Little Pink House_ A True Story of Defiance and Courage - Jeff Benedict [164]
Sabilia got the point, but she didn’t appreciate it. She was willing to entertain the possibility of lifetime use of the properties, but not complete ownership. A lawyer by profession, Sabilia had adopted Londregan’s view: the city had battled through the courts and had won. She had to stay the course for the city. “Otherwise,” she said, “everything was for naught. All the litigation and arguments made to the Supreme Court and all of our policy arguments would be eviscerated.”
She quickly drafted a testy response to the governor. “The City Council’s position has been consistent,” Sabilia wrote. “The deeds of anything more than life-time possession will not return to the former property owner. The proposal outlined in your letter of today is not consistent with the Municipal Development Plan, with the City of New London’s Zoning Regulations, nor with the directives set forth in the State of Connecticut’s financial endorsement of the revitalization of the Fort Trumbull area.”
After Londregan reviewed the letter, Sabilia faxed it to Rell.
Sabilia’s letter came at the state like a brushback pitch, thrown right at the governor’s chin. The state got the hint: if push came to shove, the city would drag Susette and the others out of their homes, no matter what it looked like on the evening news.
To drive the point home, the city turned a deaf ear to overwhelming sentiment from city residents and voted at its next city-council meeting to commence evictions.
All along Governor Rell had thought New London had been wrong in its decision to use eminent domain and had been unreasonable in its unwillingness to reconsider. The city’s latest actions confirmed those views. Emboldened, Rell vowed not to let the tensions escalate into a street brawl. She needed someone to get to Susette. Robert Albright wasn’t the answer. He had performed valiantly, but the governor needed a closer.
She turned to her deputy Ron Angelo. “You are going to resolve this thing,” she said.
Rich Beyer had consistently brushed off Bob Albright. Each time Albright offered more money Beyer told him money wasn’t the issue. But when Albright called him after the deadline had passed, there was a sense of finality in his voice. And the offer was far greater than any number previously tossed out: $500,000. “I’m told to tell you this is the amount we have to give you,” he said.
Beyer said he’d get back to him. In Beyer’s mind, half a million was still not close to what he would have earned off the properties had he simply been permitted to complete the renovations and sell them. But at this point he was simply trying to break even on his investment. And this time he was convinced the game was over.
He called Bullock. “Scott, this is looking pretty serious,” he told him. “We’re going to have to take the money, or we’re going to walk away with a loss on this. There’s no fighting this anymore.”
Bullock encouraged him to do what was best for his family and his business.
Loyal to the cause, Beyer didn’t do anything until talking it all over with Susette. She agreed he should probably take the money. At this point, even the governor didn’t back the idea of returning the deeds for investment properties.
Beyer called Albright back and agreed to settle for $500,000, plus $15,000 in relocation costs.
Right after Beyer settled, the state made a final run at Von Winkle. It agreed to give him $1.8 million for his buildings. The price floored the NLDC, which felt that Von Winkle was getting far more than he deserved. But the state was looking forward, not backward. Von Winkle decided to take the same approach. Besides, what good would it do to hold on to a couple of buildings in an abandoned, demolished neighborhood?
Von Winkle settled.
Only Susette and the Cristofaro family remained.
“What should I do?”
The question was driving Susette mad. Other than a catnap here and