Elections, Mayors

Subterms

    More stories

    • 113 Shares179 Views

      in Elections

      Election Day Guide: Governor Races, Abortion Access and More

      by

      Two governorships are at stake in the South, while Ohio voters will decide whether to enshrine the right to an abortion in the state constitution.Election Day is nearly here, and while off-year political races receive a fraction of the attention compared with presidential elections, some of Tuesday’s contests will be intensely watched.At stake are two southern governorships, control of the Virginia General Assembly and abortion access in Ohio. National Democrats and Republicans, seeking to build momentum moving toward next November, will be eyeing those results for signals about 2024.Here are the major contests voters will decide on Tuesday and a key ballot question:Governor of KentuckyGov. Andy Beshear, left, a Democrat, is facing Daniel Cameron, Kentucky’s Republican attorney general, in his campaign for re-election as governor.Pool photo by Kentucky Educational TelevisionGov. Andy Beshear, a Democrat, is seeking to again defy convention in deep-red Kentucky, a state carried handily by Donald J. Trump in 2020.He is facing Daniel Cameron, Kentucky’s attorney general, who was propelled to victory by an early endorsement from Mr. Trump in a competitive Republican primary in May.In 2019, Mr. Cameron became the first Black person to be elected as Kentucky’s attorney general, an office previously held by Mr. Beshear. He drew attention in 2020 when he announced that a grand jury did not indict two Louisville officers who shot Breonna Taylor.In the 2019 governor’s race, Mr. Beshear ousted Matt Bevin, a Trump-backed Republican, by fewer than 6,000 votes. This year, he enters the race with a strong job approval rating. He is seeking to replicate a political feat of his father, Steve Beshear, who was also Kentucky governor and was elected to two terms.Governor of Mississippi Brandon Presley, a public service commissioner who is related to Elvis Presley, wants to be the state’s first Democratic governor in two decades.Emily Kask for The New York TimesGov. Tate Reeves, a Republican in his first term, has some of the lowest job approval numbers of the nation’s governors.Rogelio V. Solis/Associated PressIt has been two decades since Mississippi had a Democrat as governor. Gov. Tate Reeves, a Republican in his first term, is seeking to avoid becoming the one who ends that streak.But his job approval numbers are among the lowest of the nation’s governors, which has emboldened his Democratic challenger, Brandon Presley, a public service commissioner with a famous last name: His second cousin, once removed, was Elvis Presley.Mr. Presley has attacked Mr. Reeves over a welfare scandal exposed last year by Mississippi Today, which found that millions in federal funds were misspent. Mr. Reeves, who was the lieutenant governor during the years the scandal unfolded, has denied any wrongdoing, but the issue has been a focal point of the contest.Abortion access in OhioAs states continue to reckon with the overturning of Roe v. Wade by the Supreme Court last year, Ohio has become the latest front in the fight over access to abortion.Reproductive rights advocates succeeded in placing a proposed amendment on the November ballot that would enshrine the right to abortion access into the state constitution. Its supporters have sought to fill the void that was created by the Roe decision.Anti-abortion groups have mounted a sweeping campaign to stop the measure. One effort, a proposal to raise the threshold required for passing a constitutional amendment, was rejected by voters this summer.Virginia legislatureIn just two states won by President Biden in 2020, Republicans have a power monopoly — and in Virginia, they are aiming to secure a third. The others are Georgia and New Hampshire.Democrats narrowly control the Virginia Senate, where all 40 seats are up for grabs in the election. Republicans hold a slim majority in the House of Delegates, which is also being contested.The outcome of the election is being viewed as a potential reflection of the clout of Gov. Glenn Youngkin, a Republican with national ambitions.Philadelphia mayorAn open-seat race for mayor in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania’s foremost Democratic bastion, is down to two former City Council members: Cherelle Parker, a Democrat, and David Oh, a Republican.The advantage for Ms. Parker appears to be an overwhelming one in the city, which has not elected a Republican as mayor since 1947.It has also been two decades since Philadelphia, the nation’s sixth most populous city, had a somewhat competitive mayoral race. More

    • 150 Shares129 Views

      in Elections

      ‘We Still Don’t Have Answers’: A Uvalde Mother Is Running for Mayor

      by

      After her daughter was killed in a mass shooting in Uvalde, Kimberly Mata-Rubio figured it was time to get answers and help her city heal.On a recent Saturday morning, a day after what would have been Lexi Rubio’s 12th birthday, dozens gathered in the Texas city of Uvalde for a run in her honor. Blasting Lexi’s playlist, Kimberly Mata-Rubio, her mother, took off from under a towering mural of Lexi, one of 19 children and two teachers killed in a shooting at her school last year.This was more than a fund-raising run for charity — it was also a campaign event of sorts, as Ms. Mata-Rubio and the other competitors made their way past a series of signs in yellow (Lexi’s favorite color) announcing her candidacy for mayor.Ms. Mata-Rubio, a former news reporter, would be the first woman and only the third Latino to lead the Hispanic majority city, one that has been bitterly divided in the aftermath of one of the nation’s deadliest mass shootings.Her campaign, in which she is vying with a veteran local politician and an elementary school art teacher, often prominently features her daughter’s favorite color and reminders of a tragedy that many would prefer to leave in the past.Ms. Mata-Rubio said she understood immediately that everybody in the small town of 15,000 people had lost something, if not a loved one, then certainly a sense of security. Like other parents, she complained that the authorities had released confusing and often conflicting information that made it hard to understand why they took more than an hour to confront and kill the gunman.Ms. Mata-Rubio, second from right, said she understood immediately that everybody in the small town of 15,000 people had lost something, if not a loved one, then a sense of security.Tamir Kalifa for The New York TimesUvalde has been bitterly divided in the aftermath of one of the nation’s deadliest mass shootings.Sergio Flores for The New York TimesThe Uvalde parents also pushed for a ban on assault weapons like the one used in the attack on Robb Elementary School. The issue prompted deep divisions in a rural town renowned for white-tailed deer hunting, where many households have guns and rifles are a regular prize at school raffles.But as president of Lives Robbed, an organization made up of mothers and grandmothers of the Uvalde victims, Ms. Mata-Rubio has organized rallies, flown to Washington and sat through legislative hearings in Austin. And it did not feel like she was doing enough.When she saw an opening to run for mayor, she texted her husband, Felix, asking for advice.“You’re Lexi’s mom,” he replied. “You can do it.”For her, the mission is clear.“We still don’t have answers. We still don’t know what role everyone played then and what role everyone is playing now,” she said of the many ongoing investigations into the delayed police response by the local district attorney and others.She said she also wants to bring the town together over the still-contentious issues of assault weapons, and whether police officers who failed to confront the Uvalde gunman should be fired or face criminal charges.“I want to have the difficult conversations so that everybody feels heard,” Ms. Mata-Rubio said. “I’m going to be raising my children in this community. I want to bring the community back together again.”Felix Rubio, Ms. Rubio’s husband, and their daughter, Jahleela.Tamir Kalifa for The New York TimesIf Ms. Mata-Rubio were to win, she would become the first woman to lead the city.Tamir Kalifa for The New York TimesShe is running against a veteran local politician who hopes to return to office, Cody Smith, and an elementary school art teacher, Veronica Martinez, who have said during their campaigns that they not only want to bring Uvalde back from the nightmare of the shooting, but also to focus on other issues.In the most recent election in Uvalde County, which includes the county seat and six other small towns, voters largely failed to support politicians who backed more control on guns, delivering a political blow to the families of the victims who campaigned on their behalf. But a much narrower pool of voters will decide the mayor’s race, those who live within in Uvalde itself.Ms. Mata-Rubio’s campaign raised the most money in the 30-day period that ended in September, $80,000 to Mr. Smith’s $50,000, according to the most recent campaign finance report filings, with many of her donations coming from out of town. Ms. Martinez has not sought contributions.The Nov. 7 election, with early voting this week, was called after the current mayor, Don McLaughlin, announced he was leaving City Hall to run for a Texas House seat. The winner will need to run for a full four-year term in 2024.Veronica Martinez, an art teacher at Dalton Elementary School, said she hopes to create an open-door culture in a City Hall that often does not feel inviting to residents.Sergio Flores for The New York TimesCody Smith, a former mayor and a senior vice president at First State Bank of Uvalde, was first elected to the City Council in 1994 and also served as mayor in 2008 and 2010.Sergio Flores for The New York TimesIf Ms. Mata-Rubio or Ms. Martinez were to win, they would become the third mayor of Hispanic ancestry and the first woman to lead the city.George Garza, 85, who in the 1990s became the second Hispanic mayor, said the city’s Hispanic majority has often gone unrecognized in city politics. “Representation is important,” he said.Mr. Smith, a former mayor and a senior vice president at First State Bank of Uvalde, was first elected to the City Council in 1994 and also served as mayor in 2008 and 2010. He declined to be interviewed, but has called for supporting better communication between law enforcement agencies.Ms. Martinez, said she supports in principle some form of an assault rifle ban, but said the city must also focus on local issues that affect everyone, like lowering what people pay in property taxes on their homes.She said she hopes to change the culture in a City Hall that often does not feel inviting to residents.“Maybe I can effect some change, and do some good by having an open-door policy,” she said.Some voters like Amanda Juarez, 42, a teacher’s assistant, want to see a fresh face in city government, but she said that she worries that Ms. Mata-Rubio may focus too much on the tragedy and gun control issues. She said she appreciates Ms. Martinez’s calls for lowering taxes on property like her mobile home, whose assessed value recently went up by several thousand dollars for no apparent reason. “We need people who are going to solve our issues at the local level,” she said.Ms. Mata-Rubio, right, and her campaign manager, Laura Barberena, preparing for the Labor Day weekend parade in Uvalde in September.Tamir Kalifa for The New York TimesSome voters want to see a fresh face in city government. “We need people who are going to solve our issues at the local level,” said voter, Amanda Juarez.Ilana Panich-Linsman for The New York TimesTo help win over voters interested in such grass-roots issues, Ms. Mata-Rubio has been knocking on doors and handing over yellow campaign signs and cards with her key campaign issues: Bring People Together, Protect Our History and Boost Our Economy.Moments after taking part in Lexi’s Legacy Run, as it was called, Ms. Mata-Rubio canvassed the streets and she ran into Antonia Rios, 80, a potential voter who was excited to see her. “No te conocía. I didn’t know you. You are very young,” Ms. Rios said, combining English and Spanish as many do in this town 60 miles east of the border with Mexico. “Yo voto por ti. I’ll vote for you.”Kirsten Noyes More

    • 75 Shares129 Views

      in Elections

      Running San Francisco Made Dianne Feinstein

      by

      When I was interviewing Senator Dianne Feinstein in 2011 for a book about San Francisco’s tumultuous history from the 1960s to the ’80s, she suddenly began to tear off her microphone and terminate the exchange. My offense? I asked about her decision as mayor of the city to veto a 1982 ordinance that would have extended health insurance benefits to live-in partners of municipal employees, including lesbians and gay men. I managed to coax the irate Ms. Feinstein back into her chair, but she had clearly drawn a line: I’m ready to leave whenever I don’t like the direction this is headed.Ms. Feinstein could be imperious, thin-skinned and intolerant. She was also the leader that San Francisco sorely needed on Nov. 27, 1978, when she was abruptly thrust, at the age of 45, into City Hall’s Room 200 after Mayor George Moscone and Supervisor Harvey Milk were assassinated by another colleague, Dan White.“This will not be a rudderless city,” she firmly told the shellshocked public after the murders, even though she was shaken by them. When she met with the hastily assembled press soon after the killings, her skirt was stained with Mr. Milk’s blood.During her nine plus years as the first female mayor of the famously cantankerous metropolis, Ms. Feinstein won the grudging respect of the old boys’ network that had always run City Hall. She managed to steer San Francisco between the liberal, freewheeling future that Mr. Moscone aimed toward — the era of San Francisco values — and its older, more conservative traditions, including its downtown business interests. As mayor, she opposed rent control on vacant housing and some demands from the gay community, like domestic partner legislation. But she also pushed through a tough gun control ordinance, environmental regulations and pro-labor laws and hosted a wedding ceremony of lesbian friends in her backyard.All the while, she kept a strong hand on the rudder, emphasizing law and order and putting more cops on the streets but also drawing the line against police mayhem after the White Night riot and violent police sweep of the gay Castro district after the stunningly lenient verdict for Mr. White.“This city has to be managed,” she said. “If you don’t manage, it falls apart.”The Chinatown activist Rose Pak witnessed Ms. Feinstein’s hands-on approach one day when she was riding with her in the mayoral limousine. Spotting an older man collapsed on the sidewalk, Ms. Feinstein ordered her chauffeur to stop, jumped out, wiped foam from the stricken man’s lips and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on him. People later commented that this incident proved she was not a cold fish.“But I didn’t see it that way,” Ms. Pak recalled. “I saw her as a doctor’s daughter and a doctor’s widow, doing the proper clinical thing.”Most important, Ms. Feinstein became a national face of AIDS compassion when President Ronald Reagan was ignoring the growing suffering and conservative activists like Patrick Buchanan were crowing that the disease was nature’s “awful retribution” on gay men. When the gay progressive supervisor Harry Britt, who often clashed with the mayor, brought Ms. Feinstein the city’s first AIDS proposal in 1982, she told him simply, “Fund everything.”Other cities dumped their AIDS patients on San Francisco, including a notorious incident in 1983 when hospital officials in Gainesville, Fla., put a dying man on a plane to the city, miles from his loved ones. San Francisco took care of the sick men, but Ms. Feinstein denounced the practice as “outrageous and inhumane.”“Dianne spent more time visiting AIDS patients in hospitals than I did,” Mr. Britt remembered. “She was a giver. She was a very compassionate person. I don’t want to say ‘queenly,’ because that sounds negative, but she was a good queen.”Led by Ms. Feinstein — and the city’s gay and lesbian activists and frontline medical workers — San Francisco wrapped the sick and dying men in its arms and finally became the city of its eponymous friar, St. Francis, who cared for the needy.San Francisco made Dianne Feinstein, but until the gunfire that exploded at City Hall, she had concluded that her political career as a city supervisor was over. After returning from a challenging trek through the Himalayas that month with her future husband, the investment banker Richard Blum, she recalled, “I was firmly convinced I was not electable as mayor.”Ms. Feinstein was widely perceived as too starchy, a goody-goody, the Margaret Dumont in a wacky city filled with Marx Brothers. She was raised to be a political animal; her paternal uncle Morris Goldman, a clothing manufacturer and Democratic Party wheeler-dealer, took her as a girl to “board of stupidvisors” meetings and pointed out how the flick of a city boss’s cigar could change the vote tally. But later, as a young civic reformer, when she visited a hippie commune in the Haight-Ashbury district that had been trashed by a police raid or seedy porn theaters or the down-and-out Tenderloin neighborhood (where she posed as a prostitute in a wig), Ms. Feinstein came off as slightly ridiculous.Newly elected to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, Ms. Feinstein addressed the hard-luck worshipers at Glide Memorial Church, lecturing them about the importance of good hygiene and hard work — and predictably got a tepid response from the congregation. “Dianne,” Glide’s minister, the Rev. Cecil Williams, told her later, “you don’t talk that way to these folks. If they had a place to get cleaned up, most of them would get cleaned up. If they could get a job, they’d get a job.”But Ms. Feinstein — a daughter of privilege, educated at the exclusive Convent of the Sacred Heart High School and Stanford University — did her political homework. She was ready to lead when history came calling.One day in 1979, when Ms. Feinstein, then the interim mayor, was campaigning for election, she went door to door in the city’s rough and redeveloped Fillmore district. Suddenly she was approached by a man who pointed a silver pistol at her head and pulled the trigger. She froze in fear; the City Hall assassinations happened the year before. Out of the man’s gun shot a butane flame instead of a bullet. She quickly gathered herself and went on campaigning. She won the election, even though The San Francisco Chronicle and key political establishment figures supported her more conservative opponent.“She ran the city with an iron fist,” Mike Hennessey, a progressive who served as San Francisco’s sheriff for 32 years, told me. “Of all the mayors I’ve worked with, she was the best. That’s because she took responsibility for this city. San Francisco is a very hard city to run. It’s very politically fractious. It takes a lot of work to hold it together. And that’s what Feinstein did.”In her three decades in the U.S. Senate, to which she was elected in 1992 (four years after her last term as mayor), Ms. Feinstein turned in a more mixed record. Over the years, she gained wide respect, even across the political aisle, for her hard work and political wisdom. But her success at banning assault weapons was undone, and her legislative record is uneven at best.In 2017, as a San Francisco Chronicle columnist, I warned Ms. Feinstein not to run again the next year for the Senate, writing that she would then be 85 and too old for the rigors of the job. But she didn’t listen — and neither did California’s voters.When I think of Dianne Feinstein, I think of her as San Francisco’s mayor. She may not have been the leader many San Franciscans (including me) wanted, but she was the one we needed.David Talbot is the author of, among other books, “Season of the Witch: Enchantment, Terror and Deliverance in the City of Love.” The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

    • 138 Shares119 Views

      in Elections

      Levi’s Heir Daniel Lurie to Challenge San Francisco Mayor London Breed

      by

      Daniel Lurie, 46, said he would run for mayor next year, at a time when many voters in the city are in a sour mood.Daniel Lurie, an heir to the Levi Strauss clothing fortune, announced on Tuesday that he would run against Mayor London Breed of San Francisco next year, at a time when the city is struggling to overcome a number of crises in its downtown core.Mr. Lurie, 46, planned to launch his campaign Tuesday at a community center in the city’s Potrero Hill neighborhood, a longtime working-class area now dotted with multimillion-dollar homes and upscale shops. His entrance in the race signals that Ms. Breed may be vulnerable in her bid for re-election and may have lost the support of some moderate allies.Mr. Lurie said in an interview that he intended to campaign on solving the city’s quality-of-life problems, and that he blames Ms. Breed for doing too little to tackle them.Mr. Lurie is the founder of Tipping Point, an anti-poverty nonprofit. He said that he decided to run for mayor when he was walking his 9-year-old son and 12-year-old daughter to school, and they saw a man stumbling down the street, naked and screaming.Noting that nobody did anything about the situation, himself included, he said he was troubled that city leaders and residents had apparently grown numb to such scenes.“Our kids have come to a place where they’re inured,” he said. “It’s almost like they accept it, which is not OK.”Mr. Lurie filed paperwork for his candidacy on Tuesday at the San Francisco Department of Elections office as his wife, Becca Prowda, looked on.Aaron Wojack for The New York TimesThough many San Francisco neighborhoods came through the pandemic relatively unscathed, the city’s downtown has suffered. Offices have been left vacant while employees work remotely at home. Retailers have struggled, while homeless encampments, fentanyl overdoses and property crimes have endured as serious problems.Mr. Lurie said Ms. Breed had accomplished little, even though voters approved higher taxes to finance homeless services and low-income housing. He said that as mayor, he would add more psychiatric beds to the city’s hospitals, expand the shelter system and pay homeless people to clean the sidewalks.He also said he would place more police officers on the streets and compel more people who are severely mentally ill into treatment, even if they refuse care. San Francisco is one of seven counties in California that will begin a court program this fall with the authority to force people with severe mental illness to be hospitalized if they refuse treatment.Maggie Muir, a spokeswoman for Ms. Breed’s campaign, said Mr. Lurie’s platform did not depart from what the mayor was already trying to do. The only difference, she said, was that Mr. Lurie lacked government experience.“Mayor Breed is working every day to make San Francisco safer and cleaner,” Ms. Muir said. “Why should we trust a beginner to accomplish these things faster?”Ms. Breed, 49, and Mr. Lurie are both San Francisco natives and Democrats, but have very different backgrounds. Ms. Breed, the first Black woman to lead the city, was raised by her grandmother in public housing near City Hall, and now rents an apartment in the Lower Haight, a lively neighborhood popular among young tenants for its restaurants, nightclubs and colorful Victorian homes.Mr. Lurie and Ms. Prowda walked down a hallway at the Department of Elections.Aaron Wojack for The New York TimesFew San Francisco residents have family ties — or riches — that extend as far back in the city as Mr. Lurie’s do. When he was a young child, his mother married Peter Haas, a great grand-nephew of Levi Strauss, the German immigrant who opened a dry goods shop in San Francisco in 1853, when the city was bustling with new arrivals seeking gold in the Sierra Nevada foothills. Mr. Strauss found his own fortune by making durable denim pants for miners, and his company is still synonymous with bluejeans today.Mr. Lurie’s mother, Mimi Haas, is a billionaire. His father, Rabbi Brian Lurie, was the executive director of the Jewish Community Federation of San Francisco. Daniel Lurie is living in Potrero Hill temporarily while his house in Pacific Heights, the wealthy residential area where he grew up, is being renovated.Defeating an incumbent mayor in San Francisco is rarer than a fog-free day in summer; it last happened 28 years ago, when Willie Brown beat Frank Jordan, a former police chief. Unlike Mr. Lurie, Mr. Brown entered that race with extraordinary name recognition, having served as speaker of the California State Assembly for nearly 15 years.Even so, Mayor Breed appears vulnerable as the November 2024 election approaches. While San Francisco residents fiercely defend their city against critics, few are sticking up for her. In poll after poll, city residents have said the city is on the wrong track and that Breed is mishandling the city’s recovery from the pandemic. Her approval ratings hover at about 33 percent.Mr. Lurie joins a mayoral field that so far has just one other challenger: Ahsha Safaí, a San Francisco supervisor and a Democrat, who has centered his campaign on addressing retail theft and expanding the number of police officers. San Francisco will hold one nonpartisan contest for mayor next year, using a system that allows voters to rank their preferred candidates in order. If no candidate wins a majority of first-choice votes, the ranked order would determine the winner and avoid a runoff.San Francisco voters have been in a foul mood. In 2022, they recalled Chesa Boudin, the district attorney, and three members of the school board. Local political consultants said that Ms. Breed was at risk, but that Mr. Lurie will have to overcome progressive voters’ skepticism toward a wealthy candidate, as well as a lack of experience.“He hasn’t gained traction with even the business community as a strong leader who actually has the know-how and spine to shake things up,” said Jim Stearns, a San Francisco political consultant who has worked on past San Francisco campaigns but is not involved in the mayoral race.Mr. Lurie said that he wants to use his privilege to help the city — and that he would ensure that his administration is as ethnically diverse as the city itself.Asked to name the mayor he most admires, Mr. Lurie pointed to Mr. Brown of San Francisco and to Michael Bloomberg of New York City, both known for their pro-business, moderate politics.“Whatever you think of them, they got stuff done,” Mr. Lurie said. “I am bullish on San Francisco, and I’m looking forward to helping put this city back on the right track.” More

    • 150 Shares199 Views

      in Elections

      Jim McGreevey, Who Quit Politics Amid Scandal, Eyes a New Job: Mayor

      by

      Jim McGreevey, New Jersey’s 52nd governor, resigned after admitting to an extramarital affair with a male employee. Now he is preparing for a political comeback.James E. McGreevey, a former New Jersey governor who resigned two decades ago in scandal, has built his career on reinvention. So much so that when he enters a classroom filled with newly freed felons hoping to make the most of their own second chance, they are not sure what to call him.“Governor!” the instructor bellows.“Jim — come on, guys — it’s just Jim!” he counters affably as he fist-bumps several men enrolled in a post-prison career training program he founded and now leads as executive director.Mr. McGreevey, 66, has tried on other titles since he quit politics in 2004 after announcing to his second wife and to the world that he was gay and had had an affair with a man who worked for him.Mr. McGreevey resigned as governor in 2004 after admitting he had had an extramarital affair with a man who worked for him.Associated PressHe published a book, “The Confession,” and starred in a documentary produced by Alexandra Pelosi, a daughter of the former House speaker. He earned a master’s degree in divinity. He had hoped to be ordained an Episcopal priest, but amid the fallout of his bitter divorce the church turned him down.And now Mr. McGreevey, a Democrat who once was thought to have the White House in his sights, is making plans to do what he had said he would not: re-enter politics.Over the past several months, Mr. McGreevey has begun cobbling together support for an expected run for mayor of Jersey City, the state’s second-largest city, where he has lived for eight years.Minutes from New York and teeming with progressive newcomers, Jersey City enjoys a prominent place in regional lore, filled with immigrants, innovation and working-class brio. But it is also 63 miles away from the State House and its attendant power and trappings.Mr. McGreevey, who was born in Jersey City, says he has no problem with the perceived downgrade in prestige.“Being governor is so much about the budget, the dollar,” he reasoned during an interview at the job training center in Kearny, N.J., run by his current employer, the New Jersey Reentry Corporation. “Being mayor is about building strong communities.”He added, “It’s also a worthy place to put my energies, to hopefully do some good.”He expects to make a final decision before Thanksgiving.“I’m getting closer to making that decision in the affirmative,” he said.At least three other Jersey City Democratic leaders are also seriously considering vying for the job. The current mayor, Steven Fulop, who is running for governor, does not intend to run for re-election. But the contest is not until November 2025, setting up a two-year runway in which anything might happen.“I could be dead by then,” said Gerald McCann, 73, a former Jersey City mayor now advising Mr. McGreevey.Still, few would dispute that Mr. McGreevey is winning the race for buzz and institutional support among key power brokers in Hudson County.Nine of the county’s 12 mayors have publicly endorsed his candidacy. A recent fund-raiser for a nonprofit civic organization named for his parents, who, he stressed, were raised in Jersey City, drew labor leaders and local and state officials. And on Saturday he is convening the first of what he calls “listening sessions.”On a recent morning, he wandered the halls of the training center with the confidence of a school principal and the lively gait of a St. Patrick’s Day parade grand marshal. He was eager to discuss the state-funded program in minute detail, including the 268,402 pounds of food it has provided this year to clients, the role of the on-site chaplain and the facility’s free medical and dental services.His phone rang during the interview, and he answered it cheerfully. It was a young detainee at a state psychiatric facility who had been assigned to him as part of the client caseload he maintains, even as executive director. He listened patiently and asked if the man had read the book he shared, “Band of Brothers.”It is his work with current and former prisoners and the insight it has offered about their lack of educational and workplace preparedness, and the realities of the impoverished communities they return home to, that most guides his current ambition, he said.“My sense is Jersey City is at a tipping point, and it ought to be affordable for those families that have lived in the city for three or four generations,” he said.“I had a second chance, too,” Mr. McGreevey told students enrolled in a career training program at the New Jersey Re-entry Corporation. “We believe in a God of second chances.”Bryan Anselm for The New York TimesFans of Mr. McGreevey’s candidacy cite his decades of government experience. Before being elected governor, he was an assemblyman, state senator and mayor of Woodbridge, a sprawling suburban township in central New Jersey.Mr. McGreevey’s 21-year-old daughter, Jacqueline, who, with her older half sister, Morag, grew up in the shadow of their father’s spectacular crash-landing from politics, said part of her wishes he would remain out of the limelight.“I genuinely think that he would do a lot of good for a lot of people,” she said between classes at Barnard College, “so it feels kind of selfish to not want him to pursue it.”“My dad always says, ‘Do the next right thing,’ ” she said, “whether it means study for the next test or help the next person.”“This seems to be kind of a natural progression of where he’s been,” she added, “and what he wants to do.”Whatever happens, Mr. McGreevey said he does not see the job as a steppingstone.“I’m walking down the hill,” he said. “This is it.”Jersey City’s mayoral elections are nonpartisan, a detail that diminishes the ability of county political bosses to design the ballot to all but guarantee a win for their handpicked candidates, as occurs in many other places in New Jersey.Mr. Fulop, who did not have the backing of the county Democratic Party when he was first elected mayor, has not commented on Mr. McGreevey’s potential candidacy. The two have a fraught history: Mr. McGreevey was fired from a job in Jersey City in 2019 after Mr. Fulop and his aides suggested the former governor had misallocated funds, a claim Mr. McGreevey said was untrue and was disproved by independent audits.Jersey City’s mayor, Steven Fulop, is competing for the Democratic nomination for governor and has said that he will not seek re-election to a fourth term in City Hall.Bryan Anselm for The New York TimesThe mayor of Union City, N.J., a powerful county leader, was first to champion Mr. McGreevey’s candidacy, generating a cascade of early institutional support.But two possible Democratic opponents, William O’Dea, a county commissioner, and James Solomon, a city councilman, argued that this outside support, while helpful for fund-raising, could also backfire.“It’s creating this overarching question: ‘Why are these folks who have nothing to do with our city imposing their will on our city?’ ” said Mr. O’Dea, who also held a political fund-raiser this week.Mr. Solomon said voters were savvy enough to think for themselves.“I haven’t met a voter in Jersey City who is concerned with the opinions of power brokers outside of Jersey City,” Mr. Solomon said. “They’re concerned about rents going through the roof and political cronies stealing their tax dollars. They’re going to vote for the candidate who can make their life better.”Politics is not the only community Mr. McGreevey has returned to.After years as an Episcopalian, he has rejoined the Roman Catholic Church, unable to walk away for good from the faith that shaped him as a child and younger man.He attends Mass regularly at Christ the King, a predominantly African American congregation in Jersey City, parishioners say. He is friendly and contributes to the upkeep of the parish. His homosexuality, which the catechism of the Catholic church does not approve of, is not an issue, they say.“We accept him. He accepts us,” said Ann Warren, 63, the parish business administrator.Still, in a city where more than 75 percent of residents are nonwhite, Ms. Warren said the concerted push by county leaders to “recycle their buddies” and put him at the front of the line smacks of the “hypocrisy of the Democratic Party.”Joyce E. Watterman, the first Black woman to serve as City Council president in Jersey City, is among the three likely mayoral candidates pushed to the side as Mr. McGreevey was elevated.“It’s like, ‘We’re all for minorities and blah, blah, blah,” said Ms. Warren, a lifelong resident of Jersey City.“But we’re not willing to invest the funds to put them in positions that matter. It’s just the same old boy network.” More

    • 163 Shares129 Views

      in Elections

      Christine Quinn Fights for Migrants and the Homeless. Could It Destroy Her Dream?

      by

      Christine C. Quinn was impatient. The leader of New York City’s largest provider of shelter for homeless families with children, she peered over her fuchsia reading glasses at her team, assembled in a conference room, and rattled off a list of instructions.Listen to This ArticleListen to this story in the New York Times Audio app on iOS.It was a few weeks after she had helped persuade the City Council to pass some of the most consequential legislation on the worst homelessness crisis in New York City’s history, and a few days before Mayor Eric Adams would veto those bills.Ms. Quinn, the former City Council speaker, directed one of her staff members to offer to brief a deputy mayor on the legislation. She named a handful of journalists who might write more about the bills, a move that she knew would frustrate City Hall’s press office.She rolled her eyes at the mention of one advocacy group she considered especially ponderous, joking it would take months to release new data. And she snapped her fingers at no one in particular as she asked whether a meeting scheduled for the next day could be moved up to that afternoon, or even sooner.“I miss being able to pick up the phone and say, ‘Do this, do it now, get it done,’” she said later.It only takes a few minutes in Ms. Quinn’s presence to understand that she is itching to return to the action and authority of elected office.Once the city’s second-most powerful politician, Ms. Quinn is now a high-profile advocate on one of the most divisive issues in New York City — one that could threaten her chances with voters in the future.As protests against waves of migrants coming into the city grow louder and larger, and New York’s Democrats cannot seem to settle on a path forward, the city’s shelter population has exploded to over 100,000 people — all while affordable housing lags pitifully behind demand.Ms. Quinn has jumped into the fray.Over the past few months, she helped set the stage for the most contentious fight yet between the Council and Mr. Adams, after leading an effort to secure enough votes for the Council to override the mayor’s opposition to the bills.The package of bills that she helped create is part of a push to help free up space in shelters for asylum seekers. The bills will reduce the time homeless people need to wait to look for permanent housing after they enter a shelter, make more homeless people eligible for vouchers that help them pay rent for permanent housing and provide vouchers for those at risk of being evicted.Ms. Quinn, 57, has spent the last eight years using her knowledge of local politics to build an advocacy arm for Win, the shelter provider, and the organization has since become a frequent thorn in the mayor’s side — even as it receives most of its annual funding through contracts with the city.She may no longer run the Council, but she has become a kind of elder stateswoman on homelessness and housing for an especially green group of legislators.For a while after she lost the Democratic primary for mayor in 2013, it was weird to come back to City Hall, Ms. Quinn said. But these days, she embraces the Council’s security guard and janitor on her way into the building.Gabriela Bhaskar for The New York TimesThough Ms. Quinn is firmly back in the mix of New York politics, there is only so much an advocate can do from the outside. The kind of power she really wants is still to be found elsewhere.Ms. Quinn was once considered the person most likely to become the city’s first female and first openly gay mayor. That expectation evaporated in 2013 amid a disastrous Democratic primary in which she went from front-runner to also-ran. For years afterward, she operated largely behind the scenes.Now, she is not coy about still wanting to be mayor one day.That aspiration has created a conundrum for Ms. Quinn: The better she is at expanding Win’s influence, the more she risks alienating the New Yorkers who increasingly view the influx of migrants as a strain on the city and say officials have done enough for them.“Quinn is trying to have a really hard conversation with New Yorkers,” said Christina Greer, a professor of political science at Fordham University. “She’s chosen an issue that is of great import but doesn’t really do her any favors” if she wants to run for any elected office in New York.Even as she says she has no plans to run in a primary against Mr. Adams, she has emerged as a prominent foil, challenging his warnings that the migrant crisis will “destroy” New York and protesting his push to weaken the city’s right-to-shelter law and his declaration that migrant families might be moved into mass shelters.She likes to tell a story about mothers at a Win shelter pooling their extra clothes to donate to migrants as proof that vulnerable families will not be pitted against each other.But the city’s twin homelessness and migrant crises defy such neat packaging.As she looks ahead, Ms. Quinn says she knows full well that these issues are stubborn, at the very least. Making a real dent in homelessness — to say nothing of the migrant crisis — would take a decade or more, Ms. Quinn says, a challenge no mayor can credibly promise to solve in two terms.She knows that voters are not always forgiving of her perceived stumbles. And she is not surprised that some regard her as a politician playing at advocacy before she runs again.For now, Ms. Quinn insists she is unconcerned.“When are you really going to use your capital, when are you really going to do something? In the next job?” she said. “You know, I thought I was going to get the next job. I didn’t.”Crossroads of powerWin, the nation’s largest provider of shelter for homeless families with children, operated shelters but did not have an advocacy arm when Ms. Quinn became its chief executive in 2015. She quickly set about changing that.Gabriela Bhaskar for The New York TimesThe George Washington statue in the white marble lobby of City Hall stands at a crossroads of power.To the right are the Council’s offices, where Ms. Quinn long made her mark on the city.To the left is the mayor’s office, where she assumed she was heading as 2013 drew closer.That race was supposed to be Ms. Quinn’s coronation, as Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg was leaving an open seat for a Democrat to seize. By then, Ms. Quinn had earned a reputation as a pragmatic speaker who vastly expanded the Council’s influence, passing legislation in part by her sheer force of will, including the occasional burst of straight-up yelling.In the primary’s final stretch, her opponents cast her as the second coming of Mr. Bloomberg, a moderate at a moment that demanded something more radical. In what ended up being a fatal blow to her chances, Ms. Quinn had paved the way for Mr. Bloomberg to run a third time by helping overturn the city’s term limits law, a move that voters had soured on.To some, Ms. Quinn seemed to be saying she should be mayor simply because she really, really wanted to be.She finished third, losing to Bill de Blasio.Ms. Quinn spent the first few months of 2014 willing herself to leave her Chelsea apartment.After finishing a distant third in the primary, Ms. Quinn endorsed Bill de Blasio, the winner. She said she spent the next few months struggling to get out of bed.Ozier Muhammad/The New York TimesEventually, after a stint working as a special adviser for Gov. Andrew M. Cuomo and a fellowship at Harvard, Ms. Quinn got a call from a headhunter about Win. Part of it felt like a homecoming. She had spent the early part of her career as a tenant organizer, and, as speaker, she successfully sued Mr. Bloomberg’s administration over its push to limit eligibility for shelter spots and made it easier for tenants to sue their landlords.When she took over in 2015, she quickly began trying to shift the public’s perception of homelessness. New Yorkers knew they were seeing mentally ill people on the streets, but they often did not realize that the majority of the city’s homeless population is made up of families with children, many of whom have 9-to-5 jobs.But there was no way to get people to listen without changing something about Win, which ran shelters but did not advocate on behalf of homeless families.Ms. Quinn began training her staff to become political activists. They have distributed iPads and other devices to 1,600 homeless students learning remotely and created a legal clinic to help migrants apply for asylum.Under her direction, Win — which employs 1,000 people with an annual budget of about $150 million — added seven new shelters and now operates 14. They serve about 7,000 people nightly, and, recently, over 270 families seeking asylum, including about 700 children. Ms. Quinn makes $424,000 a year, roughly triple what she made as speaker.While she has found her way back to a version of a life she never wanted to leave, some of her former peers or rivals have struggled to do the same. Several — Mr. de Blasio, Mr. Bloomberg, and her two successors as speaker — have run for other offices they did not win. Some of her male peers fell in sexual misconduct scandals, including Anthony Weiner, who helped topple Ms. Quinn in 2013.Ms. Quinn may be the only one of the bunch who still has a job that requires telling people things they do not want to hear, over and over.She is used to that.Nice until it wasn’tMs. Quinn visited children living at the Shirley Chisholm Family Residence, a new Win shelter in Park Slope that drew some opposition from local residents.Gabriela Bhaskar for The New York TimesSome years ago, Ms. Quinn and an aide walked to the back of a restaurant and found James Gandolfini, the star of “The Sopranos,” waiting for them. He was unhappy. Ms. Quinn had been pushing to open a sanitation department garage in his TriBeCa neighborhood.Mr. Gandolfini, who died in 2013, told her if she did not reconsider, he was prepared to blanket TriBeCa with fliers criticizing her. She told him to do what he needed to do.“It was a nice conversation until it wasn’t,” Ms. Quinn recalled. “You can’t have a city that calls itself fair and equitable if only some parts of the city are doing their part.”That is particularly true when you are building homeless shelters in neighborhoods where many residents do not want them.Consider Win’s newest shelter, set to serve about 200 families on Staten Island.At a 2019 town hall, Ms. Quinn sought to explain that Staten Island needed a shelter in part so that the borough’s many homeless families could remain close to their children’s public schools. Residents appeared unmoved, and Ms. Quinn was greeted by “an aggressively pissed off” group, she recalled.Afterward, The Staten Island Advance published an opinion piece dismissing her chances amid rumors of another run: “Christine Quinn for mayor? Not after homeless shelter debacle.”It is a change for Ms. Quinn, who spent years fending off criticism from progressives who found her too cozy with Mr. Bloomberg and his conservative allies. Now, she is going up against a highly passionate force that is skeptical of new shelters. While the migrant crisis has prompted a reshaping of that movement to include more Democrats, it has been led by Republican politicians and advocates.Protesters rallied against a facility housing migrants on Staten Island in August. Demonstrations against migrant shelters have become larger in recent months.Stephanie Keith for The New York TimesRepresentative Nicole Malliotakis, a Republican, said Staten Islanders she represents are fed up with Democrats like Ms. Quinn “building shelter after shelter in communities that don’t want them” — particularly for migrants.But even some who might have been sympathetic to Ms. Quinn say they were turned off by the debate over the Win shelter, set to open later this year in an area that tends to vote Democratic.“You don’t poke a stick in the eye of a potentially favorable community,” said Michael Harwood, a member of the St. George Civic Association.Mr. Harwood said Win did not communicate effectively with residents about the impact of the shelter and noted that Ms. Quinn had opposed a new shelter in her own Manhattan district when she was speaker.Ms. Quinn says she has a new calculus for decision making.She acknowledges that some of her choices as speaker were made more because of future ambitions rather than the right policy, and she regrets it.So even as she weighs whether and how to return to elected office, she says she is focused on immediate goals: moving more families into permanent housing faster, raising more private money, making Win into a top developer of affordable housing with services for formerly homeless families — and continuing to shape city policy.But it does not always feel like enough.She recently remembered something that Judith S. Kaye, the late chief judge of New York State, once told her: She would have paid a million dollars to keep her job for just five more minutes.It was a joke, sort of. But it is how Ms. Quinn feels about being speaker, and the reason she is given to daydreaming about how much more she could accomplish on homelessness, the migrant crisis and housing if she ran the city one day.The idea of actually getting elected on the agenda of addressing those crises might seem like a bit of a fantasy.But Ms. Quinn believes, still, that there is a first time for everything in New York City politics.“In a way, it would be the greatest issue for a mayor to take on,” she said. “If you solve the unsolvable, you get credit.”Audio produced by More

    • 125 Shares99 Views

      in Elections

      He Faces Jan. 6 Trespassing Charges. He Might Become Mayor.

      by

      Gino DiGiovanni Jr., who was charged with trespassing at the U.S. Capitol, is the presumptive Republican nominee for mayor in a small Connecticut city that voted for President Biden.The final votes have not been tallied. The race has not been called.But initial results from the Republican mayoral primary in Derby, Conn., this week indicate that voters have rejected the city’s three-term incumbent in favor of a man who was charged with trespassing during the Jan. 6 Capitol riot.Gino DiGiovanni Jr., a member of the local board of aldermen, beat Mayor Richard Dziekan by just 10 votes — 202 to 192 — which triggered an automatic recount, set for noon on Friday.The rise of Mr. DiGiovanni, 42, has astonished leaders in Connecticut, where 59 percent of voters cast their ballots for Joseph R. Biden Jr. in 2020. Only a handful of Connecticut residents have been charged in connection with the riot.His win is also notable for Derby, an old mill city of just over 12,000 people. The presidential race was close: Mr. Biden beat Donald J. Trump in Derby by four points. So was the 2021 race for mayor: Mr. Dziekan beat his Democratic opponent by just 48 votes.“It’s not like Derby is some town in the Deep South where there’s an overwhelming amount of support for Trump,” said Roy Occhiogrosso, a longtime Democratic operative in Connecticut, adding, “It’s not a hotbed of MAGA activity.”If Mr. DiGiovanni’s win in the Republican primary holds, Mayor Dziekan, 57, intends to appear on the November ballot anyway, as a candidate unaffiliated with a political party. He would also face Joe DiMartino, 57, the Democratic nominee; and Sharlene McEvoy, a 73-year-old retired law professor, another nonaffiliated candidate.Mr. DiGiovanni is among just a handful of elected officials across the country to be charged in connection with the Capitol riot. Bob Duff, the State Senate majority leader in Connecticut, said Mr. DiGiovanni’s rise shows the danger of voters not paying close attention to local elections. “Too many people focus entirely on the federal level,” he said.But the local level is where the fight for democracy matters most, he said. “The system of government gets infiltrated, and then people work their way up. That’s where it rots.”Mr. DiGiovanni, who said he recognizes Mr. Biden as president, said he traveled to Washington on Jan. 6, 2021, to hear Mr. Trump’s speech. Then, he said, he followed the crowd. He entered the Capitol through a door that a Capitol Police officer was holding open, took a look around, and left, he said. He saw no violence, he said, and engaged in no violence.“I didn’t go down there to overthrow the government,” he said, adding, “I didn’t know there was going to be a quote-unquote insurrection.”He faces federal misdemeanor trespassing charges but has not yet entered a plea.“I’m not an election denier,” he said, adding, “I’m not this crazy tinfoil-hat conspiracy wack job.”Statewide, Mr. DiGiovanni said, he is now known as a “domestic terrorist.” But locally, he is widely liked. He played and later coached football, and he helped build a local Sept. 11 memorial.“There are people who have given Gino a pass for his role in Jan. 6 because he is a nice guy,” said Jim Gildea, the chair of Derby’s board of education and a longtime figure in city politics.Even Mr. DiGiovanni’s political opponents speak mildly of him and his actions on Jan. 6.“Was his judgment a little off?” said Mayor Dziekan. “I think so. But he’s a great guy.”Mr. DiMartino, the Democrat, said, “I don’t think it was a great move on his part,” adding, “I’m not trying to really bash him.”In fact, Derby leaders said, the primary was less a referendum on Mr. DiGiovanni’s participation on Jan. 6 than on Mayor Dziekan’s record.Earlier this month, state officials put Derby’s finances under strict oversight after an audit found a $1.9 million deficit when the city was projected to have a $1 million surplus. The city does not have a finance director, a main criticism of Mr. Dziekan.“I’m a mayor, but my hands are tied,” he said. “I can only do so much, and sometimes, people are going to get mad at you.”Noah Bookbinder, the president of Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington, a government watchdog, said that voters’ support of Mr. DiGiovanni reveals a worrying trend: Although only a few politicians were charged in connection with Jan. 6, many play down the violence.“The significance in some ways goes beyond both the size of this particular community in Connecticut,” he said, arguing that acceptance makes it harder for the country to learn from the riot.Connecticut lawmakers considered a bill that would have barred people who participated in an insurrection from holding office. But the legislation died, said Mr. Duff, who co-sponsored it.Mr. DiGiovanni, Mr. Duff said, “was Exhibit A as to why we needed this legislation.” He added, “He should not be anywhere near the levers of government.” More

    • 138 Shares199 Views

      in Elections

      Eric Ulrich, Former NYC Buildings Commissioner, Faces at Least Two Indictments

      by

      The former commissioner, Eric Ulrich, will be arraigned on Wednesday, along with at least four other defendants, several of whom raised money for the campaign of Mayor Eric Adams.The former commissioner of New York City’s buildings department surrendered to the Manhattan district attorney’s office early Wednesday morning to face at least two indictments in which he is accused of bribery, according to people with knowledge of the matter.The former commissioner, Eric Ulrich, is expected to be arraigned at 2:15 p.m., after a news conference by the district attorney, Alvin L. Bragg, and the head of the city’s Department of Investigation, Jocelyn Strauber. The full scope of the bribery case is expected to be revealed there.Mr. Ulrich surrendered at the district attorney’s office in Lower Manhattan shortly after 7 a.m. He was accompanied by his lawyer, Samuel M. Braverman, and was carrying a copy of Bill O’Reilly’s book, “Killing Jesus: A History.”People with knowledge of the matter said that at least five other defendants were expected to be charged along with him, most of whom donated to the campaign of Mayor Eric Adams, raised money for him, or both. Four were expected to be arraigned on Wednesday.Mr. Ulrich, who also was a fund-raiser for Mr. Adams, served as a senior adviser and was appointed to head the Buildings Department in May 2022.Mr. Ulrich resigned six months later, when news of the investigation surfaced. The other defendants are expected to be accused of seeking favors from him related to his position, according to the people with knowledge of the matter.Mr. Ulrich was expected to be charged along with Mark Caller, a Brooklyn real estate developer whom prosecutors will accuse of having offered Mr. Ulrich a discounted luxury apartment.Mr. Caller’s firm, the Marcal Group, worked on developing commercial and residential projects in Brooklyn, Queens and the Bronx, including an 86-unit condo building in Rockaway Park and several others in the Rockaways, according to news reports from the real estate website The Real Deal and The City.According to the Marcal Group’s website, Mr. Caller “amassed a $100 million portfolio” of more than 1,500 units in “underserved communities.” The Marcal Group says in recent years it has collaborated with the city’s housing department on affordable housing projects and with Maimonides Medical Center on medical facilities.Also expected to face charges are Joseph and Anthony Livreri, brothers who own a Queens pizzeria, and Michael Mazzio, who operates a Brooklyn towing company. The Livreri brothers were also seen entering the district attorney’s office on Wednesday, shortly before 6:45 a.m.Law enforcement officials have identified Mr. Mazzio and the Livreri brothers as having connections to organized crime, and prosecutors had sought to find out more about Mr. Ulrich’s relationship with organized-crime figures.The district attorney’s office declined to comment before the 1 p.m. news conference.A lawyer for Mr. Caller, Benjamin Brafman, said his client “intends to plead not guilty and fully expects to be exonerated.”James R. Froccaro, Mr. Mazzio’s lawyer, said the tow company operator would enter a plea of not guilty, adding, “He’s innocent.”Mr. Ulrich’s lawyer, Mr. Braverman, referred to a statement he had made previously that noted he would not respond to any allegations before seeing the charges.A lawyer for the Livreris could not be reached for comment.Mr. Adams is not expected to be charged, but the investigation has put him in an uncomfortable position, given his appointment of Mr. Ulrich. His name has repeatedly surfaced in connection with the inquiry.Mr. Ulrich, the Livreri brothers and Mr. Mazzio were hosts of an August 2021 fund-raiser on behalf of Mr. Adams.Mr. Ulrich has said that Mr. Adams warned him of the investigation, which the mayor has denied doing. And Mr. Adams was among those whose conversations were wiretapped by investigators.A spokesman for the mayor said in a statement that Mr. Adams would “allow this investigation to run its course and will continue to assist the D.A. in any way needed.”The statement said, as City Hall has maintained for weeks, that Mr. Adams “has not received any requests from the Manhattan D.A. surrounding this matter and has never spoken to Mr. Ulrich about this investigation.”Mihir Zaveri More