The weight of history In 2003 — a year marked by the Station disaster — Rhode Island’s future was in the past BY IAN DONNIS

EACH NEW YEAR is supposed to be about rebirth, about the possibility of something better.

But in Rhode Island, 2003 didn’t really start until the disastrous night of February 20 — and by then, it was too late. It was too late for the 100 souls who would lose their lives, and the many other people forever changed, because of the catastrophe that burst upon the state with the ferocity of a meteor.

It was too late to do anything about the chain of once seemingly inconsequential decisions that now looked callous, stupid, and indefensible, and which combined to make the Station nightclub disaster the fourth-worst fire in US history. It was too late to take back the quirks in the pattern of fate that kept some people at home and brought others to West Warwick, the geographic heart of the state, to see Great White, an ’80s band whose time had passed, on a Thursday night in mid-winter. It was too late to reconsider the cheap soundproofing foam or the fateful cascade of sparks. It was too late to do anything other than to mourn, to hurt, to cry, to bleakly, angrily question how the conflagration could have ever happened.

Fifty days into 2003, everything that had come before, everything that was lost — the squandered chance to avoid this annihilating moment — was suddenly far more important than whatever would follow. The crushing weight of history shadowed the New Year in Rhode Island like an oppressive legacy.

It was there when Governor Donald L. Carcieri, a political neophyte who had hit just the right notes in soothing the state’s frayed nerves after the Station fire, ordered an ill-advised state police raid against the Narragansett Indians’ tax-free smoke-shop in July. Although state officials saw the sale of cigarettes at the shop as an impermissible breach, the heavy-handed state response loomed large for the Narragansetts, who naturally perceived it through centuries of persecution.

Similarly, when federal prosecutors brought indictments in September, alleging that officials with Lincoln Park and its British parent made illegal payments to the law firm of McKinnon & Harwood, in part to block the establishment of a Narragansett casino in Rhode Island, it only fed into the tribe’s belief that the fix had been in all along. (The targets of the indictment have denied any wrongdoing. The principals in McKinnon & Harwood, including former House Speaker John B. Harwood, were not charged with any crimes.)

The burden of the past was there when Carcieri and GOP loyalists took early steps to try to make the Republican Party a viable presence in the General Assembly, something that hasn’t been the case, more or less, since the Bloodless Revolution of 1935. Even if many people could philosophically appreciate the benefits of a more closely divided legislature — and even with Democratic ethics issues lending the Republicans some ammunition for 2004 — it was easy for leading Democrats to remain unconcerned.

Like Carcieri, Providence Mayor David N. Cicilline claimed his office in January amid a mood of buoyant optimism. Plans by the giant lottery maker GTECH to build new headquarters in downtown Providence — rapped by some as a sweetheart deal — nonetheless signified confidence in the city’s new leadership. Still, although Cicilline’s colorful predecessor remained locked away in a federal prison in New Jersey — a denouement vividly brought to life through ProJo reporter Mike Stanton’s The Prince of Providence, Rhode Island’s must-read of 2003 — there were the inevitable declarations of how Buddy would have done better in clearing an early December snowstorm.

The past was there when House Speaker William J. Murphy took his post in the early days of the year, replacing Harwood, the latest in a string of once-powerful legislative leaders doomed by hubris and an appetite for power. Although some questioned Murphy’s commitment to reform, the new speaker made good on his commitment to pass separation of powers legislation in the House – something that would have been inconceivable just a year earlier.

Elsewhere at the State House, Senate President William V. Irons started the year with a strong hand, pressing the case for equal Senate representation on the Joint Committee on Legislative Services, the legislature’s spending-and-hiring arm. But by year’s end, the ethical quandary of Senator John Celona (D-North Smithfield), who was in the pay of drug store chain CVS while chairing a Senate committee with oversight over some health-care-related legislation, offered evidence that dubious judgment remained alive and well on Smith Hill.

The heavy freight of history inspired anger and recrimination when US District Court Judge Mary Lisi dismantled the legal team for Leisa Young, the mother of Cornel Young Jr., the black Providence police officer slain, off-duty and out of uniform, by two white colleagues in January 2000. Although Lisi’s defenders said she made her decisions by the book, others perceived a hostile environment for out-of-state lawyers and scorn for slighted minorities. Meanwhile, a finding by researchers at Northeastern University — that minorities continue to be disproportionately stopped by police in Rhode Island — suggested the staying power of discrimination.

For opponents of President George W. Bush’s eager march to war with Iraq, the presidential scarce tactics, built, as it would turn out, on a foundation of lies and misinformation, harkened back to other dark moments in American history. And while Bush was pushing through tax cuts that overwhelmingly benefited the rich, it hardly seemed a coincidence that homelessness and the lack of affordable housing reached new highs in Rhode Island.

The force of prescience had been there for some time when Neil Postman, who died in October, practically predicted the rise of California’s new governor with his 1985 book, Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse In the Age of Show Business.

Hell, the demons of bygone days were there even when Red Sox ace Pedro Martinez nursed a comfortable lead into the waning innings of game seven of the American League Championship Series against the Yankees. Sox fans in countless homes and taverns across Rhode Island could only shiver with a bone-chilling sense of foreboding — knowing full well, it’s happening again — when Grady Little left Martinez on the mound to yield crucial hits to Bernie Williams and Jorge Posada.

It was enough to make you think the script for 2003 was already written.

BUT AS SURELY as the past influences the future, it’s clear that people are not simply automatons.

If the Station disaster revealed the innate human tendency to be complacent in the absence of a crisis, failing for decades to appropriately update the state’s fire code, it also showed the collective generosity of Rhode Islanders, and the dedicated response of rescuers and medical professionals, when faced with a catastrophe. And if we get hit in the head often enough, we’ll try to make things right.

Although Carcieri and Cicilline face difficult challenges in trimming budgetary costs and benefits for state and city employees, they also showed the ability of political leaders to focus public attention — and to take part in a sustained debate with the opposition.

Our national politics often retains a predictable, plastic quality, yet US Senator Lincoln Chafee exhibits the all-too-rare quality of moderation and independent thinking. Flashing his impish charm, the state’s junior senator, recently questioned by reporters, proved himself unwilling to explicitly state that he’ll vote for George W. Bush’s reelection.

If power naturally accrues to entrenched political interests, the final passage of separation of powers — to be considered by voters on the November ballot — indicates that reformers can overcome even daunting odds. Similarly, the rising political profile of Latinos in Rhode Island, as signified most recently by the elevation of Melba Depeña, a native of the Dominican Republic, as executive director of the state Democratic Party, indicates the benefits for those who view democracy as a participatory sport.

There can be little doubt that racism remains a persistent problem in America. Yet the willingness of officials, like Colonel Steve Pare of the Rhode Island State Police and Colonel Dean Esserman of the Providence Police, to express no tolerance for racial profiling suggests the possibility of change.

Poverty and urban violence remain deeply rooted problems. In Providence, though, the efforts of street workers based at the Institute for the Study & Practice of Nonviolence suggests the potential effectiveness of new approaches and collaborative efforts.

If the path toward equality for gays and lesbians remains long and difficult, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court’s groundbreaking decision lent hope to activists in Rhode Island, who plan to press their case in the new legislative session.

The further consolidation of big media was thought to be a done deal when the Federal Communications Commission considered the matter in June. But after an outpouring of opposition by a far-flung coalition, the Senate turned back some of the deregulatory measures. Elsewhere, by pursuing a patient and deliberate strategy, the Providence Newspaper Guild was able to win a new contract after a nearly four-year battle with the Providence Journal.

If many observers consider George W. Bush a sure bet for reelection, the nascent ability of the Internet to rewrite the rules of campaign fundraising — diffusing power among a larger group of smaller donors, to the benefit of Howard Dean — suggests that the future is unwritten.

Heck, there may even be hope for the Red Sox.

Ian Donnis can be reached at idonnis[a]phx.com .