Nebraska State Sen. Dan McKeon of Amherst is in hot water over a citation for misdemeanor "public indecency" that’s got everyone talking.
The Nebraska Examiner reported that following a post-legislative session gathering on May 29, McKeon was cited last week by the Nebraska State Patrol after a woman alleged inappropriate physical contact, sparking calls for his resignation from Gov. Jim Pillen and other officials, which he has staunchly refused.
Let’s rewind to that fateful party where the alleged incident took place, with the woman claiming McKeon touched her inappropriately over her clothing, as detailed in the state patrol’s report.
Fast forward to July 28, when McKeon penned an apology letter to the woman—a letter some lawmakers have slammed as a feeble “non-apology” filled with excuses rather than accountability.
In the letter, McKeon wrote, “I’m deeply sorry for my actions at the end of the session when we were visiting that offended you,” but then seemed to downplay the matter by mentioning alcohol and humor as factors.
Sorry, Senator, but citing a few drinks and a punchline doesn’t quite wash away the seriousness of such allegations in the eyes of many who expect better from public servants.
On Monday and Tuesday, McKeon, through his attorney Perry Pirsch, denied any wrongdoing, framing the incident as a “light-hearted exchange” with no ill intent.
Pirsch elaborated that McKeon merely made a pun about a “Hawaiian lei” regarding a staffer’s trip and gave a pat on the back, insisting it was a harmless jest rather than anything improper.
While a clever quip can lighten the mood, one has to wonder if McKeon misjudged the room—or the era—when a misplaced joke can land a politician in such a messy spotlight.
Adding fuel to the fire, roughly half of McKeon’s apology letter was packed with Bible verses, which he claimed were meant to foster understanding about forgiveness.
State Sen. Megan Hunt wasn’t buying it, stating, “Public officials don’t get to redefine sexual misconduct as a spiritual trial,” arguing it’s a dodge from real responsibility.
Using scripture as a shield might resonate with some, but to critics like Hunt, it looks more like a sidestep than a sincere reckoning with the accusation at hand.
Gov. Pillen and other state leaders have demanded McKeon step down, a call echoed by concerns over how his presence might disrupt the upcoming legislative session in January if he stays put.
McKeon, a Republican elected to replace a former senator and a family man married for three decades with four children, has made it clear he’s not budging, standing firm against the political pressure.
While personal grit is admirable, one can’t help but question if clinging to office amidst such a storm serves the greater good—or just fuels more division in an already polarized statehouse.