The FedEx Theft: How a Driver Stole Campaign Donations and Nearly Derailed My 2022 Race 

By Lance Christensen

The following account details the theft of campaign donations during my run for California State Superintendent of Public Instruction in 2022. Since this case is still moving through the legal process, I’ll use the initials, O.P., to identify the now-former FedEx driver who is alleged to have stolen donations to my campaign.

In 2022, I was a candidate for California State Superintendent of Public Instruction, coming in second in the June Primary Election to be in the Top Two for the November General Election. After 20 years of involvement in politics, the legislative process, and education policy, I felt passionately that our public schools were failing to deliver the academic results that California's 5.9 million K-12 students, including my own five children, deserved.

It also happened to be one of the most eventful years of my life. My oldest son was graduating from high school and leaving home for two years as a missionary for our church in Argentina. My stepfather died of cancer as my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and Parkinson’s Disease. We had a multi-acre brushfire on our property in rural Yuba County. And I was working remotely for an educational non-profit while simultaneously campaigning for Superintendent across the state and trying to be a decent father to my other 4 young kids. Plus, the scale and size of California is staggering for any statewide candidate. That year, I put over 60,000 miles on the road and logged 120,000 miles in the air, working tirelessly to meet as many of the state's 22 million voters as possible. Needless to say, I didn’t have a lot of downtime.

Due to California's massive size, my campaign staff was spread across multiple cities: Chico, Sacramento, Orange County, San Luis Obispo, Bakersfield, and San Diego. I even had friends helping from Washington State. Rarely were more than two of us in the same place at the same time, so most of our communication happened over phone calls, emails, or Zoom meetings.

My campaign treasurer is a seasoned veteran of political campaigns and is based in California's Central Valley. She handled all campaign donations and financial reports; a critical role for any statewide campaign. Having a competent treasurer is essential to comply with California's complex campaign finance laws and ensure the timely submission of numerous reports to the Secretary of State, Fair Political Practices Commission, and my home county of Yuba, where I filed my initial paperwork. My treasurer is considered among the best in the state at what she does.

My treasurer and I maintained a tight and transparent process. A candidate doesn’t just set up a bank account and make deposits. Every contribution is tracked for reporting purposes. As such, my treasurer had exclusive access to the campaign's bank account and checkbook, processing all financial transactions. When I received checks or cash through remittance envelopes (donation envelopes designed to record the donor's name and other legally required information), I would deliver them to her in batches so she could record, deposit, and update our donation ledgers.

These remittance envelopes featured my campaign details, had lines allotted for their personal information (as required by law for contribution reports) and her office’s mailing address to reduce the number of times the envelopes were touched and speed up processing. My team and I regularly distributed these envelopes to potential donors at various events, fundraisers, and meetings. When a donor returned an envelope directly to me or a campaign staffer, we made sure it was sealed with the appropriate contact information before placing it in a secure bag for batch delivery to my treasurer. At times, the donors would mail their envelopes directly to her.

This process had worked well for months. We had regularly and successfully sent donations via the United States Postal Service (USPS), UPS, and FedEx from March until July 26, 2022 without any problems.

After a week-long campaign swing through Southern California in late July, I had dozens of campaign envelopes I did not want to take through airport security. Before getting on the plane home, I found a FedEx location near John Wayne Airport in Irvine where I could conveniently deliver those sealed donation envelopes holding generous contributions from supporters across seven Southern California counties who believed in our vision for education reform.

I discreetly placed the donation envelopes into a large FedEx cardboard envelope, sealed it carefully, and handed it to the clerk. I didn't disclose the contents or purchase insurance, wanting to avoid drawing undue attention to the package. After paying for the service, I headed to the airport to fly home, confident that one of the world's premier shipping companies would safely deliver these precious donations to my campaign treasurer.

What I didn't know – and what wasn't posted anywhere in the store – was that FedEx's internal policies prohibit the shipment of cash. I had assumed that such a reputable shipping service would protect its customers' packages, regardless of contents. Plus, I have known many people who had sent money through their service. Security footage would later show the clerk processing my sealed envelope before sending it to the back for loading onto a delivery truck.

Several days later, my campaign treasurer contacted me with a question that would haunt the remainder of my campaign: "Why did you send me an empty FedEx envelope?"

Initially, I thought she was joking. But as we continued talking, the reality became clear, the envelope had been tampered with. My treasurer, who is extremely trustworthy and honest, confirmed that the donations were simply not there and I had no reason not to believe her. Whether she received the original envelope that had been emptied or a completely fresh envelope with a new label remains unclear to this day.

I immediately contacted the FedEx store in Irvine to report what had happened. The staff quickly directed me to the FedEx help center and then abruptly hung up. After spending hours on the phone with customer service representatives, I was told to submit a claim online, which I promptly did.

My initial claim was rejected. My subsequent appeals were also denied. I took to X (Twitter) to outline my grievances with FedEx. While their social media team was quick to respond, FedEx refused to take responsibility, citing their policy against shipping cash and referring me to their handbook, the same policy that had never been communicated to me as a customer at their retail location.

Weeks later, just as I had resigned myself to never resolving this case and figuring out how to absorb this devastating financial blow, I received an unexpected phone call that would change everything.

The Irvine Police Department contacted me with news I hadn't dared hope for: a few campaign envelopes and washed checks had been recovered from the apartment of O.P., a now former FedEx driver. According to the investigation, O.P. had allegedly identified my particular envelope during one of his shifts, stolen its contents, and then somehow forwarded an identical large, but empty cardboard envelope to my treasurer.

I requested a police report to understand the full scope of the investigation, but it took some time before they delivered it to me. This left me uncertain whether any of the stolen donations had been recovered or if O.P. had deposited any of the funds into his own accounts. This was especially difficult because there may be a number of donors who saw their checks were cashed and had no idea what had happened. I would realistically have no way of knowing.

Determining the exact amount stolen presented its own challenge. Since all the envelopes were sealed by the donors themselves, I didn't have a precise count of the cash and checks inside. I had done over a dozen events across seven counties in Southern California, often with supporters I had only met for the first time. Many of them were very generous with their support.

Donations typically ranged anywhere from $50 to $8,100 (the legal contribution limit for the race). Because these envelopes came from multiple events across such a wide geographic area, tracing donations back to original donors proved nearly impossible. Only three donors contacted me months later, asking why their checks hadn't cleared. Together, those three canceled checks alone totaled over $4,000. That didn’t include several cash donations of up to $100. The cash is virtually untraceable if it’s not in an envelope with the donor’s personal information on it, something we were fastidious about completing. Using these verified donations as a benchmark, and based on several key factors, I estimate the total theft to be at least $20,000 but likely closer to $35,000. 

The true tragedy is that I may never know the exact amount of donations that were stolen, nor whether any of the checks were cashed by the perpetrator or simply canceled by donors who may have assumed I didn't want their support when their contributions never appeared on their bank statements or in my official campaign finance reports.

This theft had devastating consequences for my campaign. Coming just months before the November 2022 election, it created a significant financial shortfall at the worst possible time. Despite living within my campaign budget, this unforeseen crime left me with substantial debt that persists to this day. I have been able to whittle my remaining campaign debt to a little over $20,000, still a burden for any candidate who desires to settle all their accounts.

The three years of legal proceedings and court appearances that followed have been particularly challenging. Living in Yuba County, seven hours north of Orange County, attending court hearings has been extremely difficult. I did see O.P. at one hearing but didn't interact with him. Unfortunately, my understanding is that O.P. failed to attend his recent preliminary hearings, and the judge signed a bench warrant for his arrest. I’m in contact with law enforcement, but they don’t have an current status on his location and I’m coming to terms that this case may never close.

This is especially frustrating because I had been negotiating with the district attorney to reduce the charges from a felony to a misdemeanor if I could recover the stolen funds. That possibility now seems unlikely.

The more I've learned about this situation, the more troubling FedEx's role becomes. While they cite a policy in their handbook prohibiting the shipment of “Money/currency/cash (including cash equivalents such as negotiable instruments, endorsed stocks, bonds, and cash letters)”, this policy is buried in fine print on page 160, a section that most customers never see. I have yet to meet a single person who knew about this restriction; most are genuinely surprised when they learn about it.

If a shipping company has policies that prohibit certain types of contents, shouldn't they make those restrictions conspicuous at every counter in every store instead of burying these critical limitations in handbook fine print that no customer has ever heard of, let alone read? They ask you if there are explosives, lithium batteries or other harmful materials in your packages. Why not do the same with money? This raises serious questions about corporate responsibility and consumer protection.

This experience taught me hard lessons about trust, security, and the vulnerabilities that exist even when dealing with reputable companies. It also reinforced my belief in the importance of transparency and accountability, values I fought for throughout my campaign and continue to champion today.

While this theft was a significant setback to my campaign finance goals, it did not diminish my commitment to education reform or my gratitude for the thousands of supporters who believed in our mission. Their trust and generosity, even in the face of this crime, continue to inspire my work in supporting parent-led education reform across California.

The fight for better schools and stronger parental involvement in education continues, and I remain committed to that cause—with or without a formal political campaign.