Kick Ass (28 page)

In fact, Clark has made a career of claiming not to know what’s going on, and not being there when it was. Still, he is justifiably irked by insinuations from the Alonso camp that, at 69, he’s too old to be a forceful mayor. To be fair, Clark never claimed to be a forceful mayor. Hundreds of weekday golfing partners can attest to his devotion to leisure.

Raising questions about Clark’s age and alertness is a risky proposition for Alonso. After all, it was she who completely forgot where she livedand in fact, gave the wrong addresswhen running for office a few years ago. Perhaps both she and Clark would consent to mutual CAT scans to allay constituent concerns about possible impairment.

A new face in the political cross fire is T. Willard Fair, although he’s not unacquainted with controversy. Writing in the Miami Times, Fair (who is black) has attacked other black leaders by naming them “nigger of the year.” No fine trophy or plaque accompanies this dubious award.

Fair’s opponents have been reminding black voters of his bluntness and have suggested that such coarse tendencies are potentially dangerous in a city where racial tensions lie close to the surface. Fair is also being slammed for failing to support Dade’s black tourism boycott. To note that Clark and Alonso didn’t support the boycott either would only spoil a perfectly bad dirty trick.

For all his bombast, Fair is easily the smartest of the three mayoral candidates, which automatically makes him the long shot. Alonso, the loudest of the trio, is presumed the front-runner. Clark, heavily bankrolled by developers, is running a strong and defiantly lackluster second. While the race is off to a truly disgraceful start, it will require all the candidates’ energy to stay gutter-bound between now and Nov. 2.1 have every confidence they’ll sink to the occasion.

Wacko factor gives city voters a tough choice

October 30, 1993

On Tuesday, thousands of South Floridians can drop to their knees and quietly give thanks that they don’t live in the city of Miami.

Nov. 2 is Election Day, and it appears likely that Steve Clark and Miriam Alonso will be in a runoff for mayor. The campaign, as reprehensible as predicted, leaves nauseated voters to ponder the question: Which of these characters will embarrass us the least? Four categories should be considered:

1. General nutty behavior.

Say what you will about Steve Clark, he’s not a volatile guy. It takes energy to be volatile.

Miriam Alonso, on the other hand, is frequently shrill, abrasive and emotional. Her 911 call after a routine burglary took the form of wild raving against the police. The potential for future wacko antics seems boundless.

2. Saying dumb things.

This one’s a toss-up. Both candidates say dumb things all the time. For instance, Clark still insists that corruption and shoddy construction had nothing to do with the massive damage by Hurricane Andrew.

Meanwhile, Alonso babbles about secret Anglo conspiracies to purge Cuban Americans from office, exhorting supporters: “Whip in hand, we have to expel those who come to destroy our people!”

The image of Miriam Alonso going after Steve Clark with a whip

well, it’s enough to give S-and-M a bad name.

3. Doing dumb things.

Again, Clark has the advantage here. In order to do something dumb, one must do something. Clark seldom does.

As Metro mayor, he rarely cast a vote without consulting the zoning lawyers, lobbyists and developers who put him in office. Freed from the burden of independent thinking, Clark was able to hurl himself into the task of signing proclamations and snipping ribbonslow-risk assignments that were virtually impossible to screw up.

As Miami commissioner, Alonso has done a few dumb things. After a German tourist was murdered, Alonso announced that she was jetting overseas to assure folks that Miami was a sane and normal place. Tourist officials urged her not to go, but the commissioner went anyway, an exceptionally stupid stunt. There is little evidence that the Germans were charmed.

4. Likelihood of indictment and/or arrest.

This category is crucial everywhere but Hialeah. In most cities, voters prefer that mayors not be busted for major felonies until their term of office is over. It’s not just humiliating, it’s costlychanging all the stationery from “Mayor’s Office” to “Suspended Mayor’s Office.”

It’s hard to say which Miami front-runner is most likely to get nabbed in office. As Metro mayor, Clark was secretly recorded during an FBI bribery probe and called to testify in Alcee Hastings’ impeachment hearings. The entire U.S. Senate decided Clark’s testimony was not credible, but he wasn’t charged with a crime.

Alonso was equally lucky. She flat-out lied about where she lived in order to qualify for a Metro commission race. The law says you can’t do that, but the State Attorney’s Office let it slide.

Having survived close calls, both candidates are cautious. Neither is likely to get indicted for the first few months, at least.

There are other ways to embarrass the city, and either Clark or Alonso is eminently capable of breaking new ground. Who’d be worse? The choice is so repugnant that many voters yearn for alternatives.

Four other mayoral candidates do appear on Tuesday’s ballot. None could bring more ridicule to Miami than the front-runners already have. It’s not humanly possible.

Hialeah’s new convict-mayor government

November 11, 1993

The good people of Hialeah have spoken. As incredible as it seems to the outside world, they want a convicted extortionist to be their mayor again.

Go ahead and laugh; Lawton Chiles isn’t. The governor announced Wednesday that he won’t attempt to suspend Raul Martinez for a second time.

For Chiles, it was a no-win situation. Yanking Martinez from office would have subverted the will of many Hialeah voters. Yet leaving him in City Hall gives the impression that Florida tolerates crooks in high places, particularly crooks with the same political affiliation as the governor. It’s a messy dilemma.

Most normal cities would be deeply ashamed to have a felon as mayor, but on Tuesday, Hialeah declaredif by the slimmest of marginsthat it is beyond shame.

So give the people what they want. Those 14,540 stalwarts who cast their ballots for Martinez surely gave thought to the consequences. Some obviously believe he is innocent, and some obviously don’t care. Either way, they’ve decided that the advantages of having a convict-mayor outweigh the disadvantages.

By allowing Martinez to take office, Chiles establishes Hialeah as a unique sociopolitical experiment of the 19905a sort of biosphere of sleaze. The rest of Florida can watch and learn.

What exactly is the mandate for an elected racketeer? Is he expected to continue extorting? If so, how much and from whom? Can he successfully bridge the ideological chasm between his criminal and noncriminal constituents? These questions are seldom confronted in American politics, and here’s a rare opportunity to get them answered.

Because of its checkered history, Hialeah is a logical place to experiment with the convicted-mayor form of government. After 40 years of uninhibited corruption, the undeveloped land is mostly gone and, with it, the opportunities for easy graft.

The city is already an aesthetic ruin, one zoning atrocity stacked shoulder to shoulder against another. Even if Martinez went hog-wild, what difference would it really make? How much worse could it get?

In a sense, the Hialeah mayoral race was the purest test of democracythe frank exercise of electoral choice in the face of civic pride, conscience and common sense. The people wanted a convicted crook, and they elected him.

Does government have a constitutional right to intervene? What would Thomas Jefferson say?

Voters sometimes do confounding things. Candidates who die on the campaign trail occasionally get elected anyway, but at least dead guys can’t steal. The election of a shakedown artist is a riskier proposition.

Although Chiles is staying out of it for now, the Hialeah biosphere could be punctured by other forces. Martinez’s conviction on six corruption charges is being appealed to the 11th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. If the verdict is upheld, the governor has no choice but to jerk Martinez from office.

That’s the law. It was conceived on the premise that voters would never tolerate criminals in office and would demand their instant removal. In most places, that’s true. Hialeah is a special case, though, and perhaps an exception should be made.

Certainly those who voted for Raul Martinez on Tuesday were aware that he might soon be sent away to serve his 10-year sentence. So deep is their loyalty that many Hialeans would like him to remain their mayor, regardless.

In fact, there’s no reason why Raul couldn’t take care of the city’s business from a prison cell in Eglin or Talladega. All he’d need is a telephone and some privacy.

Heck, it works just fine for John Gotti.

Hialeah vote 2: This time hide the cheating

November 10, 1994

Across the land, weary voters groan in relief: Another insulting, infuriating campaign season finally ends.

Unless you happen to live in Hialeah.

Residents of Florida’s crookedest city are gritting their teeth for an ugly new mayoral election. A judge threw out the old one after a trial confirmed “substantial”how shall we say?irregularities.

Mayor Raul Martinez won the 1993 contest by only 273 votes, a margin achieved by a timely but statistically improbable influx of absentee ballots.

To the shock of no one, it was revealed that scores of those ballots arrived with forged signatures, witnessed by some of the Democratic mayor’s loyal supporters. Bunches of those votes were gathered in a sweep of convalescent homes for the mentally and emotionally disturbed.

Martinez, awaiting a new (and unrelated) trial for bribery, professed no involvement in any skullduggery. His defiant assertion brought giggles not only from cynical Hialeah citizens, but from the battalion of FBI agents assigned to keep track of corruption in the city.

While the feds added electoral fraud to their list of recent crimes, Dade Circuit Judge Sidney Shapiro this week ordered a new mayoral vote to be held within 30 days.

It’s hard to steal an election on such short notice. Martinez’s supporters will have their work cut out for them. Here are a few tips to avoid another fiasco:

” Don’t cut it so close.

If you’re taking all the trouble to rig a vote, do it convincingly. Arrange a victory margin wide enough that the result won’t hinge on validating a paltry 200-odd ballots. Why make the FBI’s job any easier?

” Get better forgers.

The forgery techniques used on many ballots were so bad that even the city’s own hired handwriting expert had to admit the signatures looked phony.

Microscopic examination revealed that some of the names had been penned in erasable ink, and even showed signs of erasure smudges. There’s no excuse for such sloppiness.

Hasn’t anyone in Hialeah heard of tracing paper?

” Get better witnesses.

When bogus absentee ballots are being prepared, it’s important to maintain at least the appearance of objectivity. That’s tough when many of those “witnessing” the signatures are the mayor’s cronies, campaign workers orin 13 instancesthe sister of his own wife.

Another unfortunate choice was Hialeah policeman Glenn Rice, a Martinez campaign volunteer who signed 20 absentee ballots as a witness. When questioned under oath about forgeries, officer Rice crawled safely behind the Fifth Amendment and shut up.

For the upcoming election, the Martinez camp should make an earnest effort to find ballot witnesses who won’t get laughed out of court, or require their own defense attorneys.

” Get undetectable voters.

Signing up the infirm and mentally disturbed must have seemed like a clever idea, but it backfired on the mayor’s goon squad.

Equally ill-advised was the scheme of putting nonresidents on Hialeah voter rolls. For example, ballots were mysteriously cast in the names of two North Dade people who’ve never lived in Hialeah. Another woman claimed to have been a legal resident of the city, but she couldn’t recall her home address.

Where election riggers made their big mistake was by using living and breathing humans in the fraud. That’s not only risky, it’s dumb. Dead people make better phantom voters, because they won’t blab to federal agents, and they can’t be subpoenaed.

The cemeteries of Hialeah are full of potential Raul Martinez supporters, absentee in the largest sense of the word.

Older, yet not wiser, Miami deserves Carollo as mayor

July 28, 1996

So it’s your birthday, Miami.

A hundred-year journey ends with three stunning words: Mayor Joe Carollo.

It’s perfect, really. Absolutely splendid.

In many ways, the man epitomizes the character of Miamicrafty, combustible and doggedly opportunistic.

Never mind that he would have scared the bloomers off Julia Tuttle and sent cranky Henry Flagler cursing all the way back to St. Augustine, yanking out the railroad ties behind him.

Carollo truly deserves to be mayor. He deserves it because he went to the bother of running, and because he knew thatdespite a reputation as a pernicious little ferrethe could gnaw his way out of political purgatory and win.

More than most local office-seekers, Joe seems to understand South Florida’s rich tradition of voter apathy, rotten judgment and shallow values.

The hype surrounding Miami’s 100th birthday has sparked absolutely zero interest in how the city will be governed entering its second century, or by whom. Joe counted on the fact that folks would get much more excited about the chili dogs and free concerts than the mayoral race. He was right.

Up to 250,000 people are predicted to show up for today’s huge centennial birthday bash in Bayfront Park. Less than 22,000 showed up for last Tuesday’s special election.

Carollo was elected with a preposterous 16,556 voteseven fewer souls than attend an average Marlins game. Joe deserves to be mayor because an astounding 81 percent of registered voters stayed home, sat on their butts and let it happen.