Memphis Charter Commission

On one end of a long conference table in City Hall sit three older, white men. They are dressed in suits and each of them has gray hair. Across from them are six middle-aged people: two black men, three black women, and one white woman.

Such was the scene at the first meeting of the new Memphis Charter Commission last week, providing perhaps a visual clue to how much Memphis has changed since the 1960s.

The commission, initiated by a group calling themselves Concerned Citizens of Memphis, will review the city’s charter and recommend changes much as a similar commission did 40 years ago. And the seven-member board, including councilman Myron Lowery, former radio personality Janis Fullilove, and former Memphis City Schools board member Willie Brooks, had invited members of the original Charter Commission to explain how Memphis changed from a five-seat city commission to the 13-member City Council Memphis uses today.

“We were trying for a strong mayor/council form of government. Before, five commissioners were elected at-large,” said Judge Harry Wellford. But that system put minority and female leaders at a disadvantage. “Only one group of people — white men — had been elected. … Many of us felt we needed to have district representation.”

The five-member City Commission was enacted in 1909 and ran city government until 1968. At that time, the original Charter Commission’s changes — proposed and accepted two years earlier — were put into effect.

“We discussed how much the City Council should be paid and whether it should be a part-time job or a full-time job,” said Lewis Donaldson, the only living commission member to also sit on the council. They determined the first council members would get paid $6,000 a year to prevent career politicians from holding the seats.

“We decided the council should be a citizens’ council. A salary of $6,000 required you to have another job,” he said.

Donaldson, Wellford, and Tommy Powell (the third “old” Charter Commission member at the meeting) said they thought the new commission should focus on pensions, a living wage, term limits, and whether the council should have authority on contracts over a certain amount of money.

The mayor is the sole contractual authority for the city, but the council sets the budget. Hypothetically, the mayor should not contract above the amount specified in the budget.

City attorney Sara Hall also addressed the commission, presenting them with background on what the document is and how it functions. She also explained that ambiguities such as the mayor and council’s joint authority over city funds can be viewed as a protection against government corruption.

“There are gray areas in the charter,” said Hall. “Everyone has their own opinion whether you should avoid gray areas or keep them in the charter. … [Longtime city attorney] Dorothy [Osradker] felt they were part of the whole political process.”

For instance, the mayor appoints his division directors. But their appointment — and their termination — has to be approved by the council, so the mayor cannot simply choose anyone he likes or control them by threatening their job.

“By practical matter,” people in those director positions “usually resign,” said Hall, “but it’s an anti-corruption thing.”

In the coming weeks, the Charter Commission will continue to hear from other members of the previous commission, but the meeting seemed like a good start. After some initial confusion, Wellford explained that the commission should look at governance structure, such as term limits, rather than trying to set policy, which is the City Council’s job.

“None of us was able to foresee all the things that would happen,” said Wellford, “and neither will you.”

But perhaps most interesting at this stage in the commission is simply the make-up. When the original Charter Commission began meeting, an African American couldn’t get elected in an at-large race. But most of the newest charter commissioners did just that. Even though they ran by City Council district, voters chose one from each district.

It could be the result of a simple population shift, a 180-degree change in the 40 years since the last Charter Commission. And if that’s the case, maybe we’re just as stuck on color as we were then. I don’t think anyone would argue Memphis is where it needs to be in terms of race and equality. But I hope some progress has been made.

I guess the question we should be asking ourselves is: Have we changed our minds — or just our demographics?

Many friends, neighbors, and strangers have asked me recently why I’m running for the Memphis Charter Commission. Actually, that’s a lie, but if you’re getting into politics you have to start somewhere.

The truth is, like 32 other people, one reason I’m running for the charter commission is because it’s there.

It’s there, in case you weren’t paying attention, because organizers obtained more than 10,485 signatures on petitions in 2004. Contrary to popular belief and some newspaper stories, there was no public referendum. The charter commission was created by petition signatures of 2.5 percent of the registered voters in Memphis — the first and only time that has been done.

At any rate, the charterists said they gathered thousands more signatures than they needed. I don’t doubt it. We live in a time of unprecedented ability to identify and organize communities of football fans, ping-pong players, or fed-up citizens thanks to the Internet. Gathering valid signatures still involves knocking on doors and standing on street corners because electronic signatures don’t count, at least not yet. But spreading the word and building the base are easier than they were in 1966 or 1996.

We also live in a time of unprecedented apathy when it comes to voting in local elections. In 1991, 248,093 people voted in the Memphis election for mayor and City Council. In 2003, only 104,852 people voted in the city election.

The city charter doesn’t say anything about petitioning for a charter review commission. The guidance comes from the Tennessee Constitution, which says a charter commission can be created by petition of at least 10 percent of those voting in the most recent general municipal election. In 2004, that meant 10,485 signatures.

By coincidence or design, charter commission organizers got cranking when the magic number was the lowest it had been in modern history. If petition organizers had had their way, charter commission members would have been chosen in December 2004 in conjunction with a District 7 Memphis school-board runoff election that drew a turnout of less than 5 percent.

The turnout, of course, might have been higher with charter commission candidates on the ballot. But the question was moot. The election commission reopened the qualifying process and bumped the election back nearly two years to August 3rd.

Meanwhile, another petition drive was brewing to recall Mayor Willie Herenton. The charter says a recall election requires petition signatures of at least 10 percent of the voters in the last mayoral election. (In a municipal election, some voters don’t vote for mayor, so the numbers are slightly different.) But before the petition drive started, city attorney Sara Hall said the state constitution trumps the city charter as to recall requirements. The constitutional standard is 15 percent of the registered voters in the city, which translates to something like 64,000 signatures. For whatever reasons (the section was written in 1953), the constitution imposes a higher standard for removing someone from elected office than it does for a charter or amendment.

The August election figures to draw a big turnout because the ballot is jammed with candidates for Congress, governor, state legislature, county offices, and judgeships. Oddly enough, the trigger for the charter commission election is the Memphis City Council seat vacated by Janet Hooks, the lone city office on the ballot.

The election of charter commission members may still be confusing. For one thing, voters haven’t done it before. Candidates run by district but are elected at large — in other words, you can vote for seven of them. What the commission will do or even discuss — term limits, pensions, the balance of powers, MLGW, whatever — won’t be known until the members are chosen. Any recommendations must pass legal muster and be approved by voters in a future election.

For a highly readable history of the charter and how it came to be, go to the library and get David M. Tucker’s book, Memphis Since Crump: Bossism, Blacks, and Civic Reformers 1954-1968.

My name is John Branston and I approved this message and didn’t even have to pay for it. And if you see me pounding in signs outside the election commission, please hit me with a hammer.