Finlay backers admire his vision

Forty-five minutes into the meet-and-greet with Kirkman Finlay, all the snacks were gone.

About 150 people jammed the front office of In House Realty on North Main Street - twice the crowd organizers expected on a brilliant spring evening.

Finlay, a candidate for Columbia mayor, stood near the front door. There, people engaged him in long conversations about city government and finances, a homeless shelter and a gateway project at the railroad trestle.

Finlay didn't work the crowd so much as the crowd worked him.

While many in the room were ardent supporters, some admitted to turmoil over the decision they must make by Tuesday: Who will get their vote for mayor?

They were listening for something that would strike a chord.

"I want somebody who's got some vision," said Arsenal Hill resident Cliff Spann, who brought his three little boys to the event.

"There's so much potential with the urban area of Columbia we have not seized on."

Finlay, 40, who has served four years on City Council, quieted the room for brief remarks.

He said too many people have bad experiences when they try to do business in Columbia, and that he wants to address that.

"I really look forward to helping everybody in this room change the culture" of city government, he said.

He mentioned his family.

He made people smile.

And he closed with a simple pledge: "I'll be honest with you. I'll tell you what I think. And I'll work hard."

Supporter Chris Barczak was the evening's host.

Barczak moved his real estate appraisal and sales firm onto North Main Street over a year ago and is preparing for additional tenants. The office is headquarters for the North Columbia Business Association, too.

"I believe in his vision on small business," Barczak said, "and ethical and fiscal responsibility."

The people who attended the meet-and-greet mostly were unfamiliar to Barczak, who ran for City Council himself four years ago.

"It's critical that he gets a certain share of the votes from north Columbia," he said. "I was driving through parts of Keenan Terrace yesterday and I was very surprised by the amount of Finlay signs out in our district. Traditionally it's a little more of a liberal district."

Before the reception was over, Finlay would bolt: His youngest daughter, 6-year-old Hattie, had fallen out of a swing and broken her arm.

A trip to the emergency room capped a day that started with work at his office and progressed to door-to-door campaigning, lunch at the United House of Prayer to strategize with an adviser and a trip to pick up his oldest daughter for her horseback-riding lesson before getting cleaned up and arriving at the reception by 6.

This is Finlay's first real campaign.

He was seated on City Council in 2006 without opposition.

Now, with a mantle of semi-incumbency, Finlay is a candidate who can let his work in city government speak for itself.

He frequently notes he was the first person to raise a red flag about the overspending that preceded his tenure.

He is an expert on the city's beleaguered budget and, after accounting for shortfalls last year, said the seven-member council will be forced now to raise taxes and fees, cut staff or both. (He advocates cutting staff.)

Tuesday morning, as Finlay set out to knock on doors along Clemson Avenue, he said budget meetings would be "eye-opening" for his colleagues on City Council.

His 10-year-old, Kay, on spring break and riding in the back seat of the Suburban, asked innocently: "Where did the money go?"

He responded with a grin and a basic analysis: ill-conceived projects, salaries and money wasted, a little at a time, because no one seemed to think it would matter.

Just before 9:30 a.m., the two of them hopped out of the truck in Finlay's home district, District 4. Finlay carried door-knob hangers and a bold, black marker for writing "sorry I missed you" notes.

He and campaign staffer Charlie Irick wore similar khaki pants and navy jackets.

They have done this already in neighborhoods as economically diverse as Chestnut Hill Plantation in the suburbs and Read Street downtown.

"Back in the old days, my dad used to hire a Boy Scout troop to do this," Finlay said, smiling mischievously. "I'm not sure that's legal."

Only a handful of people were home.

"The consistent theme I hear, over and over again, is - 'It cannot continue like it is,'" Finlay said.

"Fiscal responsibility is the new black; it's the color of the season."

He passed up a house with a pink bow on the mailbox, saying, "I don't know that I want to bother anybody with a newborn baby."

Ann Faulks passed on her morning walk, barely slowing.

"Finlay for mayor!" she said, giving him a thumbs up.

Irick jotted her name on his notepad.

She'll get a letter, thanking her for her support and reminding her to vote Tuesday.

This story was originally published April 1, 2010 at 12:00 AM with the headline "Finlay backers admire his vision."