January 25, 2007 Issue
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Classified Chestnut Hill Local Online Editor Don't Miss an Issue, Tell us what you see or Winner of One |
OpinionThis week I received the following letter from a Local reader: You have a creditable policy of printing all letters sent to you. Why not limit the length of these letters? The suggestion is made in the interest of economy, but it might also help some of the self-aggrandizing pamphleteers learn to express themselves more concisely. Herbert J. Weintraub Mr. Weintraub raises a point that we have struggled with at the Local for some time. As I and many others have written in these pages, this newspaper has long been dedicated to providing a forum for the community — to disseminate ideas and debate issues. The “open-letter” policy, an interpretation of the Lentz policy printed above our masthead at the bottom right of this page, is intended to prevent the editor from exercising too much control over the forum and limiting the expression of important voices critical of the paper or its direction. The fear is that the editor, through selection, will have undue influence on community politics, in whatever form that may be. Coincidentally, Mr. Weintraub’s letter preceded an unprecedented flood of commentary regarding the sale of 8431 Germantown Ave., a flood of copy so vast that no issue of the Local could reasonably contain the deluge. Much of what we received was heartfelt, passionate and well articulated. Despite the relative quality of the correspondence, however, much of it is repetitive. I find it hard to justify publishing several 1000-word opinions that all say the same thing. For this reason, the Local will now begin enforcing a letter policy that I hope will not detract from but rather enhance community discourse. As Mr. Weintraub suggests, it is clarity through economy (perhaps we can call it the Weintraub policy……). To that end, we will ask that all letters submitted to the Local be limited to 300 words. We will reserve the right to edit for clarity and, of course, for grammar. All letters meeting this requirement and the prior requirements of responsibility and freedom from libel will be published. Letters must be submitted to the editor by noon on the Monday before publication for consideration (except on holidays). Letters that cannot be contained within the 300-word limit can be submitted to the Local for consideration as an opinion piece. Anyone is free to submit an opinion, however, the Local reserves the right to refuse and/or edit opinions as it sees fit, with the writer’s input. Some may be upset by this rule, but I think most would agree that it
is possible to carry on the important function of community debate without
needless verbosity.
Long-time residents of Chestnut Hill may wish to associate this vote with Lloyd Well’s “Consensual Democracy” where citizens consent to a voluntary “tax” because of their love for this community. There may be a connection here, but as this is my personal story, let me tell you why I did it. First, we need the money. That may sound strange, given that elsewhere in this issue you may read that the fund has paid off its debt and has substantial assets in its coffers. But these dollars are different. This money is distributed in the spring to the organizations and their programs…the groups now appearing before the Budget and Finance Committee. We are, at best, halfway to our goal. Again, we need the money. Second, we are, for the first time in a long time, firmly on the road to financial security. Yes, I gave because of the now growing endowment. Because of that “nest egg,” the CHCF offers a safe place for a donation. There is security that my money will actually go to a worthy cause rather than paying for past debt. Third, from an inside perspective, I know we are not there yet. We are on the road, but there is a journey ahead. I see new opportunities and challenges around the bend…and we will need the money to deal with them. Fourth, I don’t have to. I hate being told what I must, or should do. I have worked hard for the money I have, continue to work hard for the money I get, and resent any efforts to tell me what to do with it. I am thankful that the demands have ceased and I am free to make my own commitment. Finally, this is a symbol. As I am now involved in fundraising, I find it increasingly difficult to ask you to do what I have not. So, with thanks to those that have given, I say to those who have not…we still need the money, we offer a safe place and we are poised to tackle new opportunities and challenges. You don’t need to give and I respect that it is your money. I will treat you the same if you give…or if you choose to let someone else carry the burden. I will, however, respect your giving as a personal symbol. As a reminder to all, the CHCA/CHCF office is at 8434 Germantown Ave, 2nd Floor. My door is open for members and non-members; those who gave in the past, those who gave this year and those who might give in the future. This year has begun with a wild three weeks and the ride isn’t over yet. As always, please tell me how I can help you or what you can do for this community. The phone number is 215-248-8811; the e-mail is ed@chestnuthill.org.
Setting aside for a moment the issue of manners, it seems to me that in their rush to sell 8431 Germantown Ave. to Bowman Properties in record time and against the serious, reasonable and heartfelt objections of community and board, the CHCF trustees have already declared the CHCA to be irrelevant. Why the rush? Why did trustee chairman Butler sign an agreement of sale with Bowman Properties on Jan. 10, five hours before the public board meeting called specifically to discuss (and, yes, for a vast majority, to plead against) the sale? Jim complains that the trustees were not given an uninterrupted opportunity to explain their decision at that meeting. On the contrary, I remember considerable amounts of rationalization offered by Mr. Butler and company, but his primary message was, after all, that the deal was done. The undertone of shock and anger at the meeting was understandable, given the trustees’ statement at an earlier emergency meeting on Jan. 2, that before acting they would attend the meeting on the 10th to solicit a wider range of opinion. And why, when confusion over the legal status of Mssrs. Johnston and Sicks as trustees arose at that Jan. 2 meeting, did the trustees not work with us to clear it up? Responsibility for that confusion is clearly shared by the former CHCA administration of Maxine Dornemann, the current administration, and chairman Butler. Instead, Mr. Butler, alone, operating under one of a multitude of (often contradictory) provisions in the Deed of Trust, appointed Mr. Sicks and Mr. Johnston on Jan. 2, 2007. The document was notarized on Jan. 3, but not faxed to the CHCA offices until Jan. 10. Not long after that message arrived, so did the signed agreement of sale. We were told by the trustees on the 10th of January that the closing date for the sale would be Jan. 30. It has, however, come as no surprise to us that the sale was, in fact, made final early last week. This suggests that the title search, requested mortgage payments and a previous collection agency debt were all quietly taken care of with lightning speed. Why? Why so fast? The errors discovered in the board’s trustee appointment process offered a perfect opportunity to legitimately step back, say “Whoa!” to all bidders, work with us to straighten up the appointment questions, hear all sides of the matter and start again. The bid materials made it clear that the trustees were under no obligation to accept any bid, and the Bowman Property bid had had its own 24 hour deadline attached to it. According to the Dec. 27 Local, it expired at 5 p.m. on Dec. 22. The traditional relationship of Fund trustee to the CHCA is that of partner, guardian and advocate. Why, then, did our trustees, from the remedial appointment of trustees to the signing of the agreement of sale to the final closing, feel the need to work in such an extraordinary hurry, as if the CHCA board were an opponent to be outflanked, outwitted and beaten to the draw, instead of a partner organization with common goals? Why, when we asked them to slow down, did they rush ahead? As for manners: I was there at that meeting, Mr. Sicks. I was impressed by the self-control shown by almost everyone. And I did not hear you called a criminal, liar, traitor or prostitute. There was great care taken that all audience members have ample opportunity to speak, however, and one such attendee, (not a board member, and dismayed at the idea that the only determining factor in the sale was money) repeated for us that fine old Winston Churchill joke, the one that ends with Winnie saying, “We’ve already determine what you are, Madam. We’re just haggling over the price.” I hate to think of a day when quoting Winston Churchill in a public forum will be considered “uncivil.” by Lisa Sullivan Mancuso, CHCA board member After reviewing the Declaration of Trust with an attorney, my husband and I are not sure that Mr. Butler had the authority to re-appoint you; in our opinion, it would have been more responsible of you if you had waited and sorted out that matter. I suspect, however, that you realized any pending litigation would have put a lien on the property and would have delayed its sale, which brings me to the second disagreement that I have with you. In my opinion, like bulls in a china shop, the three of you rushed into an agreement of sale and settlement with Bowman Properties. As reported in the Local on Jan. 4, Mr. Butler told the Local after the meeting on Jan. 2 that the “trustees would take their time and think about everything they had heard at the meeting and would continue to listen to other opinions.” In addition, despite the fact that many attendees claim to have witnessed Mr. Butler’s promise (I did not) that he would not go into any contract, until the community had a chance to voice their concerns at the Jan. 10 meeting, the agreement of sale was signed on Jan. 10, just a few hours before that meeting started. As you know, at the Jan. 10 meeting, like the Jan. 2 meeting, it was reiterated that the community did not support selling to Bowman Properties, and, also, the Goldenberg Group’s good intentions became public information. According to the chronology of events presented at the Jan. 10 meeting, you [the trustees] ceased negotiations with the Goldenberg Group, even though their next offer was within $20,000 of the Bowman Properties offer (both over $1,000,000). Next, it would appear that to avoid jeopardizing your deal with Bowman Properties, you allowed the settlement to be expedited to Jan. 12. Having served as a trustee, you knew that it was stated in the first sentence of the purpose of the trust that your primary purpose was to “assist in the improvement of the quality of life, primarily within the area known as ‘Chestnut Hill.’” I believe that you let down the people affected by Mr. Snowden’s offensive red and white signs, vacant buildings and current bullying over parking. I believe that by increasing Richard Snowden’s munitions, you further empowered a man who uses real estate as a weapon. I believe that you had an ethical responsibility to not sell that building to Bowman Properties. Quite simply, I wish that you had listened to the community. As for your attack on the CHCA board and attempt to obfuscate your actions, again, according to the Declaration of Trust, ultimately, it was your responsibility, to notify the CHCA Board “in writing,” when your term as Trustee expired. With regard to your claim in your opinion piece that you were called “criminal, liar, traitor, and prostitute,” I was present at the Jan. 10 meeting, and I believe that meeting was taped. I recall no such name-calling, though I heard words like “suspicious,” and one member of the community, who is not on the Board, did stand up and told a tailored version of a story that I had heard before about Winston Churchill and an elegant woman at a dinner party. According to her story, the elegant woman was willing to sell her sexual services to Churchill for $1,000,000 or $800,000; however, when Churchill offered her $20, she said, to paraphrase, “Sir, what do you think I am?” Churchill replied, “Madam, we have already established what you are; now we are haggling over price.” The community member then sat down, without saying another word. However, her sentiment, and the shared sentiment of the many community members present were loud and clear. My final disagreement with you is that the CHCA really does a great deal of good for this community. I am saddened that you would conveniently malign the CHCA Board, over the scandal that it seems you and the other Trustees created. Opinion: Put schools first On Dec. 5, I, along with 250 other Philadelphia public school parents, gathered in room 1075 of the School District building on Broad Street for a meeting of the Philadelphia Home and School Association. At this meeting, Home School President Greg Wade introduced City Controller Alan Butkuvitz to share his insight on the School District’s impending budget crisis. I made a motion asking the Home and School Association to support Mr. Butkuvitz, the chief financial officer of Philadelphia, in his request to audit the books of the School District. This motion was seconded and unanimously approved by the parents and was to be presented to the School Reform Commission and Paul Vallas. Unfortunately, the Home and School association has not taken the follow-up action that its membership, the parents, has instructed it to take until now. Until we have transparency in the finances of the School District, we have no hope of holding people accountable for the way schools are run, and no hope of improving it. The City Controller is chief financial watchdog of the city, elected by the people to audit the books of government operations in the City of Philadelphia. What possible justification or even explanation can the School District give to not let the City Controller see its books? The Home and School parents took this important step of supporting Mr. Butkuvitz because it makes sense and it’s a step toward shedding light on the budget problems of the School District, including any possible inefficiency or irregularities, for the sake of all the children, taxpayers and neighborhoods of Philadelphia. I believe transparency with all taxpayer money is a must; why should the school system be exempt? It will also help to show what I think to be a huge disparity between what Philadelphia schools receive from the State and what other counties in Pennsylvania receive. It will show if in fact we have spent the money efficiently or if we have not spent it efficiently. Bad schools do more long-term damage to our community than any other problem. The City of Philadelphia has no future without its schools. Our schools used to be places where a culture of civility and respect were present and taught to all children; it readied them for life; it prepared them for a place in the civil and economic life of the city. Crime and the murder rate soar in a city where civility and respect are absent from the community culture. Economic development cannot take place in an environment where there is not enough respect and trust to conduct business relations. Outside the home, schools provide more cultural structure and direction to the youth of our communities than any other institution. For that reason, schools have to be community institutions; they must have the guidance and input and participation of neighbors and parents to succeed. All educators agree on this. It is fundamental. How can these improvements be made if the neighbors and parents can’t even look at the books and see how their money is being spent? What message does that send to the community? Transparency is not a luxury in American government, it is the baseline minimum that democracy requires. If we care about our kids, we demand it. And we have. Let’s not just talk about putting kids first, let’s do it, starting with transparency with the taxpayers’ money that is spent in the most important public institutions in our neighborhoods and our city: the schools . Greg Paulmier is a community activist, Democratic ward leader and a Democratic candidate for 8th Councilmanic District of Philadelphia.
In the spirit of the (relatively) New Year, I have a confession to make. I have, on more than one occasion, broken the law — and not just any law. I have repeatedly broken a law sacred to the very essence of the Hill. Two or three times a year I … it’s hard to get it out … the words blur as I type them … several times a year, and as recently as last week, I put my trash out … prepare yourself … before six-o ‘clock. I pause for you to lift your jaw back into place and so that I can self-flagellate. How does it happen? Why do I return to the dark side, a recalcitrant refuse renegade? As with many things, I blame the children. My most recent affront to societal norms came as a direct result of Christmas presents. Santa, not to mention grandparents, brings new stuff. Kids like new stuff, but that doesn’t mean they don’t still like the old stuff, and if I try to get rid of even the really old stuff and they see it, they’ll say, “Hey, that’s my stuff. You can’t just stuff that stuff in the trash.” Thus, I have one-third more stuff than I had before. That means it’s time for reorganization. My idea of reorganization is to further pile, jam and stuff the stuff into our ever-shrinking closets. My wife has other ideas. She believes in the purge. The purge requires actually cleaning out those closets. I know she’s right, but as soon as she says it, I want to take a nap. The other major requirement of the purge is that I must get rid of some of my really old stuff. Throughout years of marriage, home ownership and now children, the space reserved for my stuff, not including tools and books, has dwindled to what I currently estimate to be 2.8 cubic feet. That’s down roughly 1.5 cubic feet since my aforementioned, recent trash transgression. This purge was particularly poignant for me. One piece of that 1.5 reduction was my entire case of cassette tapes. You know the type — faux-leather, briefcase-looking thing that holds a hundred or so. My wife smiles at my angst over such partings. When was the last time I listened to one of those? Did I even remember they were down there in the closet under the basement steps? Do they even work? Do I own a working tape player? The questions miss the point. The tapes were old and probably warped. I had forgotten that I had them. I hadn’t listened to them in years. Most of them weren’t even originals, but tapes I made — or were made for me. They had absolutely no monetary value. They were, then, by definition, trash. I already have CDs that replace many of them. But they also represented parts of my life, particularly my youth. In there were tapes I made to listen to in my first car. One was all of my 45s. One was the first Dylan I ever owned, a mix from a good high-school friend with whom I have lost touch. Others connect me in pitifully nostalgic and personal ways to a variety of people and moments long gone. And yet, yes, I threw them out. The skies didn’t open. I wasn’t struck down. I don’t feel different. I still have all my albums, after all. But in the timing of the toss, I risked the acrimony of the Hill trash detectives. Are you aware that there are people in your neighborhood who have so much time on their hands and so few friends on their speed dials that they will call the Streets Department and report you for early trash placement? The fine is $100. That’s probably not a lot of money to the types of people who call, but it is a lot to me. It was, however, a necessary risk. I want this type of post-purge trash out there in the light of day. I separate it several paces from the regular trashcans, clearly visible. I hope that it will have a second life. I hope that it will be adopted — by the trash-pickers. Once we rule out the professional salvage man, who trolls by in his pickup truck looking for scrap metal, the rest of us fall into one of two categories: those who have, at one time or another, picked, and those that must actually be labeled trash-pickers. As to the first group, at some point in our lives, most of us have picked up something from the curb. If we didn’t steal it, if the ownership of said object had been relinquished by the owner of the curb near which it sat, then, whether it was trash day or not, whether the object was big or small, new or old, even if it was under a big post-garage-sale sign that said “Free Stuff,” we have picked from the trash. Those of you who are scoffing and looking down your long, blue noses saying you’d never pick, ask yourself if you’ve ever been to a yard sale. Have you ever purchased anything? Then you’re no better. You simply paid for something that, if you hadn’t bought it, eventually would have landed at the curb to be picked-for free! Who’s the fool? Once I picked an old, louvered kitchen door from the curb near the Top of the Hill Farmer’s Market. I refurbished it, put a doggie-door in the bottom, and used it as an entry from the back porch. So I have picked, but I’m not a picker. The true picker cannot help himself — or herself. Gender plays no role in the likelihood that one will or will not be a picker. It only affects the genre of what might be picked — women tending more toward discarded children’s plastic toys, or little wooden things that might be used in crafts, and men toward sporting equipment and bicycles. Occasionally the picker makes a big mistake. There was the time that our huge, drooling, loveable and incredibly stupid dog climbed up on our flowered IKEA futon and peed all over it. I immediately took it to the curb. There was no way to clean it. By the next morning, the futon had been loaded into the back of a huge, red rattle-trap Econoline van that often parked in front of our house during the workday. There was nothing I could do. It was summer, hot and humid, and the sun shone down on the closed windows of that van for 10 hours. Gone the next day, it never parked in front of our house again. I can’t swear to it, but driving through Erdenheim two days later, I thought I saw that futon leaning up against a dumpster. I doubt that even a mistake of this magnitude would stop the true picker for long. The picker sees potential in the lost cause, sees the well worn as like-new, thinks a little wood glue will fix this crack — a little epoxy, that break. He has hope. He’s a romantic. I admire him, and I use him. I put things out early, feeling they aren’t really being thrown away. My case of cassettes lasted less than four hours. The soundtrack of my adolescent and college years isn’t just another plastic landfill turd. It’s being enjoyed in someone’s rec room or workshop. Don’t laugh. It could be true. So I continue in my semi-annual outlaw mode, knowing I’m avoiding the truth and probably helping to feed a type of addiction. But the kids have more room, we have less clutter, and all is right with the world.
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