hotel a BasileaOriginally appeared in the Reader's Digest of November, 1993
At the turn of the century, Jersey City, N.J., a stone's throw from the Statue of Liberty, was a major rail and manufacturing center. Many of the nation's immigrants boarded trains in the sprawling Jersey City terminal onthe way to their American dream.
But over the years, the well-kept, bustling town fell prey to crime, municipalcorruption and high taxes. Some of the city's largest private employers,like American Can, pulled out. As a result, unemployment hit double-digitsand welfare rolls ballooned.
The state took over Jersey City's entire school system after a length investigation uncovered massive cronyism, graft, and incomptetence - "a totaleducational failure."
Property taxes spiraled ever higher. Last year, the National Association ofHome Builders ranked Jersey City the 17th least-affordable metropolitanhousing market in the nation.
Yet earlier this year the 229,000 residents of this gritty, blue-collar town helped stage an extraordinary urban revolution, one that sets a powerfulexample for cities all across America. Their unlikely leader is a 34-year-oldIvy Leaguer named Bret Schundler. He was too young, had the wrong backgroundand belonged to the wrong party, yet he succeeded by doing two thingstraditional politicians had disdained: listening to the voters and keepinghis word.
Schundler intended to become a Presbyterian minister. But after college he spent two years in Washington, D.C., working for Rep. Roy Dyson (D.,Md.).Then, in 1984, Schundler joined the Presidential campaign of Gary Hart. When Hart lost the nomination, Schundler got a job with a Wall Street investment banking firm. He didn't know the difference between a stock anda bond. "But the man who interviewed me figured if I could sell Gary Hart inwestern Iowa, I could sell quality bonds," Schundler says.
In fact, Schundler had a spectacular career, investing billions of dollars forhospitals, schools and other institutions. He became a millionaire.Schundler had moved into a modest brownstone in downtown Jersey City with hiswife, Lynn, mainly because it was an easy commute to Wall Street. He hadgotten active in civic associations, but was becoming disillusioned with theDemocratic Party. He felt that Presidential candidates Walter Mondale andMichael Dukakis were captives of special interests. Locally he was disenchanted by Jersey City's high tax rates, exploding budgets and rampantcorruption.
Schundler "retired" from Wall Street and registered as a Republican - not exactly an opportunistic move in a city where Democrats outnumber Republicansby almost ten to one. He ran for state senate and lost, though he receiveda surprising 45 percent of the vote. In 1992, defying the odds, he entereda special election for mayor.
The election had come about in a way that was all too familiar in JerseyCity - a longtime symbol of machine politics in America. The tradition datedto 1917, when the city got a street-smart former city-hall custodian asmayor. For three decades, Frank "I am the law" Hague presided over an era oflegendary corruption.
Hague boasted a special desk with a drawer that opened in the front, allowingvisitors to make deposits that disappeared inside. On an annual salary of no more than $8,000, he amassed a fortune reputed to be at least $10 million.Once a year, at what one participant called "Rice Puddin' Time," city employees had to ante up three percent of their annual salary for the "Boss."
Hague handpicked New Jersey's governors and judges, using the huge Democraticmajority he delivered from Hudson County. When it was necessary, it was said he even got votes from the graveyard.
By 1992, Jersey City property taxes were among the nation's highest. A $100,000 house, taxed at $871 next door in New York City, cost a Jersey Cityhomeowner $3157. And yet last year, with the city facing a $40-million budget deficit, the city-council president declared there was only one solution: hike taxes yet again.
Budgets were not the only problem. In less than 12 months, the city wentthrough four mayors. First, Gerald McCann was sentenced to federal prisonfor fraud and tax evasion. The city-council president served by defaultuntil July, when the council's new president took over. Then a specialelection was scheduled for November to elect a mayor to serve out the lastseven months of McCann's term.
Schundler entered the race as a conservative Republican, emphasizing low taxes,safer streets and an end to machine politics. The election was chaotic,with 19 candidates vying. Schundler won with less than 18 percent of the vote.
chambres d'hotel de luxe WaterfordWhen he was sworn in last November, Schundler knew he would be under a microscope as the city's first Republican mayor in 75 years. He knew, too,that he faced re-election in May, this time against a united Democratic Party.He had only months to make his mark.
The stage was set on his first day in office. A lawyer and a real-estatedeveloper showed up, promising to bring Jersey City a huge discount retailoutlet - if they could get a reduction in property taxes.
Schundler politely turned them down. "If I give big outfits a break and letthe little guys pay for it, I chase off more jobs than I attract." The developer didn't get a special rate, but began the project anyway.
Next, Schundler took on political graft. "No-bid contracts, no-show jobs andgross fiscal mismanagement have brought our city to the brink of financialruin," he had said in his campaign. Schundler set an example by cutting his own salary in half. He also did something that astonished Democratic cityclerk Robert Byrne. "For decades," says Byrne, "inauguration day was a bloodbath. The new mayor would fire the old one's supporters and hire his own. Mayor Schundler didn't do that."
The mayor scrutinized government spending too. Commissioners of the JerseyCity Incinerator Authority, which handles garbage collection, street sweeping and snow plowing, had charged taxpayers $82,773 over four years fortravel to cities like San Francisco and Orlando, Fla. "If they are going tosend me on a trip, I'm not going to no fleabag hotel," on former commissionersaid. Schundler got the commissioners to curb their free-spending ways.
As the months passed, Schundler discovered that the Authority had developeda $14-million surplus. The next time the commissioners were set to meet,Schundler went public with a newspaper ad, urging citizens to come and tellthe board "that we the people of Jersey City will not tolerate abusive rategouging."
The overflow crowd that showed up cheered Schundler as he challenged the board."My findings are simple," he began. "Your budget can be trimmed, yet you'rebuilding this huge reserve. It's our money, and we prefer to have it."
The board later voted to roll back rates 26 percent.
Schundler also moved on crime. He pushed "community policing" to put morecops on the street. He worked with the police department to put more civilians in desk positions, to free even more officers for patrol duty.Crime dropped 14 percent.
The most severe hurdle Schundler faced, however was the city's $40-milliondeficit. First he started collecting millions in back taxes from largedevelopers. This left him with 3000 smaller commercial and residentialproperties with delinquent tax liens (the tax owed, plus interest penalties)on them. Here Schundler used his Wall Street savvy to set up a trust that bought up the liens. The trust then used the underlying value of the properties as collateral for bonds, which it sold to institutional investors.
The mayor's innovation was an enormous success. Jersey City raised $25 million in cash from the sale of these bonds and will get another $27million from notes and interest over the next five years.
Astonishingly, Schundler had put the city budget on a path to surplus. Inaddition, in May, he cut property tax rates, across the board, for the firsttime in memory.
Schundler didn't apologize. "It is true that I made a lot of money," he responded in one debate. "Is it wrong to be successful in business?"
The mayor emerged even more popular after the debate. Voters had beenripped off for years by professional politicians. They figured Schundlerwouldn't enrich himself at their expense. "I don't think he can be bought,"one wrote to a local paper.
Schundler also campaigned hard in black churches and in housing projects. His message there was the same: safe streets through more police, low taxes, workfare instead of welfare, private-school vouchers.
Manzo had the support of elected black leaders, but polls showed Schundler'sconservative themes scoring surprisingly well among minority voters,including blacks. In retaliation, Manzo's supporters brought race into thecampaign.
At a press conference on City Hall steps, Manzo's supporters exclaimed thata Schundler family business processed a mineral called vermiculite, the whitespecks that keep the soil from packing too hard in potted plants. Vermiculitewas imported from South Africa. Therefor, apparently, Schundler supportedapartheid.
Naples hôtels"South African vermiculite is in the soil of almost every potted plant in almost every house in Jersey City," Schundler responded. "Does this make thepeople of Jersey City racist?"
Fearful of a loss, the Democratic National Committee sent in the Rev. JesseJackson less than a week before the election. Jackson also brought up theSouth Africa issue. "The values Lou Manzo represents are the values of the U.S.A., the United States of America, not the values of the U.S.A., the Unionof South Africa," he claimed.
It was all to no avail. Schundler won re-election last May with 68 percent ofthe vote, the largest victory margin in Jersey City history. What's more, hetook 60 percent of the Hispanic and 40 percent of the black vote - evenwinning one of the housing projects. Jersey Journal columnist Peter Weiss called his minority-vote totals "unprecedented" for aRepublican.
Typical of the minority vote is Mandy Johnson, 30, a married father of twowho has been a city employee for four years. An African-American born andraised in public housing, Johnson told friends he was voting for Schundler andthey listened. "We elected Democrats all our lives and we're still in thesame predicament." Now he, too, has hope. "I think Mayor Schundler is going to do a great Job for Jersey City."
Since his re-election, Schundler continues to preach for economic revivalthrough low taxes, and against government-fostered dependency. "The roots ofsocial salvation," he says, "do not come through the mere removal ofdeprivation, but through enabling and encouraging each citizen to contributeto others."
High on the Schundler agenda is a school-voucher program, to give parents thechoice of sending their children to public or private schools. And if New Jersey elects a Republican governor this fall to go along with the Republicanmajority already in the legislature, vouchers could become a reality in lessthan a year.
"I love Jersey City," Schundler says with conviction. "I feel it's my mission not only to benefit our people, but truly to make this city a lightto the nation."