Brea : He’s Philosophical Over Loss of Job as Development Chief

When Tom Eidem left his job as city manager of Monticello, Minn., to become Brea’s development director last August, he thought he was walking into “a real challenge . . . with a great deal of optimism and enthusiasm.”

Eidem found himself with a challenge, but for the former philosophy student of the 1960s, it turned out to be philosophical rather than municipal. Last week, after just three months on the job, Brea City Manager Edward G. Wohlenberg tersely announced Eidem’s departure from the $58,000-a-year post.

Neither Eidem nor Wohlenberg would cite any specific policy differences between the development director and his superiors, but the city manager did say that Eidem’s “approach, philosophy and attitude about the job turned out to be a good deal different” than he had expected.

Wohlenberg said Friday that he had requested Eidem’s resignation. Eidem, in turn, said he left because of “a sense of frustration that was not connected to Brea at all. . . . I felt a strong need to break out of some of the confines of public sector management.”

For Brea, Eidem’s resignation means another search for someone to manage the city’s aggressive development policy. Wohlenberg, who has appointed former Fullerton planning director Richard Morton to be the interim development chief, said he expected to begin the lengthy process of finding Eidem’s permanent replacement sometime next week.

But for the 40-year-old Eidem, it represents the disillusionment of an admitted eccentric in the staid world of public administration. A former philosophy graduate student, folk musician, bartender and hotel manager, Eidem says he “stumbled” into government work 12 years ago when a friend helped him land a job writing grant applications for a small town in Minnesota.

That was a time, Eidem said, when government was seen as an active force for social reform. Today, he lamented, that doesn’t seem to be the case.

“Right now there is not a lot of focus on the positive sorts of things that governments at all levels can do,” Eidem said. “It’s not unique to Brea at all. . . . It’s just that we’re working at a very tough time in history.”

“The intent and honor of public officials is generally intact, but I think we are at a time when there is skepticism (about concepts of) commonwealth and unity,” Eidem said.

“It occurs to me that there have been times when a sense of commonwealth and community existed for a while--yes, the ‘60s and early ‘70s were such a time, even with all their misdirection. So were the ‘30s,” he said.

“There needs to be a restoration of leadership based on value systems as opposed to products, projects, production of things,” the former development chief said, adding “I go far beyond government at that point.”

Eidem said he studied philosophy at the universities of Minnesota and Arizona, receiving his master’s degree from the latter institution in 1970. While planning someday to return for a doctorate, Eidem said he then worked as a folk musician, playing guitar with several groups, including one specializing in traditional Appalachian music--”acoustic-type stuff, no rock ‘n’ roll,” he emphasized.

Unable to support himself as a musician, however, Eidem said he “drifted” into managing a hotel where he had had a regular gig. When that hotel was sold, Eidem found himself out of a job. Then a friend suggested he take a temporary assignment writing grant applications for the town of Starbuck, Minn.

Eidem stayed with local government, holding several posts in small Minnesota towns, eventually rising to the top administrative job in Monticello.

But working in Brea proved no cure to the frustrations with public administration that Eidem felt.

“The City of Brea was not the answer. More city government, more public service was not the answer to the questions I have been raising,” Eidem said.

He said his search might lead him back to the university, to complete the doctorate in philosophy he had postponed nearly a generation ago. Still, he lamented, “My plan at that time was that I would work for one year and then go back to school. Well, 17 years have gone by and I still haven’t gotten enough money to return to school.”