
“There was no political context or undercurrent there,” she said, adding the Board of Regents was OK with the move. “So for me and for the team and for the attorney that looked at the agreement and the board, it was an easy decision.”
That lawsuit was filed on November 15, 2021. It alleged that the university didn’t take care of the papers. It also said the donations established a charitable trust and that “the continuing existence of the replica office of Congressman Gallegly as the hub of the Gallegly Center, the use of the Gallegly Center for its contemplated purposes, and the professional archiving of his Archival Collection” was the purpose of the trust.
The suit also alleged that the university and Varlotta hadn’t allowed for a proper accounting of the funds dedicated to the center. The suit asked the court to, among other things, “maintain and protect the replica office.”
The start of the legal process didn’t stop the Galleglys from continuing to work behind the scenes to undermine Varlotta, according to court documents.
“They created a caricature of me based on misinformation,” Varlotta said. “I think they came after me because I was an outsider.”
Emails from late December 2021 and early January 2022 show correspondence between the Galleglys and members of the public who would try to overwhelm regents with messages.
“The plan is in place,” one of them wrote. “There are 28 regents and seven letter writers; each writer has committed to sending a copy of his/her letter to the regents. I encouraged everyone to include a handwritten note, providing the attached .jpg as an example.”
In February, Janice emailed a supporter, urging more letters to be sent to news outlets and providing examples. “Below are a couple of suggested letters to write. They aren’t the best but could probably be effective with some slight modification. If you would take a look at them and see what you think and if you have anyone that would sign them, we would appreciate it.
“We need to keep the fires burning under their feet,” she added. “President Varlotta’s three day inauguration starts February 22.”
Five days before that inauguration celebration, Janice was still trying to gather people to write letters. She emailed an acquaintance and asked if they would be willing to write a letter. “Our attorney’s [sic] think the more pressure CLU has from people who respect Elton and are unhappy with them trying to get us off of campus, the more likely they may be to come to the table and settle,” she wrote.
One of Gallegly’s supporters emailed the couple in early February 2022 about a plan to contact national media, including Tucker Carlson, “who is hitting the Woke school issue.”
The letters from this period alleged that the university had promised to construct an office replica, but that Varlotta had nixed the effort because she disagreed with Gallegly’s politics. “The CLU regents appointed a senior administrator with leftist leanings and no prior connection to the community,” one person wrote. “This person ordered Gallegly’s office display removed.”
The campaign went on through 2023, emails in the court records show, and included messages from university donors. “It is crystal clear that the current CLU executive staff has orchestrated and engaged in a behind-the-scenes effort to CANCEL Congressman Gallegly, obliterating his record of service, his invaluable papers, possessions, and public-service legacy,” one letter read.
Meanwhile, the university stayed silent, hoping to prevail in the court of law. Varlotta said, in retrospect, that was a mistake. “What we failed to recognize is that the undercurrent was so orchestrated and so heavily weighted through the influence that the former congressman had, that the narrative took such a strong hold that, if and when the university or I was willing to talk, it was almost too late,” Varlotta said. “The university, and more specifically me, was painted in a way that was hard to undo.”
Varlotta had also overseen a series of cuts to the university. There were layoffs, furloughs, pay freezes, travel restrictions, and retirement contributions were paused. The attacks on her, combined with anger over the cuts, began to find their mark. In January 2024, the faculty passed a no-confidence vote in Varlotta.
“It is the opinion of the faculty that President Varlotta’s interpersonal style and decisions have caused reputational harm to the institution by needlessly escalating conflict and distracting from the many positive activities happening at the university,” the document said, according to media reports at the time.
The board backed Varlotta, lauding her “unwavering commitment to the success of our students now and in the future.” And Varlotta said she was not pressured by trustees to step aside. But a few months after the vote, in May 2024, Varlotta announced she would resign.
“I decided that given the amount of negative publicity, given the extent to which the Galleglys and their associates went to erode goodwill and to create a caricature of me that was distorted, it was going to be very difficult for me to be the best president I could be and to do my very best for the university.”
Varlotta is still at California Lutheran. She’s on research leave this academic year and will go back in the fall as distinguished professor of higher-education leadership in the university’s Graduate School of Education. She’s been advising the Lake Erie College board and president, and serves as a presidential fellow at Chapman University.
She’s drawn a few lessons from her shortened presidency at California Lutheran, including having good legal and communications advisers, and balancing their inputs. Don’t be afraid to get your message out. The university’s silence amid the campaign against her “made it easy for an inaccurate, disingenuous, and vicious narrative to take hold,” she said. “In retrospect, I wish university leaders and board members, including myself, would have countered that narrative with irrefutable facts.”
Moreover, institutions need to be careful and detailed in accepting gifts, and to understand “the intersection between donor interests and university needs,” she said. “As you get ready to accept a gift, make sure that the president and the developmental office understand what the donor intends to give and to get, and what the institution intends to use the gift to the benefit of the students and the overall organization. And if there isn’t a large advantage to the university and its students benefiting from the gift, then don’t accept it.”
But most of all, Varlotta sees her saga as the cautionary tale of an outsider “in a highly polarized world, at a highly polarized time,” with a hard job who hadn’t been able to cultivate allies due to Covid. She was an easy target when the hits started coming. “Perhaps it was this combination that made it easy for the plaintiffs to target me almost singularly in their scorched-earth media campaign,” she said.
