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The
Star-Crossed Life and Times of Michael “Max” Nofziger: Part 5
With
four lost elections under his belt (two for City Council and two for
Mayor), the ever intrepid Max Nofziger entered the 1987 Place One
City Council race early. Incumbent Mark Rose dropped out of
contention, choosing instead to run for Mayor. Max was the initial
front-runner for the vacated seat.
Quickly, however, other heavies threw
their hats in the ring, the most threatening being Gilbert Martinez,
who had substantial backing from developers, and Sam Griswold, a
well-known liberal fronted by the Democratic Party. Despite the
stiff competition, Max had an unshakable conviction about the
outcome — a feeling of inevitability that his time for winning had
arrived. “The incumbent bowing out was a good sign,” says Max.
“Through the whole race, I kept thinking, ‘This is it!’”
But winning wasn’t easy — far from it. In
the ’87 primary, Nofziger and Griswold split the liberal vote,
Martinez took around 35% of total ballots cast, and Max squeaked
into the run-off with 25% to Griswold’s 23%. Max had made it by the
hair of his handle-bar moustache. A few weeks later, the run-off
election proved to be even more hair-raising.
Just prior to the run-off vote, Marcia
Ball and Timbuk 3 headlined a downtown fundraiser for Max. It was
especially heartening for Max to have Marcia Ball’s support since
she had played a big part in making him fall in love with Austin
back in 1973. Barbara and Pat of Timbuk 3 performed their set and
left Max’s gig in a rush to fly to New York City and appear on
national late-night television. (Max thinks the show was Letterman,
though he couldn’t swear to it.) The benefit crowd was big, and,
according to Max, “it was an energetic scene.” He was thrilled all
the way ‘round.
Election night was a nail-biter with Martinez and
Nofziger neck and neck throughout the evening. As the late votes
were tallied, Max held tight to his belief that he would win. He
finally pulled into the lead, only to face what he calls “a
suspicious midnight computer crash” of the vote-counting system.
Yikes.
Still anticipating
eventual triumph, Nofziger supporters struck up a victory party at
the Texicali Grill on South Lamar. When Max made his entrance at
the restaurant about 2:00 a.m., “the place went nuts.”
TA-DA!
An hour or so
later, Austin American-Statesman writer Bob Banta showed up
with the newspaper’s morning issue hot off the presses. He held up
the headline announcing Max’s win, and the crowd “went crazy” in
celebration. Eight years and two months after his quest for city
elected office had begun, Michael Max Nofziger was the victor at
last. That night, a happier man could not have been found anywhere
on the planet.
Not long after
sunrise that morning, Max kept his promise to serve as a judge at
Spam-O-Rama, taking place that year at the venerable Soap Creek
Saloon on South Congress. Max’s eyes were red from his mere two
hours of sleep, he was wearing a yellow hog-head T-shirt, and he was
having an exceptionally bad hair day. In excellent humor though, he
described himself to the attending press as “a developer’s worst
nightmare.” That quote became a headline in the Dallas Morning
News, accompanied by a photo of the disheveled Councilman-elect
making an ugly face after tasting a particularly nasty Spam
concoction. Max says with a laugh, “Leave it to the press to paint
you in your worst light.” His sense of humor is one of his most
endearing qualities and would serve him well in his upcoming years
at an elected — yes, elected! — official.
An important fact
that should be noted about Nofziger’s first win: he spent $30,000
on the campaign compared to Martinez’s $150,000. Pretty darned
impressive. Nowadays Max says wistfully, “I may never know what
it’s like to have a $100,000 campaign.” His victory came from the
large support base of volunteers and small donors he had
meticulously built over his years of campaigning — the folks to whom
Max is forever grateful and for whom he works so tirelessly.
Lassoing the
Economy
When Max took
office in mid-1987, Austin’s economy was in shambles. Due to the
head-on collision of a local housing glut, the rollback of federal
real estate tax-shelter incentives, the Savings and Loan crisis, and
the collapse of the Texas oil market, Austin real estate had lost
20% to 30% of its value during the preceding 18 months. The town
was plagued with high apartment and office vacancies which at one
point climbed to more than 30%. With the property tax base thus
depleted, local taxing authorities (the City, Travis County, AISD,
and ACC) were forced to increase property tax rates, yet they still
faced severe income shortages.
Reverberations
rattled through most economic sectors state-wide, resulting in
record numbers of foreclosures and bankruptcies plus the shutdown of
many of Austin’s favorite music venues and other businesses, both
large and small.
A veritable dynamo
of energy who took his charge and the voters’ trust seriously, Max
immediately launched into plans to revitalize the City’s economy and
to make Austin the Live Music Capitol of the World. Max was big on
promoting local “organic” business growth rather than courting
multinationals to squat in our midst on the public dime. He became
the Council’s chief voice for getting Austin’s financial house in
order and cranking up its economy. He led the drive to get the new
convention center’s planning and construction underway, and he
organized better City support for its unique music industry.
The late-80s
economic slide was too big for any one man or even one city or one
state to hold back, but Max’s efforts did help make the fall less
catastrophic and set the stage for an ultimate turn-around, even as
things worsened through 1988 and into 1989. By mid-1989, the slide
had leveled out, and, though no one could be sure, the general
feeling, and hope, was that we had hit bottom and had nowhere to go
but up.
Another
Squeaker
Come 1990 campaign
season, seven people, none of them well-known, ran against Max for
the Place One Council seat. One local pundit labeled the field of
candidates, “Max and the Seven Dwarves,” and most everyone assumed
that Nofziger would win. But, oh what a vicious campaign ensued.
Max’s hope to win
the election outright in the primary was doused when he received
almost 48% of the primary vote and was forced into a run-off with
developer-backed Lee Lane. Actually, most of the campaign season’s
meanness was directed against the Council’s two other seated
liberals, George Humphrey and Sally Shipman, in a heated movement to
dump the incumbents. Shipman made it to the run-offs where she lost
her bid, but Humphrey ran a distant third and didn’t even qualify
for the run-off.
Max’s own race was
not so bad considering the atmosphere. The run-off returns between
Lane and Nofziger were close all that long election night. Late in
the evening, Lane surged ahead with only a few boxes left to count.
Luckily for Max, those boxes were large and liberal and gave him
another squeaker victory with roughly 51% of the vote. The public
was apparently pleased enough with Max’s work on their behalf to
re-elect him, which naturally pleased Max as well.
During his second
City Council term, Max worked on trying to move the airport away
from the central city and the neighborhoods and schools that were
tormented by its noise, pollution, and danger. Additionally, Max
foresaw that the existing airport facility simply wasn’t big enough
to handle Austin’s growth and increasing airline traffic. He pushed
for building a new airport by instigating a search for sites and
funding as well as undertaking a quest to earn voter approval.
In June 1990
shortly after Max’s second term began, an all-night City Council
meeting took place in which the chambers were packed with opponents
to what Max refers to as, “Jim Bob’s pet project.” Otherwise known
as the proposed development of Freeport McMoran’s Barton Creek
project right smack on top of the environmentally sensitive Edwards
Aquifer, the subdivision project was hotly contested because it
threatened the crystal waters of Barton Springs. Fierce opposition
to any and all development potentially damaging to the Springs
steadily multiplied from there, and the Save Our Springs Alliance
(SOS) kicked into high gear by early the following year.
The Austin
Convention Center opened in the summer of 1992. Max Nofziger was
the only City Councilmember who had served on its subcommittee from
inception to completion, an accomplishment he’s quite proud of. The
City’s economy was recovering by then, and many things were right in
Councilman Nofziger’s world.
These days Max is
correct to assert that he was instrumental in Austin’s economic
recovery once before and that he’s the only candidate in the current
mayor’s race with such valuable experience. His economic platform
is practical and well thought-out, relying heavily on supporting the
health and growth of Austin’s existing industry and business plus
the entrepreneurial activities of its citizens. To Max, it only
makes sense to assist the homegrown endeavors that give Austin its
magic and to keep our local dollars recirculating through the City
economy rather than lining the coffers and executive pockets of
large corporations based elsewhere.
Max has already
seen his ideas jumpstart Austin’s economy in the very recent past,
and they will work again if we only give him the chance to lead us
in that direction as our next mayor. We’d have to be crazy not to
take him up on the offer.
Next
week, log on to read about Max’s last race for the City Council, his
ensuing term, and what he’s been up to since leaving office in 1996
. . .
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