An American dream denied
By Steve Bailey, Globe Columnist
John Walsh thought he was living the American dream. Until, that is, he ran head-on into Jonathan Winthrop.
The two men come from very different worlds -- and Jonathan Winthrop has every intention of keeping it that way.
Winthrop's family came to Boston on the Arbella in 1630 (which followed the more modest Mayflower expedition by a decade), and he is a direct descendent of John Winthrop, the first governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. He is an architect and a graduate of St. Mark's School, Harvard, and the University of Pennsylvania. He is not someone who likes to see his name turn up in the papers, but The New York Times, of course, duly noted his engagement and marriage in 1998 to Sydney Cheston, whose great-grandfather founded Dodge, the car company. It must have been a grand affair.
Walsh's wedding 24 years ago to his high school sweetheart, Kathleen, didn't make the Times, but then Walsh wasn't exactly an avid Times reader all those years ago. He grew up in a Somerville housing project, and when his father, a laborer, drowned at the age of 47, he left his wife with six kids and no life insurance. Neither of his parents went beyond the eighth grade. Walsh himself dropped out of Westfield State College to go to beauty school. It turned out to be a good decision.
Today Walsh is the wealthy chief executive and sole owner of Elizabeth Grady Cos., the fast-growing chain of salons in New England. Since buying the business from the founding family 15 years ago by pledging everything his family owned (including his mom's modest home), Walsh has transformed Elizabeth Grady from a company near bankruptcy to one with about $25 million in annual revenue. The company now has 40 stores and plans to add another 10 next year.
John Walsh has a remarkable rags-to-riches story to tell, but it has not been remarkable enough to impress Jonathan Winthrop, who lives his life, quite literally, overlooking Beacon Hill from the penthouse. Walsh just wants to move downstairs. Winthrop and his neighbors have said no. Walsh, though, is not going away quietly.
"I didn't get to where I am by waiting for someone to give something to me," says Walsh, 51. "My parents instilled in me that you can do anything you want, be anything you want, as long as you work hard at it."
For months now Walsh has been trying to buy a unit at 68 Beacon St. , a striking nine-story brick building at the corner of Charles Street -- one of the city's best locations, at the foot of the Public Garden and the Boston Common.
The problem: 68 Beacon is a cooperative building, which courts have ruled are essentially private clubs, giving boards the right to turn down anyone they wantas long as no one can prove they have broken laws barring discrimination based on things like race, sex, or age. Co-ops are much more common in New York than Boston, and prospective owners are frequently rejected without knowing why. Singer Barbra Streisand, clothing designer Calvin Klein, and casino entrepreneur Steve Wynn are among those rejected by co-ops .
Walsh and his family have lived in North Andover for years and have a summer home in Gloucester. But with their children getting older, he says, they started looking for a place in the city. They eventually fell in love with the location -- and the possibilities -- of 68 Beacon. Their unit would be on the first floor in space formerly occupied by Sovereign Bank. He agreed to pay $700,000 for 2,254 square feet and figures it will cost about that much again to renovate the space. He knows he got a steal.
"I never said I had stupid stamped on my forehead," says the blunt Walsh.
Walsh says Winthrop, chairman of the co-op board, was cold and haughty from the beginning. In an initial 30-minute "preliminary interview," Walsh says, Winthrop's questions focused on the couples' parents' backgrounds, their own educations, and that of their children. Winthrop also wanted to know how they got such a good price on the unit, Walsh says. "By the way," Walsh quoted Winthrop as saying at the end, "your references are weak."
Walsh says his wife got the message loud and clear: They don't want us here, she said.
The Walshes eventually went through an interview with the entire board, and it was more of the same, he says. In a rejection letter last spring, Anne R. Righter, a director, wrote: "The board, in general, has through its interview process, garnered a belief that Mr. Walsh would not reasonably coalesce as a member of this cooperative community. Inherent in the nature of the cooperative form of ownership is the right of the stockholders, acting by and through the board and officers, to select people and activities that are compatible with the community."
And that was what the board was willing to put in writing. The letter also cited ``at least one material misrepresentation" on the application but wasn't explicit and expressed concern that Walsh did not have the ``ability" to complete the renovation. The board also worried that Walsh's intentions were ``of a speculative nature."
Walsh says there was no misrepresentation, and the board's list is a smokescreen. Winthrop, in particular, does not want them there because ``we are not their kind of people," Walsh says. ``What I wanted to say -- and didn't -- is that when he was studying art appreciation, I was wondering where my next [expletive] meal was coming from," says Walsh. He also says the co-op board itself wants to buy the space. He eventually appealed his rejection before a meeting of all the building's residents at the Somerset Club, but was turned down.
Winthrop declines to comment: ``I have no comment to make on this issue at all. You may or may not be receiving a call from the building's attorney with the same message." The lawyer called, and he too declined to comment.
Walsh has no shortage of admirers, all of whom are willing to speak up for him with the co-op board. Massachusetts Attorney General Tom Reilly, who has worked with Walsh on drug and street crime issues in Somerville, calls him ``a caring person," a good family man, and someone who wants to give back. "He is what America is all about," says Reilly.
Kent Kreh, former chairman of Jenny Craig Inc., calls Walsh a "straight arrow" who has done a "magnificent" job with his company. Of Walsh's co-op rejection, Kreh says: "It sounds like something that doesn't exist any more in this country."
State Representative Barry Finegold, an Andover Democrat, wants to make sure it doesn't happen again in Massachusetts. He and state Senator Bruce Tarr, a Gloucester Republican, plan to introduce a bill that would limit such rejections to financial considerations. He calls Walsh "an absolute role model for any person who thinks one can accomplish anything. He came from a very, very tough background, and is someone who has not forgotten where he comes from."
Despite all that has happened, Walsh insists that he "positively, absolutely" wants to live at 68 Beacon. "What kind of example do I set if I walk away?" asks Walsh, a father of three.
John Winthrop is remembered for his "City on a Hill" sermon, which proclaimed that the wealthy have a holy duty to look after the poor. But Winthrop, elected 12 times as a governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, was no democrat. Known as obstinate and intolerant, he wrote: "A democracy is, amongst civil nations, accounted the meanest and worst of all forms of government."
Nearly four centuries later, the family's Puritan values live on in the penthouse atop 68 Beacon St.
