Underlying all the party politics and geographic rivalries is the county budget problem. Interim King County Executive Triplett is trying to resolve a $56 million deficit in next year's budget. The shortfall is specifically affecting a county fund that operates the Sheriff's department, the courts, the jail, and public-health programs.
Making matters worse, the Howard Hanson dam, which protects the Green River Valley from flooding, was damaged during heavy rains last year. As a result, if rain were to fall as hard this winter, parts of Kent, Auburn, and Tukwila would flood. Triplett is asking for $40 million from the general fund to prepare for that possibility—in the face of next year's $56 million deficit and a projected $60 million deficit in 2011. Then there's Metro's projected $500 million shortfall over the next four years, likely leading to rate hikes and route cuts.
Alan Alabastro
Constantine’s primary-night pub party was a far cry from Hutchison’s tony Edgewater affair.
![“Dow [left] was always the adult in the room,” says Benis (right) of his former fraternity brother and law-firm partner.](http://media.seattleweekly.com/dow-but-not-out.3894314.40.jpg)
Courtesy of Christopher Benis
“Dow [left] was always the adult in the room,” says Benis (right) of his former fraternity brother and law-firm partner.
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In his conference room, surrounded by maps showing the flood zones, Triplett ticks off the problems facing the county. "You're depressing," notes his spokesperson, Carolyn Duncan, causing Triplett to quip that he can't see why anyone would even want to be County Executive right now.
But the two who do have to convince the public that they can find remedies.
"I solve problems and I fix things," Hutchison says in all her campaign appearances. As evidence, she says she brought the Seattle Symphony Orchestra back from the brink of bankruptcy during her years on the board. Hutchison joined the board in 2004, chairing it from 2006 through this past July.
Paul Meecham, SSO Executive Director from 2004 to 2006, points out that Hutchison came to the board on the heels of a $10 million donation from the Charles Simonyi Fund, of which she is still Executive Director. That donation, says Meecham, now Executive Director of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, played a huge part in salvaging the Symphony's finances.
"I'd imagine that's sort of what she's referring to," he concludes.
Hutchison has yet to present specific plans for solving the county's myriad problems. And she raised eyebrows earlier this month when she announced a press conference titled: "Susan Unveils Bipartisan Plan to Reform King County." Instead of distributing a document with bullet points on, say, cutting employee benefits or axing animal control, Hutchison announced endorsements from former Seattle Mayor Wes Uhlman and Lieutenant Governor Brad Owen.
"But where's the plan?" reporters wondered. Hutchison said the endorsements were part of her plan to bring people from both parties together to solve problems. She added that politics got in the way of making progress in other areas, arguing, for example, that light rail should have started out going across the water, not along I-5. It's still faster to take a $35 cab to Sea-Tac than to ride the $2.50 train, she added—a bizarre, apples-to-oranges comparison, to put it mildly.
But mostly her campaign has relied on inspiring distrust of the current council. This past June, the State Auditor's Office released a report which found county projects going dramatically over budget; incomplete records; and stacks of bus fares sitting on a table unsecured. The office released another audit last week, saying that the county is losing millions in its waste and sewage departments thanks to poor record-keeping and oversight.
"This is where we have to be so clear about who is responsible for this long-term structural deficit that has occurred because our expenses far outweigh our revenues," Hutchison says. "We have to put the blame where it belongs. I place it directly at the feet of my opponent, who is the chair of the County Council."
Constantine is walking a fine line, needing to convince voters that his experience better equips him to fix the county's problems, but that he shouldn't be held responsible for them at the polls. In June he held an I-understand-how-business-works press conference outside Lampreia, a Belltown restaurant he advised as an attorney. But Benis says that in their time in business together, Constantine wasn't the one watching the bottom line. Rather, he spent a good chunk of his time on politically tinged, non-lucrative projects, like protecting a West Seattle ravine from development and working on a doomed petition to keep the department store Frederick & Nelson open.
"I was just a lawyer trying to make money," Benis says. "Dow was more interested in doing right than counting pennies."
Unlike Hutchison, Constantine has gotten specific about how he intends to govern; at the beginning of August, he released a nine-part plan for resolving the county's financial mess. It includes cutting the County Council and Executive staffs, getting out of the animal-control business, and convincing employees to sign up for cheaper health-care plans.
But before he takes on any of that, Constantine sips the last of the coffee that's finally finished brewing at Great Harvest. Leaving the cafe, he walks a few blocks down California Avenue. The junction has changed dramatically since his formative years. Remnants of the older, blue-collar West Seattle remain—you can still pull tabs at the Poggie Tavern—but now there's a line out the door at pastry shop Bakery Nouveau a few doors down.
"Best bakery in the city," Constantine declares. Dressed casually (for once) in jeans and a black button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves, he's clearly at home on the westerly peninsula. But to win, he needs baristas in Bellevue to get as excited about him as the ones here.
lonstot@seattleweekly.com
With additional reporting by Lauren Lynch.
