The Nathan Clifford Hostage Crises

It was after walking past a lonely snowman waving to the street below from an empty classroom and a pile of telephone books, delivered in early summer, left to rot away on its front door I found myself sitting at a well-worn school lunch table in the chilly basement of the Nathan Clifford School Wednesday night. Seventy people from the neighborhood that forms a triangle between Brighton Avenue, St. John Street and I-295 had gathered there at the urging of fluorescent fliers affixed to telephone poles suggesting we would learn what the future may hold for the abandoned school building.

Ed Suslovic, city councilor for the district and homeowner in the neighborhood I’ve dubbed “South Oakdale,” began the meeting by introducing us to Aaron Duffey. Aaron stood up, and gave a brief synopsis of who he was and why we were there. He explained that in addition to the future of the school, which would be saved for last, we also would include a discussion about the potential redesign of the six-point intersection of Deering and Brighton Avenues and Falmouth and Bedford Streets and any other neighborhood-specific issues.

We also heard from a ranking member of the rarely-heard-from Woodfords-Oakdale Neighborhood Association. I put two and two together and determined that with our councilor’s blessing and Aaron’s inclination to lead such an effort, we were witnessing a (welcomed) secession from that association and forming our own.

And so it went. The intersection discussion was up first, followed by neighbors discussing how to handle noise complaints, a possible change in how the neighborhood on-street parking is handled, graffiti and the increase of theft instances. After forty minutes of back and forth on these issues, we got down to the business of Nathan Clifford.

Ed introduced us to the school committee member for the neighborhood, Laurie Davis. Laurie explained how the school committee had not yet voted to turn the building back over to the city. The audience piped up and naturally inquired as to why, and it was learned that the issue “hadn’t come up” before the committee. She continued by telling the crowd that the school finance committee wanted to “have assurance” from the city that the committee “would get its fair share of the proceeds” from a future sale of the building. It turns out laying the hand out on the table showing the “it’s all about the money” card might not have been a good idea in a room full of what rapidly turned from concerned neighbors to frustrated abutters.

Sensing I think the mood of the crowd, Ed loudly accused the school committee of “holding the neighborhood hostage” with their “back room deals,” preventing the city from moving forward with a plan, which we had yet to learn about, for the building. Laurie was on the defensive, saying, while standing beneath steam radiators with their paint peeling, that the school committee felt that it should be rewarded for their investments in and taking care of the building through the years. She insisted that she had “no idea” that having a large building sitting abandoned in the middle of a residential neighborhood was an issue that was raising the ire of its abutters. Yelled one neighbor in response, “How could you not know that?”

Nathan Clifford School on Falmouth St.

Ed took over to introduce us to Dr. Monroe Duboise. He is the director of the USM SEPA Project and Maine ScienceCorps and is an Associate Professor of Applied Medical Sciences at USM. It was nice to see him. I first met Monroe back in March, when I went to see him in his laboratory to discuss a plan he had to turn the Nathan Clifford School into the Center for Science, Technology and Human Innovation.

It was an exciting plan. It was to be a “venue for engaging citizens of all ages in exploration and learning at the creative frontiers of science, technology, engineering and mathematics.” A center like no other in the state, with the closest such place being the Boston Museum of Science. It was a plan that would preserve architect John Calvin Stevens’ original intent for the building as a center for learning. It was an idea which would preserve amenities like the playground and green space behind the building for community use. It was the ultimate plan.

When we spoke back then, Monroe indicated to me that he felt like he would have all his ducks in a row, have a 501.3.c formed to raise funds and be able to start a build-out by the end of September. Remembering this as September past, I lost hope as I continued to walk by the empty building thinking that perhaps Monroe had given up on the center after being tangled in the viscous back-room bureaucracy that is Portland. But he hadn’t, and he presented his plan to everyone in the room. It was warmly received.

After the Science Center presentation, the crowd’s attention refocused on the school committee member. Someone asked when the school board would act to turn the building over to the city. An answer of “soon” wasn’t enough, and another asked how long. When three weeks was suggested, another person made her promise.

Until then, the Nathan Clifford School, with its rooms left trashed, yard strewn with glass and the heat set to fifty remains the hostage of the school committee for a cut on the deal. It’s hard to say what those back room discussions might be, but my “back-room-mind” guess is that the school committee would much rather see the building chopped up into condos by the highest bidder and get their double-digit percentage of the proceeds. Based on that thought, it would seem that adding to the kitty to them is much better than turning the hostage over to the city so we can lease it to some non-profit for a nominal fee, and they are going to hold out until the city promises such or the roof falls in, whichever comes first.

And with such an exciting plan on the table, that’s a shame.