By Keegan Hamilton
By Albert Samaha
By Village Voice staff
By Tessa Stuart
By Albert Samaha
By Steve Weinstein
By Devon Maloney
By Tessa Stuart
Bus drivers Union Chief Larry Hanley is certainly the most outspokenif not the onlyprogressive, white, working-class labor leader on largely conservative Staten Island. This has placed him on a steady collision course with politicians from Rudy Giuliani to former borough president Guy Molinari. Hanley, 45, a big man who relishes a good fight, has never shied from battle.
This month, however, his fight is with his erstwhile friends in the leadership of the decidedly liberal Working Families Party, the pro-union group that Hanley helped to found in 1998.
Party leaders have been chewing the carpet this month since Hanley publicly denounced their designated candidate for a Staten Island assembly seat. The internal squabble has irked party officials more than usual because it comes at the precise moment that they are trying to build their strategy for this year's gubernatorial election.
It also takes place just as state comptroller and gubernatorial candidate Carl McCall boosted the party's stature by calling it the preferred alternative to Ray Harding's patronage-seeking, Giuliani-endorsing Liberal Party. So the last thing party leaders want is a public fight with one of their hitherto stalwart backers, particularly over an endorsement for a little-known assembly seat on Staten Island.
For Hanley, however, it's a fight worth having because the issue goes to the core of why the party was started in the first place.
Last summer, then mayor Giuliani got a strong taste of the Hanley treatment at one of his final town meetings in Staten Island's Tottenville. Giuliani had every reason to expect to be on friendly ground, and the gathering was going according to its tightly controlled script until several dozen city bus drivers, members of the Amalgamated Transit Union, started demanding the mayor explain why his administration was subsidizing new private bus routes. The mayor's people decided to allow a single question and Hanley lumbered to the microphone. Private bus lines, he told Giuliani, have long been a corruption hazard for mayors past, and the recent deal between the administration and a bus firm that was also a major mayoral campaign contributor had a definite taint to it. He got no further.
"I don't talk to people that accuse me of corruption. That's it," snapped the mayor, cutting him off. When Hanley kept trying to talk, a swarm of cops surrounded him. The standoff soon ended with Hanley and his drivers walking out, but the mayor continued to rage. "You all look too irresponsible to be bus drivers. You're a bunch of idiots," he shouted at their backs.
Ever since his election in 1987 on an insurgent platform to head his 1300-member union local, Larry Hanley's confrontational style has made enemies. An ex-bus driver who got fed up with the secretive way his union was run, he is Ralph Kramden with progressive politics and a savvy sense of organizing. Molinari became so irate after Hanley criticized his ties to nonunion bus companies that he held a fundraiser for Hanley's opponent in a union election (Hanley won, by a two-to-one margin).
Although transit unions have traditionally veered away from opposing fare hikesreasoning that fares pay members' salariesHanley has always fought high fares as bad for both labor and the riding public. In 1995, Hanley orchestrated a successful campaign by riders and unionists to roll back bus fares from $4 to $3. The result was an explosion in bus ridership. He has brought an often zany creativity to his causes. He once hired a horse-drawn stagecoach to slowly clop along Manhattan streets with a sign, "Is this the future of Staten Island transit?" When commuter buses sat in stalled traffic on the way to the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, Hanley hired a helicopter to take photos of new express bus lanes at the Lincoln Tunnel and then distributed them to riders with the question, "How come we can't get this for Staten Island?"
"He is one of the most creative and energetic labor leaders in the city, a combination of Cecil B. DeMille and [the late Transport Workers Union leader] John Lawe," said Gene Russianoff of the Straphanger's Campaign.
But not all of Hanley's challenges to authority have worked out as planned. In 1997, frustrated that the county's Democratic committee was too cozy with the dominant Republicans, Hanley suggested to city labor leaders that unions could become the dominant voice in the party if it filled hundreds of vacant committee positions with their own members. Many leaders, including Central Labor Council president Brian McLaughlin, bought into the idea, and scores of union members spent the hot summer gathering petition signatures, winning more than 500 committee slots.
High-level labor officials, however, later reached a power-sharing settlement with county Democratic officials. Hanley viewed the rapprochement as a sellout; others said Hanley misconstrued the original strategy. In any event, that fall's Democratic county meeting was marked by angry pushing and shoving. One of Hanley's members fell, or was pushed, down a flight of stairs. A key player in the talks with the Democratic leadership, according to Hanley, was plumbers union political director Jimmy Hart, a mainstream Democrat with close ties to the state's labor establishment and little use for Hanley's radical ideas.