Little Pink House_ A True Story of Defiance and Courage - Jeff Benedict [39]
“Matt, do you know anything about what’s going on in the neighborhood with the NLDC?”
“No more than what’s been in the paper.”
“What do you think about it?”
“I’m not really sure what to think about it.”
Born and raised in the neighborhood, Dery didn’t want to move. His mother, Wilhelmina, lived in the tiny house behind his. She had been born there on February 20, 1918, in the same room she still called her bedroom. She planned to die there.
Dery had renovated his house, and his family also owned two other properties. In all they had four properties and various tenants in the neighborhood.
“I’m forming a little neighborhood association to try and fight this,” she said. “Do you want to join?”
“No,” Dery said.
“How come?”
“Because I don’t join groups.”
Undaunted, Susette pressed on. But the more she talked, the more she got the impression that Dery and his family felt powerless to stop the city. They absolutely didn’t want to go. If forced to vacate, they at least wanted fair compensation for their properties.
Susette exchanged phone numbers with Dery, and they agreed to start sharing information about developments in the neighborhood.
That night, Susette told Tim LeBlanc how much trouble she was having enlisting people. She used the Dery family as an example.
“These people busted their asses to have what they have,” she said. “To other people it might not appear to be much. But they worked hard to get what they have.”
“Who else have you talked to?” LeBlanc asked.
“Mr. Von Winkle.”
“Which Mr. Von Winkle, the old one or the young one?”
“Well, he’s older than I am. But he’s not ancient.”
“What’s his first name?”
“Billy.”
“That’s the young Von Winkle.”
“How do you know Billy?”
“My father worked for Billy’s father,” LeBlanc said. “My father was a nuclear physicist at NUWC.”
Susette had never heard Von Winkle talk about his father. LeBlanc explained that Von Winkle’s father had not only worked at the navy’s underwater sound lab, he ran the place. In his day, Dr. William Von Winkle had established himself as the navy’s top sonar expert. Billy had a bunch of brothers and sisters, and he had grown up in a very large home.
Von Winkle had never divulged any of this to Susette. He came off as a regular Joe who did all his own electrical wiring, plumbing, and carpentry on the buildings he bought and renovated. She hadn’t realized he came from such a successful family. It gave her pause. Without people like him and Matt Dery standing by her, Susette wondered how far she’d get taking on the NLDC and Pfizer.
“What do you think I should do, Tim?”
“Get out while you can,” he told her. “Besides, New London is a shit hole.”
But she couldn’t let go of the house. She understood Von Winkle’s position—he was a businessman. His properties were investments. He’d sell as long as he received a good return.
But it wasn’t that way for Susette. Her house represented her only possession. More than that, it was a refuge, the place she went to in hope of becoming the woman she had always put off being while raising five sons. She had remodeled the house to reflect her personality and tastes.
She called Mitchell to give her an update. Just about everybody except the senior citizens wanted no part of the association. The seniors were scared to death, but everyone else seemed uninterested in a public fight.
“It’s every man for himself,” Susette said. “Nobody wants to stick their neck out. Nobody wants to get retaliated against by the NLDC. Only the elderly want to join and that’s because they want protection.”
Mitchell assured her the neighbors would come around.
May 16, 1998
Tony Basilica and his wife, Gwen, were in bed asleep when the phone started ringing at 5:45 on a Saturday morning.
Tony didn’t budge. Gwen answered it. Then she tapped Tony’s shoulder.
He opened his eyes, glanced at the clock, and gave Gwen an irritated look.
She put her hand over the receiver. “It’s George Milne,” she whispered.