All of the press coverage of Boston Mayor Tom Menino’s
recent announcement that he would be leaving office when his term expires at
the end of the year brought back a couple of memories. One is of the
opportunities that the departure of a long-serving mayor might provide. The
other is a memory of the departing mayor.
When I finished graduate school in 1983 I was
desperate for a job and lucky enough to land one with the White administration
as an aide to the Mayor’s Housing Advisor. Classes were over, but Commencement
Day had yet to arrive. I was slated to start work at City Hall on June 1st.
As it happened, Mayor White surreptitiously went to New York to tape a
television address announcing he would not be seeking another term. The
announcement ran on the local news the night before my first day on the job. It
was extremely unnerving to watch, but I summoned up my courage and reported to
work as planned.
People in the administration thought I had lost my
mind. No-one could believe that I was really showing up for my first day of
work. They asked me if I had watched any television or caught the morning
papers. I assured them I had done so, and my paperwork was reluctantly
processed. I felt like a salmon swimming upstream as I walked through City
Hall. The whole administration was leaving.
As the weeks went on, departure styles ranged from
orderly to panicked. Typewriter access was at a premium as everyone polished
their resumes. Over time, the building became more and more silent as long-time
staffers went on job interviews or took sick days.
I hung in. I figured I had nothing to lose and
everything to gain. I certainly wasn’t going to be let go in the upcoming six
months (no-one would have put in the effort), and at least I had a job, unlike
some of my fellow classmates. Sticking around turned out to be a great
decision. Since most people were missing, or too busy, or still shell-shocked,
I got to work on some important and high-profile projects.
I helped research and write the first “Linkage” report
attempting to justify extracting concessions from commercial developers to be
used for housing subsidies. I worked on homelessness prevention initiatives, on
vacant lot re-use and manufactured housing studies. I served as liaison to the
somewhat wild-eyed arson prevention researchers, and even represented the City
with the Metropolitan Area Planning Council and the State Banking Commission’s
anti-red-lining working group. As George Washington Plunkitt said (in a
somewhat different context), “I seen my opportunities, and I took ‘em.”
If this reaches any young, newly-minted staffers in
the Menino Administration, they might want to think about sticking around and
making the most of a chance to do some good in the next nine months. You can
always polish your resume after work, and these days you will even have spell
check to help.
Now I don’t know Mayor Menino very well, and he
doesn’t know me at all, but one encounter years ago has left an indelible
memory.
I managed to survive in city government by backing the
right horse in the election to succeed Kevin White and wound up running a
program to subsidize new construction of moderate income housing on city-owned
vacant lots. One of the non-profit
sponsors in the program, Urban Edge, selected a long, narrow site on Hyde Park
Ave. As these things go, it was not a bad site, and my department was backing
the proposal, including hosting a community meeting to make the neighborhood
aware in advance of the formal approvals process.
We met in a church hall in Roslindale on what I
remember as a sweltering summer night. Before the meeting quite got started,
then-City Councilor Albert “Dapper” O’Neil asked for the floor. O’Neil was the
worst kind of ignorant bully, and that night he was at his apex. He took the
floor to announce that although he knew nothing about the proposal, and did not
care to learn anything about the proposal, he was against it. This got a pretty
good round of applause from the neighbors, and I prepared for a rough night.
Then O’Neil, reeking of insincerity, said he would allow the meeting to
continue anyway.
After a presentation by the brave sponsors, laying out
the site plan and building designs and the community benefits of the program,
we asked for questions and comments from the audience. After a number of those
present took their turns, District Councilor Tom Menino stood up and issued the
single most amazing statement I ever heard a politician utter before or since.
It was, approximately -
“I have listened to the proposal and I think it will
be good for the neighborhood. That is why I will support it. If folks here
disagree with me, and want to use that as an excuse to vote against me in the
next election, that’s just fine.”
When media pundits wonder how Menino kept getting
elected all those years, they might want to talk to people who were in meetings
like that one, listening to a guy who stood up for what he believed in, and was
willing to face the consequences.
The infill development did get built. It only took
about 15 years.
Mayor Menino cut the ribbon.
