From city hall to Perry Street, Jim Mee is trying to fix what’s broken — even when it’s not popular.
By Logan Andrew
By the time I finished interviewing Jim Mee, I was helping him haul things out of his basement. “These interviews aren’t free,” he joked. And with Jim, you get the sense he means it — not in a transactional way, but in a very Bucyrus way. Show up, help out, earn your seat.
Mee doesn’t see himself as a politician. He doesn’t talk like one, campaign like one, or, by his own admission, even really want the job. But he keeps showing up, because he says someone has to.
And after spending time talking with him — about zoning codes, the city budget, housing crises, political grudges, his time at GE, and visits to his mother at Orchard Park Assisted Living — it’s clear he’s not just showing up to vote. He’s putting in the work.
From Paint Chips to Petitions
Mee’s entry into city politics came out of irritation, not ambition.
“We got a letter from the city — from the Reser administration — telling me to paint one of my houses,” he said. “I had fifteen houses at the time, and this one had some chipped paint. I ended up spending fifteen grand to get it sided.”
Later, the city rescinded the citation, admitting it was issued improperly. But by then, Mee had already reached his limit. “I’m sitting there pissed off, and my son Andrew says, ‘Why don’t you run for council?’”
He did. And he won.
He admits he had no idea what he was doing at first. “I leaned on people — Mark Makeever, Kevin Myers. They helped me get my bearings,” he said. “But I decided this time around, I’m not going to rely on anybody else. If I’ve got legislation, I take it straight to the mayor. Ask him: Can you run the city if this passes?”
On Council, Honesty, and the Out-of-Town Tax Credit
When it comes to the hot-button issue of the out-of-town tax credit, Mee doesn’t mince words.
“The state says: this is how you fund your city. And we’re sitting here giving money away. That made sense when Bucyrus was thriving. But it doesn’t anymore.”
He’s the only council member who’s publicly stated support for reducing or removing the credit — not because he wants to, but because he believes the city might not survive without it.
“We’ve lost the jobs that used to pay for that credit. Our costs are going up — fuel, equipment, wages. Something has to give. We keep saying we can’t cut anything, can’t raise anything, can’t upset anyone… but that’s not sustainable.”
Mee's not trying to win a popularity contest. “I’m not here to make the popular decisions. I’m here to make the hard ones.”
The Bratwurst Fallout and Council Infighting
Mee also addressed the long-standing tensions on council, especially the infamous Bratwurst Festival controversy that consumed much of 2024.
“That whole thing — the contract, the drama, all of it — that was administrative,” he said. “It wasn’t even our business. But you had people making noise about it for nine months straight like it was the city’s job to micromanage a festival contract under $75,000.”
He praised Councilman Kevin Myers for helping shut it down. “Kevin said, ‘It’s administrative, not legislative.’ And that was that.”
Still, Mee doesn’t pretend it’s all been smooth sailing. “The hardest part of this job? Learning how to deal with all the personalities,” he said. “The work isn’t the problem. It’s the people.”
Zoning Battles, Tiny Homes, and Rubber Stamps
Mee chairs the Platting Committee and has helped pass more than a dozen pieces of legislation in two years — but it’s often a thankless job.
“We’re trying to be proactive. Get ahead of problems before they blow up.”
One of the biggest issues on his radar: Bucyrus’ outdated zoning laws. “Right now, there’s nothing in our code for small or tiny homes. That means they can’t be built, period.”
Mee wants to change that — not just to diversify housing stock, but to keep Bucyrus from pricing out its own residents. “People act like revitalization is just flipping houses, but if we don’t legislate for affordability, we’re going to lose the people who make this place work.”
As for those who say the Board of Zoning Appeals (BZA) is just a rubber stamp? Mee disagrees. “It’s about balance. If someone wants to put up a privacy fence or build an addition — that’s improving their property. But if it’s going to hurt the neighborhood? Then no.”
Caregiving, GE, and Perspective
Mee also talked about visiting his mother nearly every day at Orchard Park, where she’s living with early-onset Alzheimer’s.
“It’s not easy,” he said. “But it gives you perspective. Politics is one set of problems. That’s another.”
That sense of grounding comes from 43 years at General Electric. “They used to throw me wherever I was needed. My best days were the ones where I could help somebody else get through theirs.”
He brings that same mindset to council — practical, steady, low-drama. “I don’t need a title. I just want to make things work.”
Not Afraid to Get Beat
Mee says he’d love to see more people get involved — especially the ones who complain about local government.
“You’re frustrated? Then run. Beat me. That’s how this is supposed to work.”
It’s a message he repeats often — not because he wants to quit, but because he believes public service should be earned every day, not inherited.
And if that means dragging things out of the basement between zoning calls and council meetings? Jim Mee’s got an extra pair of gloves waiting.
