Elmer Smith: Is the Doomsday Budget just a little bit too doom-y?
The crisis is real. There'll be pain. But still...
PALLBEARERS wearing matching frowns stood shoulder-to-shoulder behind him as the mayor delivered the eulogy.
On a table off to one side of the mayor's reception room, aides had lined up the visuals, including big boxes of forms that will need to be filled out as part of the arduous task of deciding which city workers will get axed first.
To his left, a large screen flashed the bad news in a graphic display of the city's fiscal woes.
That creaking sound in the distance was the casket closing slowly on the city's future.
Other than those occasions when he had to respond to the tragic death of a police officer or firefighter, the mayor began, "clearly this is the worst day of my tenure of service to you as mayor."
The pallbearers/cabinet members stood stoically as the mayor detailed what he called a "frightening list of devastating actions" that he may have to take starting next week to ease the city's mounting budget crisis.
"Thousands of city employees, hardworking public servants, taxpaying citizens themselves, will lose their jobs," he warned. "Services will be dramatically diminished.
"Every part of city government could be affected by Wednesday," he warned.
Or maybe not. The "optimal circumstance," the mayor said, would be for the state to quickly pass a bill giving the city the proceeds of a 1 percent hike in the sales taxes charged for purchases within city limits and the right to alter the way it funds the city's pension obligations.
Without that taxing authority, the mayor said, the city forfeits "$10 million a month in lost revenue."
"We need prompt action from Harrisburg," he said at one point. "Without amendment, without delay.
"The impact of inaction," he concluded, "would be devastating."
How devastating? Something on the order of the Chicago fire or the San Francisco earthquake without the smoke or rubble.
About 929 sworn police officers and a few dozen civilian police employees would face layoffs starting Sept. 18. He said that 200 firefighters would have to be furloughed.
"We will have to stop lending books," he said, because all 500 library workers are facing layoffs. About 80,000 children served by after-school programs at the libraries would be turned away.
Programs that provide lunches and activities for senior citizens would be cut, along with recreation leagues that serve 45,000 people a day. Development projects "will come to a grinding halt," he said.
Layoffs that would begin Oct. 2 will at least temporarily eliminate "3,000 filled positions -
real bodies, real people, real families," he said.
As he spoke, I envisioned people trudging through ankle-deep refuse or driving on streets dotted with potholes that could eat an SUV. I envisioned children wandering aimlessly because libraries and swimming pools have been closed.
Then he got to one I couldn't envision, and the whole doomsday scenario started coming apart for me.
The mayor said that the revised five-year plan he will submit to the Pennsylvania Intergovernmental Cooperation Administration calls for shutting down the Common Pleas and Municipal courts.
That's when it all started to ring hollow. To shut down the courts, you'd have to risk letting suspects go free because they can't be held without an arraignment where the charges are read and passed on.
Any defendant in criminal court who demanded a preliminary hearing and didn't get one could end up with an automatic dismissal of the charges.
The mayor parried my questions on that subject by saying that the details of how to shut down the court system had not been worked out.
I suspect that a lot of this has not been worked out. The crisis is as real as the mayor says it is. The city is leaking oil by the bucket.
But the real danger for the mayor and the city is that legislators, wrestling with a huge state deficit, may have heard one dire warning too many.
Send e-mail to smithel@phillynews.com or call 215-854-2512. For recent columns: http://go.philly.com/smith



