Part 18 (1/2)
Berliner looked at him like he was nuts. ”Necessity has been so watered down by the courts that it is not taken seriously anymore,” she said.
Bullock knew she was right. In recent years, courts had given greater and greater lat.i.tude to munic.i.p.alities in condemning private property for public use. ”But in this case,” Bullock argued, ”the takings are truly unnecessary. The NLDC doesn't even know what it's going to do with Parcel 4-A.”
Berliner went along.
By the time Bullock and Berliner finished, they had drafted a twenty-four-page complaint alleging eight violations of law. The complaint asked the court to declare the actions by the city and the NLDC unconst.i.tutional and illegal and to dismiss the condemnation papers filed against the homeowners.
Strangers had started showing up at Susette's doorstep to offer support and express admiration for her stand. So she didn't think much of it when she got home from work early one night and discovered a woman on her porch. Approaching her steps, Susette walked past the woman's car without noticing the placard inside the front winds.h.i.+eld. It read: ”MARSHAL.”
”Can I help you?” Susette said.
”Yes. I'm here to serve you with papers for condemnation.”
”Well, I'm not accepting them.”
”What do you mean you're not accepting them?”
”I'm not taking your d.a.m.n papers.”
The marshal stared at her.
”Now get off my porch.”
The marshal didn't budge.
”Get off my porch before I throw you off.”
She left without leaving the papers.
”Don't ever come on my property again,” Susette said.
December 8, 2000 Dave Goebel got a simple message from the NLDC's lawyers: ”The takings have now been completed.”
On paper that was true. All the appropriate and necessary legal doc.u.ments had been filed with the court and served on the property owners. Technically, the NLDC now owned all the remaining homes in Fort Trumbull. But the holdouts still had possession. It fell to Goebel to get them out.
He didn't waste any time. That afternoon, he dashed off a letter to Susette. ”On December 8, 2000, the NLDC acquired t.i.tle to the Premises now occupied by you and which Premises is part of the Fort Trumbull Munic.i.p.al Development Project,” he began. ”NLDC hereby gives you notice that you are required to quit possession of the Premises now occupied by you ninety (90) days after the date hereof, being no later than March 9, 2001.”
Goebel gave Susette a reason to comply. Now that the NLDC owned her home, it planned to start charging her $450 per month in rent until she got out. ”Occupancy payments shall be paid to the 'NLDC,'” he wrote, telling her she would also be responsible for all utilities, maintenance, and insurance payments. ”You should maintain liability insurance in the amount of $100,000 naming New London Development Corporation, as additional insured. In the event that we do not receive a Certificate, NLDC may elect to purchase the necessary insurance and bill you.”
Goebel's tone stoked Susette's defiance. She called Mitch.e.l.l and ranted. ”He's not getting a dime from me,” Susette said. ”And I'm not leavin' either.”
Claire continued to focus on money and image. In her aggressive push to remake New London, the NLDC had spent $28.7 million in state money in three years. Earmarked for the Fort Trumbull munic.i.p.al-development project, the money had not resulted in any construction in the fort neighborhood. With some demolitions complete and the takings of homes in the works, the NLDC needed more money, and it needed it fast.
The governor had put the brakes on more state funding, and the NLDC had already tapped its private contributors through fund-raisers. The NLDC had one option left: borrow. The NLDC applied for a $2 million commercial loan from Webster Bank.
But lending millions to the NLDC carried risks. The agency was virtually broke and had no income stream. The bank wanted security. Once again, the NLDC turned to Pfizer, which guaranteed the loan by promising to pay the bank back if the NLDC defaulted.
On December 13 the bank loaned the money to the NLDC.
The Inst.i.tute for Justice had an unlikely secret weapon in thirty-five-year-old John Kramer. When the inst.i.tute had opened its doors for business in the early 1990s, Kramer worked at a small public-relations firm in Was.h.i.+ngton. The inst.i.tute found him through a headhunter and offered him a PR position. He was quickly elevated to vice president of communications.
Few law firms employed PR specialists, but the inst.i.tute put a premium on shaping the message and mission behind its legal initiatives. It argued cases not only in courts of law but also in the court of public opinion. That meant Kramer had a responsibility every bit as important as the lawyers' work, and the attorneys worked closely with the PR people to craft a lawsuit's message.
The first time Bullock and Berliner briefed Kramer on the Fort Trumbull dispute, he felt a bond with the plaintiffs. The youngest of nine children, Kramer had lost his father at age two. Fatherlessness left him feeling a bit isolated and taught him to stand up for himself and be his own advocate at a very early age. By the time he reached college he had his heart set on being an advocate, a protector.
The Fort Trumbull situation kept Kramer up at night, wondering how to launch the lawsuit in a way that would galvanize public opinion on the side of the homeowners. He planned on a big announcement to accompany the suit's filing. But he didn't want a press conference from the courthouse steps-that would be too much of a cliche. Instead, he wanted a backdrop with real meaning, something that symbolized the struggle to protect homes.
Finally it came to him: Susette's pink house. It was ground zero for the battle. It was the gathering place for advocates, plaintiffs, and protestors. It was the home of the lead plaintiff. It was where the inst.i.tute should unveil the lawsuit.
By announcing the case from Susette's front steps, Bullock could introduce the national media to her and her neighbors and ill.u.s.trate that Susette's home was not dilapidated and run-down, as the NLDC wanted people to think. If Kramer did his job right, Susette's pink house would become a national symbol for the fight against eminent-domain abuse. He spent days preparing an agenda for the announcement and a press advisory inviting national media to attend.
With the complaint polished and the PR plan in place, Bullock caught an evening flight to go to New London.
December 20, 2000 Bundled in winter coats and scarves, a spirited group of supporters huddled in the street outside Susette's house. Inside, Susette and the plaintiffs waited for news that the suit had been filed. Bullock paced the floor, his cell phone in hand. Just before noon, the call from the courthouse finally came. Kelo v. City of New London had officially been filed. had officially been filed.
Bullock and Kramer burst into action. From the inst.i.tute's Was.h.i.+ngton office, Kramer disseminated a press release to media outlets throughout the United States. In New London, Bullock led Susette to her living-room picture window overlooking the street. Press photographers and television cameras looked up at her. Showtime had arrived.
”Are you holding up all right?” Bullock asked.
”I'm okay,” she said softly.
”Listen,” he said, trying to rea.s.sure her. ”This is the beginning ... the first step.”
Overwhelmed, she took a deep breath. This wasn't what she had had in mind when she left her husband and a country home for a quiet place on the sh.o.r.e. She looked Bullock in the eye. ”This is what we have to do,” she said, turning and following him onto the porch. The cheering crowd hoisted signs and placards. ”Take Claire's Home for Social Justice,” one read. Another said: ”New London Destroying Our Const.i.tution.”
As the other plaintiffs filed in around Susette, Bullock stepped forward to address the media and the neighborhood supporters. ”It's great to be in New London and announce what must have been one of the worst-kept secrets in town,” he said. ”We are very pleased to announce that this morning this morning the Inst.i.tute for Justice, along with property owners and local counsel Scott Sawyer, filed a lawsuit that aims to end eminent-domain abuse in New London, Connecticut.” the Inst.i.tute for Justice, along with property owners and local counsel Scott Sawyer, filed a lawsuit that aims to end eminent-domain abuse in New London, Connecticut.”
The crowd applauded.
”We asked the court to declare that what the city and the NLDC are doing is illegal and unconst.i.tutional,” Bullock continued. ”We will do everything in our power to keep these people in this wonderful neighborhood.”
Standing behind Bullock, Susette stared expressionlessly at the audience of supporters.
”As you all know, the City of New London and the NLDC want these people out because they have decided that someone else can make better use of this land than Susette Kelo or Matt Dery or Bill Von Winkle,” Bullock said. ”The plan is to take these properties, evict the residents, and bulldoze the properties. In other words, developers get the land, the taxpayers of New London and Connecticut get the bill, and these fine people get the boot.”
Supporters yelled and waved their signs. Bullock called out the NLDC and the city. ”You let the IDC stay,” he said. ”You know who wants to stay. They're not interested in taking the money and heading out of town. Do the right thing and let them stay.”
With the press seeking reaction to the suit, the NLDC put out a simple statement, saying it couldn't comment publicly on a suit it hadn't seen. Privately, though, the agency was reeling. An NLDC spokesman sent an e-mail to Claire's top aide, reporting that press activity had been heavy following the press conference. ”I did brief interviews with Ch. 61 and 30 and Connecticut public radio-no problems-stuck with the script,” he wrote. ”I'm putting Claire in touch with the New York Times New York Times as we speak.” as we speak.”
The spokesman tried not to sound worried. But he foresaw a problem. ”My only concern with this is just how we explain that this is not taking private land for private development,” he wrote. ”Are the jobs created and tax benefits alone enough of a public benefit?”
As soon as the press conference broke up at Susette's, the plaintiffs and their supporters headed up the street for a celebratory party at Von Winkle's deli. Susette entered with Bullock. The place erupted in cheers. ”Now we're fighting back,” one of the neighbors shouted, prompting more cheers.
Von Winkle had printed new menus especially for the occasion.
”Here you go, Red,” he said, handing her one.