When Chicago aldermen take up the fight against terrorism, strange synergies can arise.
Take Ald. Burton Natarus (42nd), who appears to have combined a concern for terrorism and the security of the LaSalle Street financial district, which is in his ward, with a more narrowly focused interest in taking care of an old friend and campaign donor. The Tribune’s Dan Mihalopoulos recently chronicled Natarus’ multiple loyalties.
Shortly after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, the governing board of the Federal Reserve Bank in Washington told regional banks to beef up security. Officials here decided a short stretch of Quincy Street next door, between LaSalle and Wells Streets, was too vulnerable.
A truck loaded with explosives, like the one in Oklahoma City, could inflict even more damage because of the confined space and the higher concentration of people. Fed officials decided Quincy needed to be closed to vehicular traffic.
So they asked Natarus to get the City Council to close the street. On Oct. 3, 2001, the council agreed and barricades went up.
But then two first-floor tenants, Au Bon Pain sandwich shop and Chicago Clearing House, a firm that processes checks for other banks–and whose president at the time was Robert Fitzgerald, a longtime friend and contributor to Natarus’ campaigns–said the closing would hurt businesses. In particular, Chicago Clearing argued it had to have street-level access for unloading boxes of checks and other paper.
Au Bon Pain just said au revoir! and moved its sandwicherie elsewhere when the Fed bought out its lease.
Not Chicago Clearing, an outfit far more familiar with Chicago realpolitik. The firm asked Natarus to do something about the street closing and, as if to underscore the urgency of the matter, Fitzgerald made the first of three $1,500 contributions to Natarus’ campaign fund.
On July 10, 2002, about a month after the campaign gift, without public hearings and much to the surprise of the Fed, Natarus persuaded the City Council to reverse itself and reopen Quincy to cars and trucks.
Chicago Fed President Michael Moskow, still concerned about security, began negotiating with Fitzgerald to reclose the street Natarus had reopened. A deal was struck in which Chicago Clearing gave up the dock space–a space of lessening value because of electronic banking–and got its rent reduced by about $1.50 per square foot on the remaining Chicago Clearing space on the seventh floor of the Fed building, on a lease that runs for 11 years.
On Sept. 4, 2002, a month after that deal, the City Council–again at Natarus’ urging–closed Quincy once more. In fact, the city deeded the whole street to the Chicago Fed. And a month after that, Fitzgerald made another $1,500 contribution to Natarus’ campaign piggy bank.
The two constants in the saga of the closing, reopening and reclosing of Quincy–all in a period of a year–seem to be concerns about terrorism and Fitzgerald’s steady contributions to Natarus. In May 2002, October 2002 and January 2003, Fitzgerald wrote $1,500 checks to the alderman’s political fund.
Natarus says his decisions stemmed from a concern about terrorist attacks and had nothing to do with campaign contributions. A spokesman for the alderman added he was only refereeing a dispute in his ward.
In the end it all worked out for the best. Natarus got $4,500 in contributions. Chicago Clearing got a substantial break on the rent. And Chicago Fed officials feel considerably safer from a possible terrorist attack.
So there you have it–a fairy-tale ending to another messy story of Chicago clout.
