“I’m not supporting someone [just] because of the color of their skin,” Greg Morehead called up to the second-floor window on Admiral Street after introducing yet another neighbor to “my friend Justin.”
“We don’t do that,” agreed the woman on the second floor. Then she gave Morehead’s “friend” all the time he wanted to make his pitch.
That “friend” accompanying Morehead on a stroll through the Dixwell neighborhood was Justin Elicker, one of seven Democrats vying to succeed retiring two-decade incumbent Mayor John DeStefano.
Five of those Democratic mayoral candidates are African-American. (So are Morehead, a former alderman, and the woman on the second floor.) Elicker, a third-term alderman who grew up in New Canaan, is white. His base is in the largely white East Rock neighborhood, where he is a second-term alderman.
He probably won’t win the majority of the black vote. But he probably can’t win the Sept. 10 Democratic primary or the general election — in which he plans to run whether or not he wins the primary — without getting some black votes. Elicker picked up some black supporters early in his candidacy. He has spent plenty of time in neighborhoods like Dixwell, the historic heart of New Haven’s black community, since announcing his candidacy, making the pitch for electing a mayor who brings a fresh, honest approach to government.
On Sunday, dressed in a pinstriped suit and a “Just Elicker” button, he spent hours in Dixwell.
Paul Bass photo
He started the day with a prize speaking spot — at 1,100-member Varick AME Zion Church on Dixwell Avenue, one of the oldest as well as current among the faster-growing and more politically potent houses of worship in the neighborhood. The church holds three packed services on Sunday morning. Every last seat — all 400 of them — was filled, including in the balcony. Elicker sat in the front pew between his wife Natalie Elicker and campaign supporter Semi Semi-Dikoko for the full rollicking two-hour-plus service.
Before delivering his own sermon, Pastor Eldren Morrison introduced Elicker to the crowd as a “humble man of ideas.”
Elicker than got two minutes to make his pitch. (Click on the play arrow at the top of the story to view a snippet.) Appearing loose, he burst into momentary song — echoing the “Get on Board!” refrain sung by a woman moments before. The church erupted in applause. Then Elicker spoke of the need for New Haven to build on the “strong foundation” of its downtown by strengthening the “branches” — corridors like State Street, Grand Avenue, Whalley Avenue, Dixwell Avenue. “We need to focus on gathering our community together and working together — not just expecting government to do, but community and government to do together,” he said. He praised the church for taking initiative with its current efforts to launch a charter school.
Elicker lingered after the service to schmooze with congregants …
… then regrouped with a half-dozen campaign supporters in the Dixwell Plaza parking lot. They prepared to break into teams to knock on doors on surrounding streets. Campaign manager Kyle Buda offered a few tips before sending them on their ways.
Elicker paired off with Morehead, who represented the neighborhood on the Board of Aldermen before losing his seat two years ago to a candidate backed by Yale’s unions. (The unions, a crucial vote-pulling force, are not expected to back Elicker in the mayoral race.) Hobbling gamely on crutches in the wake of recent foot surgery, Morehead ushered Elicker up Admiral Street, where Morehead seemed to know everyone, including Valentine Taylor, a Jamaican-born homeowner who runs a small construction company. “He’s going to complain about his sidewalks,” Morehead predicted before Taylor came to the door.
Sure enough, after a warm handshake with Morehead, Taylor spoke of the years he has spent sending photos to officials about the sidewalk, about the woman in the wheelchair who has to wheel into the street to avoid it, about how the city has never come to fix it. Elicker didn’t promise to fix it. He promised to be up front about fixing sidewalks. “The bottom line is, the city doesn’t have a lot of resources. But at a minimum you should know what number you are on the list to know when your sidewalk’s being fixed. You should be able to call the city” and hear “you’re number 642” on the list so you know what to expect, Elicker argued. He also said who your alderman is shouldn’t determine whether your sidewalk gets fixed. (Click here to read about a new sidewalk-repair system the city has instituted.)
Taylor didn’t just complain. He spoke of how his neighborhood has prospered under Mayor John DeStefano thanks to renovation of blighted buildings and construction of new schools. (He did complain that mostly white contractors and workers do that work.) “The present mayor, he’s not the best to look at in the morning — but he cleaned up the neighborhood,” Taylor said. “Seems like the guy that [is] not so handsome does a good job. So you’re on my good side!” That produced some chuckles. In the end, Taylor did promise to give Elicker serious consideration in the primary.
So did neighbor David Waters, mostly, it seemed, out of deference to his pal Morehead, after a quick chat.
Lindsey Ruminski up the block spent more time hearing out Elicker. At first she didn’t want to come downstairs; she sat by her second-story window while Elicker and Morehead made the pitch from the front yard, including Morehead’s pitch not to consider a candidate’s race. Eventually Ruminski, who’s active on the Wexler-Grant School parent-teacher committee and runs a Christian youth education program in her basement, came downstairs to say her peace. She called behavior “off the hook” in the schools; she wants not just the kids, but the teachers, to dress better. She blasted “Parent University” for focusing on job-training for parents rather than basic academic skills they can use to help tutor their children. She called the school system’s new Singapore Math curriculum “ridiculous” because the parents don’t know how to help their children learn it. She said she wants a mayor who will improve the schools, period. “We built buildings. But we didn’t do anything for education,” she complained.
Elicker listened sympathetically. He spoke of his support for a proposal to amend the city charter and create a hybrid (part-elected, part-appointed) Board of Education. “You’ll get to vote on it” in a November referendum.“You can count on me [for support] as long as everything is [as you] say it is,” Ruminski told the candidate.
Ruminski’s neighbor Gina Phillips is an “influential” — a former ward Democratic co-chair who can influence other people how to vote. Elicker had met her previously; she will support him because he’s the only one who has come to her door, and because he has a family (a wife), she said when he reappeared Sunday.
Phillips’ number-one request for the next mayor: Stop crime.
“I pay taxes here. I feel unsafe,” she said.
“Ask: Will I walk on the [one-block-away Farmington] Trail by myself? No. Ask me: Will I walk up the street to the corner store? No. It’s really that bad. … I can’t walk up the street with my grandchildren!
“We used to have a community. Now we have a ‘hood.’”
Elicker told her Chief Dean Esserman has been bringing back walking cops and community policing in general. He urged her to encourage young men she knows to apply for some of the new job openings in the department. (She responded that her nephew is serving time for murder.) In response to her request for more youth activities, Elicker said he can’t promise to build new community centers in every neighborhood. Rather, he said, the city has lots of beautiful new schools; he’d like them to house more after-school youth programs.
Greg Morehead added a pitch.
“Tell people,” he urged Phillips, “not to vote for people on the color of their skin. You know how people do.”
Phillips said her neighbors listen to her. She promised to tell them.