Jake Bono’s grandfather arrived in the United States in 1929 with the same dreams that all immigrants do: He would be able to work hard, make a living, and own his property.

Grandfather Bono, who emigrated from Sicily, started his own sawdust company in 1933, one of the first businesses established in the Willetts Point neighborhood in the borough of Queens, N.Y. Known mostly to locals as the “Iron Triangle,” the company fits neatly into a bustling area of industrial and auto parts businesses.[1]

Bono Sawdust Company manufactures different types of sweeping compound—all environmentally friendly—to help absorb oil spills, as well as airborne bacteria and dust. They supply sawdust to auto part suppliers, janitorial and building companies, and horse farms for animal bedding. The business thrives in a community where auto parts are a major part of the local economy.

“My grandfather helped to build this economy, and he helped build America,” said Jake Bono, now president of Bono Sawdust.

Over the past 70 years, like many businesses in Willetts Point, Bono Sawdust has become a place where newcomers to America can get steady employment and settle into their new lives with the support of the community. Currently, a third of the company’s employees are new immigrants.

“We have one guy from Ecuador, who we helped by sponsoring him to come here and work,” boasts Jake Bono. “We also had a guy from India who worked here for several years, but he was able to learn English and got a better job driving a cab. I had no problem with that, because I would never want to stand in the way of someone else’s prosperity.”

It’s unfortunate that Bono’s philosophy on prosperity does not translate to the City of New York and its developer friends.

In November 2004, in what Jake Bono calls a “big slap in the face,” the City of New York sought to turn Willetts Point into a massive redevelopment area where luxury condominiums and high-end retail shops would replace the thriving Iron Triangle businesses—and the City Council was not afraid to abuse its power of eminent domain to make that happen.

The City expressed its heightened desire to “redevelop” the 48-acre area east of Shea Stadium[2]— which happens to be home to about 225 businesses and 1,300 employees.[3]

It’s also no surprise that developers have coveted this area for decades, given its close proximity to two major airports and numerous highways.

Bono has joined the Willetts Point Businessmen’s Group to fight what is happening in cities all across the country: the use of eminent domain to push out thriving small businesses in order to make way for richer people, paying more in taxes.

The proposed luxury redevelopment would mean, of course, that businesses such as Bono Sawdust would have to move out. But the company is a lot more than a parcel of land—it symbolizes the American dream of one immigrant, who has helped many other immigrants realize theirs.

Perhaps most importantly of all, says Jake Bono, “It would mean that we would all be out of work.” The businesses in Willetts Point would quite literally have nowhere to go if forced out by eminent domain. “There are no empty lots; nothing for the City to give us as a relocation place in New York.”

Jake Bono says that his grandfather would be devastated by the fact that his grandson is now fighting to keep property that has been in the family for three generations. Jake knows one thing that all American property owners know, but greedy cities and developers do not: “You have nothing to work for if you have don’t have property.”

Hoping to pass on the philosophy to his immigrant employees that property rights are the foundation of all our rights, Jake Bono is committed to preventing the City from invoking eminent domain. He is joined by several other Willetts Point business owners, who will continue to be featured in CastleWatch’s Neighborhood Series.

Jake Bono’s grandfather arrived in the United States in 1929 with the same dreams that all immigrants do: He would be able to work hard, make a living, and own his property.

Grandfather Bono, who emigrated from Sicily, started his own sawdust company in 1933, one of the first businesses established in the Willetts Point neighborhood in the borough of Queens, N.Y. Known mostly to locals as the “Iron Triangle,” the company fits neatly into a bustling area of industrial and auto parts businesses.[1]

Bono Sawdust Company manufactures different types of sweeping compound—all environmentally friendly—to help absorb oil spills, as well as airborne bacteria and dust. They supply sawdust to auto part suppliers, janitorial and building companies, and horse farms for animal bedding. The business thrives in a community where auto parts are a major part of the local economy.

“My grandfather helped to build this economy, and he helped build America,” said Jake Bono, now president of Bono Sawdust.

Over the past 70 years, like many businesses in Willetts Point, Bono Sawdust has become a place where newcomers to America can get steady employment and settle into their new lives with the support of the community. Currently, a third of the company’s employees are new immigrants.

“We have one guy from Ecuador, who we helped by sponsoring him to come here and work,” boasts Jake Bono. “We also had a guy from India who worked here for several years, but he was able to learn English and got a better job driving a cab. I had no problem with that, because I would never want to stand in the way of someone else’s prosperity.”

It’s unfortunate that Bono’s philosophy on prosperity does not translate to the City of New York and its developer friends.

In November 2004, in what Jake Bono calls a “big slap in the face,” the City of New York sought to turn Willetts Point into a massive redevelopment area where luxury condominiums and high-end retail shops would replace the thriving Iron Triangle businesses—and the City Council was not afraid to abuse its power of eminent domain to make that happen.

The City expressed its heightened desire to “redevelop” the 48-acre area east of Shea Stadium[2]— which happens to be home to about 225 businesses and 1,300 employees.[3]

It’s also no surprise that developers have coveted this area for decades, given its close proximity to two major airports and numerous highways.

Bono has joined the Willetts Point Businessmen’s Group to fight what is happening in cities all across the country: the use of eminent domain to push out thriving small businesses in order to make way for richer people, paying more in taxes.

The proposed luxury redevelopment would mean, of course, that businesses such as Bono Sawdust would have to move out. But the company is a lot more than a parcel of land—it symbolizes the American dream of one immigrant, who has helped many other immigrants realize theirs.

Perhaps most importantly of all, says Jake Bono, “It would mean that we would all be out of work.” The businesses in Willetts Point would quite literally have nowhere to go if forced out by eminent domain. “There are no empty lots; nothing for the City to give us as a relocation place in New York.”

Jake Bono says that his grandfather would be devastated by the fact that his grandson is now fighting to keep property that has been in the family for three generations. Jake knows one thing that all American property owners know, but greedy cities and developers do not: “You have nothing to work for if you have don’t have property.”

Hoping to pass on the philosophy to his immigrant employees that property rights are the foundation of all our rights, Jake Bono is committed to preventing the City from invoking eminent domain. He is joined by several other Willetts Point business owners, who will continue to be featured in CastleWatch’s Neighborhood Series.

As the fight against eminent domain abuse grows, cities and developers are constantly forced to come up with new, roundabout ways to make their claims of “blight” legitimate. “Blight,” of course, carries with it the power of eminent domain, which the government will invariably use to force out home and business owners.

One growing trend is known as “purposeful neglect,” in which cities refuse to perform basic services-filling potholes, sewer upkeep and even telephone line maintenance–allowing the area to fall into disrepair so it can then be unfairly labeled as “blighted.”

This strategy of government neglect is in full force in Willets Point, a bustling area in Queens, N.Y. Some 225 businesses, which fill the city coffers with millions in tax revenue,[1] are forced to shovel snow themselves, go without phone service when it rains, and generally operate without anything resembling a police force to patrol the neighborhood.[2]

The City no doubt turns this blind eye in the hopes that one out of several competing development companies will turn the 48 acres near Shea Stadium into “luxury” town homes, retail shops, a hotel and a conference center.[3]

Though the area, known as the “Iron Triangle,” is mostly comprised of auto-related businesses, many others flourish there as well. Fodera Foods has been in business since Anthony Fodera’s grandfather began the company as a grocery in the 1930s, after immigrating to the United States from Sicily.[4] The company distributes baking goods all over the City, such as flour, jam, shortening and sugar.[5] They moved to Willetts Point in the early 1970s when they needed more space to handle their ever-growing demand.

Fodera’s grandfather often inspired his children and grandchildren with stories of his excitement and expectations of moving to America and partaking in this grand land of opportunity. He moved to this country with nothing but $20 in his pocket and the dream that he would live in a free society. But now, Anthony Fodera says, “His dream has become my nightmare.”[6]

Fodera, who serves as President, says that despite his $1 million inventory and $160,000 per year in property taxes,[7] the City refuses to carry out the normal upkeep that any city needs to keep it habitable, safe and looking fresh. He chalks it up to purposeful neglect- an excuse to label the area as “blighted”.

“This is a vibrant area in the first place, even though the City refuses to do improvements,” Fodera said in a phone interview from his Willets Point office. “Just because we aren’t Gucci or Armani, that apparently means we aren’t good enough to have businesses here. It’s nothing but greedy politicians and developers wanting to leave some sort of ‘legacy.’”

But Fodera and his company, with more than 55 employees, including multiple family members, have withstood more than their share of greediness. The first attempt to run the businesses out came when Fodera Foods first moved into the area. The New York Mets attempted to build a stadium there, but eventually settled on a different, nearby location. Next came Donald Trump’s football team, the Jersey Generals, which tried to set up a playing field there. Later, the New York Jets saw the area as a prime location for their professional franchise, but luckily for Fodera and his business neighbors, that attempt also fell through. The latest threat came when the City of New York sought to host the ­­2012 Olympic games, but to the relief of Fodera, it lost that bid to London.[8]

Fodera can see why the area is so attractive to potential businesses—just like many other small business owners around the country on land desired by politically connected developers. “I picked this location for my company because it’s accessible by the major thoroughfares, it has a good labor force, and it has a close proximity to LaGuardia and Kennedy Airports.”

Those reasons are precisely why this passionate, family business owner is refusing to give in to the greedy demands of the City, that he hand his land over to higher-revenue businesses. “I do not want to leave,” Fodera said. “And I know I may not even win this fight, but I am completely committed to fighting everything they want to do.”

The fight to keep his business is so deeply ingrained that it’s wound up costing him more money and stress than he could have ever possibly imagined. In order to keep his business, Fodera has organized with his neighbors to form the Willets Point Businessmen’s Group, which is focused on saving the area’s businesses and some 1,800 jobs that are in the area. Additionally, the Group has hired a lobbyist, Queens native Peter Vallone, to begin communications with the City Council. And a public relations firm is assisting them in getting their simple message out—they aren’t going anywhere.

Fodera says that since that the City won’t put his hard-earned tax dollars to good use to fix pot holes, sewage problems, sanitary and other infrastructure issues (which are precisely what tax dollars are intended to do), the current Willets Point businesses don’t want to invest in improvements themselves—if they’re taken by eminent domain, there’s the real possibility they’d never get their money back.

In previous years, Fodera has wanted desperately to invest in his own business so that he could stay competitive with other food distribution companies, but he and his family chose not to pay for the extensive list of improvements, for fear that all would be lost.[9] Instead, his energy and funds are being directed towards saving the plot of land on which the business sits.

To add insult to injury, Fodera has had to face a multitude of other issues in the fight to keep the property he already rightfully owns. For instance, his property value alone has decreased considerably due to the fact that the City refuses to use the locally generated tax dollars to perform normal neighborhood maintenance.

At this point, the only information the City is willing to divulge is that it has narrowed down the number of development firms to seven, one of which will be chosen sometime in November.[10] Mayor Michael Bloomberg and former Mayor Rudolph Giuliani are firmly behind the so-called “redevelopment project,” along with the local Economic Development Corporation which will oversee the proposal[11]—as long as it is not stopped by the deep commitment of Fodera and his neighbors.

“I say ‘NO’ to being forced out by City Hall to enrich wealthy developers,” Fodera wrote in a letter to the Castle Coalition. “Eminent domain is a harsh remedy to a problem we didn’t cause. It’s a forced sale. This represents an unholy alliance between local governments and developers. In my view, this is a modern day version of the ‘robber barons.’”

The Castle Coalition will continue to assist Fodera and his neighbors—and anyone around the country&mdash
;in their grassroots battle against eminent domain for private gain.

To contact the Willetts Point Businessmen’s Group, please contact Scott Gastel at Sheinkopf Communications, the Public Affairs firm that is helping Fodera and his neighbors. (www.sheinkopf.com)

“It was a total stealth election,” said Claude Kinser, an Ozark, Mo., resident and member of the Land Clearance for Redevelopment Authority.[1]

Without even realizing it, the residents of the small town between Springfield and Branson voted for a grandiose redevelopment project that would replace many middle class homes with new condos and fancy retail shops.

In February 2004, by a relatively small margin, Ozark residents established a Land Clearance for Redevelopment Authority.[2] As they approached the ballot box, many of the voters thought they were approving an effort to clean up a specific section of the city, a dilapidated trailer park known to cause numerous health and safety issues in the area.

What they did not realize, however, was that the approved measure gave license to the Ozark City Council to purchase, condemn, redevelop and sell “blighted” properties—which didn’t meant just the trailer park.[3]

Residents did not fully realize that “blighted,” under Missouri law, could mean virtually anything, from the design of a house to the absence of rain gutters—characteristics that could easily be found in any neighborhood in America. And who could blame them? They voted in good faith to turn a tiny part of their community around, and wound up completely blindsided.

The original plan, as sold to residents, was to assist tenants in a trailer park that had been experiencing problems with trash, sewage and nesting critters.[4] The tenants as well as surrounding residents were looking forward to a clean up, but what they got instead was a kick-out.

In the end, the LCRA had the power to acquire properties in some 47 acres,[5] for reasons such as trash in gullies, weed-covered drainage ditches and a faulty storm water system[6]—problems that are supposed to be fixed in the first place by the local government, funded by tax dollars.

Within a year, residents of the trailer park found themselves looking for another place to live, through no choice of their own.

“It’s such a cute community,” said resident Marcy Gibson. “Why do you tear it down and make it a metropolitan area?”[7]

Luckily for some residents in Ozark, many people became active in fighting the proposed development. So far, 10 homes (though none in the trailer park) have been saved from the government’s wrecking ball.[8]

As for the residents of the trailer park, they were forced to move and look for affordable housing elsewhere. According to Claude Kinser, many of them had to move as far as St. Louis just so they could afford shelter—and just so some developers could make more money for the tax hungry City Council.

“‘Blight’ taints the whole system,” said Kinser.[9]

Sadly, this story of low-income residents being kicked out of their homes is nothing new in the world of eminent domain abuse. Across the country, home and small business owners are blindsided by their own city governments—and must fight hard to stop them. Though a success story for the activists who fought to save the 10 homes, we mustn’t forget those who get left behind because of eminent domain abuse. The Castle Coalition will continue to fight for everyone who may fall victim to such abuse.

When Castle Coalition members hear the words “City Council,” they most likely flash to images of tax-hungry bureaucrats scheming to take their homes and small businesses for someone else’s private gain. Ask virtually any property owner who has been threatened or intimidated with the use of eminent domain, and their image of their own city council or other local government agencies is almost never a positive one.

In February 2004, voters in Ozark, Mo., approved the creation of a Land Clearance for Redevelopment Authority (“LCRA”). The voters wrongfully thought they were approving an effort to clean up a local dilapidated trailer park, but in reality, they found they had swung the door wide open to eminent domain abuse.

This is the point at which most property owners wage war against their local government, fighting for what is rightfully theirs and making major efforts to stop the proposed redevelopment projects. It’s often an us-against-them proposition.

As it turns out, under state law, the LCRA is a local agency that also has the power of eminent domain, and the vote had authorized a “blight” designation not just on the trailer park but on the entire neighborhood surrounding it. This way, the City could bring in more tax revenue by enabling a massive redevelopment project to be built over the area.

This is the point at which most property owners wage war against their local government, fighting for what is rightfully theirs and making major efforts to stop the proposed redevelopment projects. It’s often an us-against-them proposition.

In the case of Ozark, Mo., the property owners were joined by—pleasant surprise—one of the board members of the LCRA.

The single, dissenting vote against the LCRA’s proposed redevelopment was Claude Kinser, who had joined the board in hopes that he would truly contribute to bettering his own community. But when the Council voted to use eminent domain to push their development agenda forward, Kinser knew something very wrong was happening.

“I suddenly had an epiphany,” said Kinser, who happens to be in the real estate business himself.[1]

Though he admits that, along with his fellow residents, he thought he was doing what was best by voting for the so-called improvements to the trailer park, his epiphany came when he realized it was merely put in place to dupe the residents into voting for eminent domain.

“It was a total stealth election,” he said. “It was ambiguous and non-descriptive on purpose. When I saw that, I became convinced that the entire thing was orchestrated.”

When Kinser flat-out told the board they were wrong in their plans to use eminent domain against the neighborhood of middle-class homes, he soon found himself fighting on the side of the homeowners.

“It was a total stealth election,” he said. “It was ambiguous and non-descriptive on purpose. When I saw that, I became convinced that the entire thing was orchestrated.”

He made friends with resident activist Jane Carpenter, who was already raising awareness and fighting the eminent domain abuse. Together, they planned events, meetings and rallies, and appeared on local media to voice their opposition to the massive redevelopment plan. Kinser even invested some of his own money in the process—toward advertising, making phone calls, booking musical acts for events and coordinating the entire neighborhood.

Even though the other members of the LCRA “ostracized” him and made him endure what he calls the worst time of his life, all the efforts and money have so far made it completely worth it to Kinser. He says it earned them lots of exposure—which resulted in at least 10 homes being protected from the government’s wrecking ball.

“It was the reason we could save the homes,” he said, proudly.

The last year may have been a difficult one for Kinser to bear as the single voice on the LCRA advocating for homeowners, but he says, “Now, I’m a hero with the general population.”

The Castle Coalition strongly admires those who stand up for what they believe is right. We can only hope that, for the sake of property owners everywhere, there are more of Claude Kinser’s kind tucked away, but speaking out on city councils and other government agencies.

When residents of Ozark, Mo., voted for a clean-up project of a local dilapidated trailer park, they thought they were doing a good thing by ensuring that everyone in town would be living in a cleaner, safer environment.

But they never would have guessed that their own City Council would go one huge step farther by declaring the entire area “blighted,” and adding 47 more acres of middle class homes that encircled the trailer park area.[1] Blight designations carry with them the abusive power of eminent domain.

Jane Carpenter, a resident of one of the homes in the encircled area, refused to believe that her entire neighborhood of cute family homes could be considered “blight.”[2]

When she realized that the City Council was trying to establish a redevelopment district in the “blighted” area, she did not hesitate on protesting their actions.

“We asked the City to deal with [a] trailer park. We didn’t ask for an extreme makeover,” said Carpenter’s husband, Dennis Sparrow. “We were blindsided.”

As it turned out, the City was seeking to implement a redevelopment scheme consisting of retail, condos, loft apartments and private parks.[3] And in order to do so, the City did what local governments across the country do to obtain private property for private development from home and small business owners that don’t want to sell—they declared the area “blighted.”

Jane Carpenter engaged her neighborhood, organizing her fellow residents and getting the word out that this use of eminent domain was simply wrong. She held meetings and rallies at her own home and did as much research as she could to gather information to do battle against the City Council. All of these tactics are advocated by the Castle Coalition and appear in its popular Eminent Domain Abuse Survival Guide.

“I was already writing letters to the editor and holding neighborhood meetings,” said Carpenter. “And one night while I was doing research on the Internet, I found the Castle Coalition.” While much of what she was already doing to thwart the efforts of the greedy City Council were already outlined in the Survival Guide, the advice and materials she received from the Castle Coalition have proven invaluable to this day.

Soon, nearly every home in the area was donning a “Stop Eminent Domain Abuse” and a “Hands Off My Home” poster, courtesy of the Castle Coalition. “They were everywhere!” she exclaimed.

Carpenter says that by getting the word out and letting the entire community know about this terrible abuse of eminent domain, it stopped much of the City Council’s actions.

“We were interviewed by television, newspapers, everything,” she said. “That’s what really did it. In the end, we ended up bulldozing them.”

Just a few months ago, several homes in the proposed redevelopment area were “taken off the chopping block,” according to Carpenter. She truly believes that the residents would not have experienced the victory were it not for the staunch opposition they had raised throughout the public and in the media.

If there is any advice Carpenter can give for other property owners facing eminent domain abuse, it’s that, “[We] showed hope that you can do it. The best thing I learned from the Survival Guide was to stay with the media. That’s really what turned it around for us.”

Carpenter says that saving the first several homes is “just a start,” and that the battle is far from over. She, along with her hands-on neighbors, intends to keep on fighting the City Council until there is no chance for eminent domain abuse.

The Castle Coalition is confident that with the lessons Jane Carpenter and her neighbors have learned, they can certainly win in the court of public opinion. As they and countless other eminent domain abuse victors have learned, this is often the heart of the battle.