May 13–20, 1999

primary '99

Two-Way Street

Will the real John Street please step forward?

by Gwen Shaffer

A silver BMW pulls up to the Walnut Park Plaza apartments at 63rd and Walnut Streets at the edge of West Philadelphia. John Street is hunkered down on the passenger side of the car, a cell phone cemented to his ear. It is about 1:40 on a perfect spring afternoon, and the former City Council president is running surprisingly close to schedule.

"I gotta get out of the car," Street informs whoever is on the other end of the phone call. But by then, his words are barely audible over the chants of the throng gathered near the apartment building entrance.

A pensive Street emerges from the car and yanks on his suit jacket. When he finally turns to face his supporters, he is all smiles.

And no one can deny that Street has a good deal to grin about. Especially if his poll numbers truly reflect his popularity with Philadelphians. Street claims that his closest Democratic challenger, Marty Weinberg, trails him by more than 10 points. And a Keystone poll finds that John White Jr. is nipping at Weinberg's heels.

This particular afternoon, Street has come to West Philly to accept State Sen. Anthony Williams' thunderous endorsement (by supporting Street, the politician is bucking his venerable father, Hardy Williams, who supports Weinberg). Williams—flanked by dozens of students from Turner Middle School, some sporting T-shirts with larger-than-life images of Street—characterizes Street as a man who "tells the truth, not shades of truth." The audience cheers when he reminds Street fans that their man, who grew up on a farm without electricity or running water, is "from our stock."

As Williams stumps, an expressionless Street stands off to the side, observing. His hands stay locked behind his back, except when he raises the reading glasses hanging across his chest and perches them on his nose to read.

This aloof Street is transformed, however, when he steps up to the podium. He shakes his index finger at the room with each word. A sheen of sweat glistens on his brow.

The mayoral front-runner cautions his fans not to be surprised if they spy him lurking around their West Philly neighborhood at 6 o'clock some morning while they're getting ready for work or school. "I believe in being on the streets," he shouts.

Comments like that come as a shock to quite a few residents living in the North Philadelphia City Council district represented by Street for the past 19 years.

They are quick to point out that their community is still dominated by blight. Rather than take care of his constituents, many claim, the City Council president was cutting deals for Center City.

"The only time I ever saw John Street out here," recalls one North Philly resident, "was when he was going for a jog."

Is John Street the personable, jovial guy he presents during dog-and-pony shows like this one? Or is he the hot-tempered thug now being showcased in Weinberg's campaign ads?

The answer appears to be, well, both.

The gay community treats him like a pariah. City Council members have described him as a micromanager and a control freak. Ironically, Philadelphians who voted against his too liberal ideas in the '60s now refuse to support his too conservative views.

It might seem fitting to label Street a shill for the Philadelphia Chamber of Commerce—after all, he was willing to risk the civil rights of homeless residents by championing the "sidewalk behavior" ordinance, in exchange for campaign donations from Center City businesses. But then Street goes and co-chairs a task force with homeless advocate Sister Mary Scullion, promising that the new law will be enforced fairly, and that every penny pledged by the city for new shelters and social services will materialize.

(Scullion declined to comment on the record about her political battles and reconciliations with Street.)

It is tempting to write off Street as a homophobe for fighting against passage of a bill that would give committed gay couples who work for the city the same medical benefits as married couples. But then there's the fact that Street played a key role in the 1982 city legislation that added sexual minorities to the groups protected against discrimination in housing, accommodations and employment.

Regardless of whether a person agrees with his politics, it would be tough to deny that Street possesses more experience in Philadelphia government than any of his opponents.

This point was illustrated during a televised debate on April 9. Street trumped all four of his Democratic adversaries with his knowledge of local laws. Happy Fernandez, Dwight Evans, White and Weinberg all pointed out the pros and cons of changing the city charter in order to allow the mayor to hire more deputies. When Street's turn came around, he noted that the mayor already maintains the power to hire as many aides as he pleases. "Anyone who understands government knows that," Street chastised.

He has proven himself to be a fiscally responsible leader, making the tough decisions needed to get the city's ledger back in balance. You've probably heard Mayor Ed Rendell tell you that himself, during one of the ads he shot supporting Street as his successor. Street is one of the only candidates asking "How do you plan to pay for it?" when one of his opponents releases a new policy statement on issues including education reform, public safety and tax cuts.

If political campaigns are indeed horse races, Street came sprinting out of the gate. By the time he declared his candidacy, Street had already banked $1.7 million (petty cash compared to the $2.6 million Weinberg collected going into the race). When a Daily News poll first showed Marty Weinberg to be inching-in on Street's front-runner status, Street shrugged off the competition.

"It is reasonable to think anyone who spends $2 million on television ads is going to move up," he told reporters after a candidates' forum.

As support for Weinberg dips, it is not Street who appears to benefiting. Instead, White's numbers are creeping up.

When asked whether he viewed the now-infamous "shove ad" as containing racial overtones, the front-runner is, not surprisingly, diplomatic.

"People should know that when they put certain things in the media, they are likely to get a certain response from the community," he says. "I am not naive enough to think Weinberg didn't know what the impact of some of these things would be.… I don't think people want to go back to the times when this city was divided and people had no confidence in the leadership of this city. And we need to be very careful that we, as candidates, don't conduct ourselves in a way that drives us back to those days."

As the clock ticks down to the day Democrats slide the curtain around the election booth and pull the lever for their next mayor, the race is intensifying. Street says members of the press tail him from dawn till dusk.

"Everybody wants to know what time I got up this morning and what I ate for breakfast."

And still, who John Street is remains a mystery.

More certain, however, is the knowledge that, unless the mayoral race takes an unexpected and sudden bend, John Street is the man to beat for the Democratic nomination.