What would it take to shake things up?

November 27, 2004

BY THOMAS ROESER Where's the outrage? Not long ago, I took lunch with a bevy of wealthy (except for me) city business leaders. They were all bubbling about Millennium Park and the flower pots that decorate the city, crediting Mayor Daley. Then, about the time for coffee and fruit (they, pencil slim, pass on dessert as do I now, regrettably), I brought up the corruption. And I asked about the outrage.

''The what?'' asked Winnetka.

''The outrage,'' repeated Lake Forest.

''Please explain,'' Wilmette said. And so I did.

The $40 million scandal involving hired trucks that stood idle while their owners were paid with tax dollars. The five hired trucks (after Daley pledged to remedy the situation) that delivered 380 tons of stolen city asphalt to private contracting jobs, with the feds secretly tape-recording and videotaping the deliveries. The towed cars that the city sold cheaply by the pound for scrap while politically favored companies resold them as vehicles for premium prices.

I went all the way back to the construction firm that put in a false bid to install iron fencing, and seven policemen from the Austin neighborhood found guilty of running shakedowns. When I got to Tony Pucillo, at the city's Department of Transportation, charged with accepting thousands of dollars in bribes, Winnetka cleared his throat as a signal for me to stop.

But, I persisted, where's the establishment outrage?

''Corruption in a city like this,'' said Winnetka, using his favorite term, ''is endemic.''

As I'm hard of hearing, I thought he said ''epidemic.''

''No,'' he said gently. ''Endemic.'' Politeness is endemic with the big business A list. ''Endemic. It goes along with the territory.''

But, I said: Where's the outrage?

Now it struck Winnetka that he must speak plainly. Gifted with a CEO's diplomacy that lasts only so long, he can, when pressed, lay out the facts in a luncheon dispute as toughly as when striking a deal for acquisition against a hard-bargaining opponent.

''The outrage,'' said he, ''doesn't exist. And for good reason! What did Louis XVI say? 'After me the...' ''

''Deluge,'' supplied Lake Forest.

''Deluge. Two things can happen to cause a Daley collapse. An indictment, which is not impossible given this man Fitzgerald. Or a Daley political meltdown. With no political parties here, there is no successor in sight, yet who can run this town?''

''Agreed,'' said Wilmette. ''My government relations guys say there are two who could benefit. They are --.''

''The same two as my people tell me about,'' said Winnetka. ''Two congressmen are mentioned and are running around Washington telling anyone who will listen that they are interested in trying: Jesse Jackson Jr. and Luis Gutierrez.''

Silence as they spooned their fruit cups.

''That,'' said Winnetka gently, ''is what happened to the outrage you speak of. And don't tell me we're racists. We met with Harold Washington, and our people worked with him when he was in Congress; my general counsel graduated with him from Northwestern Law. Harold ranked first in his class -- in the '50s, mind you: an era where blacks were not favored there. We sided with him along with the editorial boards against the Vrdolyak 29. The highly unfashionable thing to bring up, my dear sir, is this:''

All spoons poised aloft to catch the drift.

''If Daley goes, what happens to Chicago? Both Jackson and Gutierrez are known for their phrase-making and fiery politics. But who's more likely to take over is Gutierrez. You substitute for Daley fever-pitched confrontation, minute-by-minute press conferences? Chicago could become the next Belfast.

''So you ask: Where's the outrage? I say it's sublimated. Apres moi le deluge. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a board meeting at the Urban League."

''Meeting adjourned,'' chorused Wilmette and Lake Forest.