CPT | Cuyahoga Politics Today:

The Cleveland Way

Yet another study has identified Cleveland as being at the bottom of the pit when it comes to quality of life. Or as the mayor might say, the b***hole of the nation. WalletHub, a financial services website, announced this week that Cleveland residents are the most stressed in the nation. We rank first — i.e., worst — when it comes to "financial stress". We have the highest divorce rate, the second highest poverty rate, and are third worst when it comes to "health and safety stress".

Had the surveyors factored in police misconduct, we'd have been a runaway winner.

Let’s cut to the chase. Making our condition worse is that the three public issues roiling the nation right now — the economy, the pandemic, and systemic inequality/police misconduct — all weigh most heavily on black people, and Cleveland is a majority black town. So black people are out of work and without financial resources, going untested and getting sick, hospitalized, and dying from coronavirus, and soon to be evicted, on the street and subject to the whims of hostile “safety” forces organized to contain the unruly and the unwanted from invading or disrupting the peace and comfort of the mostly white enclaves that circle the urban core and its first ring suburbs.

Rank these issues — we listed them alphabetically — however you want in terms of salience. They all cry out for being addressed systemically, which means elected officials need to be part of the solution.

Cuyahoga’s most prominent public officials are county executive Armond Budish and Cleveland mayor Frank Jackson. While these gentlemen have enjoyed near-unanimous establishment support, it's hard to envision two more pedestrian and disconnected chief executives. 

Budish has never embraced the idea of holding Ohio’s second-most powerful elected office — as the position was touted during debate over county reorganization in 2009. And his stature has shriveled since he so badly mismanaged the county jail in ways that contributed to a string of inmate deaths under conditions decried as “inhumane” by federal monitors. He has been effectively a lame duck for the past two year, a status unlikely to change over the next two years.

Some politicians might draw strength from being effectively immune to the voters and find courage in seizing moral high ground. Alas, Budish was characteristically timid and indecisive last Friday as he practically begged county residents to wear masks. It’s understandable that his mask edict was devoid of teeth: the county has few resources to even throw a scare into the selfish unmasked. But odds are he could have assembled several dozen area mayors to line up behind a bolder plea.

Which brings us to Frank Jackson. Frank calls me every couple of weeks, usually just before six o’clock dinnertime. His recorded voice informs me that he is about to speak to Cleveland citizens and that I should stay on the line. His tone is both intrusive and flat, so devoid of warmth and energy it’s like a declaration that he hates the imminent engagement with the people who have repeatedly voted him into office.

Frank has been either mayor or council president since the 20^th century. Whatever ambition or drive or fire he might have had in 1999 has long since dissipated. He is the Decider-in-Chief at City Hall who acts on the premise that if voters don’t like what he’s doing, they can vote him out. Short of that, don’t call or petition him with concerns about a living minimum wage, or lead abatement or budgetary concerns that money should be allocated to basic human needs instead of plush digs for corporate elites [Rocket Mortgage FieldHouse, Sherwin-Williams tax breaks].

Catering to the wishes of the political donor class might be acceptable if Clevelanders didn’t have to live with these realities: a water department that mis-bills city residents, shuts off their water, puts liens on their property, and then forecloses and kicks them out; a health department that supports a resolution declaring racism a public health crisis but is itself thoroughly indifferent to its own longstanding hospitality to that very virus; a top Jackson administration official, James McGrath, who first as police chief and then as safety director [he retired last month], tolerated and condoned, and perhaps encouraged, all manner of felonious behavior from police officers sworn to protect and serve the people.

Or, failing that, in pandemic times, say maybe every hundred years or so, calling upon those fat cat friends to say, hey, we have a problem here, can you help us out by testing a few hundred thousand people so we can try and keep as many of them alive as possible?

Cleveland is justly celebrated for being home to three of the nation’s top medical systems. The quasi-public one, MetroHealth, got millions from in COVID money from the state but has yet to figure out how to test the masses.

The other two — Cleveland Clinic and University Hospitals — are huge behemoths, owners of acres and acres of tax-exempt properties, and possess such great wealth that one might think their status as nonprofit entities meant they would step forward in times of great crisis to at least test the black and brown people who live all around them.

We don’t know if the mayor has called upon these friends in times like these. We do know they have yet to step up in any meaningful way to help those most in need. And we know that no one in City Hall — not the mayor, or any of his wannabe successors on city council — have called them out for their indifference.

As we reported this past week, a few entities — some black churches, Greater Cleveland Congregations, Neighborhood Family Practice — are trying heroically to stand in the gap. Their efforts are heroic but are dwarfed by the need.

Is there one elected official willing to call out the mighty Clinic? To be sure, they would be swiftly reminded, “that’s not the Cleveland way”.

Perhaps “the Cleveland way” is why we sit atop virtually every index of misery.

• • •• • •

Dixon's long tenure at GCRTA speaks to Cleveland's sub-par political culture

-->

​Our low standards are killing us

The forced resignation of George F Dixon III two weeks ago as board chair of the Greater Cleveland Regional Transit Authority at the behest of his fellow trustees comes across as an urgent carbon monoxide detector. He resigned as his fellow board members investigate whether Dixon may have improperly failed to pay his share of premiums for his GCRTA subsidized health insurance.

The situation points once again to a Greater Cleveland political culture that recycles and rewards a collection of undistinguished political insiders — both elected and appointed — whose chief assets seem to be a general affability accompanied by a reluctance to rock the boat.

The administration and management of GCRTA seem at this moment to reflect the same political culture that enabled the Jimmy Dimora-Frank Russo era of just a decade ago.  Blessed with a high school education, Dimora epitomized the archetype of the jovial back slapping, deal-making public official.

Even after the FBI raid on their county administration offices and homes in July 2008 — Dimora was one of three county commissioners and Russo the county treasurer — most local Democratic Party apparatchiks were reluctant to challenge the duo’s leadership of the party. Over and over, when asked how they could tolerate the indicted pair’s continued party leadership, people would recite some favor or kindness rendered to them or a family member by Dimora as a rationale for enduring an unconscionable situation.

Our preference for affability and comfort over a commitment to excellence and service is one of the key hindrances to our community advancement. It is not the kind of cultural attribute one expects would appeal to a corporate giant looking to expand to a new community.

We don’t know George Dixon personally, nor have any facts emerged thus far established that he has broken any laws. People we respect describe him

George Dixon was appointed to GCRTA board
in 1992 and served as chairman from 1994
until he resigned under pressure last month.

warmly as an intelligent guy with an engaging manner. He did enjoy a reputation as the King of GCRTA, however, with an aura reinforced by the fact that board meetings took place in the George F. Dixon III Board Room.

Yet on the face of it, something is wrong when a person serves as chairman of a public agency for nearly a quarter of a century. As former judge and county council president C. Ellen Connally has written, such long uninterrupted tenures are breeding grounds for threats to the public interest.

Dixon’s departure opens the door for a major overhaul of the ten-member GCRTA board. Not only did the terms of Charles P. Lucas and former East Cleveland mayor Gary Norton expire on March 31, but two other trustees continue to serve after their terms have expired. Valerie McCall’s term expired in March 2017 and Leo Serrano’s term expired in March 2016.

Three of Cleveland’s appointees are serving past term and the fourth just resigned. It does not speak well for the appointing authorities — the Jackson and Budish administrations — to be so lackadaisical about making timely appointments to a vital public agency with more than 2000 employees and a $300 million budget.

Mayor Jackson likes to say Cleveland will not be a great city unless and until all its neighborhoods share in the prosperity of the city’s renaissance. Most of the people who live in those “least of these” neighborhoods don’t have cars and are dependent upon public transit to get to work, to the doctor, and to shop.

It would behoove Mayor Jackson and County Executive Budish to consider appointing some regular bus riders to the board. We see little evidence that the current board members identify with workers who face two hour commutes each way to jobs that pay less than a living wage.

Frank, if you want Cleveland to be great, start by giving us some great board members. Even better, do it with a sense of urgency and transparency. 

Don't keep letting it be "what it is".

 # # #

[Cleveland appoints four members of the RTA board. The County appoints three, and the Cuyahoga Mayors and Managers Association appoints three.]

Marcia Fudge sticks nose under local endorsement process tent

It would be hard to imagine a more ill-conceived and ineptly concealed private maneuver than what Cleveland area Congresswoman Marcia Fudge unveiled last night during a telephone conference that was leaked before it was over.

Apparently intent on leaving no rock unturned in a last-ditch effort to secure the endorsement of the county Democratic Party for two judicial candidates whom she has personally endorsed, Fudge personally conducted the telephone meeting with several east side elected officials, party leaders, and political activists.

There were close to 20 people on the conference call, which lasted only about 15 minutes. Fudge was calling from Washington DC, where Congress was in session.

Multiple sources speaking on condition of anonymity said the Congresswoman advanced a scorched earth policy: if the Party’s executive committee refuses to endorse Andrea Nelson Moore and Deborah M. Turner, Fudge wants her allies to push for a no endorsement policy in all 2018 races, including other judicial races as well as county and state legislative contests.

What has people most upset about the meeting is that party chair Shontel Brown took an active part in the strategy session. Brown, who represents District 10 in County Council, is a Fudge protégé. She became party chair last summer amidst whispers that she lacked the sophistication and experience to handle the job, and that the powers behind the throne would be some combination of Fudge, Cleveland City Council president Kevin Kelley, and one or two others.

Brown’s active and open participation in an effort to help Turner and Moore means of course, that the party chair was scheming against their opponents, including Ashley Kilbane, who is running for the nomination in one judicial primary race against Moore; and Karrie Howard, who is vying for nomination to the same open seat as Turner and Mickey Mottl. Howard and Kilbane received the most votes in their respective races at last week’s meeting of city and ward leaders from across the county.

Fudge’s efforts to impose her will on the endorsement process is likely to produce strong and perhaps chaotic pushback at today’s executive committee meeting, where senior party leaders decide on endorsements for the May 8 primary in some two to three dozen judicial, legislative, and state races. The meeting is scheduled to start at 9am at Euclid High School. The first question on the agenda could be whether Brown can conduct the meeting impartially.

Fudge had confided to associates before the conference call that she would attend today’s meeting to personally confront executive committee meetings over their refusal to endorse black judicial candidates. She seems to discount the fact that Karrie Howard, a former federal and state prosecutor who is receiving support from virtually every corner of the county, is unabashedly black. Fudge acknowledged in the meeting that pressure had been placed on Howard to leave the race he is leading to clear space for Turner but that he had declined. The Real Deal Press has learned that Kilbane also refused similar entreaties.

Much of the intrigue appears aimed at saving face for the Congresswoman, who risks the prospect of today’s meeting ending with her favored candidates striking out.

Several political consultants with whom we spoke following the meeting thought Fudge’s strategy was both unworkable and unsound, and that her tactics verged on bullying.

But there was virtually no dissent expressed from those on the call, according to several sources with knowledge of the meeting. State Rep. Kent Smith, who is Euclid city leader, did say that Howard had considerable support among his members who could not be counted on to support the Fudge plan.

Besides the clear impropriety of Brown’s active involvement in the scheming, what amazes most people who have spoken with RDP about the meeting was its gross indiscretion. Little attempt was made to vet the invited conferees, and no attempt was apparently made to exclude others who joined the call anonymously, ensuring that details of the call would become known even before Fudge could rejoin her colleagues in the Capitol.

In addition to Fudge, Brown, and Smith, the following people are known to have to been on the call, as confirmed by multiple sources or the individuals themselves:

Cleveland city councilmen Joe Jones [Ward 1], Blaine Griffin [6], Kevin Conwell [9], Anthony Hairston [10]; county councilwoman Yvonne Conwell [District 7]; Shaker Heights city leader Lisa Payne Jones; former Cleveland councilman Zack Reed; former Richmond Hts. mayor Miesha Headen; political activists Willie Britt, Kenn Johnson, Kent Whitley, and Angela Shute Woodson. Also on the call was Fudge political adviser Ken Dowell, who reportedly arranged the call.

Richmond Heights city council president Eloise Henry was also identified as having been on the call, but we have been unable to confirm her attendance as of publication.

And there were others.

Fudge is reported to have expressed the need to get Turner and Moore nominated as a sign of support for chairman Brown. But, as one listener said, “Shontel’s job is to do what Marcia needs done.”

In fairness to Brown, it is generally considered part of the chair’s duty to clear the field for preferred candidates in appropriate circumstances. But usual considerations of timing, manner, and nuance were disregarded in this instance.

There were some other intriguing comments attributed to the Congresswoman. One was a claim of entitlement for the black community, which provided substantial support to county executive Armond Budish in 2014. Fudge was also reported to have said that if west side Democrats would not support black candidates, they would be denied access to black pulpits.

-->

Why Fudge and Brown would burden Howard and Kilbane with the responsibility to pay back support to Budish, or what power Fudge has over black clergy, was not detailed.

CPT: Marcia Fudge, County Council, County Judicial Races, US Senate

Cuyahoga Politics Today

New Political Season brings critical choices, questions

What is the value of a Fudge endorsement?

How does Mandel's exit affect GOP Senate Primary?

If it seems that politics is never-ending, that‘s because it’s true. Our interests, and those of our community — however we may define “interests” and “community” — are being negotiated, threatened, defended, or traded away continually by public officials who appear on your ballot. So it behooves us to pay attention to what our public officials do and say.

Consider that in a little less than 72 hours last week, roughly 100 local Democrats chose the newest member of county council and made recommendations for who should get the party’s endorsement in various judicial and legislative primary contests on the May 8 ballot.  Those choices, made in most cases by people you likely don’t know or seldom think of, have consequences with close-to-home effect upon who gets put in jail, where your taxes go, and which sections of our community get treated better than others.

That likely doesn’t sound fair, but it’s the way our democracy works. And if you don’t like it, you have a real chance to change it this year. And if you decide to get involved, you may set in motion positive changes not only for your neighborhood, but for your judicial system, your state government,  your country, and the world.

That’s not hyperbole. It’s the result of living in Cuyahoga County, which still remains the dominant political goldmine in a crucial battleground state.

Democrats hold the lion’s share of offices in Cuyahoga County. Republicans control some of the suburbs, especially those on the county’s outskirts. Though they are largely irrelevant to county politics — their political interests are generally expressed through the business community — the GOP functions pretty much the same way in its spheres, that is to say through a network of volunteer central and executive committees and ex officio  structures that carry great weight in influencing who gets on the ballot.

So last Thursday, 46 of a possible 75 or so precinct committee members who live in County Council District 10 — Cleveland Heights, East Cleveland, University Heights, Bratenahl, and Cleveland Wards 8 and 10, met at Dem Party headquarters to choose a successor to Anthony Hairston, who resigned his county council seat after winning the Cleveland Ward 10 seat vacated by Jeff Johnson, who opted to challenge Mayor Frank Jackson. [Johnson came in third in the September mayoral primary; he’s now running for the State Senate seat he had 20 years ago.]

Successful professional politicians chart their careers and their alliances with great care. Hairston’s county-to-city council switch was in preparation for at least a year, which meant that his council seat was potentially in play for at least that long. Michael Houser, who won the intraparty vote last week to replace Hairston, had long ago secured the latter’s support to replace him. In Cleveland, that would have been sufficient; a councilperson who leaves under honorable circumstances is permitted to designate a successor who is then ratified by the council.

County Council functions under a different set of rules, set by state law. When a vacancy occurs between elections, the successor is chosen by the Party of the outgoing incumbent. Even though the process is different, neither Houser nor Hairston gave much thought to any particular challenger. So Houser moved into an apartment in the district and apparently expected pretty much to waltz in to the seat.

But the unexpected is part of what makes politics so fascinating. Shortly after the November election, Cleveland Heights mayor Cheryl Stephens realized that a power realignment among council members meant that her colleagues were unlikely to reelect her as mayor. Moreover, she was about to leave her job as director of acquisitions, dispositions & development at the County Land Bank to take a job in Akron. Suddenly, she was seen as a preferred alternative to Houser by many party activists.

For starters, Stephens has an accomplished resume as a public official in both elected and managerial roles. Of perhaps greater weight politically, she represented a chance for the Heights forces to regain the seat that had gone to Clevelander Hairston when Julian Rogers had resigned to take a job with Cleveland State.

Stephens was especially appealing as a potential candidate to Congresswoman Marcia Fudge, who has increasingly sought to play a larger role in local politics. Once Stephens was officially offered her new job — as president and CEO of the East End Neighborhood Development Corporation — and prepared to leave the Land Bank, the conflict between her work and the part-time council position evaporated, and she agreed to seek the county council position.

Suddenly, Stephens seemed the favorite to succeed Hairston on county council.

In politics the currency that matters is votes, and so for 45 days or so Houser and Stephens sought to secure commitments from the precinct committee members of District 10. Fudge’s involvement put a strain on political and personal loyalties. Hairston had pledged his support to Houser but wanted to stay in her good graces. Julian Rogers, the Democratic city leader in Cleveland Heights, is tight with Hairston both politically and personally, but with a base that heavily favored Stephens. County Executive Armond Budish is a Fudge political ally but Houser was one of his executive assistants.

This really should have been no contest. Everyone recognizes the weight of a member of Congress. But for some reason, Rep. Fudge has established a track record of making endorsements but failing to put substance and resources behind them. Thus, she made a robocall on Stephens behalf but did not make the dozen or so phone calls that could have secured the seat for Stephens.

The immediate result was a dramatic 24-22 second-round ballot win for Houser at the party headquarters on Superior Ave. But this small episode has other winners and losers.

Stephens’ combination of experience, expertise, and leadership suggest she would have been a formidable representative of District 10 and a valuable asset to the county on all issues related to development and governmental performance. These were stated priorities when the battle was waged and won over reforming county government.

Houser is much more of an unknown quantity. He has long been eager to win elective office but already whispers abound that he will take his orders from County Executive Budish.

Houser takes office immediately and will need to tend his political flanks immediately. The filing deadline for the office is February 7 and a Board of Elections spokesperson has confirmed this seat will be on the May 8^th primary ballot, providing an early test of political strength for Houser and any challengers, including possibly Stephens, who is rumored to be considering a run.

A larger issue remains, and it was on display two days after the District vote. What does it mean when the Congresswoman cannot secure a seat for a highly qualified candidate of her choosing over a political novice? Let us note that race was not a consequential factor in this contest; both Houser and Stephens are black. But given that Fudge has chosen increasingly to involve herself in local party politics — she pushed for the election of Shontel Brown as local party chair; she has taken early sides in several  state legislative battles, even supporting challengers over incumbents — her constituents are entitled to question her end game.

This is no idle question. There are four open countywide judicial seats in this year’s election cycle. There are no black or Hispanic male judges on the county bench. Five African Americans and one Hispanic — three men, three women — are among the competitors for the four seats. Fudge is widely regarded to have negotiated with some party powers to secure endorsements of two black women lawyers in their respective races. Yet when forty city and ward leaders from across the county met last Saturday to present recommendations to the party’s Central Committee, which will meet this Saturday to act on those recommendations, not a single judicial candidate of color received a recommendation, and Fudge’s two choices were defeated handily.

We will explore this issue in tomorrow’s post.

# # #

Last week brought news that State Treasurer Josh Mandel, possibly the least-liked state public official of this century, was ending his campaign to win the GOP nomination for US Senate and challenge incumbent US Senator Sherrod Brown. Mandel was expected to defeat his challenger for the nomination, wealthy Cleveland businessman Mike Gibbons. But Mandel withdrew citing an undisclosed medical issue concerning his wife.

Gibbons does not have a clear field, however. Congressman Jim Renacci, who was in the midst of an uphill battle for the GOP gubernatorial nomination against Ohio Attorney General Mike DeWine and Lt. Governor Mary Taylor, is now shifting over to the Senate race.

Gibbons is a relative unknown politically. He will be a guest tonight on “Race Relations in America with Laverne and Jack”, which airs Tuesdays from 6-7PM on WERE TalkCLE Radio 1490/AM.

Mandel was such a distasteful candidate — he specializes in ugly campaigns — but it seems that he will be replaced by another Trumpster.

While we are on the subject of that Senate contest, we understand why many Republicans don’t like to talk about the racist who heads their party. But we would like to hear what our own Ohio Senators, Sherrod Brown and Rob Portman, think about Trump’s “s***hole countries” comment.

# # #

-->

-->