Kick Ass Part 29

Oddly, the county never advertised that the base property was available to private interests. There was no public meeting, no compet.i.tive bidding.

Yet, nine days after receiving HABDI's written proposal-a proposal kept secret, at HABDI's request-Metro aviation officials offered the group a lease.

Acting against staff recommendations, county commissioners in July 1994 voted to give HABDI first dibs on the air base. Another developer made a pitch, but was rejected.

True to form, Dade officials endorsed the HABDI lease without researching the feasibility of putting a big air park in South Dade. Some question whether it can compete with a newly expanded Miami International Airport.

Another question is the risk to taxpayers, if the project flops. The agreement calls for the HABDI partners to invest a minimum of $16 million the first seven years. But most of the development money-an estimated $500 million-would come from other investors, still unnamed.

The county would contribute $10 million worth of roads and improvements. Meanwhile HABDI would pay no rent on undeveloped property.

County Manager Armando Vidal says he's confident the Homestead deal is solid, and the public's interest will be protected. Commissioners will take a final vote Jan. 11.

Many who live near the base-Anglos, blacks and Hispanics alike-are justifiably suspicious and upset. It's not that they don't want the place developed; they just want to make sure it's done fairly, and with the best chance of success.

They don't want a sneaky political deal shoved down their throats, which is what's happening.

Time will tell if HABDI can make good on its grandiose promises for the old air base. What's disgraceful is that n.o.body else is getting a chance to bid, so people in South Dade will never know if something better could have been done.

Greenpalm: A true-life tale of bugs and rats September 22, 1996 You've probably heard of Howard the Duck. Now meet Howard the Rat.

That would be Howard Gary, former Miami city manager and now a star informer in the Operation Greenpalm corruption probe.

While Howard the Duck was merely a lame movie character, Howard the Rat is a true-life crook. He got caught trying to squeeze a $2 million "consultant" fee out of Unisys, a computer company seeking contracts with the city of Miami.

Unisys executives, it seems, weren't in the mood for a shakedown, so they told the feds about the outrageous money demands made by Gary and his corrupt cohort, then-Miami Finance Director Manohar Surana.

Both men were soon visited by FBI agents, who apparently explained with excruciating clarity what lay ahead. Both Gary and Surana agreed to cooperate in the hopes of avoiding prison.

Before long, the men were wearing electronic bugs and chatting up dirty deals. Implicated so far are ex-City Manager Cesar Odio, City Commissioner Miller Dawkins, County Commissioner James Burke and other players to be named later.

Odio has been charged. Burke hasn't. Both men claim they were set up, although they'll have a tough time explaining some of what they say on the secret tapes.

A brief history is helpful: After being fired as city manager in 1984, Gary opened a munic.i.p.al bond firm. His old chums in Dade politics steered lots of business his way, and the firm prospered. In 1993 alone, it was involved in $2 billion worth of deals nationwide.

Bond issues are a convenient way for politicians to repay favors and reward big campaign contributors. Law firms that are appointed local bond counsels receive absurd fees for minimal work. Likewise, hometown bond companies often get a juicy cut of the sales while New York underwriters do the heavy lifting.

The best part is it's perfectly legal. Usually. The FBI and SEC have been sniffing around Dade's queerly allocated bond packages for several years.

Gary entered the business at a time when it was finally opening up to minority underwriters. "I don't think it's bad getting in because of politics," he once said. "I think it's bad if you get in the door and don't do your job."

Or, say, get busted.

Once the feds had him by the shorts, Gary offered to share some tricks of the trade, Miami-style. Wearing a wire, he approached Commissioner Burke, who chairs Metro's finance committee.

Gary offered Burke up to $100,000 if Gary's bond firm got a piece of a major deal-a $183 million refinancing of Dade's recycling plant. Sources say Burke agreed, and shortly thereafter Howard Gary and Co. was listed as a last-minute addition to the bond management roster.

Burke insists he didn't get, or ask for, any money. But he conceded: "There were some conversations which I shared with [Gary] that there was something I wanted...some things we were going to do together. They were personal."

Translation: It might sound like a bribe on tape, but it's really just two guys, talking about guy stuff.

Howard the Rat's role in the blossoming scandal is particularly odious because of the way he's traded on his firm's status as minority owned. His crookedness is a slap in the face of every honest black businessman who's tried for a public contract.

Ironically Gary probably wouldn't be in trouble if he'd been content with the fortune he's making with bonds. But no, he had to go try a $2 million rip-off of Unisys.

It's nothing but greed, which remains a serious character flaw among rats. That's how they always get caught.

Take over city; commissioners won't notice December I, 1996 With Miami auguring toward bankruptcy, state authorities are poised to s.n.a.t.c.h control of the city's mucked-up finances.

But Gov. Lawton Chiles made a strategic mistake by announcing his intentions ahead of time. He easily could have seized Miami's reins without forewarning the city commissioners.

They'd probably never have noticed.

When it comes to taxpayer money, these characters are so dependably inattentive that they wouldn't know what questions to ask, much less of whom.

For years the cookie jar was controlled by the slippery-fingered duo of City Manager Cesar Odio and Finance Director Manohar Surana. Unfortunately, neither fellow demonstrated the fiscal expertise to manage a Crandon Park hot-dog stand, much less a $275 million budget.

They were able to hold their jobs mainly because the politicians who hired them remained, conveniently, uninterested in simple arithmetic. As long as a few bucks were left lying around for pet projects, commissioners were content to let Odio and Surana juggle the numbers.

Evidently they took advice from the distinguished accounting firm of Deloitte, Cheech and Chong.

For example, the city for years failed to collect millions of dollars in overdue lease payments. In real-estate parlance this is called "getting stiffed by your tenants," a technical concept that someday may be explained to the commission.

It took a bribery scandal and a slew of felony indictments to reveal that Miami is sinking into a $68 million sludge pit of debt. Wall Street seems ready to downgrade the city's bond rating to "J," for joke.

Bottom line: If something drastic isn't done immediately, Miami will run out of dough in March or April. That could mean no cops, no garbage pickup, no firefighters, no pay.

So the commission, faced with the gravest crisis in its history, of course has done zilch. Commissioners continue to balk at doubling garbage rates, which would gain a few months of solvency.

Under Florida law, the state can take over a city that's going down the tubes. A special oversight committee can be appointed to handle its finances in an emergency.

That's what Miami Mayor Joe Carollo wants, and no wonder. It'll get him and his pusillanimous pals off the hook. Let somebody else hike fees and take the other painful, unpopular steps necessary to save the city.

The commission's lack of spine provides more ammunition for Miamians seeking to have the munic.i.p.ality dissolved. While those pet.i.tions circulate, Gov. Chiles should move ahead swiftly with a state takeover of the budget.

And there's really no need to notify the commission. Nothing would have to change down at City Hall.

Commissioners can continue to hold regular meetings, just as they do now. Pa.s.s a few meaningless resolutions. Honor a few good Samaritans. Name a few streets after their campaign contributors.

Somebody can even jot down the minutes. Televise it, too, just for giggles.

Carollo can continue as make-believe mayor. Ed Marquez can be the make-believe city manager. As a lark, somebody can even serve as make-believe finance director.

And the rest of the commissioners can sit on the dais and pretend they're doing a job, pretend the city is in good hands, pretend somebody honest is handling the budget.

The same as they've been pretending all along.

Only this time they officially won't have control of the taxpayers' money.

But if n.o.body tells them, it'll probably take years before they figure it out.

So, ssssshhhhhhh.

Miami's fiscal crisis: Look at the bright side December 5, 1996 An Open Letter to America from the City of Miami: As everybody knows, our city is in the throes of a financial crisis. The media coverage has been so gloomy that tourists, newcomers and investors are being frightened away.

It's time to clear the air, set the record straight and take the bull by the horns. The bad news: Miami is so broke that the state of Florida has stepped in to try to stave off bankruptcy.

The good news: Our days of harebrained spending, b.u.mbling management and corruption are temporarily over, because there's basically nothing left to waste, misspend or steal.

Heck, we're in the hole by 68 frigging million bucks-who'd try to rip us off now? Which brings up the first of several ugly misperceptions that must be addressed.

* Misperception 1: The entire city is corrupt.

Flatly untrue. Not one current Miami commissioner or administrator is under indictment, house arrest or the regular supervision of a parole officer-a record we're darn proud of.

Most city employees are honest and hard-working, except for a few deadbeat relatives and cronies of politicians. So what if there's an ongoing criminal investigation. Don't tell us the FBI never body-wired any informants at your city hall!

* Misperception 2: The city infrastructure is a disaster.

To begin with, "disaster" is a relative term. Miami hasn't been flooded by a hurricane or leveled by an earthquake. Most nights it's not even on fire.

And if it was, we've still got plenty of skilled firefighters on the payroll, at least until March or possibly April.

* Misperception 3: The city is a dangerous place to live.

Oh, come on. If Miami was so unsafe, would Madonna and Sly Stallone own homes here? No way. Not even with their high-voltage fences and beefy bodyguards.

And don't forget Pat Riley. He could've coached an NBA team any place he wanted, but he chose Miami. Why? Not just because of the incredible contract he got, but because he wanted to be in a city that offered his family the very finest selection of high-voltage fences and beefy bodyguards.

* Misperception 4: The city is unsafe for visitors.

Contrary to what you've heard, the streets of Miami haven't been overrun by gangs and drug dealers-well, most of the streets haven't. Pat Riley's, for example.

And we've still got hundreds of experienced police officers on the payroll, at least until March or possibly April.

* Misperception 5:The city is a risky place to invest money.

Once more, "risky" is an awfully broad term. Perhaps you just like adventure. Maybe there's some riverboat gambler in your blood. Come on down and take a chance on Miami.

Given the negative publicity, it's understandable if major corporations and commercial investors are apprehensive about the city's ability to provide basic services, such as garbage pickup.

Be a.s.sured we've got some of the most efficient garbage collectors on the whole Eastern seaboard, at least until March or possibly April.

* Misperception 6: The city is about to be abolished.

Again, the word "abolished" can mean so many things. Remember that Miami is more than just arbitrary boundaries on a road map-it's a state of mind.

Say, for the sake of argument, that the city charter is dissolved. The magic wouldn't die. Miami wouldn't suddenly disappear. It would still be right where it is today, smack dab between the airport and the beach.

Which means you suckers still have to drive through the place, regardless of what happens in March or April.

Suarez's act won't play on Wall Street December 4, 1997 Miami Mayor Xavier Suarez is in New York today, still trying to convince Wall Street that the city is in tiptop shape. Before he comes home, he should drop by Bellevue for a checkup.

Because the mayor is either certifiably nuts or seriously under-medicated.

In only a few short weeks, he has single-handedly managed to undermine both Miami's image rebuilding and its fiscal recovery, which were well under way before he took office.

First, Suarez dumped the well-regarded city manager, Ed Marquez. Then he declared war on the state oversight board that essentially had saved Miami from bankruptcy.

No wonder Moody's Investors Service, an important bond-rating firm, warned that the mayor's actions "have introduced significant uncertainty" about Miami's future, and "could disrupt or even reverse [the city's] recent progress toward fiscal recovery."

The firm added: "There does not appear to be any financial experience at the helm right now." In other words, the inmates are running the asylum.

Suarez's transformation from a reasonably bright, thoughtful guy to a babbling fruitcake has been both astonishing and sad to watch. Erratic, impulsive and imperious, Suarez has morphed into the delusional loner we once predicted of his predecessor, the tightly wound Joe Carollo.

Ironically, it's Carollo who has behaved for the last year like a grownup, making levelheaded decisions and cooperating with the rescue panel appointed by the governor.

Meanwhile, Suarez campaigned on the theory that the city's $68 million budget shortfall was fabricated for political purposes by Carollo, abetted by the state, this newspaper and other nefarious interests. Never mind that capable, independent persons who examined the city's books concurred that disaster was imminent.

Once elected, Suarez strolled into City Hall and began firing people. More incredibly, he talked of lowering taxes, a rather unorthodox approach to a cash shortage. He didn't even show up at the last commission meeting, choosing instead to hunker in Nixonian seclusion inside his office.

With each new day, Suarez gets loonier and Carollo looks more like Alan Greenspan.

The mayor's paranoid rant is playing poorly in all venues north of Flagler Street. He got a frosty reception in Tallaha.s.see this week when he tried to convince lawmakers (one of whom he bizarrely addressed as "Senator Cabbage") that Miami doesn't need any more help.

As proof, Suarez proudly pointed to the city's current $13 million surplus-money, he might have added, that exists only because of cost-slashing measures imposed by the oversight board.

It takes a certain type of person to boast about somebody else's hard work, then try to get rid of them. A crazy person is what it takes.

As shown by Moody's preemptive strike, Wall Street will be an even tougher audience for the mayor. His conspiracy theories are bewildering enough, but wait until he tries to explain his choice of Humberto Hernandez as chairman of the City Commission.

As a rule, legitimate bankers and brokers shy away from accused money launderers. Suarez's appointment of the federally indicted Hernandez has done nothing to inspire Wall Street's confidence.

In fact, you'd have trouble finding any experts who would heartily recommend investing in Miami. Even before the election, the city's general obligation bonds were considered "junk," with an anemic double-B rating from Standard & Poors.

But don't underestimate Mayor Suarez. By the time he's finished campaigning, Wall Street could be inspired to create a whole new category for Miami bonds: Triple D, for deranged.

Breakthrough at City Hall August 16, 1998 An otherworldly event occurred Friday at Miami City Hall. Commissioners actually did something brave.