Little Pink House_ A True Story of Defiance and Courage - Jeff Benedict [147]
Bullock liked the sound of that. So did Berliner and Kramer.
Mellor knew the institute had to get the states to adopt higher standards to protect against eminent-domain abuse. The question was how to make that happen. “I don’t know what the next steps are,” he said. “But when I come in tomorrow morning, I will let you know.”
That night Mellor didn’t sleep much. His mind wouldn’t stop racing. Long before he created the Institute for Justice he had read an old NAACP annual report that stressed the importance of the twenty-year public-education campaign that preceded the landmark Brown v. Board of Education decision, which desegregated schools. The NAACP report made clear that public education was an essential part of changing public policy. But Mellor saw a more subtle message: big change requires time and a massive groundswell.
While his wife and two children slept, Mellor decided the institute had to launch a nationwide public-outreach campaign aimed at getting every state in the union to pass legislation against abusive eminent-domain practices.
The next morning Mellor looked at the press reports. The Kelo decision was on the front page of papers all across the country, including the New York Times with a headline reading: “Justices Uphold Taking Property for Development.” The press panned the decision. And the public reaction was universal outrage. Unlike Roe v. Wade, which had seemed to split the country along pro-life and pro-choice lines, the Kelo decision galvanized almost unanimous anger toward the Court. The combination of a hot-button issue, an engaged media, and an outraged public had created a situation that was stoked for a firestorm. All the institute had to do now was strike a match.
Mellor was convinced that his instincts were right. The institute had to launch a national campaign to turn a bad decision into a good outcome. As soon as he got to his office, he again called the entire staff into the conference room. “Next Wednesday, this is what we’re going to do,” he said. “We’re going to hold a news conference at the National Press Club and announce a $3 million campaign to foment eminent-domain reform in as many states as we can across the nation.”
He immediately had everyone’s attention, especially Kramer’s. It was Friday. Wednesday was only five days away.
“I don’t know exactly how we’re going to do it or what the campaign will be called,” Mellor continued. “But that’s what we’re going to figure out this weekend.”
The message was clear. The institute wasn’t packing it in and no one was getting the weekend off. Bullock, Berliner, and Kramer were totally on board. Determined to change things for the better, they felt their drive and inspiration bounce right back.
By the end of the weekend the group had decided to infuse money and manpower into the Castle Coalition, and use it to become a grassroots force to pressure states to change their laws. They came up with a name for their new campaign: Hands Off My Home. And they designed a logo: an image of an ominous hand engulfing a home.
With a brand and an image, the staff divided up responsibilities. Kramer took on the PR campaign. Berliner agreed to work on getting a hearing scheduled on Capitol Hill. She had a connection to a lawyer on the Senate Judiciary Committee. Bullock had responsibility for writing legislative testimony. Other staff was assigned to mobilize grassroots organizers in states across the country. Mellor got the job of raising the money to pay for it all.
Having gotten their assignments, everyone went to work.
41
HISS
July 5, 2005
Shoulder to shoulder and clutching wooden stakes attached to signs—“THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND” and “YOUR HOME IS YOUR CASTLE”—hundreds of people from across the country assembled on the steps of the New London City Hall.
Against a backdrop of yellow “DON’T TREAD ON ME” flags, they chanted: “It might be the law, but that doesn’t make it right.