The good news is, they captured Adolph Hitler two days ago in a suburb of Buenos Aires. The bad news is, they’re bringing him back to stand trial in Los Angeles.
Seriously, though, 1995 was the year of O.J. Even in Vermont, the most un-L.A.-like spot in the nation, the daily grind slowed to a halt as everyone watched the Simpson jury return its miraculous verdict — a perfect Hollywood ending. And 1995 was surely the Year of O.J. Jokes — you heard them by the dozen. Whether or not you think O.J. got away with murder, suffice it to say no one from the Los Angeles Police Department is out there trying to find the real killer.
Back in Vermont, Judge Amy Davenport — who’s up for retention by the legislature in the coming months — gets the 1995 Judicial Slap On the Wrist Award for sentencing local rebel-without-a-cause Cole Grant to 90 days of community service for his role in the brutal, unprovoked mugging of a Burlington Free Press delivery driver on the Church Street Marketplace in the wee hours of the morn’. It was a great win for the kick-ass teenage hoodlum set. Thank you, Amy! [All in all, Grant had a pretty good year — last spring his mom won the Megabucks.]
But even a jackpot couldn’t help Chittenden County Assistant Judge Althea Kroger. Ohmygawd. She won’t resign. The Legislature considers impeaching her a waste of time. And the Judicial Conduct Board case will take years. Althea can play this one out till the cows come home. Be sure to check our Year in Review ’96 for an update.
Speaking of cows: In 1995 Vermont led the nation once again, folks, in implementing tough new BST labeling rules. The idea was to give consumers the choice between milk from cows with growth hormone supplements and cows without. The fear-mongering lunatic fringe won the day: Blue labels went up on market dairy shelves. Funny thing is, nobody seemed to notice — or care. Once the labels came, the hullabaloo went, quicker than you can say “cottage cheese, please.”
One thing people did notice last May in Burlington was the number on their parking tickets. Fines for overstaying your welcome at a parking meter in the state’s largest city jumped 67 percent — to $5. And the late fee rose from $6 to $10. Plus, the cops got a new police station with more square footage than Sears. Pretty progressive. And the state’s largest daily, The Burlington Free Press, raised the price of a newsstand copy from 35 to 50 cents — a 43 percent price hike.
Speaking of Progressives — they had an even better year than O.J. Simpson did: Former Prog Mayor Peter Clavelle made a comeback by returning from his Caribbean sabbatical to defeat one-term Republican Mayor Peter Brownell. Of course, he had some help in the form of Democratic City Councilor Paul “The Spoiler” Lafayette. The South End painter garnered just 15 percent of the vote — most of it from Brownell’s side of the tally sheet. Paul Lafayette did more for the Progressives than anyone since Bernie Sanders stepped down as mayor.
Clavelle won the election with just 43 percent of the vote — in other words, most people voted for somebody else. But that didn’t prevent him from interpreting the election as a mandate from the people. Lots of sun, man, in Grenada. Pedro was so cocky when he got his old office back that he didn’t think twice about appointing a delinquent taxpayer, Ron Bouffard, to the key post of City Assessor. That’s kind of like appointing a chief of surgery who holds the record for malpractice cases. Clavelle appeared dumbfounded when he looked up and saw everyone laughing.
And who can forget the astute justification given by Progressive Councilor Martha Abbott of Underhill? She publicly backed Bouffard’s appointment on the grounds that having a City Assessor who didn’t pay his taxes on time meant he would be more sensitive to the financial hardships of the Queen City citizenry. Bravo!
Sorry, did I say Underhill? Rather, that’s Martha Abbott of Ward 1. According to records at the Burlington Water and Electric Departments, however, Abbott does go to her Underhill home to bathe, do laundry and generally run up the electric bill. But Abbott insists she really and truly lives in that little ramshackle house on Riverside Avenue, not in the big house on the hill in Underhill. And everyone believes her. And pigs don’t fly.
In a related Prog development this year, Clavelle showed his Republican pro-business side by cutting a sweetheart deal with the University of Vermont and Fletcher Allen. He took some of their property off the tax rolls in exchange for the hospital moving some of its operations to a downtown office building. When the members of the Board of Assessors cried foul, Clavelle drew up a charter-change proposal that would turn the board into a gathering of geldings. Sounds like hardball.
HEADS OF STATE
Down Montpelier way, the post-Ralph Wright Era was born with the election of Michael Obuchowski as Speaker of the House. By year’s end, Obie had become the Screamer of the House and the first Bernie Sanders knock-off to appear on the statewide Vermont political scene. Apparently Mr. Obuchowski’s political advisors believe he who shouts loudest shouts best. Obie spent most of the year shouting at Governor Howard Dean, who adroitly feigned deafness.
And speaking of Ho-Ho, this was his year in the sun. It began in January when he took the point in the War Against Newt by suggesting to the Lake Champlain Regional Chamber of Commerce that “they must be smoking opium in the Speaker’s office” — a sound bite heard ’round the nation.
In late July the Sheraton Burlington Hotel and Conference Center (which isn’t even located in Burlington), hosted the annual summer meeting of the National Governors Association. Howard was the chair, and he did a bang-up job of looking and sounding important. His only flub came during a live C-Span appearance, when he forgot the state motto. But hey, he’s a New Yorker, anyway.
By Thanksgiving Howard had turned into Vermont’s own Newt, steadfastly refusing to support tax increases to soften the blows from federal cuts. Like a Reagan Republican, he suggested that private charity was the answer. Liberals and progressives howled, and Judge John Meaker wouldn’t let him unilaterally cut aid to the blind, aged and disabled.
As for real Republicans, Barbara Snelling finally decided in 1995 to put it all on the line and run for governor in 1996. That opened the way for John Carroll to declare for lieutenant governor, which he promptly did. Within a week he was on the ropes, after the press got wind that he’d defaulted on a loan and was being taken to court over it. His political star dropped like a stone.
Her political fortunes much brighter — so far — State Senator Susan Sweetser threw her hat in the race for Bernie Sanders’ job. It’s a race that is sure to be one of Vermont’s top stories in 1996 — assuming Ol’ Bernardo doesn’t go completely speechless.
CULTURE CLUBS
For a while at least, 1995 was the year of fantasy — that’s Club Fantasy, the slick new strip joint that opened on Williston Road in South Burlington. City fathers, led by Bill Cimonetti, and other opponents did everything possible to prevent “moral depravity” from spreading in strip-mall heaven. But in the end, they lost. Though the dancing girls wear G-strings and pasties, and the customers have to maintain a distance of at least four feet from the talent, Club Fantasy became reality. And the City of South Burlington’s legal bills could cover the cost of more substantial undies for every woman — and man and child — in town. But hey, lawyers have to eat, too.
And some of them eat at Leunig’s, where the big news in ’95 was that owners Denny Morrisseau and Laura Thompson sold the “Old World Cafe” after 15 years of operation. Like Mayor Clavelle, they packed up and headed for the Caribbean — St. Croix, to be exact. New Leunig’s owners Attila Keller, a native of Budapest, and his UVM alumna wife Kathryn, upped the quality of the cuisine — and the prices. So far, folks keep flocking back for more. Bon appetit!
GOOD SPORTS
The Vermont Expos, under the leadership and guidance of General Manager Tom Racine — Burlington’s Mr. Baseball — laid claim to being the best minor-league professional baseball team in the land. Attendance-wise, the 1995 Vermont Expos drew as many fans in 37 home games (121,000 total), as the 1984 Vermont Reds drew in 70. The Expos also had the best record in the league: W49 – L27.
Fans who worship the ground the Expos walk on were happy to see Centennial Field’s well-deserved face-lift in 1995. This thanks to an $800,000 check from the state to UVM, which owns the diamond. “We had a great year,” says Racine. “The fans got a lot of personal satisfaction.” And with admission prices truly affordable, baseball at Centennial was the best ticket in town.
The ice has been nice for John LeClair, as the pride of St. Albans took Vermont hockey fans to yet another plateau in ’95. But it didn’t start out pretty. National Hockey League owners locked out players in the biggest imaginable insult to sports fans. Then, nine games in, Montreal showed the first signs of its impending downfall by trading LeClair to the Philadelphia Flyers. The rejuvenated Flyers then spawned the Legion of Doom line: LeClair, Lindros and Rennberg. The rest, as they say, is history — and it’s still in the making. Just when you thought Big John would have a hard time topping his 1993 Stanley Cup exploits, the big galoot went out and became a first-team NHL all-star.
Up on the hill at LeClair’s alma mater, UVM Coach Mike Gilligan‘s skaters took another dive in the playoffs, but by year’s end the ’95-’96 Hockey Cats were poised to pounce on a piece of championship hardware. Sh-h-h-h-h! Don’t jinx ’em.
Instead, just go right ahead into the New Year of 1996 without a moment’s thought. It’s only “The Great Unknown” — which is precisely what 1995 was about just 12 months ago. You haven’t got a choice, anyway. It’s the one train in life you can’t miss, no way, no how. And remember, we’re not here for a long time. We’re here for a good time. Go for it. Happy New Year.
This article appears in December 27 • 1995 & January 2 • 1995.
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