Mayor Jackson was Re-Elected, But Will He Lose Power to the County Executive? Plain Dealer/NEOMG November 08, 2009

Election night was sweet for Frank Jackson: Voters re-elected him mayor of Cleveland and cleared the way for a casino, hoping to deliver an economic jackpot for his financially strapped city.

But voters also handed Jackson – and all the Cleveland mayors who will come after – a political test.

Come 2011, the mayor of Cleveland may no longer be the most powerful elected official in Northeast Ohio. That job is likely to pass to the Cuyahoga County executive, a position created by Issue 6, the charter measure that voters overwhelmingly approved last week to reform county government.

Jackson, as mayor, will still represent a shrinking city of about 430,000. He’ll still be responsible for balancing the city’s budget, making sure the streets are plowed and planning Cleveland’s future.

But he’ll have to do it alongside a county executive who represents three times the population – 1.3 million people, including the mayor’s own constituents. Some say the number of people the executive represents would make that person the most powerful single elected official in the state other than the governor.

How will the relationship between the mayor and county executive work?

“There’s intense speculation on who is going to be the spokesman for the region,” said economist Edward “Ned” Hill, dean of the urban-affairs college at Cleveland State University.

That could shift over time, depending on who holds the mayor and county executive jobs, he said, and it may come down to who can get things done.

Jackson – who steadfastly opposed Issue 6 – declined to comment for this story. It will be almost another year before the county executive is chosen. Political insiders already are jockeying to see what names get on the ballot.

Whoever wins will end up tethered to Jackson in a sort of three-legged race. They don’t have a choice. Each needs the other to better the county and the city. It’s up to them to make it work.

“The recognition of that symbiosis is pivotal,” said David Abbott, executive director of the George Gund Foundation and a former county administrator.

The county executive, for example, needs to work with the mayor to accomplish large-scale projects that affect the region, like Gateway and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum, Abbott said.

And the mayor needs to work with the executive to receive tens of millions of local, state and federal dollars that support the city’s budget and social services, he said.

Despite Jackson’s opposition to Issue 6, many believe the mayor will work with the county executive because that’s what voters want, said Chris Ronayne, president of University Circle Inc. and a former Cleveland planning director. Both he and Abbott have been mentioned as possibilities for the county executive slot.

But a future mayor may not cooperate with a county executive.

“Instead of a three-legged race, it could look more like two scorpions in a bottle,” CSU’s Hill said.

Allegheny County, Pittsburgh battle it out

Allegheny County, home to Pittsburgh, switched to a county executive form of government in 2000. And for the first time since the Great Depression, the blue-collar Pennsylvania county elected a Republican to a countywide position.

Voters picked James C. Roddey, a local businessman, to serve as their county executive.

It was awkward at first, Roddey recalled during a phone interview. “Did the Pittsburgh mayor know I had more power than he did? Probably . . . but he didn’t really accept that.”

The two didn’t get along, but it didn’t matter early on, said Joseph Sabino Mistick, a law professor at Duquesne University and a Pittsburgh political columnist. Because Roddey was a Republican, “he had no allegiance to city leadership” and could go about reforms, said Mistick, a Democrat.

Roddey said he launched the first property reassessments in 30 years and slashed the county work force from 7,000 to 5,500, turning a $36 million budget deficit into a $4 million surplus within four years.

Roddey said he lost his bid for a second term because of voter anger over higher property taxes. He maintains his time in office set the region on the right course.

Since then, Mistick said, everyone has recognized that the real power lies with the county executive.

The Pittsburgh area – which had no clout – now commands power that puts it in the same league as Philadelphia.

“And that’s good for us because we’re able to demand attention,” Mistick said.

Meanwhile, tensions between subsequent county executives and Pittsburgh mayors have emerged.

“It’s fair to say our current mayor and executive started off on better terms than previous,” Mistick said. “But a multitude of little turf battles have had a cumulative effect. While they publicly still support each other, they are estranged.”

Summit, Akron working together

Akron Mayor Don Plusquellic has spent 30 years working with Summit County executives and said he’s gotten along with most of them.

Sometimes the city/county partnership hasn’t worked – about 15 years ago, the county executive was so tied up with a self-interested County Council that he didn’t have time for the city, Plusquellic said.

But other times that partnership has made all the difference, such as when the city and county recently paired up to save 3,100 jobs at Goodyear.

Plusquellic said that when he heard the jobs were in jeopardy, he called Summit County Executive Russ Pry. Although the jobs were in Akron, Plusquellic printed out a list of home addresses showing hundreds of people in surrounding suburbs who would lose their work.

The county and the city united and saved the jobs.

The outspoken mayor, who has carved out a national reputation for innovative accomplishments, urged politicians in Cuyahoga County to put away their pettiness. He said it’s been holding back Cleveland, Akron and the region for too long. “I don’t think anybody should be looking down their noses at anyone who wants to bring progress,” he said.

“If you have someone in office who cares more about someone overshadowing him than moving forward or someone who complains about ‘that darn county executive bringing in 10,000 jobs and then taking credit’ … well, that’s a pretty sick person,” Plusquellic said. “Stop the jealousy. Stop the greed. I don’t care which side of the river you’re on up there, you have to get past this.”

News researcher Tonya Sams contributed to this report.

County Government Reform is Likely to Happen in Stages Plain Dealer/NEOMG November 9, 2009

The revolution will arrive in waves.

In January 2011, a new Cuyahoga County Council will meet, its 11 members bucking commissioners’ habit of staid rubber-stamping to jostle and debate. The first Cuyahoga County executive will take over, and with 1.3 million people to serve, become the second most powerful leader in Ohio.

By June, a regional group will present a five-year plan to promote economic development.

Other more far-reaching changes are demanded in the governing charter that county voters approved Tuesday. Yet some of those changes could take years – even decades – and will require continual vigilance by voters, experts say.

Experts also say that charters have worked in other counties, including in neighboring Summit, and five other similar-size counties nationwide, by giving the government home-rule powers, rather than restricting it to the rights outlined by the state.

“You’ll see immediately some real changes in the way the county operates,” said attorney Eugene Kramer, who wrote the Cuyahoga charter. “But a great deal depends on who gets elected. . . . It won’t be enough to say, ‘I voted, that’s the end of it.’ People have to pay attention.”

Voters paid attention this fall to decipher two competing reform plans.

They rejected the county commissioners’ measure to create a panel that would craft a new form of government and, instead, voted 2 to 1 to enact a new charter, a sort of constitution for the county.

That document calls for 11 council members, each representing a geographic district, as well as an elected prosecutor, and an elected executive. The elected offices of auditor, clerk of courts, coroner, engineer, recorder, sheriff and treasurer will be abolished to make way for administrators appointed by the executive.

The reform makes the government more streamlined, since the executive will be responsible for virtually all services. But it also makes it a bit messier, since the council must approve spending.

County Council members will be beholden to their constituents and so, will likely fight for projects for their geographic districts. Members will probably debate more. They may have to read legislation more than once.

That system ensures checks and balances, said Joel Lieske, a political science professor at Cleveland State University.

“The county commissioner system was kind of speak no evil, see no evil, hear no evil,” Lieske said. “The county has lacked leadership.”

In the first few months under the charter, council members are expected to tackle a code of ethics and campaign finance reform. They will also standardize hiring practices and eliminate unnecessary jobs. And by the end of the year, the council will pass its first annual budget.

Meanwhile, the county executive will run the day-to-day county operations. The executive will also work with the economic development commission (made up of representatives from Cleveland, the Cleveland-Cuyahoga Port Authority, the Cuyahoga County Mayors and Managers Association, the Greater Cleveland Partnership, the North Shore Federation of Labor and a nonprofit organization) to attract new business to the county.

Having one leader instead of three can make it easier to accomplish goals, said Stephen Brooks, the associate director of the Ray Bliss Institute of Applied Politics at the University of Akron.

“You have a single person who can get involved with the negotiations that need to be done and really push things through,” he said.

The leader can work hand in hand with Cleveland Mayor Frank Jackson, as well as Summit County Executive Russell Pry. He or she can urge progress from a bully pulpit and encourage regionalism by offering financial incentives to municipalities that collaborate.

Some experts doubt any county structure can have much impact on economic development.

“It’s extremely wishful thinking,” said Joseph White, the director of the Center for Policy Studies at Case Western Reserve University.

White said development depends much more on geography, the global marketplace and the education of the work force.

Regardless, White and others believe the success of the new government depends on who gets elected.

“Who you elect to that position now has become much more important than past leadership,” Brooks said. “The vote you make for the county executive is the vote that you’re making for the county.”

In Summit County, Pry has partnered with Akron Mayor Don Plusquellic to combine building departments and police operations, keep the Goodyear headquarters in Akron and create a $70 million BioInnovation Institute that involves regional hospitals, the University of Akron and the Northeastern Ohio Universities College of Medicine.

“There are synergies you can take advantage of in this system,” said Pry, who concentrates on attracting and keeping jobs, since without jobs, he has more problems with the rest of his budget.

Pry is the county’s fourth executive since its charter took hold in 1980.

But he is one of the first Summit executives to flex the charter’s muscle, using powers written in the document.

Still, because Summit County government has more elected officials than Cuyahoga, it’s hard to compare the counties, said Janice Patterson of the Cuyahoga Area League of Women Voters.

She listed five other counties – Palm Beach and Hillsborough (Tampa), Fla.; Allegheny, Pa. (Pittsburgh); Oakland, Mich. (Pontiac); and Hennepin, Minn. (Minneapolis) – which have populations within 100,000 residents of Cuyahoga’s.

All have charters, Patterson said. Which makes it fitting that Cuyahoga has one now too.

“There are sweeping changes that have to take place,” she said. “So to those who are paying attention, I think that will be pretty noticeable and pretty interesting.”

New Ohio House Speaker, Armond Budish, Vows to Push For Cities; Regionalism Plain Dealer January 5, 2009

Columbus – Ohio’s big cities could see special treatment from the state with income tax breaks on new jobs, more money for school construction and free broadband services for urban businesses under a plan unveiled Monday by new Democratic House Speaker Armond Budish.

However, those potential freebies wouldn’t come without a price – Ohio’s urban areas would have to participate in state purchasing cooperatives and abide by the results of a study focusing on whether regionalizing services such as fire and trash pickup would save public dollars.

Cities also would have to match the income tax break on newly created jobs with their own municipal tax breaks.

The push for regionalism by the first House speaker from Northeast Ohio in more than 70 years could provide a needed spark for local leaders, who have promoted regionalism for years but made little progress. Budish is the first powerful lawmaker in Columbus to take the lead on the idea.

During his opening remarks to the 99-member House, now controlled by Democrats for the first time in 14 years, the Beachwood Democrat wasted no time pushing an agenda for urban areas that he said the Republican-controlled legislature has overlooked.

Budish called specifically for a compact between the state and major cities with special incentives in exchange for what would be an eventual move toward more regionalism.

“I don’t anticipate forcing any cities to do anything, but with incentives and review, there may be a number of services that can be offered more efficiently by groups of cities or regions getting together,” Budish told reporters after his speech, which officially kicked off the 128th General Assembly.

The 55-year-old Democrat also pledged to step up the use of successful tax credit programs such as those targeted at green businesses, new technologies and innovative businesses. He offered no details on how any of these plans would be paid for, saying all such conversations would take place when lawmakers discuss Ohio’s next operating budget this spring.

New House Minority Leader Rep. Bill Batchelder, a Medina Republican and well-known fiscal conservative, sounded open to the idea of targeted tax incentives and special help for cities.

“I might or might not agree with the policy recommendations he is making, but we simply have to save the cities,” he said. “What we have to do is run a far more constructive program for the cities, we have to get law and order back in the cities and have to do things in the schools that will get the middle class to come back to the cities.”

Keith Dailey, spokesman for Gov. Ted Strickland, said “there were a number of worthy ideas” put forth by Budish, including the idea of increased collaboration among regions.

“The governor has been successful taking that approach with the University System of Ohio in looking to increase efficiencies and find cost savings,” said Dailey.

Budish’s offer to work with cities was a welcome change for local leaders who in recent years felt ignored by the General Assembly in favor of rural communities. The Northeast Ohio Mayors and City Managers Association has already overwhelmingly agreed to the concept of a regionalism plan, though details still need to be worked out. So, too, have the mayors of Cleveland, Akron and Youngstown.

But mayors did express concern about Budish’s call for cities to waive municipal income taxes for several years as part of the deal.

“We look forward to working with Speaker Budish and have already talked about scheduling periodic meetings with him to discuss issues important to Cleveland,” Cleveland Mayor Frank Jackson said in a statement. “While we are enthusiastic about discussing the particulars in his plan, we would be remiss not to include our concern about the waiver of local income taxes.”

Pepper Pike Mayor Bruce Akers also applauded Budish but wants more details.

“I am definitely for the whole concept of regionalism, but obviously the devil is in the details, so I would like to know more,” Akers said in an interview.

Budish rolled out his urban agenda on the most ceremonial of days for state lawmakers as oaths of office were delivered on the House floor by Ohio Supreme Court Chief Justice Tom Moyer to groups of 11 lawmakers at a time.

On the Senate side, Ohio Supreme Court Justice Evelyn Stratton did the honors for Republicans, who dominate the chamber, 21-12. Appeals Court Judge Joe Vukovich swore in the Senate Democrats.

Thirty-three House members were sworn in for the first time.

Regionalism in Louisville Working, But Black Political Power Dwindles Plain Dealer/NEOMG August 26, 2007


Optimism is in rich supply in the “Big Lou” these days, and why not?

Louisville, Ky., is rapidly reclaiming its waterfront, replacing scrap yards with parkland. New condos and historic restorations are awakening a once-sleepy downtown, and a new skyscraper is on the way.

Employers are investing, and how. Last year, UPS announced a $1 billion expansion of its distribution hub at Louisville International Airport, promising 5,000 new jobs.

Local leaders point to the projects and progress as testimonials to their metro government, America’s first city-county merger in 30 years.

“It gave me the chance to set an agenda for the whole region,” said Jerry Abramson, Louisville’s outgoing mayor and an architect of the merger. “If you start pitching yourself as a region, if you start seeing yourself as a region, you can be very, very successful.”

Regional cooperation, Abramson and others say, made complex projects and far-sighted planning go down as smooth as the bourbon that famously flows from local distilleries.

Many black leaders find the price hard to swallow. A bigger, busier Louisville is also notably whiter, and that equates to less black political power. Regionalism advocates took advantage of a voting system that allowed them to roll over black opposition.

Yet representatives of struggling regions flock to northern Kentucky to see a model of reinvention. As a fourth installment in its “Region Uniting?” series, The Plain Dealer looks at what the blueprint for “America’s newest city” might offer to our own struggling region.

Are there lessons we might learn? Strategies we might follow? At the very least, does Louisville’s daring move offer our own advocates for regional cooperation reasons to keep trying?

In the beginning

With a bold vote in 2000, residents of Louisville and surrounding Jefferson County narrowly approved a city-county merger that, when completed in 2003, catapulted Louisville from 67th place on the list of America’s largest cities to 16th.

Leading up to the vote, advocates for regional government faced many of the same obstacles and resistance seen in Greater Cleveland.

Leaders in the 90-plus suburbs didn’t want to surrender control or adopt the city’s burdens. Urban black leaders feared that a merger would dilute their city-based political power.

But unlike here, schools in Louisville and its suburbs had merged into one district decades earlier. The city and county also agreed in 1985 to merge several city and county departments, including planning and economic development.

And unlike here, state lawmakers in Kentucky, pushed by the Louisville business community, got involved in a big way. In 1998, they named a task force of all city and county elected officials, 56 in all, to design a new merger plan.

As a proposal came together, key leadership stepped forward to sell it. Kentucky’s senior U.S. senator, Mitch McConnell, joined the pro-merger campaign and vowed to “finish the job.”

Business groups financed a $1 million “Say Yes to Unity” campaign that left little to chance. When late tracking polls identified women aged 24 to 35 as anti-merger, TV and radio ads stressed that merger would attract jobs to “keep our babies at home.”

Merger advocates also dodged a contentious issue. Suburbs were allowed to remain independent. They could keep their police, government and recreation programs, yet still vote for Metro mayor and council. Suburban opposition faded, and blacks lost a key anti-merger ally.

Merger planners tried to soften black opposition. They carved out voting districts that ensured five “safe seats” for blacks on a 26-member Metro Council, in proportion to the black population.

They pledged that city services would not be cut to match lower levels of services in the county. And they stressed that a metro city, united behind one mayor, could attract jobs for everyone.

Still, Louisville Urban League President Benjamin Richmond stood almost alone urging blacks to accept a smaller share of a growing pie. Young black professionals rallied to his side, but every elected black official in the city and county opposed merger. About 70 percent of black voters rejected the idea.

But in the end, black voters lacked the numbers to defeat a plan that needed only a single countywide majority vote to re-create the government.

“Merger dissolved the African-American power base,” said Darryl Owens, a black Kentucky state representative from “old city” Louisville. “It lessens our political influence. Most people like to have influence. That makes sure your issues get addressed.”

Lessons for here

Experts say a Louisville-style merger could not easily happen in a strong home-rule state like Ohio. Cuyahoga County would need the endorsement of every community involved, including Cleveland, which is nearly 60 percent black.

And so high is black mistrust of regional government, experts say, that no black-majority city in America has ever merged with its home county. Even basic regionalism strategies, like tax sharing and regional planning, face higher hurdles in regions of great diversity.

Last month, a leading black business group in Northeast Ohio, the President’s Council, released a review of regionalism that advises tiptoeing into the uncharted waters.

The report acknowledges the need for regional cooperation but insists that century-old government structures be left untouched.

The study, directed by John Powell, an Ohio State University social scientist who studies regionalism and its impact on minority communities, trumpets a theme: Equity. It calls for regional magnet schools, tax sharing and anti-sprawl measures.

Powell said the authors were writing to their audience. Any mention of consolidation would kill discussion in the black community, he said, just as a suggestion to regionalize schools would scare off Solon, Brecksville and Rocky River.

“First, you have to build some confidence,” he said.

Barbara Shanklin understands the trepidation, and the possibilities. She opposed merger as a black member of the Louisville City Council and now sits beside representatives of suburbs and farm country on the Metro Council.

With regional resources pooled, her majority-black district suddenly has money for youth programs it once could not afford, Shanklin said. And it benefits from something she never imagined.

At times, when her discretionary money has run low, representative of other, wealthier districts passed resources her way. She has done the same for others.

“When we first merged, everybody looked out for their own area,” she said. “Now, people on this council help each other. It’s, like, regionalism.”

A New Cleveland Without Borders Plain Dealer/NEOMG January 25, 2004

A REGION DIVIDED / Is there a better way?

Welcome to the city of Metro Cleveland. We’re new, but we suspect you’ve heard of us.

We’re the largest city in Ohio, by far. With 1.3 million residents, we’re the sixth-largest city in America. Right back in the Top 10.

Our freshly consolidated city covers 459 square miles on the Lake Erie shore. Our economic development authority – enriched through regional cooperation – wields the power to borrow a whopping $500 million.

So, yes, America, we have a few plans.

How do you like us now?

Merging Cleveland and Cuyahoga County into a single super-city is only one example of “new regionalism” being discussed across the country. In fact, it illustrates one of the most aggressive and seldom-used strategies to revive a metropolitan area by eliminating duplicated services, sharing tax dollars across political boundaries and planning with a regional view.

At the other end of the spectrum stand places like present-day Cleveland – a tired city with rigid boundaries watching helplessly as its wealth and jobs drain away.

In between are dozens of regions where city and suburbs agreed to plan new industries, or began sharing taxes, or staked out “green lines” to slow sprawl and encourage investment in urban areas – cooperative strategies aimed at lifting the whole region.

Some dreams came true and others did not. Regional government does not solve every problem or achieve overnight success, experts caution. But the evidence suggests it allows cities like Cleveland to do something not dared here in a long time. It allows them to dream.

Dream big.

“Regional government would let Cleveland compete in the new economy,” said Bruce Katz, a specialist in metropolitan planning for the Brookings Institution.

“Overnight, we’d become a national player,” said Mark Rosentraub, dean of the College of Urban Affairs at Cleveland State University.

“These ideas are not crazy,” insists Myron Orfield, a Minnesota state senator and one of the nation’s best-known proponents of regional planning. “Regionalism is centrist. It’s happening. Ohio is one of the few industrialized states that has not done anything.”

Orfield is often credited with popularizing new regionalism through his 1997 book, “Metropolitics.” It details regional partnerships he fostered in the Minneapolis-St. Paul metro area, strategies like tax sharing.

In 1969, the seven counties surrounding the Twin Cities began sharing taxes from new business and industry, pooling the money and giving it to the communities that needed it most.

Designed to revive the cities, the plan worked so well that Minneapolis now sends taxes to its suburbs.

(SEE CORRECTION NOTE) These days, a newer model of regionalism is drawing policy planners and mayors to northern Kentucky. Louisville merged with its home county last year to form the Louisville/Jefferson County Metro Government, becoming America’s 23rd-largest city as Cleveland slipped to 34th.

Much of the messy work of merging city and county departments remains, but Louisville Mayor Jerry E. Abramson said his community is already enjoying cost savings and something more – rising self-esteem.

Louisville residents had brooded as civic rivals Nashville and Indianapolis used regional cooperation to lure jobs, people and major-league sports teams. Fearful of being left forever behind, voters approved a dramatic merger that had been rejected twice before.

“I think people saw that those cities were moving ahead more quickly,” Abramson said. “We decided we would do better speaking with one voice for economic growth.”

History suggests such unity would not come easy to Northeast Ohio. Look at a detailed map of Ohio’s most populous county, Cuyahoga, and you’ll see a kaleidoscope of governments: one county, 38 cities, 19 villages, two townships, 33 school districts, and dozens of single-minded taxing authorities.

The idea of huddling them behind a single quarterback is not new. At least six times since 1917, voters rejected plans for regional government, spurning the most recent reform plan in 1980.

“You know why? People like small-town atmosphere,” said Faith Corrigan, a Willoughby historian who raised her family in Cleveland Heights. “It’s been said Cleveland is the largest collection of small towns in the world.”

Any effort at civic consensus in Northeast Ohio also means bridging a racial divide, which helped to defeat the last three reform efforts. Black civic leaders suspected a larger, whiter city would dilute their hard-won influence and political power. Those sentiments remain.

“Yes, we’re fearful of less representation,” said Sabra Pierce Scott, a Cleveland City councilwoman who represents the Glenville neighborhood, which is mostly black. “It’s taken us a long time to get here.”

Meanwhile, residents of wealthy suburbs may see little to gain by sharing taxes with Cleveland, let alone giving up the village council.

“I think it’s almost a fool’s dream to think you could even accomplish it,” said Medina County Commissioner Steve Hambley.

Yet opposition to regional government is softening. Recently, Urban League director Myron Robinson told his board members that regional cooperation could give black children access to better schools and should be discussed.

Mayors of older suburbs, facing their own budget woes, are questioning the wisdom of paying for services that might be efficiently shared, like fire protection and trash collection.

And Cleveland business leaders, many of whom live in the suburbs, are emerging as some of the strongest supporters of regional sharing and planning. They say a strong city is essential to the region’s prosperity and that Cleveland cannot rise alone.

For models of what might work, they look to any one of a dozen metropolitan areas that forged regional partnerships in recent decades – and to a few impassioned local believers.

“If I were God for a day,” CSU’s Rosentraub declares, he would simply merge the city and county bonding powers behind aplanning agency with teeth. He would create a $500 million revolving development fund, big enough to launch the kinds of projects that change skylines.

That kind of cooperation, Rosentraub said, would also send a message across the land. We’re big. We’re regional. We’re working together.


13 municipal Courts

33 school districts

59 municipalities

72 police departments*

110 fire stations

479 elected mayors, trustees, city and village council members

1,413 school buses

*Includes hospital, college and other small police departments recognized by Ohio attorney general’s office.


David Abbott Talks on “Regionalism” at Cleveland City Club 4.25.14 (Video)

David Abbott, Executive Director, The George Gund Foundation discusses the importance of regionalism within northeast Ohio and Cleveland, noting the importance of keeping young people in the region and promoting inclusion and diversity to prosper more than the regions that don’t. He says that Cleveland must focus on the future more than reflecting on past glories in order to compete as a region

The link is here

You Can Run, But You Can’t Hide – Cleveland Magazine

You Can Run, But You Can’t Hide – Cleveland Magazine article written by Mike Roberts that ran in their September 2007 issue.

The link is here

You Can Run, But You Can’t Hide

Shaker Heights’ mayor’s angry letter about the magazine’s “Rating the Suburbs” issue speaks to larger concerns: suburban mayors’ fears of decline and their attempts to bring the region together.

Michael D. Roberts, Illustration by Chris Sharron

Shaker Heights Mayor Judy Rawson sent The Plain Dealer a curious letter about Cleveland Magazine this summer. It showed how concerned suburban mayors have become about their towns’ futures.

The letter dealt with the magazine’s June cover story, the annual ranking of suburbs, a popular feature that Cleveland Magazine has published since the early 1990s. Numerous other city magazines across the country publish similar pieces. A reader favorite and an advertising attraction, the annual package compares the sundry virtues of each suburb and ranks them using criteria such as schools, safety and increases in median home sale values.
Mayor Rawson’s letter said the magazine created a competition among Cleveland’s suburbs. She objected to pitting one community against another, because of the growing realization by suburban officials such as herself that a regional approach to the area’s problems is necessary.
Her letter is important, not for its criticism of the magazine, but because it is a cry for help ­— a haunting testimonial by a public official who deals every day with the widening erosion of our urban core and the changing nature of the place where we live. It comes at a time when many Northeast Ohioans are anxious about the future.
While officials such as County Commissioner Jimmy Dimora and Cleveland Mayor Frank Jackson refuse to address the region’s decline, Rawson’s criticism should strike a nerve with voters, since they’re the ones who have the right to complain: Government here, at all levels, is not working to give taxpayers a better future.
Many other suburban mayors share Rawson’s concern, including Pepper Pike’s Bruce Akers. In my lifetime, I’ve never heard a mayor of Pepper Pike express much interest in the city of Cleveland, let alone speak of the need to join with it to help face the future — until now.
This is not one of those tired East Side-West Side tales that has caused a mythical but palpable divide in the town. Mayor Martin Zanotti of Parma Heights and Mayor Deborah Sutherland of Bay Village, among others, have publicly expressed alarm over the order of things.
Cleveland’s suburbs have long been the jewels in the region. Law firms and corporations use their leafy neighborhoods, sprawling vistas, affordable mansions and superb school systems to recruit talent from more alluring places.
But in recent years, the first tier of suburbs adjoining the city of Cleveland has experienced blight, lost population and struggled with growing safety issues. The impact has been serious enough that they’ve formed the First Suburbs Consortium, the first such organization in the nation. The organization began with three suburbs in 1996 and will likely grow beyond its present membership of 17. The idea was to confront the blight and flight by changing public policies that govern redevelopment. For instance, the organization has championed special redevelopment loans at 3 percent under market lending rates and established a joint marketing program for the member cities’ development projects.
Ironically, Cleveland and its suburbs, which made their money from oil and the automobile a hundred years ago, paid a price for that prosperity. The highway system destroyed the traditional role of the city and introduced urban sprawl. Now the suburbs are feeling the brunt of the social change the automobile caused.
Suburbs such as Euclid, Parma and Maple Heights grew and flourished in the post-World War II economy. Many city dwellers then looked upon life in suburbs as an idyllic dream, a goal that symbolized an important social achievement, one of pride and modest prosperity.
Now, those same towns face a serious threat. One First Suburbs delegate told me that every time a new interstate interchange opens in the region, the organization’s members shudder. It means more flight to places such as Avon and Medina. In a single generation, we are witnessing an abandonment of the old suburbs and a relocation to new communities near freeway exits. Like much of our culture, communities are becoming disposable.
This summer, the Northeast Ohio Areawide Coordinating Agency was studying a proposal to create a new interchange on I-90 in Avon. If NOACA approves it, growth around it could double the suburb’s payroll tax receipts over the next 25 years — at the expense of places such as Lakewood, Rocky River and Westlake.
Traveling to the emerging communities, with their large homes, vast yards and good school systems, one cannot help but notice the contrast with life in the city and older suburbs. Since there are virtually no poor or disadvantaged living in the new communities, there is no need for expensive social services. People who can afford to move there have money, so the tax base is not only stable, but superlative.
If freeways hurt the inner ring, the cost of redevelopment in the older communities magnifies the problem. It is far more expensive to rebuild than to construct an entirely new town.
Those in the First Suburbs Consortium argue that governmental policies favor the development of new communities by giving them more favorable access to loans and other incentives. The consortium advocates equitable policies for all communities and stresses regionalism.
Ask 10 Greater Clevelanders what regionalism means, and you get 10 different answers. But it is evident that urban sprawl, wasteful and redundant government, failed economic development, crime and other problems that plague our region all point to the need for a change in a government structured for life a century ago. For example, it was only through a joint effort by the suburban group that the Cuyahoga County Juvenile Court finally computerized its record system to quickly access arrest warrants. Mayor Rawson’s letter is a warning that government as we know it is not working. It signaled the end of the idyllic suburban dream. It is a wake-up call, warning that decline and decay are not just urban diseases.