The Portsmouth Town Council chambers were packed with opponents of big-box retail tonight, a standing-room-only crowd that spilled out into the parking lot, where some of the nearly 200 attendees had to huddle around the windows to follow the discussion. While the Council voted 6-1 (Karen Gleason opposed) on the wording of a motion effecting an emergency moratorium on large-scale retail, the concern was that it may already be too late. Although the Council had not yet seen documentation, Target's lawyer had apparently filed their application this afternoon.

"Because they have filed," said Councilor Bill West, "Any moratorium will not affect Target. At this point in time, they are exempt." The only possible exception, said Town Solicitor Kevin Gavin, would be if their application was not "substantially complete," and that determination would take some time.

This was exactly what the anti-sprawl group Preserve Portsmouth had been working to avoid. Their lawyer, Mark Liberati opened the discussion by pressing the Council, "Too often, residents ask to close the barn door after the horse has left," he said, urging them to act to "stop the flood of applications before zoning changes could be made."

Assistant Planner Gary Crosby briefed the Council on the work he, Town Planner Bob Gilstein, Town Admin Bob Driscoll, and Town Counsel Kevin Gavin had been doing for the past two weeks, developing potential language for a moratorium that would pass legal muster.

"Our state has no controlling authority for a moratorium," he said, "Other than the police powers of the zoning enabling act." And going that route, he said, would require amending the zoning act, which requires public notice and hearing. "In the best possible world, it would take 6 weeks."

This was clearly not what the 140 people in the room and the 50+ crowded around the screens outside wanted to hear.

"There is another way," he continued. "It might be possible to enact an emergency moratorium based on the Town Council's concern for public health and safety risk." There was discussion from the council about the level of legal risk from applicants, and in the end, the proposal emerged to have two overlapping moratoriums: the first, emergency moratorium would go into effect immediately and allow the process of advertising and formalizing the second through amendment to the zoning ordinance.

Tailguner Gleason, rising to the occasion, started out strong. "It does have to do with public safety. Traffic. It's only common sense it's going to get worse. I'm a rural guy. If it's not Target, it's going to be McDonalds in no time. I'm willing to take the risk," she said. "I'm ready to make a motion..."

The room burst into spontaneous applause. I very clearly heard somebody behind me say, "She's got my vote next year." And then, for Ms. Gleason, it began to drift.

"I would caution this Council," said President Dennis Canario, who tonight, as always, was trying to be scrupulously even-handed. "The wording needs to be specific. We don't want to hurt boating or the marina. We have to be careful."

Fortunately, Crosby's team had done their homework, and discussed language they had formulated about square footage, zoning district (commercial, light industrial, Town Center) and parcels fronting on the Traffic Safety district (East Main, West Main, and other arteries).

Attorney Vern Gorton, representing the O'Neill properties, added his concerns. "If you have a ban on commercial development, that's us. Weaver Cover in Melville is very commercial." He urged the Council to "act strategically — perhaps even surgically — to ensure that what you view as inappropriate development is all that you ban."

He got big applause for that, which should have been a clue for Gleason, but when she got the floor back, she went in the opposite direction. "I'm concerned about development in general," she said. "Not just about Target. I caution what this motion may be. McDonalds. Other large retail. Open up your eyes — development is not necessarily the greatest thing."

President Canario tried to give the folks from Preserve Portsmouth a chance to speak, and they did so eloquently. Conni Harding, the group's leader, reminded the Council that "we have a town that's still worth fighting for, or there wouldn't be 300 people showing up."

Redwood Farms resident Rita Spero urged the Council to think of the 130 school children, some of whom would be crossing an ever-more-dangerous West Main Road. John Silvia added, referring to Middletown, "You drive down West Main Road down there, and the horses are all out of the barn. You have a chance to protect a vital community." Werner Lowell asked the Council to think of the local businesses that would be casualties, "we don't need another mega-center on an island not much bigger than Iwo Jima."

Kathy Melvin had to get in a dig at the Council, saying that rezoning "should have been done before," and noted that "We have 1930s roads trying to cope with 20th Century traffic." (Maybe someone should explain to Kathy how "centuries" work, since the 1930s were actually *in* the 20th century, but I digress...)

Director of Business Development Bill Clarke was understandably tentative when he took the podium. "I don't want to become the least popular guy in town," he began, but he reminded the Council of the importance of commercial development, and also of the property rights of people who owned some of the larger parcels a moratorium would impact. "These people have been paying taxes, thinking that they could develop 25% of their property, and now we might be telling them it would only be 9 or 10%."

Despite all the warnings, Gleason seemed intent on leaping into the minefield. "I asked you to keep an open mind before. I move we propose an emergency moratorium on all commercial development, including chain stores, restaurants, until such time as officials research what's right for our town."

There was a weird, tense beat. I could see Vern Gorton begin scribbling furiously on his legal pad.

Councilor Len Katzman immediately moved to amend. "I appreciate that we want to be comprehensive, but a complete ban is a substantial burden," he said. "A mom-and-pop won't be able to open for the summer." He tried to add in the Crosby language.

"My motion keeps Target and the like out of our town," whined Gleason. "Mr. Katzman's allows Target to come in." Canario asked Katzman to explain his motion, and he did, stressing that while nothing might end up keeping out Target, the language would prevent other big boxes while allowing small retail.

"You would allow McDonalds?" said Gleason.

"Yes," replied Katzman, "Under 55-thousand square feet. The community is not representing to me that they are concerned with that."

"Do you want McDonalds?" said Gleason.

"I think it's quite clear," Canario tried to interject.

"You don't care about McDonalds!" Gleason was not to be denied.

"We're not going to get into yes or no McDonalds," Canario tried to bring the discussion back on track, but Tailgunner was still yammering. "Mrs. Gleason," he said, "I AM TALKING!"

In the end, Katzman's motion included the language Crosby's team had proposed, a moratorium on retail 55K square feet or more, in the target zones, with timeframes and instruction to Driscoll and Gavin to start the zoning process.

And Gleason voted against it. Maybe she just doesn't like McDonalds, or maybe it was because she felt it slipping away. By the end, the people behind me who had been saying they were going to vote for her were muttering significantly darker things. If she had just shut up and gone along, she would have been a hero tonight, as it was, she came off as the one member of the Town Council who voted against the language of the moratorium. To be fair, I think she did vote in favor of her own original motion, but by that point, people were streaming out; it was like the last five seconds of a Pats game when they're ahead by 12.

And then, the actual Town Council meeting began. There were still 56 people there when it kicked off at almost 9 pm as the Council got their bi-weekly update from Mike Schrader of Woodard & Curran on the progress of the wastewater facility plan.

There was some good news in savings from Blue Cross for both the Town and School (both are part of a bulk East Bay purchasing group) but some bad news from the General Assembly in the form of flat funding for education instead of the 3% in the Governor's original budget.

In yet another installment of the school Performance Audit saga, the Council discussed how they might fund it, and deferred discussion until the budget hearing. But Gleason, who has been spearheading the issue all along, took this opportunity to remind the Council that they had already awarded a contract, prior to the Caruolo action, when it was supposed to be funded out of the settlement.

"I move that we rescind the contract to Parmalee..." said Gleason.

"Second," said Katzman.

"I'm not done," said Gleason.

"You knew it couldn't be that quick, Lenny," said Canario. The Council was clearly getting punchy by this point.

"Rescind the contract to Parmelee, Poirer..." Gleason continued.

"Second," piped Seveney. Eventually she got through it. And they voted to rescind.

There was a long, convoluted, and ultimately fruitless discussion about borrowing; the idea was floating a bond to create a trust fund to keep the Prudence Island School open. It gave Paul Marshall, of the Prudence Island Working Committee the opportunity to take the podium and threaten to create their own school district, "to make sure that the money that comes off the island goes back there." He asked the Council to cut $1.3M out of the School budget and spend it on Prudence. Even Dennis Canario, who has always been a strong supporter, was incredulous.

"So you're going to have kids going to school in Escalades and Cadillacs?" he asked.

"I think we should ask Paul Marshall for his committee's ideas," said Gleason. She should know about this stuff. She was on the School Committee, you know.

Some people who have not been on the school committee thought this sounded like a bad idea. "The Elmhurst area pays more in taxes than the Hathaway district," said MaryAnn Raymo. "Should Elmhurst get more money than Hathaway?"

And Matt Daly, who shares Raymo's lack of school committee experience, "I find it odd to have a district where there are more people on the school committee than in the schools."

By now, it was 9:45; on any sane night, everyone would be on their way home. But there was a bond proposal for open space to chew on. Town Admin Bob Driscoll asked the Council to approve putting a $4M bond on the November ballot, a combination of $2M for open space, and the rest for Glen Farm renovations and recreation. There was discussion of separating the bonds, and of course, Karen Gleason had some concerns.

"It seems very vague. A lot of money. A lot of borrowing." She wanted specifics on the $2M. "We need an independent auditing firm to give us some new ideas. We need to get some professional help." (Was that the royal "we?" Ms. Gleason and I may have found some common ground.)

Fortunately, Ted Clement, the Executive Director of the Aquidneck Land Trust had stuck around for the whole night, and he was able to wade in.

"Karen Gleason does not fully appreciate the situation the town is in. In 2006, Aquidneck Island lost 130 acres of open space to development, 100 in Portsmouth." He was calm, rational, very much in command of the facts, and had the advantage of not having slogged through the rest of the agenda. "You've got to recognize that the epicenter for development on the island is this town. The window is closing quickly. Development is occurring right now."

Councilor Peter McIntyre wanted everyone to know that he was a supporter of open space, but he had some concerns about the process. "All decisions on land purchases are made in executive session. What I have a problem with is, is it all buildable?"

"The Town has a process," said Clement. "There's a form, it goes to the open space committee, ultimately to the Council. You're competing with developers, and are allowed by law to discuss it in executive session; it levels the playing field with the developers."

"There are issues," reiterated McIntyre. "Maybe I'm the only one that advances them."

"The issue," said Clement, "Is will we allow the voters to decide what the future of this town is going to look like."

The motion to separate the bonds failed, 4-3, with McIntyre, Little, and Gleason in the minority.

Gleason had to have one more whack at the $2M. "There's not enough info here."

"Two million?" Asked Clement, noting that they had spent years looking at land. "Portsmouth has 1,000 acres of open space that would easily cost in excess of 2M."

"But is there a guarantee," Gleason wanted to know, that the land would stay open space. (Has she, like, heard of the Aquidneck Land Trust?)

"If you're looking for perpetuity," said Clement, "A permanent conservation easement is as good as it gets, you can see the Rhode Island General Laws."

By a vote of 4-to-3, with McIntyre, Little, and Gleason opposed, the motion to put the bond to the voters in November passed, and the meeting adjourned at 10:22.