‘The Albany Avengers’ or whatever

Here’s how ChatGPT summarizes the “Albany Plan” I published in the Altamont Enterprise two weeks ago: 

Drawing inspiration from Benjamin Franklin’s 1754 Albany Plan of Union, Enterprise columnist Jesse S. Sommer outlines a strategic framework, dubbed the “Albany Plan v.2,” to revitalize Albany with a $400 million city investment as proposed in New York’s executive budget. It centers on six pillars — Rehabilitation, Education, Civic Services, Innovation, Preservation, and Empathy (R-E-C-I-P-E) — as guiding principles for equitably sustainable development. Sommer emphasizes: (1) repairing existing neighborhoods instead of building new ones; (2) strengthening schools as a means of fostering productive youth development; (3) enhancing public services to combat crime; (4) fostering entrepreneurial innovation; (5) preserving the city’s cultural heritage; and (6) undertaking a radical approach to ameliorate homelessness by reclaiming vacant buildings. Sommer warns that, without principled oversight, New York’s investment in its capital city will be squandered, citing past failures like the Central Warehouse project. His article ultimately urges leaders to adopt a thoughtful, community-centered approach to ensure long-term success for Albany.

The above was supposed to be a peace offering to the TL;DR mafia that critiqued my prior column as “audacious” not because of what I’d said, but rather because I’d had the gall to take more than 6,000 words to say it.  

Instead, I’m now convinced we’re all about to lose our jobs to a website, machine sentience is unavoidable, and the future is already lost so who gives a f*** about what happens to Albany?   

I do.  

That’s why I’m flashing the Bat-Signal to assemble this ragtag outfit of swashbuckling scallywags, rakish rogues, and notorious ne’er-do-wells — or at the very least a few municipal bureaucrats — to right our ship and pilot Albany through the choppy waters of destiny.  

More than a dozen emails questioned whether I could operationalize my Six Pillars. The answer is yes.  But first I need to introduce oh ye of little faith to the necessary principals henceforth known collectively as “the Albany Avengers.”

Kathleen Hochul

New York’s first female governor ascended to the state’s highest office after her predecessor was deposed in an unconscionably overzealous takedown that resulted in zero prosecutions, zero convictions, and an all-but-inevitable election to a New York City mayor’s office only recently emerging from its own horse-traded go-nowhere investigation.

With her popular support disintegrating and Lieutenant Governor Anthony Delgado’s knife still protruding from her spine, Governor Hochul is nonetheless still in the running for designation as Albany’s matron saint; if she can truly deliver $400 million to this city, there’s an I-90 bridge just begging to be named the Hochul Hudson Overpass.

Daniel P. McCoy

When he learned Eurastus P. Corning 2nd had secured distinction as America’s longest-serving municipal executive, it’s rumored that Albany County Executive Dan McCoy whispered: “Hold my beer.” 

Mr. McCoy’s flood-the-zone media instincts are breathtaking, as are his plans to “consolidate services between the city of Albany and Albany County.”  The Albanites’ tribal chief is uniquely postured to advocate for the conversion of 873 vacant city properties into deeded housing for eligible low-income city residents — the cornerstone of this entire gambit.

He’s a relentless cheerleader for Albany County businesses, nonprofits, and community initiatives; we now just need to orient that enthusiasm around the Albany Plan. And for those who say my obsequious loyalty stems solely from the fact that he distinguished me as Albany County’s Citizen of the Month a decade ago, well, what have you done for me lately?  

Katherine M. Sheehan

I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye with Albany’s 75th mayor; her handling of the Central Warehouse ordeal cemented City Hall as my core obstacle to progress. Yet there’s no two ways about it: Albany’s revitalization began in earnest under her leadership, with more than $1 billion in new investment pouring into the city since 2014.

She came to office modernizing a city administration that yet ran on computers best equipped for the 1985 edition of Oregon Trail, and she’ll soon leave office having bequeathed unto Cap City a solid pole by which to vault itself into the future. It’ll then be on the new mayor to assist in eliminating the structural/systemic blights defiling Albany’s cityscape.   

Richard LaJoy

Known statewide mostly for slapping me with a Stop Work Order merely because I’d secured precisely none of the permits required to construct my company’s Tasting Room, Rick LaJoy is an institution unto himself and a resource none of us deserve.

As director of the Department of Buildings and Regulatory Compliance, Albany’s “hardest working official” has been indispensable in bringing Albany up to code. He’s intimately familiar with the 873 vacant buildings at the core of this endeavor, and synching efforts with his team will be Step One if we’re going to do this right.

It’s also worth noting that Rick LaJoy can’t be bought, which is something of which I’m intimately aware. On that note, we still have several Rick LaJoy effigies inscribed with the phrase “Integrity is the Enemy of Progress” available for purchase at the Tasting Room.

Harry Hechehouche

There’s much I don’t know about the city of Albany’s director of operations, to include how in God’s name you pronounce “Hechehouche.” Yet it’s my understanding that he’s assisting the state apparatus in determining how, where, when, and why that $400 million will be spent, so he’s hereby recruited to the A-Team. (The “Albany Avengers” is also now known as the “A-Team.”  Update your contact info.)

Sean Maguire

I’ve never met the Albany County Land Bank’s executive director, but the website squarely demands his participation in this mission. Dig it: “The Albany County Land Bank is a not-for-profit corporation dedicated to revitalizing neighborhoods by addressing vacant properties. We acquire tax-foreclosed, vacant, or abandoned properties … to remove harm and return properties to productive use supporting community development.”  Ummm, yeah — I think we just found our “Captain Albany.”

Kevin O’Connor

A Local Development Corporation is a private, not-for-profit organization established (and principally capitalized) by a county government to promote economic development. One such entity is the Advance Albany County Alliance, which “is focused on business development and growth, retaining and attracting jobs, and promoting Albany County” in collaboration “with public, private, and nonprofit interests ….” 

Kevin O’Connor is the AACA’s chief executive officer and the most obvious link between those 873 vacant properties and the local contractors who will bid for contracts to restore them. Potential hiccup: the AACA (wisely) refused to give my business any money, and I have every intention of being overtly petulant about that, starting with the next paragraph. This might complicate our working relationship.

Ashley Mohl

I’ve never really understood what the Capitalize Albany Corporation actually does. The website says this registered 501(c)(3) nonprofit is “[a] catalyst for economic growth” that “facilitates transformational development projects” and “manages and coordinates all local economic development functions.”

So it certainly seems like CAC President Ashley Mohl should be involved, what with the “facilitating transformational development projects” thing. Under Ms. Mohl’s leadership, the CAC awarded my business the $25,000 godsend we needed to launch our Tasting Room, so clearly this elder millennial is a genius. By the way, you know who didn’t give me any money? Say it with me: Kevin O’Connor.

Jeffrey Neal

We wouldn’t need Jeff Neal if I hadn’t twice failed calculus. But we do because I did. The director of the Division of Finance is the numbers guy “responsible for the administration of the financial affairs of the County,” to include “receipt, custody and investment of public funds; collecting County taxes and maintaining delinquent tax records; administering court and trust actions; and disbursing County funds.” 

Keep this in mind, folks: Absent Alfred, Bruce Wayne would be nothing more than a spoiled brat barely capable of dressing himself. Similarly, with Mr. Neal’s insight, I’m Batman; without it, I’m my father’s greatest disappointment. Speaking of:

Dean Sommer

This effort will require legal counsel, and the best part about my dad is that he’ll do it for free. Dean Sommer will retire from the practice of law when the universe experiences heat death, but that’s not to say he doesn’t have free time right now.

I went home last week to retrieve some mail, and — this is true — my father greeted me by showing off the three antique clocks he’d repaired. It was neither native intellect nor google searches that accounted for this feat, but, rather, time. Fitting but disconcerting.

His brilliance as an attorney derives from the desperate imposter syndrome that compels him to assemble hyperintelligent lawyers to actually do his work. I was briefly employed at his firm after leaving the Army; there, I witnessed firsthand my father’s pure domination of legal negotiations via a signature mix of folksy disarming humor, strategic flashes of performative anger, and a befuddling mane of long hair recalling his hippie-era sensibilities. (“It turns out you actually can fool all of the people all of the time,” he once told me in genuine disbelief.)

Divesting delinquent property owners of their vacant buildings will present inordinate legal challenges, and my dad is exactly the right guy to identify who’s better suited to do that work. His only flaw is an insufferable insistence that there is a constitutional implication on the scale of Marbury v. Madison in every menial legal dispute.    

Pamela Howard

The executive director of the Historic Albany Foundation would be the animating spirit behind Albany’s revitalization effort no matter who occupied the seat, but it just so happens that Pamela Howard was genetically engineered to hold the title at this moment in Albany’s trajectory.

For more than 50 years, HAF’s mission “has been to preserve and protect buildings that have architectural, historic or civic value, by providing technical assistance, education, and advocacy.” Ms. Howard works “closely with historic property owners, neighborhood stakeholders, private developers, elected officials and government agencies” to “protect Albany’s architectural heritage.”

Rehabilitating the city’s hundreds of vacant buildings would be a worthless exercise were they to be returned to the tax rolls in a manner that didn’t accentuate the ornate drama of Albany’s architectonic traditions. Fortunately, we have Ms. Howard’s insight, and she’s already adept in navigating the pitfalls of interagency coordination. She’s this effort’s secret sauce.

Patricia Fahy and Gabriella Romero

The Capital District’s state legislative delegation is indispensable to the Albany Plan, though I anticipate uncomfortable conversations concerning the $150 million these elected representatives advocate spending to renovate a New York State Museum that only 11 people will ever dare visit if the city’s parking and panhandling scourges aren’t resolved first.

I love Senator Patricia Fahy; she remains my political guiding light — a function of the unparalleled bedside manner to which she treats every constituent. I’m also possessed of a grudging admiration for Assemblywoman Romero, who deftly piloted the clown car full of candidates in last year’s race to represent the 109th Assembly District.

When she was previously my Common Council representative, Hon. Romero and I disagreed bitterly on a wide array of issues. But whereas she’s now a 32-year-old state assemblymember who boasts distinction as the first upstate Latina elected to the state legislature, I’m a middle-aged Caucasian who’s yet to file his 2024 tax returns on account of the competing time it takes to question my life choices. So between the two of us, you should probably listen to her. 

Corey Ellis

Corey Ellis is halfway through his third-time’s-the-charm mayoral campaign, while the office he now occupies exists in the gray area between “ceremonial” and “pointless.” Yet that doesn’t mean there isn’t a vital role for the president of the Albany Common Council right now.

What the Common Council presidency lacks in tangible power it makes up for in a lofty title and bully pulpit. In his remaining months as president, it’s my hope that Mr. Ellis will offer a full-throated endorsement of the Albany Plan and rally the entire Common Council to jump aboard our train as it rumbles out the station. Also I’m running for Common Council president as a party-unaffiliated candidate. More to follow.

Chris Churchill

I can’t argue with those who’d depict my “So swears the New Scot” column as nothing more than a work of Chris Churchill fan fiction. For years, the perspectives of the Times Union’s preeminent columnist have informed most of the temper tantrums to which The Enterprise has graciously dedicated ink. Mr. Churchill is the Capital District’s journalistic “tip of the spear” in covering city/county/state government’s machinations and will thus be indispensable in shaping public opinion about this effort. 

Now, I’ve repeatedly taken him to task for some of his past inanity, to include such aged-like-milk clairvoyance as this greatest hit: “Tear the [Central Warehouse] down, some of you say. Sorry, but that isn’t a realistic option.” Yet a recent audit of my company’s customer list reveals that Mr. Churchill once bought a bottle of my whiskey, so I won’t be issuing any further critique. The price of my integrity retails for $49.99 at your local liquor store.

Melissa Hale-Spencer

The Altamont Enterprise & Albany County Post’s longtime editor is an award-winning reporter, and her willingness to print my long-form treatments of Albany’s ailments will be critical in following the money. She’s been publishing my columns since they first appeared in the Helderbarker insert back in the ’90s. While my vocabulary has changed quite a bit since 10th grade, my insatiable need for public validation has not. So take a moment to send me your thoughts at the email address listed below.

Jeffrey Buell

There exists no greater proof that the long arc of the moral universe does not bend toward justice than the fact that Jeff Buell stands at 6 feet, 7 inches; grows facial hair like his life depends on it; and has made the pages of the Albany Business Review his second home — while I’m condemned to walk the planet as one big overcompensating trauma-response to having sat alone in the cafeteria during the slow song at every single high school dance.

I’m livid that Mr. Buell’s utterly disastrous plan to construct a downtown stadium for New York’s fifth most popular sport is gaining momentum to the taxpayers’ detriment despite the con job he pulled vis-à-vis the Central Warehouse. In the coming months, I suspect my “So swears the New Scot” column will devolve into a space dedicated solely to ad hominem indictments of Mr. Buell. But if it’s any consolation, Jeff, know that I believe envy — not imitation — is the highest form of flattery.

Walt Brady

Including Mr. Brady in this list reveals my cards; it’s the first example of my broader strategy to supplement state funding with financial resources committed by local not-for-profits. Mr. Brady is the interim executive director of the Community Loan Fund for the Capital District, which specializes “in providing loans and technical assistance to nonprofit organizations for affordable housing, human services, and/or help revitalizing your community.” 

It’s not that I’m turning my nose up at $400 million, of course, but those funds are just a “good start.”  The Albany Plan is a herculean undertaking, and organizations like the Community Loan Fund will be hugely helpful in augmenting our impact.

Bebhinn Francis and Pastor Joseph Paparone

Ms. Francis’s name is pronounced “Bevin” because Gaelic doesn’t translate well. As co-organizer of the National Union of the Homeless in Albany, she’s taken me under her wing to depict a condition — homelessness — that would otherwise be completely inaccessible to me. Her insight has fundamentally altered my understanding of how to address this issue and the many nuanced layers that define it.

Ms. Francis was herself homeless at two different periods in her life; those experiences imbued her with limitless empathy for those on whom society has turned its back.  

Meanwhile, you can tell that her colleague, fellow NUH co-organizer Pastor Joe Paparone, is using his direct line to the Almighty to summon as much divine patience as he can muster when answering my many ignorant questions, most of which boil down to some variation of “yeah but why are they homeless?” It’s he who coined the motto that’s about to become a pivotal component of my political campaign, to wit: “Ending poverty is good for business.”   

You

If the city fails, it’ll drag the county down with it, with the entire Capital District not far behind. Our fates are intertwined — culturally, economically, existentially — and unless citizens of our entire Capital Region engage in the task of rehabilitating our capital city, the future is lost.

You think that sounds too dire? Well, answer this: Are you ready to bet your suburban home’s appraised value on what happens in the City of Albany? That’s what I thought.  Let’s get started. 

Revitalization czar

The final piece in this puzzle is the as-yet-aspirational “Revitalization Czar,” to wit, the county appointee responsible for coordinating interagency collaboration among the Albany Avengers.  

The Czar would advise state officials on the allocation of funds; orchestrate the condemning, foreclosure, or seizure of properties; coordinate renovation bids and RFPs among local contractors; secure requisite project permitting; execute a legal mechanism for transferring deeds to agencies and homeowners, as applies; and develop/adhere to a plan that restores vacant properties to the tax rolls, expands homeownership among eligible low-income applicants, and disburses throughout Albany the mental-health and supportive services that unhoused members of our community require.

All of this is doable, so all of this must be done.

Go A-Team.

Jesse Sommer is a lifelong resident of Albany County. Email him at jesse@altamontenterprise.com.