David Panagore keeps on his desk a small plastic Lisa Simpson doll that waves a placard reading "Save Springfield." It comes in handy in his daily work; in the midst of a conversation about rebuilding the city's economy, a grinning Panagore pauses to press a button on the doll, which bleats, "We have to save Springfield!"
Panagore has been in the business of "saving" Springfield for the last four years, and it's to his credit that he's kept his sense of humor about the job. In recent years, things have been pretty bleak around the city, which had teetered on the edge of financial collapse before being revived with what many consider bitter medicine: the imposition, by the state Legislature, of a Finance Control Board to oversee city finances, including a $32 million no-interest state loan to plug the immediate budget gaps.
The Control Board's fans credit it with depoliticizing decision-making in City Hall and introducing a long-overdue strictness to the handling of the city coffers. Other residents appreciate the fiscal advances made but bristle that so much local control was handed over to the board. Then there are those have nothing good to say about the board, considering its handling of municipal contracts overly harsh and anti-union; questioning its spending decisions, including hiring high-paid staff and consultants; and positively roiling at the creation of an annual fee for trash pickup, once a "free" service that was funded by taxes.
Count among the critics Robert Forrant, a UMass Lowell professor who argues in the book The Future of Work in Massachusetts that the Control Board has been too focused on containing personnel costs, at the expense of the more crucial issue of job creation (see main story). The board's voice was absent from Forrant's compelling essay, so I decided to seek out a response from City Hall.
Panagore was the obvious choice. He initially came to the city, in 2004, as the board's deputy executive director, second in command behind the lightning-rod figure of Phil Puccia. In 2006, Panagore moved to the Planning Department, where he is the city's chief development officer. (His resume also includes six years working for the city of Chelsea, including time as chief legal counsel. At the time, that community was trying to emerge from its own financial crisis, which had landed it in receivership.)
I sent Panagore a copy of Forrant's essay, and when we met in his office a couple of weeks later to talk about it—and about the larger challenge of improving Springfield's economic fortunes—he had marked it with notes. Panagore found the essay intriguing, and he agreed with much of what Forrant had to say, such as his history of Springfield's abandonment by industry.
But Panagore did object to a basic premise of Forrant's essay: that the Control Board had "failed to address & the steady decline of well-paying work" in the city. In fact, Panagore says, that was not part of the board's original charge.
"The interesting question on the table is, what is, or was, the purpose of the Control Board?" Panagore asks. According to the legislation that created the board, its charge was to "initiate and assure the implementation of appropriate measures to secure the financial stability of the city"—or, in Panagore's words, "to stem the bleeding and to do the immediate work" of steadying the city finances.
Panagore understands the resistance felt by residents who balked at "outsiders" taking such sweeping control of Springfield's government. "No place will welcome disbanding elected offices and replacing them with unelected [officials]," he says. Panagore had seen a similar reaction in Chelsea, where the state-imposed remedy—receivership—was even more extreme, leaving no place for local voices. In contrast, the Control Board includes, by law, two elected city officials, the mayor and City Council president. While they're still outnumbered by three gubernatorial appointees, their voices can have a strong influence on the board, Panagore says.
The board came into Springfield conscious of the division of power between them and local officials, thinking, Panagore says, "If we concentrate on the budget, this will give the city the opportunity to focus on economic development." It's up to the elected officials to set the city's long-term course, he adds. "It's not for folks from out of town to tell them how to lead their lives."
Whatever your perspective on its agenda or tactics, it's hard to deny that the Control Board has achieved significant, quantifiable goals: The city's budget is balanced, there are financial reserves in place, its bond rating is slowly climbing. With the immediate crises under control, in 2006 the board took a change in direction, with a new focus on economic development, signaled by the appointment of Panagore to his new job in planning.
Panagore agrees with Forrant's assessment that Springfield's challenges have been long in the making, and are connected to a larger trend of deindustrialization in the region. But he doesn't agree that city officials simply turned their backs on the problems. "It's a tough ship to turn," Panagore says. "You've got 30 years' worth of problems, but in two years someone didn't snap their fingers and fix it."
At the top of the list of challenges: a shortage of adequately prepared workers. "There's a massive split between skills sets and the jobs available," says Panagore. Right now, for instance, the metal manufacturing and nursing fields are struggling with vacancies. The Hampden County Regional Employment Board has been putting together a workforce development plan for the city, and the focus is on lifelong training and education, from pre-kindergarten through ongoing skills training to help workers adapt to changes in the economy. There's also a need for more quality childcare programs, which would allow more parents to work and would also create new jobs, Panagore says.
The overarching question, of course, is where the city will find the resources to do all it needs to do, from training workers to fixing aging infrastructure. There are signs of hope, like Gov. Deval Patrick's recent announcement of more than $2 million in state aid, including a grant for improvements in the Armory Street area, the creation of an "economic growth district" along Main and State streets, and worker-training grants for three local businesses.
Springfield also needs to build a successful development track record to draw skittish investors back to the city. What does Panagore consider the two or three most crucial projects for the city? "How about the top 16?" he asks with a laugh.
But he narrows it to two: the South End, where the decrepit Hollywood section and the site of the former Gemini factory are reminders of years of neglect; and 31 Elm Street, the handsome but largely dormant block opposite City Hall, a site that could draw new retail and revivify downtown "so we can prove to the market that downtown living can work for Springfield," Panagore says.
Finding the money isn't the only challenge. Springfield also needs to find something less tangible but crucial: a set of priorities and plans that everyone can more or less agree on. "One of the toughest things ever to do is build consensus," Panagore says.
And it can take a long time to get there. While Chelsea was under receivership for four years, Panagore says, it took more like seven years for that city to really turn itself around, as new political structures settled into place and new habits of governing were formed.
For Springfield, it will also mean changing the way its residents, and its neighbors throughout the Valley, view the city. "People don't look at Springfield as a place of opportunity—they look at it as a place of worry," the site of the crime and corruption reported on the evening news, Panagore says. People from the upper Valley steer clear of the city ("Going through the Holyoke Range is like going through the Cumberland Gap," Panagore quips); people from within the city often get bogged down in the negatives. Both groups, he says, need to start seeing Springfield in a positive light.
There's plenty the city has going for it, Panagore says: It's got strong neighborhoods and good housing stock. Downtown might be sleepy, but it's largely intact. And the city actually has a relatively stable economy, based in the medical field, financial services and the manufacturers that have remained. While the economy of Springfield didn't rise as high as, say, Boston did during the economic good times, Panagore notes, that also meant it didn't have as far to fall when the inevitable downturn came.
For all its problems, Springfield remains the economic engine of western Mass. "It's so critical to anchor this end of the state," Panagore says. Already, he notes, large percentages of residents of neighboring towns come into Springfield for work. While many residents have left the city for homes in the surrounding suburbs, their employers don't always follow, preferring to remain in Springfield, which has the infrastructure needed for larger businesses, he says. And, Panagore predicts, as the rising cost of gas leads people to move closer to their jobs, Springfield will become a more appealing place to live. "We have the infrastructure that will support people moving back in," he says.
Panagore has faith that Springfield has enough residents who are truly committed to moving the city forward. "I know this sound squishy and soft, but it's really, really a question of civic engagement," he says. "Once a community has slid into a Control Board, they don't ever want to go back."
mturner@valleyadvocate.com
