Illustration by Rich Hauck
A few years back, then-ordinary citizen Eric Papenfuse introduced me to the works of Paul Beers.
Papenfuse had selected a series of essays by the former Patriot-News columnist as the inaugural title for his just-formed Midtown Scholar Press, and, to celebrate the book’s publication, held a series of events at his bookstore.
At the time, I had scant knowledge of Beers, who had recently died, having left the newspaper business some years earlier. The book, “City Contented, City Discontented,” reprinted a series of columns that he had penned for the Patriot, each one transformed into a short, punchy book chapter that offered a tutorial (with Beers’ cynical slant) of the city’s history over about 100 years.
It’s all there: the rapid rise, the concentrated wealth, the struggles, the flood, the fall. But, to me, the most fascinating chapters were near the end, the ones that focused on former Mayor Steve Reed.
Reed had been mayor for just two years when Beers wrote his last column, but he captured perfectly both the promise and the peril of the man who eventually would reign for seven terms.
“This columnist has heard hundreds of curbstone and barroom opinions that place Reed anywhere between Herod and St. John the Divine, but never a satisfactory explanation of who the man is,” Beers wrote.
He went on to point out what he considered to be Reed’s virtues—a quick mind, an unfettered optimism, confidence, creativity and a commitment to hard work—as well as his perceived faults—an all-knowing attitude, a stubbornness, a Machiavellian streak and a predilection for conflict over compromise.
Beers described a man of extremes, one who possessed both great strengths and tremendous weaknesses. So, Reed was a whirlwind of action, but was given to impetuousness and lack of preparation. He was pragmatic, yet “mulish.” He had sound ideas, but possessed an “irritating all-knowingness.” He wasn’t taken by flattery, but always insisted on asserting himself as the smartest man in the room.
Beers would not be the last journalist to analyze (psychoanalyze?) Steve Reed, but I think it’s fair to say that, over time, Reed allowed his weaknesses to overwhelm his strengths. By the end, he was left fighting a rearguard action to keep the city from financial collapse, his most evident traits no longer his optimism or his ability to get things done, but his arrogance, pugnaciousness and tendency to blame anyone but himself.
We’re now almost two years into the tenure of Mayor Papenfuse, the man who encouraged me to read “City Contented, City Discontented.” In other words, we’re at about the same place in his mayoralty as when Beers wrote about Reed.
I have stated in the past that Papenfuse and Reed are very different men, and, indeed, they are. Whereas Reed was condescending and didactic, Papenfuse is more frank, straightforward and accessible. Whereas Reed was obsessed with a pharaonic vision of great projects at tremendous cost, Papenfuse believes that putting the city on a sustainable financial course is about the best thing he can do.
I find, however, that these two different men (and, let’s face it, bitter enemies) do have some things in common. Both are whip-smart and are willing to take big risks; both can be obstinate and perhaps too quick to make enemies.
“The mayor can be divisive, accusatory and possessive, an infighter who often prefers confrontation to conciliation,” Beers wrote of Reed.
More than 30 years later, largely the same can be said of Papenfuse.
In his columns, Beers tells of an early (now largely forgotten) battle over a new convention-grade hotel for Harrisburg. The circa-1983 brawl pitted Reed against two of the city’s most important actors and power centers, Harristown Enterprises and City Council, in a struggle over how to construct and finance what would become the Hilton Harrisburg.
That skirmish reminded me of the current contretemps over the National Civil War Museum. Papenfuse believes deeply that the museum is a liability—that it takes money from the city and gives little in return. He’s even called the museum “a monument to corruption” and said it should be shut down entirely.
His fight against the museum, however, has not gone over well with other powerful players, including the county commissioners, the regional visitor’s bureau and some key business leaders. The heat was turned up further last month when the visitor’s bureau said it would use its share of hotel tax money to implement, without the administration’s involvement, a marketing plan for the city, leading Papenfuse to denounce both the bureau and the Harrisburg Regional Chamber & CREDC.
While I respect Papenfuse’s position on the museum, I don’t believe that this issue (and the use of hotel tax money in general) is worth going to the mat for, poisoning relationships with people and entities that the city needs as its allies.
His relationships with certain City Council members have become similarly fraught. Papenfuse and council President Wanda Williams can hardly hide their mutual contempt, and his rapport with the school board is also bad.
When Papenfuse first became mayor, he went on something of a goodwill tour, saying he wanted to have friendly relationships with everyone.
At the time, I told my colleague: “Don’t be fooled. That old firebrand is still in there.” And, increasingly, Papenfuse has shown little patience for those he believes cooperated too much with Reed, facilitating the city’s demise, or for those he believes stand in the way of his initiatives now.
“This Harrisburger should be honored for having some of the enemies he has,” Beers said of Reed.
Papenfuse is making enemies quickly. Should he be honored, as Beers suggested with Reed? Is embracing conflict a sustainable strategy for getting things done?
If there is a lesson to be learned from the Steve Reed years, it may be this: Build upon your strengths, minimize your weaknesses and don’t let your flaws come to define you.
Lawrance Binda is editor-in-chief of TheBurg.
