Battlefield Providence

David Cicilline, a progressive, openly gay state legislator, has his eye on Cianci's job

by Jim Taricani

Providence Mayor Vincent A. "Buddy" Cianci Jr. is planning to run for one more term. Since winning office in 1974, Cianci -- with the exception of a close race with Fred Lippitt in 1990, and his hiatus after pleading nolo to a 1984 assault -- has skated to re-election after re-election, surviving more investigations than President Clinton. But if Buddy is still pushing his marinara sauce when the 2002 election rolls around, there may be a David to take on the Goliath of Providence politics. State Representative David Cicilline (D-Providence) is seriously considering running for mayor.

Cicilline, an East Side liberal who was elected to the House in 1994, plans to seek reelection to the General Assembly, and he stops short of officially announcing a mayoral bid. At the same time, though, he sounds like an incipient candidate, touting his energy, passion, and more importantly, the ability to raise enough money to give Cianci a real challenge for his throne. "I've got my sights set on it," Cicilline says.

"I've always been excited about the prospect of being mayor of Providence," says the 38-year-old legislator, a criminal-defense and civil rights lawyer with a Federal Hill office. Without skipping a beat, he takes a page from Cianci's standard stump speech, saying, "I love this city. It's a wonderful city. We've done some great things here, but we have some really serious issues to address in this city," including problems with schools, housing and municipal finances.

And then there's the shadow cast by Operation Plunder Dome, the ongoing federal probe of municipal corruption, which has thus far resulted in five guilty pleas and one conviction. The Providence political rumor mill continues to buzz with speculation that the investigation may force Cianci from office, although the mayor says he's confident the feds don't have anything on him.

Former mayor Joseph Paolino, who replaced Cianci when he was forced into the land of radio talk shows after his nolo plea, is said to be eyeing the top job at City Hall. The names of City Council president John J. Lombardi and even two-time former gubernatorial candidate Myrth York are being mentioned, although York has given no public indication that she'd be interested.

Cicilline, a passionate progressive whose father, John, is known, among other things, for having represented the late New England mob boss Raymond L.S. Patriarca, would be an interesting mayoral candidate. Some question whether enough socially conservative Providence voters would support a candidate like Cicilline, who last year publicly revealed that he's gay. As for himself, Cicilline thinks it's not an issue.

Darrell West, a political science professor at Brown University, says that given the likely campaign issue of Plunder Dome -- and a field of candidates that would expand if the investigation claims Cianci -- Cicilline has a real chance of winning the corner office. "My sense is seven or eight people would be running," West says, "so whichever candidate could get 35 of the vote would win, and anybody can get 35 percent."

CIANCI SAYS he respects Cicilline and takes seriously anyone who runs against him. Citing his stewardship of the city -- which has sparked the ascent of Providence's out-of-town reputation -- and a desire to deliver progress on the schools and the New Cities redevelopment plan, Cianci dismisses Cicilline's suggestion that it's time for a change. "I've been the pilot of the plane," the mayor says. "The plane is cruising, and I'm going to bring it in for a landing. There's no need to change the pilot in the middle of a flight."

For the most part, Cicilline carefully avoids harsh criticism of the man he would like to send into early retirement, crediting Cianci with making Providence into "a national city," through downtown improvements, like Waterplace Park, and sparking a sense of renewed pride that hadn't been felt by citizens of the capital city for decades. Of Operation Plunder Dome, which would no doubt be Cianci's huge Achilles' heal in the 2002 election, Cicilline says, "It's very, very sad for the city, for all of us who love and care about the city of Providence."

At the same time, Cicilline subtly infers that Cianci's iron-fisted governing style has seen its day. "Providence has made tremendous progress, so it's really important that the next generation of leaders really take Providence to the next level," he says. And Cicilline, who agrees that City Hall has a reputation for heavy-handed dealing, comes close to taking a shot at Cianci. "People have to have a clear sense," he says, "that they're going to be treated fairly by the administration and their proposals are going to be considered on their merits."

The prospective candidate refuses to speculate on whether the Plunder Dome investigation will touch the mayor, creating an early job opening at City Hall. But without hesitation, he adds in almost an embarrassed whisper, "obviously, if something happened, I would be interested."

Cicilline says the Cianci administration has come up short on a number of issues, including underperforming schools and the property taxes paid by Providence homeowners. "Our taxpayers are overburdened," he says. "We have the lowest tax capacity and the highest tax rates." Cicilline believes a complete restructuring of city government is needed to weed out any unnecessary bureaucracy.

The embattled Providence Police Department is another target. Cicilline believes, as do others, that Cianci, not Police Chief Urbano Prignano Jr., runs the police department. Although Prignano has vehemently disputed this view, the perception is there. Every time the police make a high-profile arrest, it's Cianci who holds and moderates the news conference, not the chief -- a situation not lost on Cicilline. "I don't think there's independent leadership," he says. "I don't think it's appropriate for the mayor to be holding news conferences on police matters. We shouldn't be using our criminal justice system to advance a political agenda."

But Cianci, noting that he gets the complaints when crime goes up, says it's appropriate for him to herald the good news on the law enforcement front.

CICILLINE WAS recruited by a prominent Wall Street law firm in the summer before he graduated magna cum laude from Georgetown Law School in 1986. "I was paid an incredible amount of money," he says, rolling his eyes in disbelief, recalling the $1200 weekly paychecks for a summer job in 1985. But the money couldn't overcome the nascent barrister's dislike of mundane corporate legal work in 265-member firm. "There was just no passion," he says.

Upon graduation, Cicilline opted for a far less financially rewarding job -- as a public defender in Washington, D.C. His pride rising with the memory, he says, "I got to defend people who never had anything; at least they were getting high quality legal representation."

While he lives in an elegant Elmgrove Avenue home in a luxurious East Side neighborhood, Cicilline takes it as his mission to assist those who are far less fortunate. His mingling of affluence and activism can be seen in how he traditionally hosts a light Thanksgiving dinner at his home for friends, reporters and fellow politicians, provided the guests bring a bag of canned goods to be distributed to the poor.

"I grew up a white male. I had two parents who loved me. I went to wonderful schools [Brown and Georgetown Law]," Cicilline explains over a buffet breakfast prepared by his housekeeper, Phyllis, a retiree who receives board in exchange for minding the house and preparing meals. "I had a lot of privileges and opportunities. When you see people who have none of those opportunities and are fighting every day to have home heating oil, and get their kids into good schools, I think you can be part of the solution."

Cicilline was born in South Providence and lived there until he was in the sixth grade, when his family moved to Narragansett. He's the middle child of John and Sabra Cicilline, who have three daughters, and another son, John Jr., also a lawyer, who works out of David Cicilline's Atwells Avenue office. The office was formerly home to Heritage Loan and Investment, the infamous bank owned by convicted embezzler Joseph Mollicone. The son of a Roman Catholic father and a Jewish mother, Cicilline grew up with both religious traditions and identifies as Jewish. In fact, he's a on the board of his temple, Temple Beth El.

Cicilline is intense and animated. He flips from being contemplative to humorous and self-deprecating in a seamless manner, constantly holding the attention of his breakfast visitor. The legislator says his father, known by friends and the press as "Jack" has had a huge influence on his life. "I've learned about most everything in the world from my father," Cicilline says. "He taught me to always do the right thing, no matter how unpopular it might be."

In 1988, after working as a public defender in the nation's capital for a $25,000 salary, Cicilline returned to Rhode Island and set his mind on politics. Running for the state Senate against incumbent Rhoda Perry, a fellow liberal activist, he got clobbered. "Looking back on it, I must have been out of my mind to run against her," Cicilline recalls. "We didn't disagree on any of the issues. I just wanted to be a public servant, too."

But the would-be politician didn't say die. Instead, he immersed himself in volunteering with non-profit organizations. Cicilline is a member of the Jewish Federation of Rhode Island, serving on its AIDS task force. He's a board member for numerous groups that seek to expand opportunities for the disabled, and a member of the Human Rights Commission. The lawmaker has just been reelected president of the board of directors for the respected Rhode Island Project AIDS. "David is always there when we need him," says Mike Gerhardt, the agency's executive director. "He makes all the meetings and is financially very generous."

By 1994, Cicilline was a successful lawyer and he decided to run for the same seat he had lost two years earlier. He successfully ran for state representative in District 4, encompassing the East Side and part of Pawtucket, and has held the seat ever since. It's a measure of Cicilline's stature that he's earned the respect of legislative leaders, even while bucking the leadership on dozens of issues. "He's a very effective legislator," says John Harwood, the powerful House speaker. Denying that Cicilline's willingness to be a free spirit irks him, Harwood says he considers the "differences of opinions" professional, not personal.

But West, the Brown political scientist, says Cicilline is "effective presenting his positions, but not so effective within the General Assembly, because he sometimes votes against the leadership, and that's a cardinal sin."

Steve Brown, executive director of the Rhode Island chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union, is a studied observer of Smith Hill, and he heaps praise on Cicilline for his doggedness and sincerity. "Watching David at a legislative hearing, cross-examining witnesses, is something to behold," Brown says. "You can see his background as a lawyer and advocate."

At the General Assembly, Cicilline has devoted much of his energy to changing procedural rules and leveling the field, so that independent-minded reps can get legislation to the House floor, and to provide more public access and input to hearings. Although it's an uphill battle, "it's so important to make it easier for people to participate," he says.

Cicilline's other top issues include tougher gun control laws, and it was his bill that increased the legal age for gun ownership in Rhode Island from 15 to 18. He's been in the lead on AIDS issues and is battling, unsuccessfully so far, to change the way that legislative grants are doled out. "The rank-and-file have little or no say as to where the grant money goes," Cicilline says. "The distribution is controlled by the leadership, and the groups they're friendly with get the money."

Many of the Providence Democrat's legislative colleagues give him high marks for his honesty, even though he gives conservatives angina when it comes to social issues like abortion, gay rights, minorities, and gun control.

"His heart is in the right place," says state Representative Melvoid Benson (D-North Kingstown), one of the few females in the General Assembly, and one of the fewer blacks. "He stands for what he believes in, but [he] does have a sense of compromise because he likes peace."

Meanwhile, Cicilline rushes off from breakfast at his home to begin another 16-hour day. He says he doesn't have much of a night life, "probably because I don't have a partner right now." He goes to a gym on a regular basis and plays tennis occasionally. Reflecting on where he's headed, the lawmaker says, "I think my purpose in life is to use my talents, my passion and my energy to try to make some improvements in the world in which I'm living, and leave it a better place than when I arrived."