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All in all, when he arrived in Washington, Williams looked about as likely to become mayor as a crack smoker (well, O.K., pick another drug). But by the mid-'90s, the roofs on many city schools were caving in. Thousands of people were dying of AIDS, but management was so abysmal that millions in federal AIDS dollars sat unspent. At perhaps the city's saddest, most surreal moment, morgue officials said they didn't have enough money to refrigerate the dead. Outraged residents--even some hard-core Barryites--began to demand change. Finally, Congress and the White House stepped in, and over the next few months most of the powers of the mayor, city council and school board were handed over to the unelected control board.
As CFO, Williams brought change. Not alone, of course. The fiery economy (and concomitant soaring tax revenues) helped most. But Williams brought accountability to a city where tax officials had literally left returns strewn across the basement of a city building. Under Williams, vendors got paid. Tax refunds got issued on time. The morgue got cold again. Residents in both white and black Washington began to thank him for little things like timely trash collection, even when he alone wasn't responsible.
Williams had also been careful to conduct community meetings (more than 150 in all) to explain his austerity measures in plain language. A draft-Williams movement began--not in a white establishmentarian's home this time, but in struggling Ward 7. In May, after months of saying he wouldn't run, he decided to go for it. The campaign, so far, has been a dream. Contributions flow in like lobbyists into Congress. Williams' main primary opponents are three longtime council members forced to answer at every stop for the various crises the city suffered. Last week opponents began raising 11th-hour questions about Williams' background--before Yale, he experimented with marijuana and hippiedom. And even after he traded his tie-dyes for bow ties, he has been flighty, leaving most of his jobs within a couple of years. Others complain that he cut procedural corners when he took over city finances.
None of the charges have damaged him so far (and in fact may have humanized the technocrat a bit). If he wins, Williams' biggest challenge will be to convince Washingtonians that he is mayor for all of them; in some parts of the city, his get-tough policies and conservative mien have given the impression that he's the white candidate. According to a recent Washington Post poll, he leads a large field, with 37% of Democrats overall; council member Kevin Chavous is second, with 20%. Among black Democrats, however, who are expected to make up more than two-thirds of those voting next week, Williams' lead slips to 28% over Chavous' 25%. Williams will focus the last days of his campaign on black voters. He often notes that saving Washington--and winning self-government back from Congress--has broad racial significance. Under Barry, he says, "the government of Washington took on the character of an African-American-managed enterprise. Quite frankly, I think it is vitally important we show that this can be the best-run operation in the world."