Our ever-cooler city is ready for the spotlight again

Our city is perched on the edge of the abyss representing the unknowable answer to the question "What might go wrong?" During a week of apocalyptic possibilities for civic embarrassment presented by the Democratic National Convention, I have one word of advice for my proud but anxious fellow Philadelphians:

Panic.

Go ahead, knock yourself out. Fret and worry all you want. It won't make a lick of difference. Besides, it will give you something to do while the rest of us are out painting the town and those 57 shouldn't-they-be-called-jackasses-not-donkeys? red.

Philadelphia will do what Philadelphia has done routinely in recent years in crunch-time situations: Impress and deliver, while charming the socks off visitors.

What a sea change in prevailing civic addytood since Philadelphians boldly and belatedly embraced the conviction that their city really is getting better all the time. It's so cool to be cool and know it.

Philadelphia had crossed that psychological Rubicon by the time we hosted the Republican National Convention in the summer of 2000. That was the first time I noticed a widespread and seemingly effortless confidence that the city could hold its own in the game of civic show and tell.

"Los Angeles [site of the Democratic convention in 2000] won't be able to touch what Philadelphia did this week. They've only got 5,000 volunteers," said RNC 2000 chairman and Comcast vice president David Cohen about the 15,000 locals who enthusiastically turned out to wow Republican delegates in Philadelphia.

Sixteen years ago, controversy and racial animosity reigned in the weeks before the GOP convention.

Philadelphia police stood accused of sanctioning racially motivated violence against Thomas Jones, a black man beaten by multiple police officers during his arrest after a brief chase in a stolen cop car. The arrest and beating were captured on videotape by a local TV news helicopter and broadcast around the world. (Jones was later sentenced to 18 to 37 years for his 12-day robbery and carjacking spree. The officers were cleared of wrongdoing by a grand jury but 13 were suspended without pay for five to 15 days in connection with the incident.)

In addition, activists from around the country were descending on Philadelphia and during the convention attempted to shut down the city by blocking traffic on Broad Street and other locations in widespread acts of vandalism and civil disobedience.

Philadelphia police earned high praise for their professionalism and restraint toward protesters, who discovered that they had failed to win the hearts and minds of Philadelphians.

"We didn't have a lot of community support," said New York student organizer Mariano Munoz in a 10th anniversary report on RNC 2000.

"I think a lot of people started to look on us as a nuisance rather than freedom fighters," Munoz said. "All these people from outside Philly had caused a big headache for people who were trying to get to work, or get their children from day care. We could have done a better job of letting people know what was going to happen."

I don't think advance warning would have changed the reaction of five women dressed in office attire and walking down Locust Street during the rush-hour rampage.

Two tattooed female protesters in anarchist attire started pushing a wheeled dumpster off the sidewalk to block traffic. The five local women raced to the opposite end of the dumpster and started pushing back. Frank words were exchanged, suggesting which members of which side should take a flying leap at a rolling doughnut.

Finally, the anarchists relented and in a face-saving gesture one of them said, "Let's get out of here before they spray us with Chanel."

Clark DeLeon writes regularly for Currents. deleonc88@aol.com