🗳️ The Race Isn’t Over Until the Last Vote Is Counted
Baltimore County’s State’s Attorney Contest Is No Longer Just About Crime—It’s About Conscience
By Barry O’Connell
Annotated Editorial | September 2025
Let’s be clear: this race was supposed to be Scott Shellenberger’s swan song. Five terms deep, a legacy of cautious prosecutorial conservatism, and a narrow escape from Robbie Leonard’s progressive insurgency in 2022. The whispers were everywhere—he’d bow out, let the next generation take the reins, and Baltimore County would finally get a fresh face in the State’s Attorney’s office.
Enter Sarah David. Young, credentialed, and charismatic. A Johns Hopkins alum with counterterrorism chops and a Belfast master’s degree. She launched her campaign like a rocket—data-driven justice, community engagement, and a promise to modernize an office that still runs on fax machines and fear.
But then came the shadow.
Not from Shellenberger. From Izzy Patoka.
🧩 The Patoka Problem
Izzy Patoka, once a relatively quiet figure in the County Council, has become a lightning rod for racial tension and political realignment. His recent maneuvering to block the creation of two new Black-majority council districts—by aligning with Republicans—has sent shockwaves through the county’s progressive base. The map-drawing debacle wasn’t just about lines on paper. It was about power, representation, and the lengths to which some will go to preserve the status quo.
And then came the pool.
Patoka’s opposition to a swimming pool at the Pikesville Civic Center—reportedly due to concerns about “Black teenage boys rubbing elbows with Jewish girls in bikinis”—has dredged up a chilling echo of 1930s America. When signs said “Whites Only,” they didn’t mean people like Izzy Patoka. But now, in a cruel twist of assimilation, Patoka seems to be enforcing the very exclusions that once targeted his own community.
📸 The David Dilemma
Sarah David never formaly endorsed Patoka. Let’s be fair. But she appeared in photo after photo after photo with him—at campaign events, civic gatherings, and fundraisers. Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe it was proximity. But in politics, perception is reality. And the perception is that Sarah David is on Team Izzy.
That’s a problem.
Because Team Izzy isn’t just anti-pool. It’s anti-representation. Anti-biracial Baltimore County. Anti-progress. And while David’s platform remains compelling, her proximity to Patoka has deflated her early momentum. Voters who once saw her as the future now wonder if she’s just the face of a more palatable past.
🧭 Where Do We Go From Here?
Shellenberger, once presumed retired, is now reenergized. Sarah David, once the darling of reform, is recalibrating. And Patoka? He’s become the ghost in every campaign photo, the whisper behind every voter’s hesitation.
This race isn’t over. Not by a long shot. But it’s no longer just about prosecutorial policy. It’s about who we are as a county. Who we stand with. And who we’re willing to stand against.
Looks Like Political Suicide!
In a two-person race for State’s Attorney, 50% plus one is enough to win. But when a candidate starts playing favorites in the four-way County Executive contest—where the winner may scrape by with 40% or less—they risk alienating the other 60% of voters. That’s not just bad math; it’s political malpractice. In a Democratic primary where Black voter turnout is projected around 44%, aligning with the Pikesville faction that opposes a public pool and collaborates with Republicans to block new Black council districts is electoral self-sabotage. If she becomes the Pikesville candidate against the county, she’s walking into a buzzsaw. Meanwhile, Scott Shellenberger is running a disciplined, accelerating campaign. He doesn’t need to pivot—he just needs to keep picking up the Black vote disillusioned by the racial gamesmanship around redistricting. If anyone openly sides with Izzy and his vow to block Black representation, they’re not just courting controversy—they’re inviting a reckoning at the ballot box.
Because in Baltimore County, the ballot isn’t just a vote. It’s a verdict.