The idea of killing off the city was first floated back in the '80s, during the fight over the incinerator, Moretta says. That was long before the recent spate of corruption cases. At that time, the feeling among many lawmakers was that Vernon had forfeited its right to exist by being so determined to stick its finger in its neighbors' eyes.
"Vernon is a terrible neighbor and has been for decades," says John Vigna, Pérez's spokesman. "Nobody in Vernon has had to give a tinker's damn about what the people in Maywood, Bell and Boyle Heights care about anything they do."
PHOTO BY ANNE FISHBEIN
Curt Hagman, R-Chino Hills, was one of seven lawmakers to vote against AB 46. Here, he meets with a coalition of Vernon business and labor groups at Petrelli Electric.
PHOTO BY ANNE FISHBEIN
Vernon's sole house of worship, the 1912 Holy Angels Church of the Deaf, conducts English and Spanish services in sign language.
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UNDER PRESSURE
Vernon might have gone on as it always had — enriching itself and enraging its neighbors — were it not for the salary scandal in the nearby city of Bell. When the story of City Manager Robert Rizzo's excesses hit the news in the summer of 2010, there was a rush to tote up the salaries of city officials everywhere. Attention quickly turned to Vernon's outrageous pay packages.
In Bell, citizens engaged in a popular revolt and the council was thrown out of office. But in Vernon, the handful of residents didn't seem to mind. "I don't understand what their problem is," says John Kriste, 80, a retired Vernon firefighter who has lived in the city for 35 years. "You have two little incidents in 100 years."
District Attorney Steve Cooley called for the city to be abolished. Others, including L.A. City Council members, joined the chorus.
As those calls grew, the Vernon Chamber of Commerce pleaded with the Vernon City Council to reform. In a letter last November, the chamber urged the council to bring salaries under control, to do open candidate searches for vacant positions and to open up the city's government to input from the business community.
But after so many years of getting along fine without answering to anyone, the council was slow to perceive the threat. City officials defended the high salaries and hunkered down, waiting for the controversy to blow over.
"It's like they were in a time capsule," says Juliet Goff, president of Kal Plastics, a Vernon manufacturer. "They woke up in 2011 and they think it's 1950."
Pérez got their attention in December, when he introduced a bill to abolish Vernon. If it passed, the city would be turned over to the county initially. After that, any city that borders Vernon — including Los Angeles — could apply to annex it and its rich tax base.
Suddenly Vernon could no longer gamble that the storm would pass. But instead of coming out forcefully and publicly against the bill, the five city councilmen — each of whom makes $68,000 a year and lives in city-subsidized housing — withdrew further into their shells. They have been mostly absent from the debate over disincorporation, feeding the impression that they lack sophistication or are the puppets of the city's highly paid attorneys and consultants.
In early May, Mayor Hilario "Larry" Gonzales answered a reporter's knock on his door but refused to be interviewed.
"You say anything to a reporter, it gets twisted," he said, referring inquiries to the city's spokesman. "We got Fred [MacFarlane] to answer questions."
Another longtime councilman, Mike McCormick, came out of his apartment with his dog at his side but refused to talk.
After weeks of negotiations with the spokesman, McCormick and Councilman Bill Davis agreed to an interview. But they would not discuss pending reforms or questions about Eric Fresch and his million-dollar contract.
Asked whether previous administrators' salaries had been too high, Davis defended the city's hiring process. "When we're looking for a department head, we ask opinions," he said. "We ask the lawyers if this is a good candidate for a position. That's what we're basing it on."
The city's problem, he argued, is not systemic. "As Mayor Gonzales says, we got some bad apples."
"When we find out something is not right, we take action to correct it," McCormick said. "We don't let it fester. ... We've learned from our past, and we'll enact changes to protect our future."
That was their first interview in almost a year. Beyond that, council members remained quiet.
Instead of taking the lead, they did what they are more accustomed to doing: hiring other people, at great cost, to fight back for them. The city hired attorneys at Latham & Watkins to give legal advice. The attorneys hired Chris Lehane, a Democratic strategist, to give political advice. Lehane hired political consultant Ace Smith to do a TV commercial.
The city also hired former state Attorney General John Van de Kamp to give advice on political reform. Van de Kamp hired Bob Stern, who co-authored the Political Reform Act, to help out. As the city attracted more and more media scrutiny, it hired MacFarlane to deal with the press.
The Vernon Chamber of Commerce hired its own PR consultants and strategists. They launched the Save Vernon Jobs campaign, which has a Facebook page and a Twitter account. The chamber alone has raised hundreds of thousands of dollars from its members. Including the city's expenses, the campaign to save Vernon has undoubtedly reached seven figures.
