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to this area, when I was asked to be president of the college,” she said. “When I came to the college, I had a president’s house. If we had not purchased a house within eighteen months, we would have had to have paid capital gain [tax] on the little nest egg that we had in our house. So, of course, we bought a house. The house we could find at the time is on Mumford Cove in Groton. So that is the place where David and I go on the weekends. So I hope you, as fellow citizens, would understand that somebody with my kind of job is basically on a 24/7 schedule. I should have a place to go with my family and be a mom and a wife.”

Mitchell loved Claire’s answer. It gave the impression that her job was more important than everybody else’s. Many people in New London didn’t own one home, much less two homes. People in Fort Trumbull weren’t looking for a weekend getaway; they were merely trying to hold on to four walls and a roof. Claire talked about trying to avoid capital gains taxes; few people in Fort Trumbull ever had to worry about capital gains.

With the city council set to vote on the NLDC plan on January 18, 2000, Mitchell talked with Susette about making a public statement before the vote. Susette felt hesitant; a thousand people were projected to attend the public comment period before the vote.

Mitchell assured her that most of the crowd would be on her side. That didn’t change Susette’s mind—she felt very uncomfortable about getting up in front of a crowd that size. She agreed to attend, but she made no promises about speaking. Mitchell suggested she bring a picture of her house, reflecting all the renovations.

The New London High School auditorium was packed when Susette arrived with Mitchell and trailed her toward some seats near other members of the coalition. The city council occupied seats on the stage. Susette recognized only one friendly person—Mayor Beachy.

For four hours the council listened as resident after resident addressed it in a public comment period. Mitchell kept tabs; it appeared that more than 90 percent of the residents who spoke were against the NLDC plan. Wanting Susette to have the last word, Mitchell waited until the very end of the meeting before she stood up to approach the microphone.

“C’mon, Susette,” she whispered. “Come with me.”

Susette looked up at Mitchell, who was smiling and wearing an old, badly wrinkled blouse and white canvas sneakers that displayed her badly swollen ankles. Admiring Mitchell’s strength, Susette stood up, clutching a picture of her house. Side by side, they approached a microphone.

“We’re coming up to speak together,” Mitchell said to the council. “Susette is not used to speaking in public, and I just wanted the company.”

Mitchell reminded the council that senior citizens on fixed incomes were being forced out under the NLDC plan. She gave a list of reasons why the council should not accept a plan that allowed for the use of eminent domain. Then she turned to Susette.

“I’m here tonight in regard to the Fort Trumbull neighborhood,” Susette said, describing her house and what it meant to her. She held up the picture. “Does this look like a house that needs to be condemned? Does this look like a house that should be torn down?” She paused. “Please vote tonight to not tear down the Fort Trumbull neighborhood.” She stepped back and followed Mitchell back to their seats.

At midnight, the city council ended the meeting and went into executive session before voting 6–1 to support the NLDC’s plan. Only Mayor Beachy voted no. The way had been cleared for the NLDC to begin carrying out the development plan.

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HIGHER EDUCATION

Disillusioned.” Fred Paxton couldn’t think of a better word to describe his feelings after six months of hard work seemed to add up to nothing. The will of the people had been ignored, despite every effort to use the proper channels to communicate with elected officials.

The rest of the Coalition to Save Fort Trumbull Neighborhood felt the same way. Anger filled the room when members gathered to discuss the city council’s vote.