The politics of development, especially when billiions of dollars and the stake of an entire community are at stake, are never a pretty thing to watch. This week, however, the saga of Coney Island redevelopment, which has had many ups and down took a turn toward the ugly and the personal. Someone–it is suggested that the “someone” is working with Thor Equities–gave the New York Post a story about how Coney Island USA’s Dick Zigun had an “apartment” at the group’s headquarters. (The “apartment” is really a sofabed, but that’s a technicality.) Because the building was purchased with city funds last year, it is now said that Mr. Zigun was living on the taxpayer’s tab. Of course, Mr. Zigun should have stopping sleeping in office after the building was purchased using city funds and, in fact, he’s already moved out of the building. Now, there is dark talk of further investigation and the subtext is that city money may be taken from his organization. Is it just happenstance that, less than a week ago, Mr. Zigun publicly came out against the city’s revised Coney Island zoning strategy?
We won’t suggest that Mr. Zigun did not commit a technical violation by sleeping on his couch. He admitted that he “might be guilty of some wrongdoing” and moved out immediately. The more interesting question is how it is that the New York Post came to write a story about Mr. Zigun’s living situation, which was known in Coney circles, less than a week after Mr. Zigun announced he was quitting the Coney Island Development Corporation Board because he feels the redone redevelopment plan is a “betrayal” of the amusement industry. Coincidence? Hardly. “I threw a bomb last Wednesday, so I’m fair game,” Mr. Zigun told us about the curious timing, saying that he believes the story was given to a New York Post reporter by someone connected to Thor Equities. He also noted that it appeared in print the same day a story suggesting the Cyclone roller coaster managed by Astroland was injuring riders.
We’re not excusing the fact that Mr. Zigun should probably have given up the sofabed sooner. What we’re suggesting is that the story was linked to his attack on changes in the redevelopment plan. “I think the amusement industry has the right to fight,” Mr. Zigun said. “I’ve opened my big mouth and I’m making trouble for myself.”
What we’re calling the Sofagate story would not appear to be a weird coincidence of timing, given that Mr. Zigun has been living on his couch for more than a decade. It is a clearly payback to someone who spoke out in a very public way about a public policy with which he disagrees and upon whose outcome billions of dollars are riding. In the vengeful and often ugly way in which Brooklyn politics are played, that outspokenness has forced Mr. Zigun onto a friend’s couch and may now threaten his organization’s funding.
The story may be legitimate, but the way it came to light isn’t particularly gratifying and casts a light on how damaging hardball politics can be. Here’s hoping that the rest of the long Coney debate will be conducted in a less personal way.
