Attorney at Law: Gone Fishin'

Contents

Acknowledgements

Preface

Introduction

Prologue

Law and Disorder

Calling It Quits

Learning the Business

Betrayal

Cash Only

Four Half-Day Trips in a Day

Monster Fishing

A New Boat and a New Boss

The Window Cleaning Kid

Problems in Bimini

The Boss Man Joins the Club

The Sinking of the Sly Fox

Boat Owners’ Revolt

Captain Snow Job

Pray For Us

Finally, San Juan

Marlins, Marlins Everywhere

The Marlin Capital of the World

A Prayer That Worked

A Thousand Pounder

Fishing Fidel’s Waters

The Problem with Hurricanes

The One Eyed Marlin

What a Shame! What a Shame!

White Marlins Galore

The Rich and Not Too Famous

Traveling the Eighth Wonder of the World

Horrible Hugo

Lady Luck with the Ladies

Rest in Peace, Ted

For my daughters and grand children.

"Avid fishermen never give up hoping

to have their rods bent."

Capt. Arthur I. Trager

COVER PHOTOGRAPHS by RICHARD GIBSON

www.hiseasphotography.com

Author, Capt. Arthur I. Trager, shielding his eyes from saltwater spray in the cockpit of the sportfishing boat, Cool Runnings. He observes, while they back up to release a blue marlin during the 2006 Boy Scout Tournament off St. Thomas, USVI with angler Jordan McCullough and mates Doug Covin and Dano Gerretson.

Acknowledgements

Special thanks to my lifelong friend, Dr. Martin P. Marty Wolf, for taking time to edit this book and for encouraging me to write it.

Many thanks to my neighbors, Dr. David A. Shachat, Ed Eick, Jude Shriner and Robert Stewart all of whom encouraged me to keep writing.

Preface

I wrote this book as a result of my retirement to Sun City Hilton Head in South Carolina, where I came in contact with so many wonderful people. Living in this particular adult community, gave me the opportunity to associate with people of retirement age from all parts of the United States. Each person had a unique, different and refreshing story about what they did before retirement. When meeting a new neighbor, in a friendly but not intrusive manner, What did you do for a living before retiring? was the usual first question. From there the conversation usually took on an interesting life of its own with each person describing what business or profession they had been in or what type of work they had done before retiring. It seemed that whenever I was coaxed into revealing what I had done for a living, the reaction was, You ought to write a book. Over the years I discounted the many times I heard that response as merely being a polite and kind remark. More than a year ago, after absorbing this encouragement and with plenty of time on my hands, I made a decision. I hope you enjoy the book.

Introduction

The term billfish is an arbitrary angling term, used to describe a fish having …the upper jaw more or less prolonged into a spear or bill, which is fairly round in cross section and is covered with small prickles….* Billfish include the following: Atlantic Sailfish, Black Marlin, Blue Marlin, Longbill Spearfish, Pacific Sailfish, Shortbill Spearfish, Swordfish, Striped Marlin, and White Marlin. Billfish are found in tropical or subtropical waters around the world with the exception of black marlin and striped marlin that are only found in the Indo-Pacific oceans. The white marlin is found exclusively in the Atlantic Ocean.

Fishermen identify the different species by observing the shape of the dorsal fin, the pectoral fins, the tail and the general size of the fish.

* McClane’s New Standard Fishing Encyclopedia

Prologue

We ran five miles offshore of the El Morro Castle in San Juan, Puerto Rico after a Bimini start with an armada of one hundred ten sportfishing boats pushing their engine throttles to wide open. The bright morning sun heightened the beauty of the extraordinarily calm, deep blue ocean. As we slowed down to trolling speed, the only movement on the surface of the sea, was the remaining ripples of wakes from the vessels that had passed us, running to their fishing grounds, still further offshore. We had lowered our outriggers and barely got our fishing lines and teasers in the water when I noticed, from the bridge of the boat, a dark brown figure in the water behind the right flat line. Within seconds there appeared a large dorsal fin, like in the famous movie, Jaws, and then its bill, an elongated upper snout resembling a sword or spear started slashing left and right at the Chugger lure. I started stomping my foot on the deck to get their attention, and leaned over the railing screaming above the loud drumming noise of the engines below, There he is! There he is!

The three anglers and two mates in the cockpit below all looked up at me, with excitement in their eyes. I then pointed and screamed, On the right flat line, the flat line!

Before they could turn around and look to where I had been pointing, the blue marlin submerged so that they could not see its dorsal fin or its bill. At that moment, everyone was caught off-guard. The sudden and unanticipated marlin strike had us all electrified. It was not only the first day of fishing the tournament but also the first time we had the same anglers and crew onboard. It was Ted’s Chugger lure that the blue marlin had attacked and was attacking. Ted was one of the anglers and the owner of the 54-foot Bertrand, Parhelion, which we were fishing on. His daughter Wendy was the second angler and Brian Varga, the visiting and third angler. The three of them made up the USA Team 6 in the tournament.

Ted grabbed his rod from the rod holder in the covering board, holding the rod tip high in the air. The marlin was sixty-feet back and continued to follow close behind the lure as we continued trolling straight-ahead. Staying below the surface of the water made it difficult for those in the cockpit to get a glimpse of the fish. After about 10 seconds, which felt like ten minutes, the marlin lunged toward the lure, its dorsal fin and bill now coming out of the water with its pectoral fins lit up, pushing the water in front of it like a locomotive speeding through a large puddle of water. The marlin grabbed the lure in its mouth, turned its head and quickly started swimming away. Ted, with the rod tip still high in the air, set the hook by striking the fish with short back and forth strokes. I yelled to my mate, Huff & Puff, and the others, Get all the other lines in!

Everyone quickly retrieved the other fishing lines and teasers into the cockpit and stowed them out of the way. Yes, Ted was hooked up to a blue marlin and I radioed the Tournament’s Control Boat. Fishing line continued coming off the reel, as Ted fought to hold onto the bent rod and reel, while working his way over to the fighting chair. I had put the boat in neutral to make it easier for him. Then suddenly, the marlin surfaced and started jumping toward the boat. The marlin took one leap after another, shaking its head side-to-side, trying to dislodge the hook, which was stuck in the corner of its mouth.

Immediately, I put the loud engines into gear and applied throttle, moving the boat forward to help take up the slack in the line, while Ted frantically continued winding on the reel. Fear entered everyone’s mind that any slack would have allowed the blue marlin to spit the hook, but the line came tight again. Now everyone had seen the blue marlin, and the fight continued with everyone screaming and yelling, Wind Ted, wind.

More and more fishing line continued peeling off the reel. I guessed the weight of the marlin to be about 300 pounds and shouted my estimate to Ted, who then made the quick decision that the marlin would be released. Marlins being marlins, this particular marlin had other ideas and took off sounding in the deep waters of the Puerto Rican trench. Ted, while in the fighting chair, held on to the bent rod and could only watch hundreds of feet of fishing line peel off his reel. The rod tip was bent over the transom and downwards to its maximum with the marlin having gone down deep. Finally, the line coming off the reel slowed down and occasionally stopped. When the line stopped coming of the reel, Ted would turn the handle and retrieve some of the line. For the next forty minutes the marlin would take some line and Ted would get some back. It was a challenge of wills, between Ted and the marlin.

• • •

We were fishing the 1991 International Billfish Tournament at Club Nautico de San Juan, the world’s longest running big game tournament; 314 anglers, from 23 countries who had came from as far away as South Africa, the Ivory Coast and Switzerland. Traditionally, the tournament was a billfish kill tournament that included blue marlin, white marlin, sailfish, spearfish and swordfish; however blue marlin was the species that were mostly caught. After being weighed, regardless of size, one point per pound was credited to the angler’s score. The billfish were not killed in vain. They were kept in a freezer truck to be sold later and the proceeds divided among the local crews.

Conservation efforts had prevailed under the influence of Winthrop Paul Rockefeller, one of the founders of the Billfish Foundation, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) and the IGFA, International Game Fish Association. This year’s rules provided for a modified release format that included the option of tagging billfish.

Originally NOAA’s Cooperative Game Fish Tagging Program was a joint research effort by scientists and both recreational and commercial fishermen. It is designed to provide basic information on the movements, migratory habits and biology of game fish populations in the Atlantic Ocean, Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea. The Billfish Foundation, a not-for-profit organization created in 1986, expanded the research efforts of conserving and enhancing billfish populations around the world, with a newly designed tag in 1990.

NOAA provided a specially designed tag free of charge. The tag is a dart with a barb. The dart has a yellow colored plastic trail. On the trail are imprinted NOAA’s identification and a tag number. The tag is attached to the end of a specially designed pole or tag stick, usually eight feet long. The tag stick is then used to assist in inserting the tag into the back of a game fish, leaving the yellow trail conspicuous. After the tagging of a fish, participating fishermen fill in a similarly numbered, postage free postal card provided by NOAA, and mail the postal card to Washington, D. C. The written information provided on the postal card gives the date, species of fish, weight, location, name and address of the angler and captain. NOAA requests that all fishermen catching a fish, so tagged, forward the information as to the date, place of recovery, along with the removed tag to Washington, D.C. to obtain a five-dollar reward. NOAA then notifies the tagging angler and captain of the recovered information. The information is also published in NOAA’s annual newsletter.

An angler releasing a billfish, no matter what its size, whether tagged or not, would be credited with 300 points. Additional points per pound are awarded to the angler for a billfish that is boated weighing more than 300 pounds. Points would be deducted from the angler for killing a billfish that did not meet the 300-pound minimum. The Puerto Rican International Billfish Tournament has a reputation for producing large catches of blue marlin with a record 190 blue marlins being caught or released in only four days of fishing.

• • •

We just sat still in the water for the next forty minutes, gently rocking with the ripples of waves from boats fishing near us. The blue marlin stayed down in the deep, taking small amounts of fishing line. Ted kept cranking on the reel, getting back a little more line each time he cranked on the reel. The angle of the line coming off the rod tip was straight down all this time. Finally, we noticed the angle of the line coming off the rod’s tip was rising indicating the marlin might be coming up from the deep. Everyone’s eyes searched the surrounding ocean looking for where the marlin might show itself. Then suddenly, in the distance we could see the marlin jumping away from the boat at least half a dozen times. Ted turned his head slightly and yelled up to me, Let’s go get him! I’m ready!

Putting the engines in reverse I started backing down toward the marlin and Ted started cranking on the reel as fast as he could. Clouds of black smoke emanated from the engine’s exhausts, as we backed down as fast as possible, while not giving the marlin any slack line. Ted kept cranking feverishly on the reel, while the marlin stayed near the surface. As we got closer to the marlin, Huff & Puff anxiously put on his large canvas welder’s gloves, for he was to grab the leader as soon as the snap swivel hit the rod tip for the release. Victor Vic Starling, the second mate, prepared the tag stick with a NOAA tag. Wendy was turning her father’s fighting chair in the direction of the marlin, while everyone including Brian, looked intently in the direction of the marlin. The marlin continued taking one jump after another, and then crashing back into the sea. Ted had managed to retrieve all but 25 yards of line; then the marlin decided to submerge again and the line became taut.

The excitement took a breather. Vic temporarily put the butt of the tag stick into a spare rod holder on the tuna tower’s leg, and started turning Ted’s fighting chair to the side of boat, where the fishing line went straight down. I hollered to Ted, Push the drag control lever forward a little! Ted gently pushed the drag lever forward increasing the drag and then continued slowly winding on the reel, straining with each and every turn. With each turn small amounts of line were retrieved. The marlin seemed to be getting weaker; Ted was gaining line. The marlin was no longer able to pull any line off the reel. A few moments later, we were able to look over the side of the boat where we could see the marlin about thirty feet below the surface. The snap swivel was only ten feet below the water. Through the clear blue water, we could also see the Chugger lure that had slipped back on the leader to the snap swivel, and the hook in the side of the marlin’s mouth, as the marlin kept flapping its tail and swimming in the same direction of our slow drifting boat. It was still a standoff. Another ten minutes passed. With Ted’s straining at every turn, he was able to get a few more feet of line back onto the reel. Then I noticed the lure and snap swivel almost out of the water, and Huff & Puff reaching over the covering board, attempting to grab hold of the 20-foot leader as soon as the snap swivel came out of the water. I shouted to him, Don’t touch that leader.

Huff & Puff, while resting on the covering board, turned his head and looked up at me with a puzzled look. I shouted again, Don’t touch that leader! The swivel did not touch the rod tip!

Huff & Puff instantly realized that he had almost made a big mistake. Ted had made the decision to release the marlin; catches or releases only count after the fishing line’s snap swivel touches the rod tip. Only then could Huff & Puff grab the leader and Vic could attempt to tag the marlin. If he had touched the leader earlier, the marlin would have been disqualified. Unless you are fairly positive that a billfish weighs more than 300 pounds, it is to the angler’s advantage to release all billfish, rather than attempt to boat the fish. Releasing a blue marlin is much less demanding. Also time is of the essence with each release. Experience has shown that you could possibly release three marlins in the time it took to put one in the boat. The weakening of the blue marlin and Ted’s constant winding finally brought the snap swivel to the rod tip and I shouted, Release!

Huff & Puff then grabbed the 20-foot, 300-pound test monofilament leader, wrapping it around his right hand and then taking another wrap of the line with his left hand, pulling the marlin closer to the boat. The marlin began violently shaking its head and slapping its tail, stirring the ocean water and splashing everyone in the cockpit. Vic sneaked in between Huff & Puff and the covering board, kneeling on the deck and positioning him for placing the tag behind the blue marlin’s head as soon as Huff & Puff could pull the marlin within the reach of the eight-foot tag stick. Huff & Puff continued taking wraps on the leader, bringing the marlin still closer to the boat, pulling as hard as he could, while the marlin continued splashing water on everyone. In a split second Vic reached over the covering board toward the head of the marlin and stuck him with the end of the tag stick leaving the tag in the marlin’s back. Vic then quickly took his fishing pliers from his holster and cut the leader from behind Huff & Puff. Ted then rested his rod and reel in a rod holder and got out of the fighting chair to take a peek at his marlin. Huff & Puff held onto the leader while the marlin continued kicking and splashing. Huff & Puff took several more wraps working the marlin closer to the boat until he was able to grab the marlin’s bill. Then the marlin started shaking its head violently while slapping its tail against the stern throwing water everywhere. Huff & Puff hung onto the marlin’s bill for dear life, while Vic, lying on his belly on the covering board, reached over the side of the boat trying to remove the hook from the marlin’s mouth. The marlin continued shaking its head back and forth until Vic finally dislodged the hook and retrieved the lure. Huff & Puff then let go of the bill, releasing the fish, as we all watched the marlin swim away.

The aura of congratulations, joy and satisfaction did not last too long as we promptly went back to fishing for another blue marlin. Ted’s release was the second reported release of a blue marlin in the tournament that day. By noontime there had been reports of 12 blue marlins released. We continued trolling that afternoon without any bites or strikes until about 4:50 P.M., only ten minutes before the end of the fishing day. We were now trolling and working our way toward the El Morro Castle and the entrance to the San Juan harbor. We had just made a sharp turn to avoid running over a large patch of Sargasso weed. In the middle of this turn, Brian’s rod that was in a rod holder on the side of the fighting chair, suddenly bent over and the fishing line started peeling off. Out of the edge of the weed came a blue marlin jumping into the air and plowing back into the ocean. Then there was a second jump and another crash. Brian ran to his fishing rod, but before he could take his rod out of the rod holder, the rod snapped back to its original position; the hook had pulled out and the marlin was gone.

Brian’s lure was returned to the water and we continued trolling around the edge of the patch of Sargasso weed. Not more than five minutes elapsed when suddenly Ted’s rod was bent over and line was peeling off. A marlin jumped out of the ocean and back into the sea. Whether it was the same or a different marlin didn’t matter, but Ted was hooked up again, and the Control Boat was advised only a few minutes before quitting time. Just like the 300-pound marlin in the morning, this blue marlin started jumping and diving back into the ocean several times, but this blue marlin was a small rascal, as Ted sometimes referred to a small fish. It weighed less than 100 pounds and with 80-pound test line and twenty-two pounds of drag, Ted was easily able to get himself into the fighting chair and wound the snap swivel to the rod tip. Once again Huff & Puff grabbed the leader, as the marlin resisted by shaking its head, and slapping its tail splashing water into the cockpit. This time Huff & Puff easily grabbed the marlin’s bill after Vic had efficiently placed a tag in the marlin’s backside. Vic again retrieved Ted’s Chugger lure and removed the hook from the marlins upper bill. Day one of the fishing tournament was over with no blue marlins being boated. The boat, Parhelion, Ted and the International USA Team 6 was in the lead with two blue marlins tagged and released.

On the second day, the winds were blowing 15 to 20 miles per hour with gusts up to 30. Rough seas were four to six feet with lots of rain. It was very uncomfortable and most of the boats, including the Parhelion, called it quits after a couple of hours, yet 25 blue marlins were released, none boated. The local storm front passed that night, leaving a beautiful day of Fiesta Tipica at the elite Dorado Beach Hotel, where an unbelievable luncheon buffet of local specialties was served to everyone participating in the tournament.

The third day of fishing was as beautiful as the first day. Federico Cantu, a rotating and visiting angler from the Dominican Republic, joined us. He did not bring much luck with him. Once again Ted was the lucky one when he hooked up to his third blue marlin, another little rascal. It took less than five minutes to corral and release this marlin with a tag in its backside. At the end of the third day, one blue marlin was boated by another boat, weighing 318 pounds while 25 other blue marlins were released. On the last day of fishing, luck was with Ted again when his fourth marlin, what he called a little bugger, another one of his favorite expressions, jumped on his lure scoring for him another 300 points. Thirty-three blue marlins were released that day with the biggest surprise being the boating of a 541-pound blue marlin caught by Brian Varga, the rotating angler and team member, on the boat, Jaal. Brian had released a marlin earlier in the day, but this was his first boated blue marlin.

The awards ceremony belonged to Ted, the winning angler with 1200 points. He won the trophies for Best Individual Angler and Best Visiting Angler. Ted accepted the trophies for the Parhelion as Number One Boat, Number One Visiting Boat and Best Visiting Captain. Ted also won the Miami Rod & Reel Club Trophy for Most Marlins Tagged and Released. Brian, Ted and Wendy together won individual trophies as winners of the International Number One USA Team 6 with 2,041 points. Brian won the majestic Volvo Trophy for the Largest Blue Marlin.

• • •

1. Law and Disorder

In 1955, upon graduation from law school and being admitted to the N.Y. Bar, I started working for Nathan N. Shulman, an attorney in New Rochelle, N.Y. It wasn’t long thereafter that I had accumulated a host of clients and opened a law office in Mt. Vernon, N.Y., the city where I was born. I shared office space with Joseph R. Zibelli, Esq. Before leaving, Nathan gave me a bit of advice in dealing with clients and people in general that has stuck with me throughout, Individuals don’t change, situations change.

During the same year on August 7th I was married to Sondra Samalin and we eventually had three girls, Debra Beth, Bonnie Lee and Judith (Judy) Ellen. The marriage ended with a Mexican divorce on March 24, 1966.

When I was growing up, I vaguely remember a married couple who were neighbors and friends of my parents. They had two sons both of whom were younger than I. One day, a gentleman, who was the participating real estate broker in a sale that I was handling for a client, came to my office. His name was Reginald Cardio Jr. After a brief conversation, we both realized that he and his wife Maxine and their two sons were those former neighbors. The conversation continued with Reginald Jr. telling about his two sons Reginald III and Douglas. He mentioned that his older son, Reggie, had just been discharged from the U.S. military after a four-year enlistment and that he was working with him as a real estate salesman.

Over the ensuing years Reginald Jr. and Reggie went out of their way to refer some of their real estate customers as possible law clients. The three of us developed a close friendship. On one occasion, Reginald Jr. invited me to visit with him at his winter home in Pompano Beach, Florida. Reggie and sometimes Reginald Jr. and I would meet for lunch, attend football games, dine in restaurants and travel to New York City to attend Broadway shows.

In those years an attorney could not ethically advertise his profession on benches, newspapers or TV. The old fashioned method of networking was the source for new clients. It consisted of joining civic, fraternal and business organizations like the Rotary, Elks, Chamber of Commerce, Masons and political clubs. You joined these organizations in order to meet new people, to let them get to know you, to give them your business card and to hope that in the future, if they needed a lawyer, they would remember you.

You would handle pro bono criminal cases assigned to you by the Criminal Court judges. On occasions you would also be of counsel for attorneys, who were too busy to handle less important matters for their clients.

Part of my networking included my becoming active in one of the local political parties. At first I assumed the responsibility of being the secretary to the organization. Later my participation in that political organization opened the door for me to be appointed to serve as the Civil Defense Director for the City of Mt. Vernon. A year later I was appointed an Assistant Corporation Counsel for the city. In July 1966, after resigning as an Assistant Corporation Counsel, I was appointed Director of the Mt. Vernon Urban Renewal Agency.

Seymour Chotiner, a colleague and friend also maintained law offices in the same building where I had my office. In addition to being an attorney, Seymour owned and operated an insurance agency. When I first started to practice law, he graciously turned over to me many legal cases that he was too busy to handle. By coincidence Seymour’s family owned a drive-in motel in Pompano Beach, Florida near the beach and located not far from the home of Reginald Jr. and his wife Maxine.

In November 1967, Seymour mentioned that they had torn down the drive-in motel, bought some additional land and had just about completed a new nine-story hotel and marina. The new Sands Harbor Hotel and Marina was located on the Intracoastal Waterway at Atlantic Boulevard in Pompano Beach. The Grand Opening was scheduled to take place the week before Christmas. Seymour invited me to stay at the hotel for Christmas and planned to mix a little work with pleasure by having me help to unload, and place in each of the hotel rooms, brand new television sets from a tractor-trailer that was parked in the parking lot. I was happy to have made the trip and to have helped Seymour, in a small way, prepare the new hotel for the opening.

There was still plenty of time for us to go fishing in the Atlantic Ocean. I couldn’t get over how fantastic the fishing was. Over the next several days we must have caught at least six sailfish, all released, and a dozen dolphins (Mahi-Mahi) along with two-dozen kingfish. While there, I met Reginald Jr., his wife Maxine and numerous other residents from Mt. Vernon all of whom had winter homes in Pompano Beach. As I drove around Pompano, I noticed many new condominium construction sites. I found that, comparatively speaking, the prices for a two bedroom, two-bath condominium were extraordinarily inexpensive. The price for a condominium was so inviting that I decided to establish some Florida roots by buying one. I put a down payment on a condominium a half-mile from the beach and not far from Seymour’s new hotel. It was also not far from the Hillsboro Inlet where the charter fishing boats were docked.

My motivation to buy the condominium ran much deeper than merely establishing some Florida roots. I had been practicing law for more than a dozen years and for the past eighteen months, I was feeling uncomfortable about going back to practicing law full time. I no longer seemed to enjoy the challenges of being an attorney. Perhaps it was my tendency of personal involvement by getting too emotionally involved in the cases that I handled. There were nights I would stay up late thinking about those cases. I was unable to sleep. Then again maybe it was simply the adversarial nature of the profession. I was not really sure why; all I knew was that I no longer enjoyed practicing law as I once did.

While attending law school, professors always emphasized the need for lawyers to be advocates but at the same time do no harm to their client. They taught that we should not be litigious, but to negotiate and settle disputes. I found out that in the real world that was a fantasy.

It was disappointing that simple contracts relating to the buying and selling of a home became major events. Exaggeration of injuries in negligence cases by individuals, lawyers and doctors bothered me. The only legal justification for a divorce in the State of New York was the act of adultery. In many of those cases the parties were forced to commit perjury by setting up adulterous scenarios showing inclination and opportunity. They used paid private detectives who would overstate the facts beyond the truth. Generally, most of the time going to court was unproductive and a waste of valuable time.

Too many cases were held before a shortage of Judges who were unable to handle them in an efficient manner. Attorneys and clients would stand around for hours in courthouses waiting to have their cases heard, only to have them adjourned or continued.

When I returned to Mt. Vernon, I started envisioning the possibility of moving to Pompano Beach permanently. Thoughts entered my mind of giving up the practice of law and finding something else to do. I had time to fantasize; it would be another year before the condominium would be completed, and I still had my commitment to the Urban Renewal Agency. I had time to weigh my options.

As the city’s Urban Renewal Director, I served at the pleasure of the then Mayor Joseph P. Vaccarella. The Mayor’s third term was coming to an end on December 31, 1968. He had not yet decided if he would run for a fourth term. In either event I considered my directorship would only last for another year or so.

The Urban Renewal Director, whom I replaced, was a typical bureaucrat through and through. He had been the Director for more than four years; he had an ornate office in a former bank building that the Urban Renewal Agency had taken over. He and his staff of a dozen employees seemed to me to be an unmotivated bunch.

It was common knowledge that the city’s Midtown Urban Renewal Project had suffered numerous delays during this four-year period. The city’s Common Council, the local legislative branch of government, on May 1, 1962, had approved the project. Outside of the Common Council and the then Director of Urban Renewal, no one seemed to know the justification for the delays. In the meantime it seemed to be a place where bureaucrats had found a home.

The Mayor was, ex officio, a member of the Urban Renewal Agency, but he was not involved in every day decisions or the hiring, which was done by the Director. There had been a clear lack of communication and transparency between