In Cincinnati, 2004 was the Year of the Quitter. The region's two most powerful local officeholders, Mayor Charlie Luken and Hamilton County Prosecutor Mike Allen, both announced they wouldn't stand for re-election.
Luken, a Democrat, pulled an LBJ, unexpectedly withdrawing rather than face a bruising challenge from within his own party. Allen, a "family values" conservative and former chair of the county GOP, pulled out after getting nailed in a delicious sex scandal with an assistant prosecutor. In contrast with the recent psychosexual history of his alma mater, Elder High School, this leading alumnus' undoing was hetero. More important, it only involved adults; thus perhaps may we say that progress is among us.
Luken's successor won't be known for another 11 months; he dropped out long
before voters had tuned in to the 2005 mayoral race (see "Life
After Luken," issue of Aug. 11-17).
Those sexy Republicans
As periodically happens in Cincinnati, weighty political matters turned absurd
when Luken briefly entertained the idea of running for Allen's job. But there
was the little matter of Luken's law license, which he had allowed to lapse
(See "Porkopolis,"
issue of Sept. 8-14).
Allen's successor is his predecessor, Joe Deters, whose Aryan good looks are
undiminished by a scandal-ridden term as treasurer of the state of Ohio. But
at least Deters' putative misconduct was of a fiduciary, not a physical, nature;
and it was underlings who were convicted, not Deters himself. He easily beat
a write-in challenge by Democratic lawyer Fanon Rucker, whose finish was nonetheless
impressive for the considerable disadvantages he faced (see "Dark
Horse," issue of Oct. 13-19). Deters' previous term as prosecutor is perhaps
best known for his fetishistic appreciation of the death penalty.
Naughty goings-on also played a role in the defeat of Country Commissioner
John Dowlin, but in reverse. An old-school Republican and retired Procter &
Gamble executive, Dowlin forfeited his grandfatherly image by aggressively harping
on his opponent's marital infidelity. City Councilman Pat DeWine succeeded in
playing the victim of a mudball attack and rode the backlash to victory in the
primary election (see "Elephant
Walk," issue of Jan. 14-20). He easily won the commissioner's seat Nov.
2.
That was no surprise; Republicans have long been the presumptive winners of county jobs. Thus Dr. O'dell Owens' victory is all the more significant. Capitalizing on outrage over the use of corpses for an art photography project, Owens ousted the incumbent coroner, Dr. Carl Parrott. One measure of the disgust over the morgue photo case is the fact that Owens is not only a Democrat, but also an African American -- no small matter in a county with few black elected officials. Unfortunately, his election proves not so much the superiority of his professional reputation, which is considerable indeed, but rather the fact that the only way to unseat an incumbent Republican in Hamilton County is for notoriety to provide the opportunity.
The city of Cincinnati briefly toyed with its by now perennial re-examination
of the way it governs itself. This year the proposals -- which didn't make it
to the ballot -- included electing city council by districts and giving the
mayor more executive authority (see "Splitting
the Vote," issue of June 16-22, and "Strong,
Stronger, Strongest," issue of June 23-29).
Hope despite it all
Another ever-current issue in Cincinnati, the management of the police department, thankfully had a less tragic tone in 2004. That's because no prisoners died in police custody during the year, at least as of this writing.
But allegations of police misconduct still surfaced, helping a neophyte politician
make his mark. City Councilman Christopher Smitherman, who took office in December
2003, wasted no time in asserting -- or trying, anyway -- civilian authority
over the cops. When Smitherman took on the issue of police overtime -- a subject
now under review by prosecutors -- he learned how thick the thin blue line runs
in these parts. In reality, it's a purple line, Elder High School's defining
colors, as the alumni-heavy police administration reminded Smitherman in their
smart-ass reply to his demand for information (see "Don't
Follow the Money," issue of Feb. 11-17).
It wasn't just city council that got a generous serving of police peevishness.
Irked by the newspaper's role in prompting Smitherman's call for an investigation,
Police Chief Tom Streicher ordered CityBeat Reporter Stephanie Dunlap
barred from a police press conference (see "Bounced
by the Police," issue of March10-16).
The year 2004 saw Cincinnati named the third meanest city for homeless people,
a designation that seemed to aptly summarize ongoing debates over housing for
the poor (see "Living
Small & Elsewhere," issue of Dec. 8-14) and economic redevelopment of Over-the-Rhine
(see "Taking Over the
Park," issue of July 14-20).
But signs of hope kept popping up, such as the passage of a tax levy for the
Cincinnati Public Schools (see "Schoolhouse
Brawl," issue of Oct. 13-19). Coming despite unprecedented opposition from
two school board members, the levy victory was perhaps recognition of meaningful
progress in the redesign of the district's facilities (see "East
Beginning," issue of Feb. 4-10).
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| By Jerry Dowling |
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Mayor Charlie Luken is gettin' while the gettin's good, making him a lame duck through 2005.
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Even the tax levy for the Drake Center won at the polls, seeming to contradict
the conservative surge of most election tallies. Facing serious scrutiny of
its administrative spending and determined opposition from County Commissioner
Phil Heimlich and other Republican tax hawks, the convalescent facility's victory
affirmed the role of public support for health care for at least the hardest
of hardship cases (see "
Medical
Bill," issue of Sept. 29-Oct. 5).
The successful grassroots effort to repeal Article 12 of the city charter,
while anti-gay measures were winning voter approval across the country, is perhaps
the brightest moment in Cincinnati's political scene in the past decade (see
"Gay Times,").
But if a single event were to capture the hopes for change in Cincinnati in
2004, it was the opening of the Underground Railroad Freedom Center (see "Are
We Free Yet?," issue of Aug. 18-24). For all its flaws and despite valid
criticism of everything from its message to its location, the museum has already
proven to be instrumental in furthering interracial understanding. God knows
we need it. ©