Part 21 (2/2)
”Were you involved in getting Justice Santaniello involved in the issue of the IDC?”
”I don't actually remember who asked him to mediate.”
Tired of Claire's way, Berliner turned up the heat. Earlier in the deposition, Claire had accused Bullock of deliberately misrepresenting facts about the NLDC's plans to build a health club on land that previously contained homes. ”You seemed particularly concerned about the issue of where the health club was going to be and about what you believed to be misstatements about where it was going to be,” Berliner said. ”Why is that an issue of concern for you?”
”I think it is important to know what you are talking about,” Claire said. ”The IJ gave the erroneous impression that it is the plan of the NLDC to take poor people's homes for a health club, and that is incorrect, and I have to a.s.sume that Scott Bullock knew it to be incorrect.”
Berliner asked Claire if she knew that in their answer to the lawsuit, the NLDC had admitted that a health club was going to be on a parcel that contained housing.
Claire had no idea about that.
”Did you know that the answer submitted by the NLDC admitted that the health club was going to be on Parcel 3?” Berliner repeated.
”No. I still don't know it.”
”Well, you can check. But I will represent to you that that is true.”
Claire didn't want to hear it. ”This,” she said, ”I don't think, is material to what we are discussing.”
Berliner cut her off: ”I don't have any further questions at this time.”
The court reporter noted the time: 3:15 p.m. Berliner and Claire parted without exchanging pleasantries.
Once Bullock and Berliner had deposed all the key players and parties, only one person remained: Jay Levin. As Berliner dialed his phone number on July 16, she wasn't sure whether to consider him a lobbyist for the Italian Dramatic Club, a consultant to Governor Rowland, or simply a fellow attorney. All she knew was that Levin had written a letter to the head of the IDC a.s.suring him that his private club would be preserved. He insisted that everyone in state government-from the governor to the heads of state agencies-had an absolute understanding that the club ”is not to be touched by anyone.”
When Levin got on the line, Berliner introduced herself. Levin said he was very familiar with the case.
I bet you are, Berliner thought. She referred to Levin's letter to Aldo Valentini and said she wanted to get some more information about it. In particular, she wanted to know whom Levin had talked to in state government to secure the a.s.surance that the state would exempt the IDC from being taken by the city.
Levin said he didn't remember whom he had talked to.
But the letter specifically said that even Governor Rowland knew not to touch the IDC. Very few people have the governor's ear, and even fewer people speak for him, Berliner said.
Levin insisted he spoke to a lot of people.
”We'd like to call you to testify,” Berliner told him, and offered a date.
Levin had been the chief architect of the original idea to reactivate the NLDC. He had recommended Claire to lead it. And he had secured the exception for the Italian Dramatic Club. Simply put, he knew where the bodies were buried in this fight.
”I will be unavailable during that week,” Levin told Berliner. ”I am scheduled to undergo major surgery.”
”What about testifying before the surgery?” Berliner asked.
”I am not in a condition to appear at trial because I will be heavily medicated in preparation for that surgery,” Levin said.
Berliner pushed for a deposition from Levin; the Inst.i.tute for Justice could arrange to interview him right away, she said.
”A deposition at this time would be very difficult for me,” Levin said. Instead, he offered to submit an affidavit.
The next day, Berliner faxed Levin a letter. ”As you know, getting an affidavit introduced in lieu of testimony is difficult,” she told him, ”but I will send a copy to the defendants in advance of trial and try to get an agreement from them to stipulate to its admissibility given the circ.u.mstances.” She explained she would be issuing him a subpoena in order to demonstrate to the court a good-faith effort to obtain his live testimony.
She enclosed with her fax an affidavit for Levin to sign. It stated that he had spoken to representatives from state agencies about preserving the Italian Dramatic Club and that he had subsequently met with Gaudiani, Goebel, and Judge Angelo Santaniello at the IDC to argue that the club should not be torn down and that the solution he personally had suggested was the one that had been adopted by the NLDC.
July 19, 2001 After making some minor changes to his affidavit, Levin signed it and had it notarized before faxing it to Berliner, who forwarded it to Londregan with a request that he allow Levin's sworn statement to be introduced as evidence at the trial. Londregan told the inst.i.tute to forget it.
”If you have a witness, put him on the stand,” Londregan said. ”We want to cross-examine him. That's the way it goes.”
That afternoon, Berliner faxed a note to Levin. ”To my dismay, the defendants are not willing to stipulate to your affidavit,” she said. ”I therefore write to see if it would be possible to take a short trial deposition.” She offered to schedule it at a time and location of Levin's choice.
Levin balked. ”I would appreciate not being subpoenaed for the deposition,” he told Berliner. ”As you know I am scheduled for surgery a week from today. I do appreciate your courtesy. I am taking a heavy pain medication and could not proceed in any way that I would be comfortable with.”
A lawyer knows the weaknesses of his case better than anyone. Tom Londregan had a few problems to overcome. The biggest one had to do with delegation.
Under both the state and federal const.i.tutions, the City of New London had legal authority to take private property for public use through eminent domain. One safeguard against excessive abuse of this power was that it was held by individuals-in this case, members of the New London City Council-who were ultimately answerable to voters. But the city council had delegated the power of eminent domain to the NLDC, a private agency whose key members had been handpicked by a lobbyist and consultant on contract with the governor's administration. There was no way around the fact that the city had given the power to take people's homes to an exclusive group of individuals who were not answerable or accountable to the public.
Another obstacle Londregan faced had to do with timing. The NLDC had started the process of acquiring private properties well before it had a preliminary plan, much less a publicly approved final plan, for what to do with the land.
Yet Londregan still felt he would prevail. The fact that the city's munic.i.p.al-development plan included new utilities, roads, and infrastructure to the Fort Trumbull area-all public benefits-seemed to bode well for the city. The argument was that Connecticut law didn't allow a couple of holdouts to stop an entire city from carrying out a comprehensive development plan that was designed to generate badly needed tax revenue and jobs. The law did afford people just compensation and fair market value for their properties-all of which had been flatly rejected by Susette and her neighbors.
Londregan didn't even take depositions from the plaintiffs. Why bother? He knew what they were going to give him on the witness stand: emotionally charged sob stories about being forced out of their homes against their wills.
Even his own mother couldn't influence his thinking about the case. She had tried, on account of the Londregan family's rich historic ties to the Fort Trumbull neighborhood. Half Sicilian and half Irish, Tom had had a grandfather-Timothy Andrew Lonergan-who was the fourteenth of fifteen children. After five of Timothy's older brothers immigrated to America and got jobs with the railroad in New London, he changed his last name to Londregan out of fear the company wouldn't hire six brothers from the same family. He got hired by the railroad and settled in Fort Trumbull around the turn of the century.
Eventually, Timothy Londregan's house was taken by eminent domain to make way for railroad expansion. Londregan built a new home on Goshen Street, within a block of some of the homes now involved in the lawsuit. Tom's father, who died in 1965, had been raised in the Goshen Street house. The NLDC tore down the second Londregan home to make way for the redevelopment project.
Londregan's mother, who was in her nineties, didn't appreciate Tom's decision to defend the city and the NLDC's actions. ”You really shouldn't win this case,” she flatly told her son.
”Mom, I'm doing a job for my client,” he responded.
Yet it was more than a job for Londregan. His legal position was that cities had to have the right to exercise eminent domain in order to survive. Urban centers took care of the poor and disadvantaged. They had low-income housing, Section 8 housing, affordable housing, senior housing, along with mental-health clinics, homeless shelters, and social programs. And in New London's case, a lot of real estate was tied up by nonprofit organizations, government ent.i.ties and other buildings that were tax-exempt. Eminent domain gave cities a chance to compete with suburbia. ”It's the great equalizer,” he said. ”We don't have large tracts of land. Urban centers are cut up into little parcels. Where do we acquire large parcels of land to attract large economic engines to enable us to compete with suburbia? We can only get it through eminent domain.”
The law might be cold, but Londregan believed it was also clear: the city had the right to use eminent domain to carry out an economic-development plan that benefited the entire city.
34.
LIFE IS SHORT.
July 23, 2001 First it was calling up the mayor. Then it was speaking at a neighborhood forum. Next Susette had had to speak at a citywide hearing at the high school gymnasium, followed by a speech to the press from her front porch. Each time the audiences, venues, and circ.u.mstances seemed to take on more and more significance. But speaking in public never got any easier. Crowds and cameras didn't fit in Susette's comfort zone.
Even worse, nothing, she imagined, could be more serious than testifying under oath in a courtroom. Her stomach in knots, she skipped breakfast and dressed for the trial, dismissing all of Bullock's repeated a.s.surances that she would do just fine. That was easy for him to say-he was in front of judges all the time. Susette had never testified under oath.
Alone, she drove two miles to the courthouse, arriving just in time for a press conference outside that Kramer had arranged. Susette spotted many of her neighborhood supporters, including Mitch.e.l.l, the Hallquists, Fred Paxton, and the other coalition members. The sight of so many close friends who had once been strangers when she moved to Fort Trumbull gave her courage.
With the other plaintiffs, she followed Bullock to a microphone as he revved up the small crowd. ”We look forward to presenting our case,” Bullock told the press. ”We look forward to the property owners having their day in court. We are ready!”
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