WILL the next mayor of Baltimore have a sweeping, 25th-floor view of the Inner Harbor and all that is his realm?
Such speculation gains more credence every time Kweisi Mfume takes another small step that seems to indicate that he wants to be Baltimore's chief executive.
It happened again last week when The Sun reported that Mr. Mfume is moving into a two-bedroom condo at Harbor Court. "Now he's running for sure," ran the gossip.
Indeed, hardened politicians and observers don't believe Mr. Mfume's frequent disclaimers of non-candidacy.
They know he is in a delicate situation. Once he declares interest in the mayor's job, he's out as president and chief executive officer of the NAACP. It's a highly lucrative ($200,000 a year) and influential job you don't want to abandon until the very last minute.
Mr. Mfume can afford to wait. Indeed, he must wait: As a Baltimore County resident, he's not even eligible to run for mayor. Once the General Assembly passes legislation as expected cutting the city's residency requirement for mayoral candidates to just six months and the governor signs it, Mr. Mfume can assess his situation.
Until then, he'd be a fool to imperil his current job by openly discussing any mayoral aspirations.
Would he like to be mayor? Yes, indeed. Here's when I knew for certain:
Early in 1996, Mr. Mfume lunched with editors, executives and editorial writers of this newspaper in recognition of his selection as The Sun's Marylander of the Year for 1995.
It was a routine discussion about Mr. Mfume's new role in resurrecting the floundering NAACP, about his former job as a Baltimore congressman, about his views on issues confronting Congress and the president.
Then someone asked the magic question: If you were mayor, what would you do to reverse Baltimore's sad decline?
You could see the energy level in Mr. Mfume soar. He was galvanized. Electric. Out spewed creative ideas and an excitement that was impossible to contain.
Walking out of that session, my boss turned to me and echoed what had already crossed my mind: This guy really wants to be mayor.
It was so clear on that day. Three years later, an editor who had been at the luncheon told me that he, too, knew for certain after listening to Mr. Mfume in 1996 that he had a burning desire to one day serve as mayor.
The opportunity is almost upon him. This is Mr. Mfume's year.
The field of potentials is weak. The strongest candidate to date is Mr. Mfume's cousin, City Council President Lawrence Bell. He's a young, somewhat naive and pleasant fellow who lacks the "gravitas", as one city official put it, to run Baltimore. Indeed, Mr. Bell is viewed by many polished politicians as a lightweight.
He could surprise us if he's elected mayor, but most influential city leaders don't want to take such a big risk. Given Baltimore's desperate plight, a heavyweight candidate is just about the city's only hope.
That pretty much narrows the field to Mr. Mfume, state Comptroller William Donald Schaefer, Rep. Elijah Cummings and Del. Howard "Pete" Rawlings.
The last two individuals don't want to leave their current jobs.
Mr. Schaefer relished the job of mayor for 15 years. He cares so much for this city. But at age 77, with bad knees, he no longer has the energy to take on such a draining task -- except as a last resort. Only if Mr. Mfume declines could you see a last-minute Schaefer candidacy.
Most of the major political players in Baltimore (and Annapolis) are quietly urging -- even pleading with -- Mr. Mfume to run. Chances are he will. But he's going to take his time making that decision.
Accepting the assignment of reviving a depressed and troubled city would make Mr. Mfume's rebuilding efforts at the NAACP look like child's play. But Mr. Mfume is deeply committed to Baltimore. He is driven to make a difference. What better way than as mayor? Barry Rascovar is a deputy editorial page editor.
Pub Date: 3/14/99