So Selfless, Becky Wydysh Nearly Forgot to Give Herself a Raise

Wydysh Forgot the Radioactive Waste and the Opioid Millions — but Never Her Raise

Let's be fair to Becky Wydysh.

She is a busy woman. For six years, she chaired the Niagara County Legislature. She also chaired the county's opioid task force.

She also served as deputy commissioner of jurors. That job paid $116,688 a year. She was busy.

Two public jobs. Three titles. A lot of responsibility. A lot of taxpayer money.

She couldn't remember everything. Nobody can.

Let us examine what escaped her attention and what, by some happy providence, didn't.

SHE ALMOST FORGOT THE NEIGHBORS

In 2020, the county land bank identified radioactive slag at a former drive-in at 4287 Witmer Road. The land bank's chairman was the county manager, who worked for Wydysh's Legislature.

The land bank estimated the radioactive waste cleanup at $1.3 million. They looked for a developer. They got the state to release them from liability.

In October 2022, the Legislature voted 14–0 to hand the county's lien on the land to the land bank for a dollar. Wydysh voted yes. The resolution said "environmental remediation." Not "radioactive."

Environmental remediation. Much nicer without that word, isn't it?

Nearly five years later, the neighbors along Gill Creek got letters from the state. That's how they found out about the site being radioactive.

A letter. Almost five years.

Wydysh forgot to tell them. 

SHE ALMOST FORGOT THE ADDICTS

She chaired the opioid task force since 2017. In 2023, they made her a "Woman of Distinction," saying she was "particularly passionate about battling the opioid addiction issues that have devastated so many Niagara County families."

Passionate. That's the word. Nice recognition.

Now for the numbers. The state sent $3.7 million to fight opioid addiction. Real money. Not applause.

Through 2024, with Wydysh as chair, Niagara County reported spending none of it. Zero.

Ten counties had the worst opioid death rates in New York. Nine reported spending something. Niagara reported spending nothing.

Meanwhile, 92 people in Niagara County died of overdoses in 2023. Another 71 died in 2024.

She left office. Then the money started moving.

BUT SHE REMEMBERED HER RAISE

A selfish politician might have thought about her own pay. But let's be fair.

In November 2023, before the county adopted its budget, Chairman Wydysh called a special meeting.

She banged the gavel at 6:44 p.m.

The agenda had one item: a raise for every member of the Legislature. The chair's pay would go from $22,075 to $27,075.

No citizens spoke. The vote was 14–0.

She adjourned at 6:47 p.m.

Three minutes.

The neighbors on Witmer Road waited five years to hear about radioactive slag. The $3.7 million in opioid money waited two years for anyone to spend a dime. Her raise took three minutes.

That was about a 23 percent raise. On her second taxpayer-funded job.

Why last? Wydysh explained it herself:

"We were focused on other things, like taking care of our employees before we thought of ourselves."

Picture the woman bent over the budget, week after week, considering every county employee but herself.

The clerks needed attention. The deputies required consideration. The snowplow drivers must not be neglected.

Amid these calculations, where was Becky Wydysh? Nowhere in her own thoughts.

Her own compensation occupied such a remote place in her considerations that it emerged only after the tentative budget was prepared. She had slipped her own mind.

Who has time to think about $5,000?

Then, suddenly, at the very end, somebody says, "Madam Chair, what about you?"

"This resolution didn't come from any one legislator," Wydysh said. "It had to come through the administration committee."

That would be the Legislature's own Administration Committee, part of the committee lineup she presented as chairman.

The neighbors waited. The settlement money waited. The raise didn't.

All that selflessness. And still, somehow, a raise.

SHE ALMOST FORGOT HER CONSTITUENTS

For ten years, Wydysh held two government jobs at once. By day she was the county's deputy commissioner of jurors, a court system job paying $116,688. She was also a county legislator, and for six of those years, chair.

Court employees need the court system's permission to hold outside office. The court system said yes in 2015, 2017, 2019, 2021, and 2023.)

In 2025, it said no.

Wydysh had a choice: her court job or the people who elected her.

She chose the paycheck. "It is a part-time job," she said of the Legislature, "and I was in no position to quit my job as deputy commissioner of jurors."

She dropped her re-election bid.

Months later, she was running for the Assembly.

The people of her legislative district? She almost forgot them.

NOW SHE WANTS A PROMOTION

Wydysh is the Republican candidate for the New York State Assembly in the 145th District. The general election is scheduled for Nov. 3.

In Albany, the budgets are bigger. There's more to forget.

In Albany, the base pay is $142,000. That's more than five times her pay as chair. She won't have to remember to give herself that raise. It comes with the job.

Will she keep her $116,688 court job if she wins?

The court system's rules say she'd need its written permission to hold a paid seat in the Legislature. The last time she asked to keep her court job and a seat in government, the court system said no. She hasn't said what she'll do this time. Maybe she forgot.

Ask her what she remembers about Witmer Road and the $3.7 million opioid money before you vote.

Disclosure: Nate McMurray's campaign has bought advertising in the Niagara Falls Reporter. People who oppose him have bought far more.

Becky Wydysh-Led Niagara County Knew Land Was Radioactive, Tried to Sell It

As Overdoses Climbed, Wydysh-led Niagara County Left $3.7 Million in Opioid Settlement Funds Unspent