Under an Illinois House proposal, citizens would be able to walk into a mall and most restaurants with a concealed, loaded handgun — unless the business “clearly” posted a sign at every entrance saying one couldn’t.
But concealed weapons would be banned from bars, casinos, amusement parks, universities and stadiums, among other sites, under the bill. Before walking into one of these businesses, the guns would have to be locked in a vehicle.
Despite the fact that a concealed-carry proposal would have wide-ranging effects on businesses, most trade associations in the state have declared themselves neutral to the idea. On Tuesday, Gov. Pat Quinn took a stand, vowing to veto any concealed-carry legislation that reached his desk. Despite that, hours later a House committee forwarded the measure on to the full chamber on a 12-1 vote.
The bill would permit people who meet a series of qualifications and are at least 21 years old to obtain a license to carry a concealed weapon.
Chicagoland Chamber of Commerce President Gerald Roper wrote in an email Wednesday that his board had “not taken a position” on the legislation.
Daniel Clausner, executive director of the Illinois Licensed Beverage Association, and Thomas Swoik, executive director of the Illinois Casino Gaming Association, both said they supported exemptions for their industries but hadn’t requested them.
But as to the right to carry a concealed weapon anywhere that didn’t sell liquor, Clausner said his association didn’t “have an opinion on that.”
The powerful Illinois Retail Merchants Association and Illinois Chamber of Commerce also are neutral, after the chief sponsor, Rep. Brandon Phelps, D-Harrisburg, changed the legislation to address their concerns.
“Everything in the bill we did not like has been removed,” Doug Whitley, president of the Illinois Chamber of Commerce, wrote in an email.
Rob Karr, senior vice president of the merchants association, explained that a previous version left businesses open to lawsuits.
“Let’s say someone went into a convenience store that said you can’t conceal/carry,” Karr said. “So they left the weapon in their car and there was a holdup and they were injured. The business could be held civilly liable. The sponsors and proponents agreed to remove that.”
Illinois and Wisconsin are the only states without some kind of concealed-carry law. And after making dozens of calls, I found only one business association, the Illinois Restaurant Association, that openly opposed the legislation.
“Think about this. If this bill passes, you can’t smoke in a restaurant, but you can bring in a loaded gun,” said Sheila O’Grady, executive director of the restaurant group. “It’s outrageous. It’s ridiculous is what it is.”
Mark Walsh, of the Illinois Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence, said that the bill’s proponents are small in number but so vocal that he guessed they have cowed business groups.
“The proponents really make the phone calls and make things known,” Walsh said. “And in the past, the (National Rifle Association) has done well at boycotting businesses that are against their legislation. But I haven’t gotten much feedback from any (business groups) as to why they’re silent.”
Business leaders should take note that after Ohio enacted a concealed-carry law in 2004, the Dayton Area Chamber of Commerce received more than 150 phone calls in 30 days from business owners seeking advice on how to the cope with the law, according to the Dayton Daily News.
“Businesses are calling about liability issues, insurance, whether they can be sued, should they allow employees to carry guns but prevent customers from carrying them, and so on,” Bryan Bucklew, the chamber’s then-vice president of public policy, told the newspaper.
According to Bucklew, 98 percent of the calls involved businesses asking how they could prevent guns on their property.
Smurfit-Stone’s albatross
Smurfit-Stone Container Corp.’s debt was so bad an analyst once described it as an “albatross” hanging over the company, one that CEO Patrick Moore saw as his “sole purpose” to remove during the company’s 17-month bankruptcy.
But Moore said at a recent meeting of the Turnaround Management Association in Chicago that he had to fight “tooth and nail” to achieve it. Some unsecured creditors, who received about 96 percent of the company in exchange for canceling about $3 billion in debt, wanted to “create a little more leverage” to reap larger returns after the company emerged from bankruptcy in June, he said.
“I can’t tell you how many meetings I had where I said, ‘We are not going to re-lever this company,'” Moore said. In a later interview, he said he worried that the company would have to file for bankruptcy a second time if he backed down on the issue.
“Going through (bankruptcy) once for me was plenty, thank you,” he said.
Smurfit’s debt is now less than $700 million, down from $4.1 billion prior to bankruptcy. That and equally dramatic changes in the composition of and rules governing Smurfit’s board attracted Rock-Tenn, a Georgia based competitor, which plans to buy the company for $3.5 billion.
A vote by Smurfit-Stone shareholders, which would seal the sale, is scheduled for May 27. But a group of hedge funds, which collectively own about 9 percent of the company’s common stock, say the offer is too cheap. Another shareholder has sued the company for similar reasons.
Moore, who joined the company in 1987 and will retire once the merger is complete, declined to comment on the deal because of the lawsuit.
But he said the company had no other choice than bankruptcy. Year-over-year sales in the fourth quarter of 2008 had fallen 13 percent, as Moore said the company drew down its line of credit with its bank. He also worried that a plan to refinance the company’s debt would fail, given that the fundraising had been scheduled to begin soon after the collapse of Lehman Brothers.
But one of the most difficult things for him was to not view the bankruptcy as “a personal failure.”
“CEOs are not known as terribly humble people,” he said. “But it was a humbling experience.”
Melissa Harris, who was jarred by dozens of “no handgun” signs pasted on storefronts in Tucson, Ariz., during a visit there in late December, can be reached at mmharris@tribune.com or 312-222-4582. Twitter @ChiConfidential.
