Charity Begins at Home for Folks at San Juan City Hall
Just about the time you’re convinced that this is a heartless society, you run across something that restores your feeling about the essential goodness in people.
This is one of those stories, so sit back and let the warmth pour over you. It’s about the benevolence of an entire town, a city that took a stranger to its bosom and cradled him in its civic arms and nurtured him as if he’d been attacked by wolves and left half dead on its doorstep.
For the record:
12:00 a.m. March 1, 1992 For the Record
Los Angeles Times Sunday March 1, 1992 Home Edition Part A Page 3 Column 4 Metro Desk 5 inches; 162 words Type of Material: Correction
Stephen B. Julian, city manager of San Juan Capistrano, filed a lawsuit last month against The Times and several of its employees for libel. The lawsuit claims, in part, that the articles and editorials published during January and February, 1991, accused Julian of illegal and corrupt conduct in his financial dealings with the city of San Juan Capistrano.
The Times wishes to make clear that the articles did not state and were not intended to imply that Julian is a corrupt public official. Additionally, the articles did not state, nor were they intended to imply, that Julian participated in any illegal activity or that any of the terms and conditions of his employment were illegal.
As The Times reported on March 9, 1991, the Orange County district attorney’s office declined to investigate Julian’s dealings with San Juan Capistrano, stating that it had no evidence suggesting that any crime had been committed.
Julian contends that the articles harmed him and caused him and members of his family to be the subject of harassment. The Times does not condone or encourage any harassment of Julian or his family and regrets any harm that may have occurred.
The city is San Juan Capistrano, which surely must be home to the 25,000 sweetest, most generous people on the face of the Earth.
In 1981, a man named Stephen Julian came to San Juan, wanting to be its city manager. If the city paid him a fair wage, he said, he would work hard.
“But I need a house,” he said. “The prices here will kill me.”
“No problem,” the city said. “Would a loan of $250,000 from our city funds make things easier?”
Julian said it would and agreed to pay it back in five years, presumably by coming up with conventional financing in the interim. “Don’t worry,” the city said. “We’re friendly folks here.”
By 1985, Julian hadn’t come up with financing. Instead, he got the nice folks of San Juan to extend the 1981 loan. In 1988, he sold the house back to the city for $72,500 more than he paid for it. But because he had been making small house payments through the years, he still owed the city about $86,000.
He agreed to pay off that amount in five years, but at zero interest and with no collateral. “That sounds fair to us,” the city said, beaming.
But Julian fell behind in his payments. “Not to worry,” the city said, “we’ll extend the loan to 1995 and reduce your monthly payments. Why? Because we like you.”
“Thank you,” was all Julian could say, brushing aside a tear at the goodness of these people-by-the-sea.
Building upon the trust he had established with the city, Julian drew separate checks from the city in 1986 for roughly $16,600 and $5,000, apparently using his fringe benefits as collateral. The money was supposed to be paid back in six months, but when you’re dealing with people you love, you can wink at loan terms. The city gave him another six months.
“Don’t spend it all in one place!” was all they said, cheerily.
Most of the loan arrangements were discussed by the council during private sessions. Because it knew how trusting and giving its citizens were, the council knew the public wouldn’t be the least bit upset. Citizens in less charitable towns might have scratched their heads over such transactions, but not the good Samaritans of San Juan Capistrano.
Today, Julian is earning about $125,000 in base salary, with various other fringe benefits that can be converted to cash if he chooses, boosting his annual take-home pay to about $150,000. The city manager of Anaheim, roughly 10 times the size of San Juan Capistrano, makes about the same base salary. Not to be judgmental, but the people of Anaheim have a lot to learn about the spirit of giving.
In May, Julian went to his loving friends once more and got another lump-sum check of $38,500 from the city that, he told a reporter, again amounted to borrowing against his own pay package. He said the money was used as part of the down payment on a $265,000 house he bought in June. The money will be repaid sometime before “my leaving employment with the city,” according to a promissory note he signed with the city.
That seems a little unnecessary and stiff, especially among friends. Wouldn’t a handshake and a wink have sufficed? Besides, if you had the kind of access to immediate cash with your boss that Julian does, do you think you’d ever leave its employment?
Maybe I’ve overdone it with all this talk about ledgers and loans. This was supposed to be a feel-good love story about a city that long ago opened its heart to a man and has kept opening it time after time.
It goes without saying that Julian has done nothing wrong. Indeed, he must be one of the most trusted friends you could possibly ask for. And we must assume he’s more than made good on his promise to work hard for the city.
So, make no mistake, this truly is a love affair. San Juan Capistrano took to Steve Julian the day he came to town and has been showering him with love ever since.
The Munchkins didn’t treat Dorothy this well.
And you just know how Steve Julian must feel about San Juan Capistrano. After all, with friends like that, who needs an ATM?
I salute the city. Its love for its manager makes me dewy eyed, and I don’t even live there. If I did and I learned how nice we really were to him, I’d probably be crying buckets.
But from this distance, all I can do is tip my hat to San Juan Capistrano--the Little City With the Big Heart.