Health queries and compliments: Fumo's victory lap
Call it Vince Fumo's farewell tour. Last night, the powerful South Philadelphia politician stood at a lectern at Neumann Goretti High School, doing one of the things he does best - listening to his constituents' worries and assuring them he'll look into things.
Call it Vince Fumo's farewell tour.
Last night, the powerful South Philadelphia politician stood at a lectern at Neumann Goretti High School, doing one of the things he does best - listening to his constituents' worries and assuring them he'll look into things.
Not one member of the audience of 25, all members of the Central South Philadelphia Civic Association Alliance, asked about the Democratic state senator's forthcoming corruption trial.
They wanted to know about their trash, and they wanted to know how Fumo was feeling a month after his heart attack, and on what he plans on doing after he retires at the end of this Senate term.
(He answered: Organize neighbors to take care of trash; pretty good; and teach and practice law.)
"This is my victory lap, I guess," Fumo said.
The adoring crowd was made up of people like Theresa DiGiralomo, a lively woman who has lived in South Philadelphia for 78 years. It doesn't matter to her that Fumo lives in a fancy house in Spring Garden or that the feds are after him, she said, rapping her cane for emphasis.
"He's
good
," she said. "He does good for us."
As for the indictment?
"I don't know. I wasn't there. I can't make allegations," DiGiralomo said. "I don't condone it, but you tell me a straight politician. I know he does charity."
Case in point, DiGiralomo said: She needed to get a form notarized to get a handicapped sticker for a car. She went to Fumo's office, "and they notarized it for free and took it to Harrisburg for me."
Others mentioned grants he helped them get, like money for a new Neumann Goretti auditorium, cash to help planning for South Broad Street, funds for planting flowers.
There was a little time for bragging, too. Fumo said his staff added up how much he has brought to the region since he was elected, and the figure was $8 billion - and for 27 of his 30 years in office, he's been a member of the minority party.
"It wasn't easy all those years figuring out ways to come up with all that money," he said. "You do that because you've got guts and because you've got integrity."
And though he made no endorsements among the three candidates for his First District seat, he did manage to get a shot in at his successor.
"Things are going to change no matter who takes my place," Fumo said. "No one is going to come in with 30 years' experience. We're not going to have the same kind of clout we do now."
They nodded their heads as if they were in church. They clapped and smiled and cheered. Fumo might have dressed more nicely than they did, but he seemed like a regular guy, a guy who sounds like he's from Philly and grew up in the neighborhood.
As the night wound down, Fumo, unprompted, mentioned his legal troubles.
"It took them five years, and after five years they had to find something. So they indicted me for having my driver go pick up my laundry," he said of the FBI. "It's still a pain in the neck, with legal fees in the millions. But I've never shied away from a fight."
The audience applauded.
"Good for you," someone shouted.