The mayor read a long letter laying out her reasons for firing the village attorney. The trustees pushed back. Residents spoke about battery fires, taxes, and trust. This page takes every factual claim we could pull from that night and checks it against the real documents and the law. No legal background needed. We explain what each claim means before we grade it.
This goes with our main Fact Check. Claims we already graded there (the firing, the June 25 meeting, the CCOM conflict) are linked, not repeated.
Two things ran the night, and they pointed in opposite directions. On Gotion's fire brigade, the trustees, who agree with the mayor on almost nothing, lined up behind the same written safety ultimatum, and the mayor's own letter hit the same theme (though four days later she told Shaw Local the trustees' document was "not an approved document"). On almost everything else, the meeting was a replay of the June fight over the village attorney, told very differently by each side. A few things to know before you scroll:
Corrected September 22, 2026: an earlier version of this page said the mayor did not veto anything at this meeting. She did. At 53:42, under her President's Report, she said: "Under old business tonight, I'm vetoing the Cainkar appointment that was made at the last meeting." Our first version relied on a caption capture of the recording that was cut off at 51:40, two minutes before she said it. That was our error, and it is fixed in the court card (j10) below. Whether a one-sentence oral announcement counts as the formal written return the veto statute requires is a separate question, taken up on the August 3 page.
Graded July 21, 2026 from the meeting recording, updated July 31 when the court ruling was confirmed, and corrected September 22 against the full transcript. Quotes are transcribed from the audio; the company name is written as "Gotion" (the auto-transcript rendered it as "Goan," "Gan," and "Gian"). Sources are cited inline; the underlying FOIA productions and court filings are in the document library. Where a claim was already graded on the main Fact Check, we link to it (c1 to c39).
A village attorney is a lawyer, not a member of the board. His job is to give advice. The elected trustees vote, and the mayor votes to break ties. So when the letter says the attorney "advised the board to throw out a bid," or that "the village approved Gotion under his legal advice," those were still the board's votes, not his. A lawyer can suggest something the board says no to, or warn against something the board does anyway.
Why this matters for the firing: two of the mayor's three reasons are really complaints about decisions the board made, with the lawyer's advice somewhere in the background. The third, that he never wrote contracts forcing Gotion to staff a fire brigade, is a fairer knock on his actual legal work, though even the trustees called that a shared failure.
One more thing that surprises people: the law does not require the mayor's reasons to be good, or even fair. An Illinois mayor can remove an appointed officer whenever she believes it serves the village. So the court fight is not about whether these reasons are convincing. It is about whether she followed the exact steps the law lays out for removing him. On this page we check whether each reason is accurate. Whether it justifies a firing is a separate question, and mostly a political one.
Mayor LaMore read a long prepared statement of "facts." Here are the ones we can check.
This points to a real episode in the forensic audit, but tells it from one side. The audit looked at the Legacy Park Phase 2 project. A single bid from Schwartz ($725,895) was rejected against a roughly $1.7M engineer's estimate, based on a Sept. 19, 2024 letter from village engineer Bruce Hill. The job was rebid and won by Tenco at $984,111. The audit also adds up about $7.56M in village work that went to the Nugent family over the years. So a bid really was rejected and rebid, and family-connected firms really did get village work. What the one sentence leaves out: the auditors said they "found no serious improprieties or fraud," several of their findings are publicly disputed, and Trustee Gesky says Tenco was the low bidder and saved the village about $1M. The record also ties the rejection to the engineer's letter, not to the attorney telling the board to toss the bid. And as noted above, the board is the one that voted.
The basic facts are solid; the blame is the mayor's spin. In December 2023 the board voted 5 to 1 to rezone the roughly 112-acre Gotion parcel from light to heavy industrial (Ord. 23-09), and that rezoning is what the CCOM lawsuit is about. So "approved a heavy industrial company, which led to a lawsuit" is accurate. But "misaligned with our own ordinances" is a legal opinion, not a settled fact. A judge has allowed 7 of 10 CCOM claims to move forward and dismissed three, some for good. Whether the approval actually broke village ordinances has not been decided. The mayor flags it as her own view by saying "I believe," which is fair. Just remember it was the board's 5-to-1 vote, not the attorney's.
On the exact words, she is right, and the records back her up. Amanda Piker founded Concerned Citizens of Manteno in September 2023 and is its registered agent. State filings show LaMore held no office or title in the group. So if "leadership position" means a formal role, her denial is accurate.
What the sentence leaves out is the bigger picture. Before she was mayor, LaMore was one of the most visible leaders of the anti-Gotion fight. Shaw Local (April 2025) called her "the driving force behind the Concerned Citizens of Manteno lawsuit." She went on Fox Business with Piker in December 2023, spoke at a congressional roundtable against the plant, and built her whole 2025 campaign around stopping Gotion. Most telling, in her own words, once she became mayor and the village became a defendant, she said "I have to walk away from that." You do not walk away from something you were never part of.
So both things are true at once: no formal CCOM title, but a real public leadership role in the movement, by her own admission. That gap is the heart of the conflict-of-interest question this site tracks, because she is the one who moved to fire the lawyer defending the village in the very lawsuit she once helped drive.
We could not find any public record of this, and a fresh search in July 2026 turned up nothing new. No news report, union statement, grievance, or filing describes a union walkoff at the Gotion Manteno site, or foreign Gotion workers doing union tradework off-hours, in 2025 or 2026. The mayor ties it to a private talk with an unnamed union rep, which cannot be checked from the outside. What the record does show points the other way: the local building-trades unions have publicly supported Gotion over the construction jobs (Daily Journal, Oct. 2023). Separately, Gotion's parent company has faced congressional forced-labor questions about its overseas suppliers (Rep. Moolenaar's office, "Gotion's suppliers blacklisted"), but that is about materials sourced abroad, not a Manteno job-site walkoff, so the two should not be mixed. This one rests entirely on the mayor's account.
On the narrow point, that no written fire-brigade agreement existed before mid-2026, the mayor is backed up by the trustees themselves. At this same meeting Trustee Gesky said plainly: "there was never anything put in writing beforehand. It's in writing now," and that getting it in writing "was the big push." So the core fact holds. The context: she pins the gap on the former attorney, but the trustees spread the blame around. Gesky said "we could be pointing the fingers at the fire department... at everyone sitting in this room... each and every one of us trustees," noting the fire department first flagged it back in December 2025 and little happened until now. Whether writing that contract was the lawyer's job alone or a shared failure is a matter of opinion. The missing contract is real; the sole blame is not.
The mayor gave her account of why the June 25 special meeting happened without her. The trustees, on camera, told it the opposite way.
This is the mayor's side of a story the village's own records tell differently, and the two genuinely clash. From the records: the mayor did sign a written "Call for Special Meeting" for June 25 (hand-dated June 23). Trustee Gesky then asked in writing (11:53 a.m., June 23) to add a motion to bring Cainkar back; the administrator replied "Will do"; and the agenda went out at 4:31 p.m. with that item on it. The mayor's version, that a staffer refused her, cited a 1974 in-person-filing law, and posted "her husband's agenda in lieu of mine," is her read on those same events. The records show a fight over adding an item and over clerk-notice rules, not a flat refusal to post her. Because a trustee's wife works in village hall handling FOIA and admin work, one side calls it "nepotistic obstruction" and the other calls it "we followed the rules and added a lawful item."
Later in the meeting a trustee answered this head-on: the claim that "your agenda [was] refused to be posted, not accurate. And in fact your agenda versus the agenda that was posted, the only thing different was that we added an item... and any meeting called, any elected official can add something onto the agenda." He said his only instruction was to make sure it was posted 48 hours ahead so the Open Meetings Act was not broken. So the mayor's "meaningless prop" framing is contested by the very people she says obstructed her, who say her agenda was mostly posted, plus one added item. This is a factual dispute about what happened to one document. The legal question underneath, whether a trustee can add an item to the mayor's special-meeting call, is answered in the next card.
The most quotable exchange of the night, and one the law actually answers.
No Illinois law gives a village president sole power to set the board's agenda. The president runs the meeting (65 ILCS 5/3.1-40-30), but "the city council shall determine its own rules of proceeding" (65 ILCS 5/3.1-40-15, applied to villages), so procedure belongs to the board as a group. The Open Meetings Act says the agenda must be posted 48 hours ahead and bars a final vote on something not listed, but it specifically does not "preclude the consideration of items not specifically set forth in the agenda" (5 ILCS 120/2.02). In plain terms, any member can raise a topic for discussion. And a special meeting can be called by the president or by any three trustees (3.1-40-25). So "we are all in charge" is much closer to the law than "the mayor is in charge."
Where the mayor's attorney had a point: under Robert's Rules, which the village code uses when its own rules are silent, the chair usually drafts the proposed agenda, and the administrative code has the administrator help put it together. But drafting is not owning. A proposed agenda is not binding until the board adopts it, the board can change it, and any member can move to add an item. A housekeeping role, yes. A veto over what the board may take up, no. Stated as an absolute, the claim does not hold.
The board: State law lets the board "determine its own rules of proceeding" (65 ILCS 5/3.1-40-15). The permanent fix is an ordinance amending § 1-6-5 that says how items get on the agenda and restores a trustee comment item: four of seven votes, and if the president vetoes it, four trustees can pass it over the veto at the next regular meeting. For a single night, a majority of those present can suspend the rules under § 1-6-7 and take up an item; that motion is not an ordinance and cannot be vetoed. Neither has been tried.
The mayor: She presides and, until the board writes a rule, prepares the agenda in practice. She can end the dispute by adopting a written agenda procedure with the board, or simply by placing trustee requests on the agenda.
There is a real legal line here, and both sides are partly right. Illinois lets a village board hire its own legislative counsel, a lawyer to advise the board, by majority vote (Manteno Code § 1-9-4). Other Illinois villages have done exactly that. That is different from controlling the village's litigation counsel, which under Village of Westmont v. Lenihan takes the mayor and board acting together, not the board alone. So the mayor's camp is right that the board cannot simply seize control of the village's court defense.
But that is not what the trustees said they were doing. The four of them were personally named as defendants, and they said they were "retaining counsel to file an appearance" to defend themselves. People who are sued as individuals are normally entitled to their own lawyer, whoever they are. So the strongest version of the trustees' position, defending themselves in a suit against them, stands on solid ground, and the strongest version of the mayor's, that the board cannot commandeer the village's litigation counsel, also has real support. Which hat the board's lawyer is actually wearing is what a court would have to sort out.
For weeks people expected a veto. The mayor announced one in a single sentence, and she also went to court; the next morning the case fell apart.
Corrected September 22, 2026. An earlier version of this card said the mayor "did not veto anything at this meeting" and that she "had gone to court" instead. That was wrong, and the error was ours: our first grading used a caption capture of the recording that stopped at 51:40, and the veto sentence comes at 53:42. The full transcript shows she did both. Under her report, in one sentence and with no document read or shown, she announced a veto of the July 6 vote that kept attorney Cainkar (Fact Check c28). She then told the meeting she had asked a court for a temporary restraining order, and that a judge would decide the village's legal representation the next morning. That last part is accurate.
Whether the one-sentence announcement counts as a veto in law is a different question. The statute (65 ILCS 5/3.1-40-45) requires a vetoed measure to be returned with the mayor's written objections at the next regular meeting, and nobody has produced a written veto message from July 20. That is where the argument now lives, and it is worked through on the August 3 page.
The outcome, on July 21: Kankakee County Circuit Judge Lindsay Parkhurst dismissed the village's case. Her reason was procedural, not a decision on who is right. The village had asked for an emergency order without first filing an actual lawsuit, so, in her words, "the court lacks subject matter jurisdiction because no complaint was filed." The trustees' attorney, Daniel Bourgault of Klein, Thorpe & Jenkins, had made exactly that argument in a July 17 motion. The four trustees named as defendants were C.J. Boudreau, Annette Zimbelman, Todd Crockett, and Joel Gesky.
The fight is not over. The mayor's attorney, James Vasselli, filed for leave to bring a complaint on July 20 and said a full complaint would follow within 72 hours. No new court date was set. So the June 25 meeting question (cards j6 and j7) is still unresolved, and the two sides will be back. As our legal analysis lays out, the real test is whether the mayor followed the steps state law requires to remove an appointed officer.
The board: A veto is a written objection returned at the next regular meeting (65 ILCS 5/3.1-40-45); a sentence read aloud is not one on its own, and an item not returned in time takes effect anyway. If a written objection exists, four trustees can pass the item over it at the next regular meeting, by roll call recorded in the journal (3.1-40-50). On the attorney, the board's cleanest legal ground is the missed 5-to-10-day report required by 3.1-35-10, not the four-vote disapprovals, and it can consent to any nominee the president brings.
The mayor: The office is hers to fill. The standoff ends the moment she nominates someone four trustees will confirm, or re-nominates Cainkar; nothing in the statute bars re-nominating a removed officer. No court is needed for that.
The Toolbox: vetoes and overrides, in full → · The attorney standoff →
The one place the mayor's letter and the trustees pointed the same way. Trustees Gesky and Barry presented a written safety agreement, which Gesky said all the trustees had talked through; the mayor did not endorse it on the record, and four days later told Shaw Local it was "not an approved document." A retired fire lieutenant vouched for the staffing plan.
The requirement and the shortfall are well documented. Manteno Community Fire Protection District Chief Richard Petersen sent a letter dated Nov. 19, 2025 (some accounts give Nov. 21; we have not seen the letter itself and treat the date as unresolved) warning that Gotion had not set up the required industrial fire brigade for its high-hazard plant. Reporting through early 2026 confirmed the target: a brigade of six firefighters per shift, around the clock, certified to the same standard as the district's firefighters. At the July 20 meeting Barry read from recent letters (one dated that very day) saying Gotion had only two to four brigade members and was "in the process of hiring five additional." Those specific July letters are not independently reported yet, but they fit the documented history. What Gotion's side would add: the company has invested (a certified fire truck plus, per reporting, more than $1M in fire equipment) and was hiring toward the target; as recently as January 2026 the fire chief "didn't foresee any issues." So "leaves us unsafe month after month" is the enforcement side's framing of a real, ongoing staffing gap, not proof the plant is unsafe today. One more thing to square: Gesky said on the tape (1:12:05) that the trustees' outline tracks "the occupancy permit that they've been granted through BNF technical," so the plant already held an occupancy permit that night, whatever the earlier fire-district letters said about conditioning one on a signed agreement.
This accurately describes the document the trustees handed out: a written set of requirements tied to Gotion's occupancy permit, with a July 31 deadline to sign and an Aug. 31 deadline to be fully staffed, backed by the threat to pull the occupancy permit. That lever is real. Fire-district letters had already said a Certificate of Occupancy could not issue until a compliance agreement was signed; by July 20, though, Gesky said Gotion had been "granted" an occupancy permit "through BNF technical" (1:12:05), so the threat is to pull a permit the plant already holds, and a plant generally cannot legally operate without a valid occupancy permit. The agreement also reportedly includes call-in rules (six hours' notice of staffing shortfalls to dispatch), a required production halt if staffing drops below four firefighters without an incident commander, and surprise inspections. The trustees voiced their own caveat: Barry predicted that if the village pulls the permit, "they're going to turn around and sue us," so this could still end up in court. The Michigan case (Fact Check c35) shows an operating plant is hard and expensive to force shut.
The math checks out. A six-per-shift brigade on a standard 24-on, 48-off rotation needs about 18 firefighters on the roster to keep six on duty at all times, and Manteno's own fire staffing was described at the meeting as about six on shift for a 50-to-70-square-mile township. So putting roughly six trained firefighters on one site is, by the numbers, heavy coverage, and Hansen's comfort with the staffing plan is a reasonable professional call. This is opinion, fairly grounded. We grade the numbers behind it, not his comfort level. Where he got the science wrong is a separate claim about thermal runaway "under load," graded below.
The numbers thrown around during committee reports and comments.
The figures are in the right ballpark, but the framing is off. The village's own FAQ says the property was taxed at "just shy of $1 million" before and is now capped at $2 million a year, which the village called about a "105%" increase; against a $900K baseline it is about 122%. So Gesky's numbers and his "about 120%" are fine. What the "in one year" line leaves out: the jump to $2M is not a surprise reassessment. It is a deliberately negotiated tax cap that holds Gotion's real-estate taxes at $2M a year for 30 years. Without that cap, the finished plant would be taxed much higher: the site was assessed at nearly $25 million in 2024, which at normal rates would produce a bill well above $2M. So the $2M is a ceiling the taxing bodies agreed to, not an organic 120% hike, which actually cuts against Gesky's own point that it was "such a great deal." His idea to offer residents the same 30-year freeze by referendum is a proposal, not a fact to check.
The incentive package is well documented: about $536 million total. Roughly $213M in state REV tax credits over 30 years, $125M in state capital grants, and the local $2M-a-year, 30-year property-tax cap agreed to by the village, the county, and other taxing bodies. All of it depends on Gotion investing at least $1.9 billion, with about 2,600 jobs promised. A resident's "2,000 jobs" is just a rounded-down version of the 2,600 figure. Separately, a speaker said "the town is $1.6 million in debt." We found no public source for that specific village-debt number, so treat it as an unverified resident claim.
On current headcount: the last publicly reported figure was about 300 employees (November 2025), with 450 planned by the end of that year. The trustees' "375/390" fits growth from there, and four days after the meeting Shaw Local (July 24, 2026) reported 390 employees, which matches the higher figure (added September 22, 2026). On the "guaranteed by end of 2026" number: the signed state REV agreement's binding job targets are 150 new jobs by Dec. 31, 2028 and 1,651 by Dec. 31, 2029 (2,612 total over the term). There is no year-end-2026 job requirement in the agreement. So the "490 / 473 guaranteed by 2026" looks like a mix-up between Gotion's public hiring targets and its legal milestones; we cannot source it to any contract. The "supposed to be local jobs" point has real backing: the company says 90%+ of hires are local (about 19% in Manteno, about 62% in Kankakee County of the first 300). The trustees said out loud they were unsure, which is fair. This card just fills in what the documents actually commit Gotion to.
The mayor's letter reached back to the sale of the village water and sewer systems.
The sale history checks out. Aqua Illinois bought Manteno's water system for $4.5 million (closed June 2007) and its sewer system for $25 million (transferred July 2018), so about $29.5 million combined. "Over $25 million" is accurate; the sewer sale alone was $25M. The systems are now owned by a for-profit utility, as the mayor says. Fair context: then-Mayor Nugent's argument was that village-owned water would likely cost even more today, given a needed roughly $25M filtration plant and an aging sewer plant. The mayor counters that residents now pay permanent bills to a private company. Both the sale figures and the "for-profit, permanent" description are accurate. Whether it was a good deal is a value judgment, and a fair one to argue.
Aqua Illinois did file a rate-increase request in 2026, and the total is $26.5 million ($19.47M water plus $7.03M wastewater), pending before the Illinois Commerce Commission as Docket 26-0495. So "$26 million" is a slight round-down of a real, current filing. The context: this is a statewide Aqua Illinois rate case affecting all of the utility's Illinois customers, not a Manteno-only charge, and it is a request under review, not an approved increase. The Citizens Utility Board criticized it on July 6, 2026, estimating a typical residential bill could rise about $23.79 a month (about 15%). Accurate in substance; worth knowing it is a statewide ask still awaiting a decision.
We cannot confirm or refute this from public sources. Tim Nugent as the "former mayor" is established (he served 2005 to 2025 and oversaw both sales). But no available news archive or meeting record documents who spoke at the sewer-sale public comment, or a Nugent relative speaking for Aqua. This rests on the mayor's own memory of a meeting around 2017 to 2018 and could only be checked against the original minutes or video, which are not online. We present it as her assertion, not a fact.
No public record we can find backs this specific sequence, that named staff were fired and replaced by the former mayor's wife and a trustee's wife. It is an allegation about hiring in a past administration. The forensic audit that examined that administration found family-connected contracting (see j1) but did not include this hiring claim, and the auditors reported no fraud. Out of fairness to people who are not public officials, we do not name or describe private individuals based on an unsupported claim. "Unsupported" means no document backs it yet, not that it has been disproven.
Two claims she made about her win and her role beyond the village.
In the April 1, 2025 election, the mayor's Freedom Party slate won four of the five contested offices: village president (LaMore), village clerk (Kerri Rolniak, who later resigned, effective Nov. 30, 2025), and two of three trustee seats (Peggy Vaughn and Michael Barry). The one opposing (Choice Party) winner among those seats was Trustee C.J. Boudreau. So "four out of five candidates who shared a vision" fairly describes the slate's showing. Worth not confusing this with the separate "four trustees" the mayor elsewhere describes as opposing her. That is a different group, the four-member board majority she is now in court with, which includes trustees who were not on either 2025 ballot line.
We found no public reporting, minutes, or association page confirming or contradicting that LaMore was elected chair of the Kankakee County Mayors Association in 2026. That is not surprising, since the group keeps little public web presence and its officer elections are not usually covered. This is a low-stakes claim that is easy for the association itself to settle, but we cannot verify it today. No reason to doubt it, simply unconfirmed.
Residents spoke passionately about battery-fire dangers. These are checked on the facts, with respect for the people who raised them. Several concerns are legitimate even where the specific figures are off.
The event is real, the June 2021 lithium-battery fire at a former paper-mill warehouse in Morris, Illinois (about 90 tons of batteries), but the figures are far off. The active fire was largely knocked down within about 36 hours, not six weeks. Batteries smoldered and needed monitoring for a few days; the year-plus timeline people remember was the cleanup and removal, not an active fire. The evacuation was about a half-mile radius, well under one square mile, not 16, covering roughly 3,000 to 4,000 residents for a few days. And it was ordered by the Morris Fire Protection District and Grundy County emergency management, not the EPA; the EPA helped with air monitoring. The worry about a big lithium fire is legitimate. These particular numbers are not.
The August 2015 Tianjin explosions were real and catastrophic, but every cited figure is off. The two blasts registered magnitude 2.3 and 2.9, not 3.2. The final death toll was 173 (with hundreds injured), a severe toll but not "thousands." Serious structural damage reached roughly 2 km (about 1.5 miles), not a six-mile radius of destroyed homes. And Tianjin was mainly a chemical-warehouse disaster (ammonium nitrate, calcium carbide, sodium cyanide), not a battery event, which limits how well it fits a battery-plant debate. The instinct that a big industrial accident can be devastating is understandable. This example's specifics do not hold up.
Rooftop solar really does complicate firefighting. Panels stay energized in daylight even with building power off (a shock hazard), they block roof access and ventilation cuts, add weight, and can force crews to change tactics. Fire-service research (UL's Fire Safety Research Institute; CTIF) documents all of this, so the concern is legitimate. But "cannot vent" is too absolute. The accurate version is that solar panels can prevent or restrict venting in the area they cover and make firefighters work around them, not that venting is flatly impossible whenever panels are present. Real issue, overstated wording.
This is mostly solid fire science. Lithium-ion thermal runaway does release carbon monoxide, hydrogen fluoride (which becomes hydrofluoric acid on contact with moisture, one of the most-cited hazards, from the battery's electrolyte), and can produce hydrogen cyanide (more variable, depending on chemistry). Those three belong on the list. The outlier is cobalt: it is a cathode metal that shows up in soot and firewater residue, not a released "gas." So the toxic-emissions concern is largely correct; the only fix is that cobalt is a particle and contamination hazard, not one of the gases.
This one is not supported by fire science. Thermal runaway is not limited to batteries "under load" (actively discharging). UL and fire-research sources list triggers that happen regardless of load: internal short circuits from manufacturing defects (directly relevant in a plant that makes cells), overcharging, physical damage, and outside heat, including fire spreading from a nearby cell. The Morris fire (see j24) involved batteries in storage, not under load. It is fair to say a well-run plant with proper controls, spacing, and low charge is lower risk than a big charged storage site, but the "only under load" premise is inaccurate. We grade the science, not his intent. His staffing testimony (see j13) stands on much firmer ground.
A public exchange over how the board confirms its attorney.
This exchange is more analogy than fact, but two points are checkable. First, incoming U.S. presidents usually install their own Attorney General rather than keep the last one, at least when the party changes, so "how many were kept" is a short list, and the speaker is right that a new executive usually replaces the top lawyer. Second, correcting the speaker: no U.S. Attorney General is "appointed by the Senate." The President nominates and appoints the AG with the Senate's advice and consent. The Senate confirms, it does not appoint. That is actually the comparison Boudreau was drawing (the board consents to the mayor's nominee), so the "advice and consent" analogy to a village board is reasonable, even if "appointed by the Senate" was imprecise. For how Manteno law actually works, though, the real answer is in j8 and the legal analysis, not the federal comparison.
Grades reflect the meeting recording and the documents as of July 22, 2026. This page will be updated as the village's refiled case, the fire-brigade deadlines (July 31 and Aug. 31), and any released minutes or letters change the picture. Have a document that changes a verdict? Use the form below.
If a verdict here is wrong, or you have the letters, minutes, or agreement referenced at the meeting, we want to see it. Name and email are optional.