Allan Appel Photo
East Shore politicians told a crowd of asthma, pollution, and noise-weary Morris Covers what they wanted to hear about the future of Tweed-New Haven Airport‘s runways: that they should not be lengthened to accommodate more air traffic.
Still, the crowd wasn’t entirely convinced. Its message: You say no. Now what are you going to do about it?
That was the gauntlet thrown down by about 40 neighbors who, under the banner of a new grassroots group called Voters Opposed to Tweed Expansion, convened an impassioned candidate forum at the Nathan Hale School in Morris Cove on Wednesday night.
They challenged local pols to go on record: State Rep. Bob Megna, who represents the area; State Senate Majority Leader Martin Looney, who also represents the East Shore; and State Rep. Roland Lemar, who represents East Rock and Hamden’s 96th Assembly District. All are running for office this November, although only Megna is being seriously opposed, by Republican John Cirello, who was also in attendance.
Acknowledging the tense decades-long sense of neighborhood opposition to Tweed, Megna, Cirello, and Lemar all expressed opposition to any expansion; Looney, who was not able to attend, also opposed via a letter read by Megna.
The perennial dispute between city economic development officials — who believe longer runways will result in more flights to New Haven by commercial jets and therefore an economic boon — and neighbors, who fear more noise, flooding, and accidents, flared up again recently. The trigger: Senate Bill No. 139, bonding legislation introduced by the city’s delegation in the most recent legislative session in Hartford.
Although the bill didn’t go anywhere — it died in committee— it contained a few sentences requesting $2 million to pave the runway safety areas.
That prospect aroused a sense of a trust betrayed, because a 2009 “Memorandum of Understanding” between the city and East Haven calls for no further paving of the runway and keeping it at its current 5,600 foot-length.
Click here for a previous story in which city officials, including Economic Development Administrator Matt Nemerson (who also attended Tuesday night’s meeting), made the case for expansion back in June: that only with an additional several hundred feet at each end can the airport hold its own with new-style aircraft and increase commercial flights from its current six a day to perhaps 12 or 14.
Tweed activists Rachel Heerema and Susan Campion.
Covers such as Susan Campion and Rachel Heerema (pictured) and others weren’t having any of it. They formed their group and deployed members to do research on small airport viability. They garnered 240 signatures of area residents against further airport growth.
Forty or so members showed up at Tuesday night’s forum. They were emotional, skeptical, and delivered an earful even when the politicians said they in principle agreed with the no-expansion position.
“Is there any way the pro-expansion people can get around the” the 2009 Memorandum of Understanding? asked long-time Morris Cover Annette Fusco.
“The feds, the FAA, could [possibly] trump our state law,” Megna replied. “We should go back next session and change this [the language in the memorandum]. A state statue could always be made stronger.”
“Why didn’t you reach out to us when this” came up? asked Claudia Bosch, who lives near the airport.
“This is not a change in law’ this was a bonding request for $2 million,” Megan responded. “If this was an airport expansion, it would not have reached the paper [it is written on]. It has language about runway safety, repaving. It led to a misunderstanding.”
After a testy back-and-forth, Megna apologized to Bosch for not informing the neighborhood.
While the overwhelming sentiment int he room opposed airport expansion, one neighbor, Tina Doyle, told a reporter afterwards that she favors it. “Business people don’t call it ‘airport expansion,’ but ‘increased services,’” she said.
Not A Rose Garden, Not Dulles
Lemar said that as an alder and now a state rep he signed on to the bonding request because “I thought it was right to start that conversation. You guys live here; I don’t. I hear from constituents who have different needs. I continue to believe the right use of the airport is important for the future of the city. I’ve not met a single person who’s said it should be a rose garden or Dulles,” but the goal is to find a balance, he said.
He and other of the politician/panelists present acknowledged that the search for balance has been made very difficult because “there’s not a lot of trust among the partners,” as Lemar phrased it.
Renate Dicks, secretary of the local management team, cited Tweed’s master plan that, unless checked, appears to be able to trump laws, oppositions, and good intentions. “Tweed has a master plan. Mr. [Tim] Larson [Tweed’s CEO] infuriated us in his plan. Paving those safety zones is the next step,” she said.
“I challenge you folks who say you’re against expansion to change that master plan. The only way you’re going to stop it is [to] change the master plan,” she added, to applause from the audience.
One audience member spoke, with tears, about how she’s an exhausted teacher with a full plate who is finally able to get to sleep late at night only to be awakened by plane noise. She said her parents have been fighting against the airport’s side effects since she was a little girl.
“I’m the guy you love to hate,” said Nemerson, the last speaker before the evening broke up. He acknowledged both the legitimate grievances and pain of the residents before him. He also admitted that the Harp administration asked the delegation to propose the bonding. He said it acted because expanding the service at Tweed potentially to Washington and Chicago is important for Mayor Harps’s economic agenda, and a campaign pledge.
“Now let’s talk about the airport,” he said. Nemerson ticked off the stats: 50 flights a day, of which eight are commercial. “80 percent of noise and pollution comes form general aviation [small private planes],” Nemerson added.
“If we get rid of eight commercial flights, there’ll be 60 flights [of private jets]. There are a lot of rich people in Connecticut. They’re buying more and bigger planes,” he said.
“The airport’s not going away. We’ll always have the 50 to 60 private planes. All we have is control over those eight commercial flights.”
The new commercial jets are quiet, more fuel efficient, he said, but they require 6,000 feet of runway. With 6,000 fee, Tweed flights could go to Chicago, Orlando; there could be 12 or 14 daily commercial flights. No other commercial airport in the country, with the exception of John Wayne in Orange County, California, has less than 6,000 feet of runway, he said. “It’s just bad luck” for us, as of now, he added.
The two alders who represent the East Shore, Sal DeCola and Al Paolillo, were not able to attend Tuesday’s forum. Their stances, also expressed in letters read, were not quite clear except to say they want to follow the feeling of the community.
The moderator of the event, Walter Josephson, clarified the nos and put question marks on the paper name tags of the absent alders.
Lemar said the years-long effort to find balance between the needs of residents and the requirements of economic development have resulted in a breakdown in trust that’s making a solution difficult. He said he was prepared to change his mind. “If the community wants something else, we need to have that conversation,” he said.
“We feel a lot of pressure from the airlines waiting for us to expand those runways,” Nemerson said. “Our hope is these articulate people will be satisfied with a successful airport, with less pollution from general aviation.”
Campion pronounced the evening positive, even exciting. She said she and her group will continue their advocacy, and keep an eye on the politicians.
By opposing a few more commercial aircraft, neighbors are guaranteeing more noise and pollution as private jet use expands to make up for the lack of service.
Neighbors are also guaranteeing higher property taxes, as downtown businesses can't expand unless a couple additional flights are added to places like Chicago.