News

Joe Cimperman hopes to tear down his former hero, Dennis Kucinich

Continued from page 2

Cimperman's long-shot victory impressed many at City Hall — including himself. He was cocky, eager to outwork his complacent colleagues and make a name for himself. But there was another young councilman whose enterprise mirrored his own.

Zack Reed was a flashy young turk from Mount Pleasant. Both clearly believed their ceilings were beyond City Council. And, in a body known for lassitude, both were dead set on being the lone beacon of accomplishment.

They fought over everything, be it downtown parking meters or the placement of homeless shelters. "It was just two young guys with big egos, jostling for attention," says Cimperman.

"It wasn't a rivalry," adds Reed. "It was an all-out rift."

But it also meant that despite their lofty goals, neither was getting much done.

Cimperman uses the tale to illustrate his evolution. "It took about five years for me to realize that you have to work with other people."

It's a theme he commonly employs on the campaign trail. If there's a knock against Kucinich, it's that he picks a lot of fights but seldom wins. This is Cimperman's way of saying that he too will fight the good fight. It's just that at the end of the day, he wants something to show for it.

He routinely refers to his battle with Wal-Mart as exemplary of how he's learned to make things happen — even when he loses.

In 2005, Cimperman introduced an ordinance that would effectively bar the superstore within city limits. It was a popular move — at least among those who sway Democratic elections. Union leaders worried that Wal-Mart's cut-rate prices would kill off the city's organized groceries.

But developers of Steelyard Commons wanted the store to anchor their $100 million project. Cimperman soon learned that when you take on big money, your allies disappear quickly. Mayor Jane Campbell reversed her position, and the biggest fight of the councilman's career was instantly lost.

In his eyes, however, defeat would transform into his greatest coup.

"I could have sulked and said, 'To hell with them all,'" he says. Instead, he helped develop a tax plan that will raise millions to extend the Towpath Trail downtown.

These days, he brings up Wal-Mart in every speech, tweaking the angle depending on his audience. At a community meeting in Tremont, the story's about taking on corporate giants. At the corporate lawyer's house, it's about his ability to compromise with business. In every instance, he emphasizes the good relationships he maintains with foes after the battle, because it shows him as levelheaded, forgiving — the anti-Kucinich.

But Cimperman's found it difficult to straddle that line in other fights. His well-publicized crusades against nightclubs may have made him a sweetheart to neighbors. But in the view of those he's targeted, he's little more than a grandstander and a race-baiter.

The case of West Sixth Street's Spy Bar is perhaps his most polarizing fray. After a Fourth of July shooting in a nearby parking lot, people on the street were quick to finger Spy as a chronic source of violence. Cimperman railed against the club before news cameras and made it his quest to get the place shut down, though the shooter was never actually tied to the club.

But underneath the fight was the thinly veiled issue of race. Spy brought a black clientele to the street. Other club owners saw it as a root of increasing hostility that would drive suburban customers away. Cimperman may have been taking up a popular cause, but that cause seemed in part to play on race.

"My clients are willing to take the councilman at his word, that he's simply responding to complaints from his constituents," says Spy's lawyer, Subodh Chandra. But he adds that Cimperman "regrettably permitted himself to be used by people who are uncomfortable with people who look different than themselves."

Spy co-owner Raj Singh doesn't see a councilman wedded to levelheaded forgiveness. He sees a politician who was willing to ruin a business for his own gain. "He's never stepped foot in the bar," says Singh. "He does not know the nature of our clientele. They don't like black people in the neighborhood, and he just wants to get publicity."

Cimperman shouldn't even have a shot in this race. To attend a Kucinich appearance in the district is to understand why the congressman never worried about the safety of his seat. A speech at a Lutheran church takes on the air of a prayer meeting, with Kucinich playing the role of miracle worker who's stared down powerful evils. He speaks slowly and simply, taking the time to gaze at each person in the audience with watery eyes.

"I'm the only one in Washington that's fighting for you," he tells the congregation. "I always take you with me, and I never forget: The 10th District seat isn't mine. It's yours."

His supporters, yellow "Dennis!" stickers plastered over their hearts, watch him with eyes wide, heads nodding. During the question-and-answer session afterward, there are no questions — only testimonials of gratitude.

"I want to thank you for writing your beautiful book," says one woman, referring to Kucinich's recent memoir. She spent a weekend driving to every address he listed as a childhood residence.

The unions, so important on the West Side, are also firmly in Kucinich's clutches. "We certainly consider Joe Cimperman a very good friend," says Harriet Applegate, executive director of the North Shore AFL-CIO. "But it isn't about Joe for us; it's about Dennis. Our support for him is steadfast, reliable, and unchanging. You could be Jesus Christ, and we wouldn't endorse you over Dennis."

Yet outside the unswayable core, Kucinich has done his best to alienate lay Democrats. His two presidential bids seemed like the antics of a kid brother who's constantly trying to play with the older boys. Despite three years of nonstop campaigning, he rarely scored more than 1 percent in the primaries.

He became a go-to punch line on the talk-show circuit. The nation's jester-in-chief, Daily Show host Jon Stewart, seemed to sum up America's reaction when he called Kucinich a "creepy elf."

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
Next Page »