Little Pink House_ A True Story of Defiance and Courage - Jeff Benedict [54]
Shortly after taking on the assignment, he reported back to her in a phone conversation and said he had interviewed his colleagues and gathered their input on finances, curricula, and other matters. Paxton wanted to have the benefit of their knowledge and experience. He also wanted the support of his colleagues.
Paxton later remembered Claire saying, “Oh, no, Fred, that’s not leadership. That’s consultation. Consultation is like foreplay. But leadership is like sex. Then you have the baby down the road.”
Paxton didn’t know how to respond. But he thought he got the point: there was a long way to go, so he should get to work.
While starting in his new role, he read in the newspaper that the NLDC’s municipal-development plan for the area around Pfizer’s new facility would soon be ready for public review. Since he’d been out of the country on sabbatical, Paxton did not realize how involved Claire had become with the NLDC and in redeveloping parts of the city. Curious by nature and a bit self-interested because he owned a home not far from the Fort Trumbull neighborhood, Paxton decided to find out more about the development plans.
He drove to the NLDC office and asked to see the plan. The receptionist informed him that copies for the public weren’t yet available. But she offered him an office copy to review. She handed him a massive binder. Paxton took it to a nearby table and began reading. The material was dense and technical. Most people would not have the patience to work through it, much less the knowledge to scrutinize it. But Paxton, a historian, made a living by breaking down long, complex documents.
He spotted a wide range of development schemes in the plan. But none of the alternatives included keeping the existing Fort Trumbull neighborhood in the larger redevelopment scheme. How can that be the only alternative that doesn’t belong in the plan? he asked himself.
He read through the budget and noted the projected costs to acquire the homes, demolish them, and remediate the land they sat on. It occurred to him that tens of millions of dollars could be saved by simply preserving the neighborhood.
“No need to take this neighborhood,” he jotted down on his notepad.
After a few hours, Paxton returned the document. The idea that the president of his institution was leading an effort to demolish an entire urban neighborhood didn’t sit well with him. With the start of the fall semester still a few weeks off, Paxton figured he had time to find some support for opposing the idea. He drove directly to Landmarks, a nonprofit outfit dedicated to preserving the city’s historic buildings and neighborhoods. He asked Landmarks director Sally Ryan if her organization shared his concerns. Ryan said her organization had grave concerns about the NLDC’s plans.
Paxton asked what Landmarks had been doing to oppose the plan.
There was little Landmarks could do, Ryan indicated, explaining that Claire had all the momentum behind her.
Having expected to find a ready-made opposition plan, Paxton was disappointed. He thanked Ryan for her time and turned to leave. But before he got to the door, Ryan called Paxton back. “There’s this architect who is talking about this and who is also very concerned,” she said. Ryan handed him a piece of scrap paper with the name John Steffian and his home phone number. Not recognizing the name, Paxton stuffed the scrap in his pocket and left.
Instead of calling up a stranger, Paxton telephoned a fellow professor at the college, Jefferson Singer. When reviewing the plan, Paxton had noticed Claire had established numerous committees, some of which were led by faculty from the college. Singer headed up the NLDC’s Social Justice Committee.
Paxton told Singer his concerns. “I don’t understand why it foresees the total destruction of this neighborhood,” he said. “I think there’s a real possibility that a social injustice