Little Pink House_ A True Story of Defiance and Courage - Jeff Benedict [118]
Berliner and Bullock had characterized Claire and the NLDC as an iron-handed group that ran roughshod over powerless homeowners. Londregan asked leading questions that stressed the agency’s strict adherence to a lengthy and complicated governmental process. With little emotion, Claire gave simple yes or no answers. Her only intention in all of this, she testified, was to help turn New London around.
Mitchell glanced across the aisle at Claire’s son, intensely watching his mother defend herself. Mitchell had never thought of Claire as a mother. Bruising political fights tended to obscure the fact that the people on the other side were human beings.
When Claire stepped down from the stand, the judge declared a brief recess. Mitchell made her way over to Claire’s son and introduced herself. “I feel really bad,” Mitchell told him. “Through this whole thing I’ve made some real unkind references to your mother. I think it’s real kind of you to be here.”
“I love her,” the boy said. “It’s been tough for her. I wanted to be here for her.”
Mitchell turned and walked away. She didn’t see anyone else in the courtroom for Claire.
The national media wasted no time making up its mind about who had the better argument inside the courtroom. In an editorial, the Wall Street Journal jumped on the city and Claire for running people out of their homes to make way for a hotel and upscale housing. “Claire Gaudiani justifies the project by saying, ‘Anything that’s working in our great nation is working because somebody left skin on the sidewalk,’” the Journal said. “That kind of thinking quickly leads to government officials acting like bullies rather than servants.”
The Boston Globe called the NLDC “ruthless” and blasted the city for allowing the agency to abuse the public use clause of the Fifth Amendment. “Is that how the power of eminent domain is supposed to be used?” wrote the Globe’s Jeff Jacoby, “to expel families from their homes for the sake of expanding the tax base?”
Londregan and O’Connell didn’t like the pounding they were taking from the press. They resented the Institute for Justice for choosing to execute a relentless media campaign rather than limiting its efforts to what went on inside the courtroom.
Judge Corradino paid no attention to what the newspapers said. He didn’t care about local politics, personalities, or press coverage. He had one thing on his mind: interpreting the law correctly. He knew one thing: no matter which way he ruled, his decision would probably be appealed.
With that in mind, he determined to write an exhaustive decision, leaving no questions about his reasoning. He dispatched his law clerk to compile approximately ninety previous cases with any relevance to the facts in the Kelo case. He took these cases and all the briefs and trial-testimony transcripts from his case to the law library at the New Haven courthouse, where he studied them. It all seemed to boil down to two questions: Did the taking of private property for economic development qualify as a public use? And if it did, was it reasonably necessary for the city to take the plaintiffs’ land to accomplish its development goals?
For the first question, Corradino had to examine the Connecticut law and apply the statute to the facts in this case.
For the second question, he relied on expert-witness testimony. The testimony of one expert, Dr. John Mullin, particularly intrigued Corradino. A professor specializing in economic development and urban planning at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, as well as a Fulbright Scholar and a fellow of the American Institute of Certified Planners, Mullin had been retained by the Institute for Justice to analyze New London’s municipal-development plan. Besides publishing more than one hundred articles on planning and development, Mullin had some specific expertise in the redevelopment of old industrial communities