The state's sale on the Thomson Correctional Center to the federal government has been on hold for more than a year. (Chuck Berman, Tribune photo / July 16, 2012)
For more than a year, one person has held up the sale of Thomson Correctional Center to the U.S. Bureau of Prisons. The Republicans in Illinois' congressional delegation seem to think that person is Gov. Pat Quinn.
In fact, it's Rep. Frank Wolf, R-Va., who probably couldn't find tiny Thomson, Ill., on a map. As chairman of a House subcommittee that oversees prison spending, he's refusing to sign the paperwork to free up the funds for the sale. The Justice Department wants to "reprogram" unspent money that was originally appropriated for other uses. Wolf's counterpart in the Senate signed off on the transfer long ago.
Wolf can't sleep at night for fear that terrorists currently imprisoned at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, will be transferred to Thomson. That was the original plan, and apparently it scared the Virginia congressman a lot more than it scared the people who live in and around Thomson.
Sure, they were attracted by the prospect of thousands of jobs. But they also know that Thomson is a state-of-the-art maximum security prison, and that federal prisons in the U.S. house hundreds of international terrorists already. Most of the noise about loosing terrorists on Main Street was coming from politicians — and it still is, even though the Obama administration long ago agreed not to bring those detainees to Thomson after all.
With the federal prison system dangerously overcrowded with non-terrorists, Sens. Dick Durbin and Mark Kirk pressed for a deal contingent on assurances that Thomson would not become "Gitmo North." Last spring, the state agreed to sell the prison for $165 million — a bargain, given that it was appraised for around $220 million. But Wolf won't release the money.
Never mind that Congress has passed a law to prevent the Guantanamo detainees from being imprisoned in the states. Never mind that U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder told a Senate panel last month, under oath, that the administration has abandoned plans to do so. Wolf won't budge.
So the state's Republican congressmen — all except retiring Rep. Tim Johnson of Urbana — sent a letter to Quinn, urging him to drop the price. To which we can only say, "Huh?"
Is there a price point at which Rep. Wolf will suddenly lose his fear of terrorists under the bed? He didn't return our call so we couldn't ask him. The Republicans' letter did not recommend a figure or explain how a discounted price would get around the roadblock. Durbin's right: The Republican lawmakers are making excuses for their failure to move the recalcitrant Wolf.
Thomson cost $128 million to build in 2001. It was supposed to replace aging lockups around the state, but union workers at those prisons didn't want to move and state officials didn't have the backbone to make them. So Thomson sat mostly empty for a decade. It was declared surplus property in 2010, clearing the way for a sale.
In their letter to Quinn, the Illinois Republicans point out that a functioning Thomson would create 1,100 jobs and pump more than $200 million a year into the local economy. Taking into account the resulting state income taxes ($6.2 million a year) and sales taxes ($3.8 million), "the state would gain back any lost revenue from lowering the sales price of the prison within eight years," the letter says. If we're doing the math right — $10 million times eight years, or $80 million in recovered revenue — it sounds like the congressmen are suggesting the state could let the prison go for as little as $85 million.
Lowballing the governor on a distressed property? Excuse us, lawmakers: You are supposed to be representing the seller in this transaction, not the buyer.
The federal government needs that prison. The negotiated price — $165 million — is more than fair. And the foot-dragging in Congress, by your own calculations, is costing Illinois $200 million a year in economic activity.
So you're absolutely right: It's time to close this deal. But you are leaning on the wrong guy.
Gov. Quinn is looking out for the taxpayers. He could use your help. But apparently it's easier to try to strong-arm Illinois into taking a big hit on the sale than to confront your hard-headed colleague from Virginia.