Little Pink House_ A True Story of Defiance and Courage - Jeff Benedict [142]
It all sounded pretty brutal to Susette, like being on a firing line facing seven shooters. Bullock could barely finish answering one justice before another came in with another question. The hypotheticals had Susette’s head spinning. What did any of it have to do with her house?
As Wes Horton looked on, he was convinced that his inclination to avoid this same barrage by saying yes to a hypothetical question about hotels was the right move, even if it meant going directly against Londregan’s wishes.
Bullock had just three minutes left before a red light would signal his time was up. Convinced he would need to respond to some of Horton’s arguments, he asked to reserve his remaining three minutes until after the conclusion of Horton’s time.
“Very well,” O’Connor said. “Mr. Horton.”
Horton took the floor. “There is no principled basis for a Court to make what is really a value judgment about whether a long-term plan to revive an economically depressed city is a public use of higher or lower rank constitutionally,” Horton said.
The justices immediately asked him where he would draw the line. Horton said he wouldn’t draw one.
Scalia persisted. “I just want to take property from people who are paying less taxes and give it to people who are paying more taxes,” he said. “That would be a public use, wouldn’t it?”
Before Horton could answer, Justice O’Connor jumped in. “For example, Motel 6 and the city thinks, ‘Well, if we had a Ritz-Carlton, we would have higher taxes.’ Now, is that okay?”
“Yes, Your Honor. That would be okay.”
Bullock couldn’t believe his ears. Stunned, he dared not look at Mellor or Berliner. Horton had just conceded the fundamental point of the institute’s argument. He had admitted what Bullock had been trying to get the Court to see all along.
Horton’s answer appeared to stun O’Connor, too. The expression on her face changed from inquisitive to bewildered.
Londregan bit his lip. The one question he had hoped wouldn’t get asked had been asked. And Horton had given the answer he hadn’t wanted him to give. To Londregan, it had landed with a thud.
Scalia made sure to drive the point home. “Let me qualify it,” he said. “You can take from A to give to B if B pays more taxes?”
“If it’s a significant amount,” Horton replied.
“I’ll accept that,” Scalia said. “You can take from A and give to B if B pays significantly more taxes … You accept that as a proposition?”
“I do, Your Honor.”
Suddenly Bullock figured he didn’t need to say much in his three-minute rebuttal. Horton had just made his case for him.
But Horton got the result he wanted. The justices stopped asking him hypothetical questions about what kind of takings were permissible, and he didn’t get bogged down trying to justify where to draw the line between when it was okay for a city to take land and when it wasn’t. It freed him to stress what he wanted to stress—that New London had no choice but to take land through eminent domain because it had the difficult task of assembling a ninety-acre parcel and the holdouts were right in the middle of the redevelopment-area footprint.
“Well, let’s look at the specifics here,” O’Connor said. “Pfizer is already in place. That’s happened.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“So what are these parcels of the people now before us going to be used for?”
Horton had guessed right—O’Connor wanted to focus on the facts of the case. He pulled out his diagram. “If I may show you, Your Honor,” he said, directing her attention to the illustration. “We are out on a peninsula here,” he said, pointing. “And here is Pfizer down here, which at the time of the taking was almost completed. They moved in a month afterwards.”
“Let’s talk about the litigants,” O’Connor said.
“They are in Parcel 3,” Horton said, pointing to it, “and they are in Parcel 4-A.”
“What’s planned