Loss of jobs in zoning dispute leads to recall

Car dealer Joe Scala wanted Las Vegas Councilman Steve Ross to help him get a zoning waiver so his classic and high-end used car dealership in the Centennial Hills auto mall could stay open.

It wasn’t unprecedented, either. Ross had already granted an 18-month waiver of a rule that requires all dealers to have a franchise with a major automaker to do business in the mall.

But that 18-month window was closing, Scala had sold his Mazda franchise and he would soon be forced out of business. He asked Ross for help and Ross said he’d consider a waiver, provided Scala got the sign-off of his fellow dealers (which is to say, his competitors).

Scala says he got some to agree, but Ross said Scala did nothing. So on Christmas Eve 2010, Scala was forced to close.

Shortly thereafter, Scala says he saw a TV interview in which Ross — now running for mayor of Las Vegas — bragged about his penchant for creating jobs. An angry Scala paid for TV ads, calling Ross a job killer. And even after Ross lost that race (coming in fifth in a crowded primary), Scala didn’t stop: He’s now contributing to an effort to recall the councilman, one that’s well on its way to collecting about 1,100 signatures before an Aug. 19 deadline.

“I think it’s a story that has to be told,” says Scala. “It’s time that people stand up for what’s right. I just felt that this was something that’s wrong. Dead wrong.”

Scala laid off about 30 employees from his Centennial Hills dealership, where some classic cars are still parked behind closed doors. Some ex-employees have been re-hired at another dealership he owns, but not all.

Ross vigorously defends himself, laying the blame for the closed dealership on Scala. “I laid out clearly for Joe Scala what he needed to do in order to keep his doors open, and he refused to do it,” Ross says. “He didn’t do anything to help himself. It was his choice to close his doors, not my choice to close his doors.”

But Ross had already secured a waiver, one that Scala says he didn’t sign off on, or even know about until it was in place. Couldn’t he have done it again, with a local business and more than 30 jobs on the line?

“Do I regret it?” Ross asks. “I regret he didn’t take the proper procedures that I laid out for him.”

“This is my view: This is a used car salesman that has very deep pockets that is funding this effort, because he didn’t get his way,” Ross added.

Ross has faced trouble before on the council. The state Ethics Commission in 2009 found he’d violated ethics laws by voting on the new City Hall project, because of a conflict of interest with his part-time job as secretary-treasurer of a union group. And while he promised in 2008 not to accept a $23,000-per-year increase in his City Council salary if re-elected, he took the money anyway. (Ross maintains he promised only to forgo a smaller cost-of-living raise, which he’s returned to the city treasury.)

Recall organizers can collect signatures only from people who actually voted in the 2009 election, which means they have to track down specific individuals. But it also means there will likely be no invalid signatures on their petitions. If they reach their goal, Ross goes on the ballot in a special election.

It’s the kind of trouble no politician needs. And the kind of thing he might have avoided with a simple zoning waiver.

 

Steve Sebelius is a Review-Journal political columnist and author of the blog SlashPolitics.com. Follow him on Twitter at www.Twitter.com/SteveSebelius or reach him at (702) 387-5276 or ssebelius@reviewjournal.com.