Chapter 24: Tenants’ Union

Things evened out. By summer, I was into my routines and we were planning a genuine family vacation. Yes, after the first time Bruce had convinced us to go to Lake Superior for a long weekend, we’d tried pretty successfully to make regular outings for a weekend or a week to just be together. This was a biggie, though. We were going to Disney World.

The ad on television was cute, but already two weeks before time to go, Emily was too excited to sleep. Her head was filled with Mickey Mouse and Princess Aurelia. She so wanted to be a Disney Princess. I came home one Tuesday afternoon to find her wearing a tiara, tutu, and waving a magic wand.

“I’m a princess!” she declared as I entered the house.

“You sure are,” I said. “Where did you get all this finery, Princess?”

“Let’s see if this cape works,” Bruce said, coming out of his office/workroom. “Well, hi, darling! Didn’t know you were home. What do you think of our princess?” He fastened the cape around her neck and Emily started spinning in the middle of the room.

“See my flare-out, Mommy!” she screeched.

“Oh, my! Someone has raided the costume shop,” I laughed. “Bruce, you are a genius.”

“Well, we might not get her out of it to go to bed,” he said, “but look at our little princess.”

“You’re such a good daddy!” I kissed him soundly.

“Mommy! You’ll make him a frog!” Emily squealed.

“I am not the wicked witch, little girl. I’m the kindly fairy godmother.”

From that point on, it was almost impossible for any of us to sleep at night. Bruce had three weeks off before he started the summer show at the college. I think he spent the entire time designing and sewing our girl costumes that she could wear to Disney World.

I, on the other hand, had been invited to speak to a new group in the Loring Neighborhood. I had to prepare a presentation to give right before we left on the trip. They called themselves the Loring Neighborhood Alliance and they’d called to ask me to speak about the new lighting that was planned for the park. We’d been working on better lighting that would make the neighborhood safer. I had heard concerns that it would be so bright that people would not be able to shut it out of their apartments and condos, so I’d prepared a nice PowerPoint presentation that would show how it would fully cover the park, but would be soft enough that none of the neighboring units would be affected. I was happy to see that the people in the neighborhood were taking an active interest.

Until we got to questions and answers.

“How long do we have before you drive the rest of us out of the neighborhood,” an irate older woman demanded.

“I beg your pardon? Who is driving you out of the neighborhood?” I asked.

“You and your condominiums!” she answered. “Some of us can’t afford to buy a home. We’re barely hanging onto our rent. Where are we supposed to go when you’ve converted everything in the neighborhood to condos?”

“We’re not actually intending to convert everything,” I said.

“That’s not what we heard,” a fellow in a business suit said as he stood. Everything about him screamed LAWYER!

“Perhaps you could tell me what you’ve heard and I can find answers for you. This isn’t actually a subject I came prepared to talk about tonight, but I’ll listen to your concerns and come back with answers.”

The floodgates opened. I sat for the better part of an hour listening to complaints and threats from what had obviously become a tenants’ union. I knew that when Jim started renovating the neighborhood, he was highly criticized for displacing lower class people as he brought in richer people who could afford the new rents. The improvement had been so gradual and so successful, though, that the criticisms faded and Loring Neighborhood became an example of urban renewal.

The same arguments were being posed by the neighborhood alliance. These people weren’t even all tenants of Loring Properties. But they’d ‘heard’ that we evicted people, painted the walls, and sold the properties for prices no one could afford. They’d ‘heard’ that in the initial reconstruction phases, fifteen to twenty years ago, Loring had evicted everyone and hired security forces to keep the homeless out of the park. Frankly, I’d never heard some of the accusations before and, while I suspected they were fabrications, I could see that Jim might have stepped on a lot of toes that were coming back to kick us now.

“I’m Leon Briggs,” the guy in a suit said. “I represent the Loring Neighborhood Alliance and you will be hearing from us in court.”

“Mr. Briggs, I think there is little to be accomplished in court. I’ve collected the information presented tonight and I will investigate each question so that we can reassure people. It’s not our intention to be adversaries with the neighborhood.”

“Good intentions aside, you’ve already become our adversary. We want to save the neighborhood and you are trying to change it. We’ll take every step necessary to recoup our expenses in fighting you and to compensate the people for what you’ve taken.”

Oh, good God. He planned to use the alliance to get rich off of Jim. Maybe me, too. I went over the plans in my head. It was almost time to close the doors on our conversions anyway. I just prayed that Jim would understand.

I whistled. Loud. It doesn’t make any difference if you live in the country or in the city, around Fargo everybody learns to whistle. High and piercing. Everybody milling around in the room before going home stopped and looked up. Briggs rubbed his ears.

“Listen up, people. And make sure you get the word out to everyone else who was here tonight. There are currently 127 units permitted in the greater Loring Neighborhood for renovation. Eighty-four of those are in buildings in which condos have already been sold. Your attorney, assuming that Mr. Leon Briggs represents this alliance, has informed me that he plans to file undefined suits in court,” I said. Several people looked surprised. “I was not aware that the Loring Neighborhood Alliance had a formal structure and had hired an attorney to take this action, but I have heard your concerns. As of tonight, I am halting all redevelopment construction plans and all further condo conversions beyond the 127 that are currently permitted and in progress. I will need the official paperwork for your organization so we can negotiate your concerns legally, including the appointment of Mr. Briggs as your attorney in fact. We are now frozen.”

I closed my laptop and walked out.

“You what?” Jim screamed over the phone. I didn’t waste any time getting home and calling him. Nor did I bother repeating what I’d already said.

“It’s time to pull out, Jim. You should put the entire neighborhood on the block and get out. We’ll focus all our energies on The Mill. Most of our energy is there anyway. This market is played out. The formation of a tenants’ union is the first sign that a benevolent dictator is about to be executed.”

“Well, fuck. How much money does a guy need, anyway? You probably handled this correctly. I just wish I’d known in advance.”

“I wish I’d known in advance. They got me there to talk about the park lighting and then ambushed me.”

“What’s your take on Briggs?”

“I think he overstepped his bounds and that no one actually appointed him as their attorney. If he actually files any papers or lawsuits, be sure the court is explicit regarding who he represents. I wouldn’t put it past him to have filed an incorporation for the alliance without having spoken to anyone and that he is the only one on its board,” I said.