The Scandal of Reform: The Grand Failures of New York's Political Crusaders and the Death of Nonpartisanship

10. Bossism and Ballot Access

142 10 Bossism and Ballot Access “In the old days, insurgents got their legs broken by plug-uglies, or lost ferociously at the polls at the hands of repeaters. Today, the world being less simple, you go before a winking judge to get thrown off the ballot on a technicality and end up bankrupted from the court costs. The plug-uglies have law degrees.” Brooklyn writer Christopher Ketcham,  On a Friday evening in September , the regulars were gathering for their monthly meeting at an old three-story house on Putnam Avenue, just north of the Queens–Brooklyn border. The sign above the front door read “Ridgewood Democratic Club.” Hearing my knock, a man scurried out from around the corner of the building. “You gotta come through the side door,” he said. Following him, I entered into the middle of a long room, its walls papered with scores of campaign posters placed side to side and top to bottom : Green, Ferrer, Dinkins, Hevesi, Holtzman, Koch, Cuomo, Ferraro, Beame, Kennedy, and a dozen other names—Democrats, memories, most of them fading. Yet these party regulars were the young ones. The old ghosts, the ones who remembered the club’s founding in  and its move to the current building in , hovered by the front door foyer where I had first tried to enter. There, at the foot of a large wooden staircase, brown tiles spelled out “Ridgewood Democratic Club.” The club’s unofficial historian offered me a tour, and we ascended the stairs to the landing, where a cracked but still striking stained-glass window featured an interlocking “RDC” set across a five-pointed star—the Star of Epiphany and the symbol of the Democratic party. Upon reaching the second floor, we entered an office where a generation of local assemblymen had once worked. The old desk was still there, along with books that recorded the names of those who had received loaves and turkeys on holidays, small miracles performed for the party faithful. On the wall beside the desk was a buzzer, once pressed by assemblymen to signal a thirst to the barman two rooms down. Not quite the power to turn water into wine, but not too far off, either. The buzzer had been out of service for many years. So, too, the bar, though it still stood, its beer taps and poker chips waiting to be dusted off and pressed into public service. The bar was short, but long enough for a district leader to discuss strategy with a few block captains, and it opened onto a room big enough for a victory party or a wake. There used to be a television—first in the neighborhood. It was long gone, along with the slate pool table, sold to pay for a new roof. The caretaker who lived on the third floor, gone, some thirty years earlier. The members who had once numbered nearly ,, gone, down to about one hundred, most getting on in years. On the night of my visit, there were perhaps two dozen club members present, a mix of concerned citizens, aspiring politicos, community activists, and gadflies, all courteous and welcoming, as was the club’s leader, assembly member Cathy Nolan. They gathered, as always, in the long room downstairs. No kids. No cards. No music. No beer. Just coffee and doughnuts, and more than enough for seconds, thank you very much. The meeting turned to a discussion of nonpartisan elections, and brows began to furrow. Nonpartisan elections? You mean a Republican mayor’s plan to take away our nominations, our identity, our future—haven’t we lost enough? It was a fair question. Clubhouse Closings Neighborhood political clubs in New York City proliferated in the years following the election of , when Henry George and the United Labor party demonstrated the effectiveness of divorcing political organizing from the saloon. A survey conducted between  and  identified more than , clubs dotting the city’s political landscape. By the mid-s, fewer than three hundred remained. Today the figure stands closer to one hundred. Although many clubs are still active, their golden era is long past. “Since the ’s,” explained Norman Adler, a veteran of city politics who was co-author of a  book called Political Clubs in New York, “the clubs have been in serious decline. They have stopped providing functions . District leaders used to select candidates, and so you had to go BOSSISM AND BALLOT ACCESS 143 [52.14.8.34] Project MUSE (2024...