Little Pink House Part 5

Milne smiled and thanked him for his support.

The following morning, the newspaper ran a headline announcing that Pfizer had interest in the mill site, though the story quoted a Pfizer's spokeswoman who insisted she had no information about her company's possible plans to build in New London.

A couple of days later, the newspaper planned a follow-up story, reporting that the state's Bond Commission, chaired by Governor Rowland, planned to review a request for $185 million to fund a New London waterfront project. The bonding request indicated the NLDC planned to spearhead the project, which involved an unconfirmed Fortune Fortune 500 company. The paper planned to report that Pfizer was the company. It called Claire for a comment. 500 company. The paper planned to report that Pfizer was the company. It called Claire for a comment.

Claire declined to talk. Instead, she dispatched a Connecticut College spokesman, who told the paper there was no firm commitment from Pfizer. "The funds would get the site ready for marketing," the spokesman told the Day Day. "It could be any business or corporation."

The last time Tim LeBlanc had tried telling Susette he loved her, he had gotten an earful. This time, he decided to write his feelings down. He left a letter on her kitchen table.

Tears ran down Susette's face when she read it. She couldn't deny how strongly she felt for him. As a little girl, daughter of a single mother, Susette had learned to take care of herself. Then she had taken care of five sons. She had even cleaned up after her two husbands. As a medic and an aspiring nurse, she felt like she would always be taking care of somebody.

LeBlanc offered something she had never found in anyone, much less in a man: someone to take care of her. She looked forward to that for a change. She just couldn't bring herself to verbalize affection.

That night she penned him a letter.

Dear Tim,As I read your letter I wept.You asked me to reveal what you saw in my eyes.They are telling you that I am in love with you.Suz Q.

She wiped away a tear and tucked the letter in her notebook. She never gave it to him.

February 3, 1998 A chilling breeze swept off the water at the New London port. Claire boarded a ferry dressed in a short skirt, displaying her legs on a cold February day. The weather didn't faze her. The glances she got buoyed her, as did her company, Governor Rowland and George Milne. Hundreds of VIP guests were on hand for the formal announcement that Pfizer had selected New London for its new research and development headquarters.

As the most powerful political and business leaders on board, Rowland and Milne dressed the part: fashionable business suits, pressed shirts, power ties, and neatly tailored haircuts. But Claire stole the show. Her knack for the spectacular turned a press conference into a coronation. She had arranged for a ferry to transport the crowd down the Thames River during the announcement. Food, beverages, and entertainment abounded. Reporters and photographers were on hand. And every person of influence in the city had gotten an invitation. Even members of Connecticut's congressional delegation showed up. No one staged an event like Claire did.

On board, the governor announced the sweeping package of financial incentives and commitments to the city and Pfizer. "This is going to make this a formidable location, with a quality of life second to none," Rowland said. "I've never seen a community come together with such force, creativity, and vision."

Antic.i.p.ating press questions about the amount of money he had committed to helping Pfizer, Rowland insisted the spending was justified. "What I saw in this community was a spirit, a hunger, an interest in doing something good for this area," Rowland said. "I saw a community really willing and able to develop, with some natural-born leaders." He singled out Milne and Claire.

"This will be a center for clinicians and scientists who lead worldwide research," Milne told the crowd. "The relationship between Pfizer and southeastern Connecticut is solid. There's an enormous opportunity for continued growth. This allows us to remain very compet.i.tive on a global level."

Satisfied, Claire smiled before speaking. Without her, Pfizer would never have selected New London, and the state would not have committed nearly $100 million. She had transformed a pipe dream into a ma.s.sive development backed by big business and state government. Yet she deflected the credit. "It was teamwork and a commitment to 'on time, on budget, and on goal' delivery that created the momentum," Claire told the crowd.

The politicians smiled. It was party time. New London's ship had finally come in. And Claire was the captain.

"We thought of the idea of putting everybody on the ferry and taking them to the site," Claire recalled. "People cried. It was like a dream come true was right around the corner."

12.

BAD BLOOD FORMING.

Pfizer to Expand into New London."

Susette saw the headline the minute she walked into a convenience store to pay for gas.

Why would Pfizer want to come to New London? she wondered, but she didn't give it much more thought. she wondered, but she didn't give it much more thought.

Later that day, she saw Von Winkle. "So, you're all dressed up today," she said, making fun of the fact that his shirt was tucked in.

He brought up the Pfizer story.

She asked what he thought about it.

He laughed. "Maybe I can finally get out of here and get paid for my buildings," he said. Susette sensed he was serious.

Von Winkle was way ahead of her. He explained that he had already talked to Steve Percy at the NLDC and told him his price for all of his buildings in the neighborhood: $700,000.

Susette didn't get it, so he spelled it out for her: if Percy came up with $700,000 and dealt fairly with him, Von Winkle would sell.

"Well, I'm not planning on going anywhere," she said. "I just got here."

The NLDC set an ambitious timetable to acquire the properties in and around the Fort Trumbull neighborhood. In all, it wanted close to one hundred properties. The responsibility for coordinating the acquisitions fell to Steve Percy, whose real-estate office employed agents who were capable of knocking on doors and offering money to property owners in exchange for options on their property.

Besides all the commercial and industrial properties around Fort Trumbull, between seventy-five and one hundred people resided in the area. The occupants had a median annual family income of $21,250, ranking them among some of the poorest people in the city. While waiting for the purchasing funds to arrive from the state, the NLDC had a plan to persuade the residents to sell out fast. It authorized Percy's real-estate agents to offer $1,000 to each property owner who optioned his or her land to the NLDC. To motivate the agents to go after the options aggressively, the NLDC established a compensation scale for the agents. For the first twenty-five options secured, agents received $3,000 per property. For the next sixteen options secured, agents received $4,000 per property. Any additional options would net agents $6,000 each.

The financial incentives touched off a frenzy among real-estate agents. Within a week, brokers knocked on nearly every door in the neighborhood. Confused and scared, the residents didn't know what to do. Approximately twenty homeowners immediately granted options on their land. Most indicated they would sell if they had no choice.

Percy gave Claire and Milne a progress update: "An incomplete review of the 55 properties not under option indicates the following," he wrote. "Twenty-four of the properties should be under option within two to three weeks. Seven more may be under option within five weeks. Nine properties would require a higher than fair market price for the option. The remaining properties would be difficult."

With so many properties changing hands so quickly, Percy's firm stood to make a bundle on the transactions. The closings also promised a windfall to the NLDC's law firm, Waller, Smith & Palmer. Percy provided the firm a list of the addresses of the properties. The law firm agreed to perform t.i.tle searches, to prepare all closing doc.u.ments, and to represent the NLDC at approximately seventy closings at a minimum fee of $550 per closing.

His winter vacation finished, Day Day publisher Reid MacCluggage headed back to Connecticut. While away, he had kept a close eye on the events unfolding between the NLDC and Pfizer. He liked the fact that Pfizer had selected New London-the city needed a boost. publisher Reid MacCluggage headed back to Connecticut. While away, he had kept a close eye on the events unfolding between the NLDC and Pfizer. He liked the fact that Pfizer had selected New London-the city needed a boost.

Only one item gave MacCluggage pause: his paper reported that real-estate agents were attempting to buy out every property owner in the adjacent neighborhoods, which would enable the NLDC to carry out a redevelopment vision that went far beyond simply bringing Pfizer to New London.

G.o.d, I hope we don't use eminent domain to do this, MacCluggage thought.

Then, on his first day back at the newspaper, MacCluggage heard that Claire had been telling people he had broken his agreement with her. He figured he'd deal with the situation head-on. After all, Claire had never been shy about calling him up when she had a complaint about press coverage. "Reid, this is Claire," she had begun one phone call to his office shortly after becoming president of Connecticut College. "You know that story you had today was bull-a-sheet-a," she had said, mimicking the way her Italian father used to say "bulls.h.i.t."

As far as MacCluggage was concerned, Claire had the story wrong this time. He called her at the college to arrange a meeting. Claire insisted she was too tied up to meet with him. MacCluggage said he would come at the soonest opening in her schedule. She said she'd have her chief of staff get back to him to arrange a time to meet.

That evening, MacCluggage and Claire were scheduled to be dinner guests at the home of Rear Admiral Malcolm I. f.a.ges, commander of Submarine Group 2 at the naval base in nearby Groton. Both their spouses also attended, along with a number of other guests. MacCluggage and Claire exchanged chilly greetings. Otherwise, they confined their dialogue to superficial c.o.c.ktail talk. At the end of the evening, they said good-bye. It was the last time the two would speak to each other.

Susette usually didn't bother reading the newspaper. But after spotting the Pfizer headline and talking to Von Winkle, she started buying it every day. A couple of weeks after the Pfizer news broke, she read a story quoting Steve Percy. He said he hoped the NLDC wouldn't have to resort to eminent domain to take property from owners who refused to sell. But he wouldn't rule it out.

Eminent domain? Susette had never dealt with eminent domain, the government's power to take private property for public use. States and munic.i.p.alities can legally seize an individual's land, but the Fifth Amendment of the U.S. Const.i.tution limits the power to instances of public use, and it requires just compensation. Susette had never dealt with eminent domain, the government's power to take private property for public use. States and munic.i.p.alities can legally seize an individual's land, but the Fifth Amendment of the U.S. Const.i.tution limits the power to instances of public use, and it requires just compensation.

Susette put down the paper and called Von Winkle. He had seen the story, too. "You know what this means, don't you?" he asked.

"I know what eminent domain is," she said. "It's when they come in and take your farm and put in a road."

He laughed. The city had its eye on much more than a farm. Von Winkle remembered the last time New London had used eminent domain, in the 1970s. The city had cleared entire blocks, wiping out neighborhoods under the banner of urban renewal, but the city had never carried out its development plan; it had left acres of vacant lots. Like so many urban-renewal plans, it had run out of money, and the results never materialized. "It's not like New London is a stranger to eminent domain," Von Winkle said. "The city takes everything it wants."

He repeated his intention to sell as long as the city offered him a fair price.

"But I don't want to leave," Susette said.

"You're probably going to have to sell," he said.

"Or what?"

"Or you'll get nothing."

News of the paper's reference to eminent domain swept through the neighborhood. Most residents were scared. Aldo Valentini got mad. He ran the Italian Dramatic Club (IDC), a private men's club located two blocks from Susette's house. Built by Italian immigrants after World War I, the club had been a cultural center for Italian musicals and plays in the thirties, forties, and fifties. More recently it had become a hot spot for politicians seeking votes and financial support. No elected official made it through New London without attending ziti-and-garlic-bread dinners and making speeches at the IDC.

Valentini ran the IDC with an iron hand, controlling everything from exclusive membership rules to visitation rights. Only certain families could obtain membership, and women were forbidden on the premises except to prepare and serve food. The idea that the NLDC or Pfizer might take his club didn't sit well with Valentini. He called Jay Levin, a frequent visitor to the club. Valentini wanted Levin to absolutely guarantee that his club would be protected. Levin gave Valentini his word. Valentini wanted it in writing.

February 23, 1998 It was a busy day for Jay Levin. First, his firm and the state amended the original consulting contract between Levin and Ellef. Levin had done a lot more work since that contract had been signed. The amendment reflected the additional work and resulted in an additional payment of $120,000 to Levin's firm.

Also that day, Levin sent Valentini a letter on his law firm's letterhead. "It is widely and completely known that the Italian Dramatic Club is not to be touched by anyone," Levin wrote. "It is the understanding of every agency of State government from the Governor through DECD through DEP through DOT. It is an absolute complete understanding. Anyone who says otherwise is lying to a member of the Club and I will confront that person personally who is spreading the rumor."

When Valentini received Levin's letter, he framed it and hung it on a wall inside the club, displaying it like a trophy.

Steve Percy made sure Claire and Milne knew the deal. "We are not pursuing the Italian Dramatic Club," Percy told them in a personal letter he faxed to them.

Every other property in the neighborhood, however, remained on the get list.

With pressure on them to secure options from homeowners who hadn't said yes on the initial approach, Realtors descended on the Fort Trumbull neighborhood again.

Seated at the kitchen table, her head buried in nursing manuals, Susette heard a knock at the front door. A woman identified herself as a real-estate agent representing the NLDC. Eager to find out the NLDC's plans, Susette invited her in.

"Oh, it's very nice in here," the agent said, looking around.

Susette told her a little about the house. The agent offered her $68,000 to sell.

"I'm not interested in selling my property," Susette said.

If she didn't sell, the agent warned, the property would be taken by eminent domain. Susette said nothing.

The agent insisted she knew how Susette felt. Years earlier, she said, her grandfather's farm had been taken by eminent domain to make room for a road.

"Well, if you know how I feel and you already know about eminent domain," Susette said, "then you have a lot of nerve doing this kind of work."

The agent headed for the door, telling Susette to keep in mind the city's intention to move forward with its plan. "It's better to take the money now," she said, "knowing you'll get this amount now rather than having to fight for it later."

A couple of weeks later, the same agent showed up on Susette's doorstep again.

"Oh, you're back," Susette said.

This time, the agent offered $78,000 for the house, a $10,000 increase from her last offer.

"I'm not interested in selling my property, and I'm not interested in talking to you about selling my property," Susette said. "And if you come here again, I'm going to throw you off the porch. So get out."

"But-"

"Get out before I throw you off."

Retreating, the agent said she'd follow up by mail.

"Whatever," Susette said, before slamming the door in her face.

Days later, Susette got a letter from the agent. "I'm getting in touch with you again to bring to your attention some additional information," she said. The letter included a doc.u.ment t.i.tled "NLDC GUIDELINES." It listed the reasons the NLDC wanted Susette's neighborhood and what it would do to facilitate her departure: 1. The NLDC is interested in developing the property around the area of Fort Trumbull in support of the recently announced Pfizer development.2. The plans around that area have not been developed yet, but will attempt to create an appropriate complement to the Pfizer development.3. Agents will exhaust all reasonable possibilities to relocate displaced persons and businesses to locations within New London prior to locating them elsewhere.

Susette stopped reading. These people aren't going to give up, These people aren't going to give up, she thought. she thought.

She looked back at the cover letter from the agent. "I urge you to look over this material carefully, and stand ready to be of any a.s.sistance I can," it said.

Angry, Susette tossed the letter in a stack of correspondence she had received since the Pfizer project had been announced. Days later, Susette got a letter from Claire that hyped the news of Pfizer's building a four-hundred-thousand-square-foot clinical-research facility less than a block from Susette's house. "I hope that you are as pleased and proud as I am about the news of these major commitments from all involved," Claire had written. "The state is providing funding to the New London Development Corporation to buy property in the area. The properties that NLDC is interested in are ... all of the properties in the Fort Trumbull area from the Amtrak rail line to the NUWC property line."

Claire made a point of emphasizing that Pfizer was not the buyer of the properties. Susette laughed. "The NLDC doesn't intend to cause any unnecessary hardships," Claire said. "Every effort will be made to make your move as convenient as possible for you."

At the close of the letter, Claire left a phone number for her and Steve Percy and invited Susette to call if she had questions that couldn't be answered by the real-estate agents.

Worked up, Susette called Von Winkle. "She isn't even asking me," Susette said. "She is telling me: 'Pack up and get the f-- out.'"

Von Winkle had gotten a letter, too. But he wasn't angry. As long as the NLDC met his price, he'd go.

"Claire Gaudiani thinks we're all indigents," Susette said. "Who in the h.e.l.l is this woman? She thinks I would give up my house and move into welfare housing?"

Von Winkle didn't know Claire, either. "They can buy buy my property from me," he said. "But they're not going to take it from me." He insisted he would not budge from his demand for $700,000. my property from me," he said. "But they're not going to take it from me." He insisted he would not budge from his demand for $700,000.

"She doesn't want to 'cause any unnecessary hardships' and 'every effort will be made to make my move as convenient as possible'?" Susette said. "Give me a break."

Von Winkle laughed.

"Who in the h.e.l.l does she think she is telling me I have to leave?" Susette said.

13.

DO I HAVE A REASON TO BE CONCERNED?.

The price tag for altering the neighborhood around Pfizer's new headquarters kept going up. But the NLDC had no worries-it was playing with other people's money. Pfizer didn't have to worry over money, either. On March 27, the FDA and the Department of Health and Human Services approved the sale of v.i.a.g.r.a to treat erectile dysfunction. Pfizer's projections indicated it would do about two hundred million in sales the first year. The profits from v.i.a.g.r.a alone could pay for Pfizer's new research facility.

Pfizer had another reason not to worry: it had the state on the hook. At Milne's insistence, the governor had pledged to go after the vacant thirty-two-acre naval base next door to the land given to Pfizer. As events developed, this was no easy promise to honor. The state didn't control the federal property, and the navy had other plans for its base. Still, under federal regulations, the City of New London established the Naval Undersea Warfare Center Local Reuse Authority (LRA), a federally funded committee charged with producing a plan for discharging the property. The city appointed Tony Basilica to head it.

After extensive studies, a.n.a.lysis, and negotiations, Basilica's committee agreed that a public auction held the best benefit for the navy and the city. Milne and Claire hoped to stop the public auction in order to ensure the land got redeveloped in a manner that complemented the Pfizer development. As a result, they asked the state to intervene. The state promised to do its part.

Under rare circ.u.mstances, navy guidelines allow a state environmental-protection agency to acquire navy land at no cost, provided the land is used for a public purpose. Claire secured a confidential letter from James Abromaitis, at the DEP. "The DEP is willing to take this property utilizing the public purpose provisions allowed by the Navy," Abromaitis told her. "This would provide for a no cost transaction, but limits the use of the site."