Mr. Messingers business is at the northern extremity of the projected rebuild area on the west side of South Sepulveda.
He loves his store. He loves the way he is making his living and supporting his family.
No Chance
I mean, he really does not want to go away.
He is outraged the term he usually employs over the often odious concept of eminent domain.
He cannot understand the concept of City Hall and its designated developer being legally empowered to swoop down out of the sky and steal his business even though he does not want to sell.
Round up Allies
A cheerleader and an organizer, Mr. Messinger wants his fellow businessmen to be as aroused, as downright angry and focused as he is.
Unlike numerous yahoos who participated in the third meeting of the Advisory Committee, when Mr. Messinger addressed the developer and the committee, his conduct reflected the etiquette he learned as a child.
He relies on the muscularity of his words, not antics, to effectively convey his views.
Distinct from the Majority
On Tuesday, this distinguished him from the boors who comprised the majority of the audience. A woman sitting near me, for example, should have been taken outdoors by a security guard and spanked.
I digress.
When, at length, it was the turn of the colorful developer Bob Champion to respond to the estimated 75 complaints that had been aired, he stepped to the podium with the air of Sinatra or Garland a grizzly show business veteran.
A Worthwhile Trip
How ever this redevelopment proposition turns out at City Hall, the experience will have been an adventurous one, purely because of the immensely entertaining Mr. Champion.
He strikes me as more showman than developer.
The next time I need to converse with any previous Mrs. Noonan, I shall delegate Mr. Champion to stand in for me.
Check That, Please
I will be disappointed if the certain previous Mrs. Noonan doesnt have a check in the mail for me, marked For Pain and Suffering Inflicted, even before Mr. Champion returns to his Wilshire Boulevard office.
I settled back on Tuesday night and listened to him orate for 60 slick-sailing minutes.
Mr. Champion is smooth.
Abe the Champ
President Lincoln would have consulted with him before delivering the Gettysburg Address.
In jotting down notes, I mused about Mr. Champions command of his audience, how ingenuously he silenced a crowd that wanted to let the air out of all of his tires.
I reflected on his recent appearances in Culver City, his seamless, mid-key attempts to sell South Sepulveda to crowds that make him feel unloved and unwelcome.
The Champion Method
Unlike his interrogators, who would remand him to Developer Jail if they could, Mr. Champion unfailingly replies with a jar of honey in each hand, not to mention on his tongue. He is a latter-day William Jennings Champion.
In the middle of my sentimental musings, Mr. Champion silkily segued that is his way into a folksy little Once Upon a Time story.
Chapter One I Think
How did I come to find myself in Culver City? Mr. Champion asked, not rhetorically.
He explained that several years ago, he entered a bid on a Downtown development. But he was not chosen as the builder.
However, Susan Evans, the now-retired Director of Community Development, knew of Mr. Champions work first-hand from her years in Burbank.
In the Beginning
Said she to him: Would you be interested in considering projects in other parts of our community?
Said he to her: Affirmative.
Said she to him: And away we go.
Lo and behold, the Evans-Champion tour led them into the unsuspecting South Sepulveda Boulevard/Sunkist Park neighborhood where the city was eager to upgrade the 12 1/2 acres from Sawtelle to Jefferson.
Anybody Paying Attention?
This was Mr. Champions version on Tuesday night of How I Came to Love Culver City.
Enter the ever-alert Mr. Messinger.
He jogged my memory.
Oops, a Different Yarn
He recalled that Mr. Champion romanced the crowd with quite a different version last Dec. 5 in the first community-wide meeting with Mr. Champion at El Rincon School.
How I Came to Love Culver City, Previous Chapter, by Bob Champion.
Mr. Messinger remembered Mr. Champion relating that several years ago, he was driving north on the typically teeming 405 Freeway.
Frustrated by the slow pace, he bailed at Jefferson, and found himself in the middle of what he might have called a developers paradise.
Can This Be Happening?
Surrounded by floods of mom-and-pop businesses, in typically aging buildings dating back to the middle of the last century, Mr. Champion suddenly was visited by images of drastically updated commerce and a trunkful of old-fashioned green dollar-signs.
Whereupon he conveyed his vision to City Hall. Soon after, they were dating, professionally speaking, a flirty-eyed twosome.
Which One?
Both stories cannot be true, Mr. Messinger has astutely concluded.
Until the truth is mined, Mr. Champions integrity is on trial. The curious jury is stroking its chins.
