CHICAGO _ Former federal prosecutor Lori Lightfoot, former U.S. Commerce Secretary Bill Daley and Cook County Board President Toni Preckwinkle jumped out in a narrow three-way battle in the first round of the Chicago mayor's race Tuesday night, as a record 14 candidates fought to advance in an election that drew near record low turnout.
With votes scarcer than expected and polls showing a half-dozen or more candidates within striking distance, the goal was to break into the top two and qualify for the April 2 runoff election. That is the result if no candidate collects more than 50 percent of the vote the first time around.
Unofficial results showed Lightfoot with 16 percent of the vote, Daley with 15 percent and Preckwinkle with 14.9 percent with 34 percent of precincts counted. They were trailed by businessman Willie Wilson with 10 percent, state comptroller Susana Mendoza with 9 percent, Southwest Side attorney Jerry Joyce with 8.9 percent, activist and policy consultant Amara Enyia with 7 percent and former Chicago Public Schools board president Gery Chico with 6.8 percent.
The remaining six candidates, former CPS CEO Paul Vallas, former police Superintendent Garry McCarthy, state Rep. LaShawn Ford, former Alderman Bob Fioretti, tech entrepreneur Neal Sales-Griffin and attorney John Kozlar each had collected less than 6 percent.
The tight results, the potential for a long night and the prospect of thousands of mail-in ballots yet to be returned meant candidates were not quick to claim victory or concede defeat. Late Tuesday, election officials reported the city was on pace for just 34 percent voter turnout, which would match the first round election four years ago and edge out the record low of 33 percent in 2007 when Mayor Richard M. Daley cruised to his sixth and final term against two lesser-known candidates.
The 14 candidates vying for the fifth floor office at City Hall marked the largest field to run for mayor in Chicago's 181-year history. The race to succeed Mayor Rahm Emanuel, who made the surprise announcement after Labor Day that he would not seek a third term, comes at a pivotal time for Chicago and unfolded against the backdrop of an ongoing federal corruption investigation at City Hall.
Many of them vowed to improve policing and drive down crime while pledging to provide relief from a yearslong succession of tax increases. But most also did not lay out comprehensive plans on how they would deal with the city's pension woes and budget shortfall, instead pointing to hopes for a Chicago casino and a share of revenue from legalized marijuana as panaceas.
During the last six months, the mayoral race had been defined by a series of twists and turns, with none more dominating than the federal probe at City Hall, which led all of the candidates to propose a series of ethics reforms.
The campaign began with a dozen people declaring they would challenge Emanuel, some with ties to the mayor. Eight of them would make the final ballot _ Lightfoot, McCarthy, Vallas, Wilson, Enyia, Joyce, Sales-Griffin and Kozlar.
That group's satisfaction with the mayor's departure from the race in September would be short-lived. The candidates had to recalibrate their largely anti-Emanuel campaigns while seeing their efforts to raise campaign cash and get their message out somewhat choked off by four heavyweight establishment candidates who soon would enter the contest. When he dropped out, Emanuel predicted none of the announced candidates would become the next mayor, saying it took more than a "one-trick pony" to run America's third largest city.
Soon, the other political thoroughbreds entered _ Preckwinkle, Daley, Chico and Mendoza. Those four establishment candidates combined to raise $19.1 million _ or more than double the other 10 candidates combined, which also included late entrants Ford and Fioretti.
While the financial advantages separated those four, so too, did the federal corruption investigation at City Hall.
Chico, Daley, Preckwinkle and Mendoza each had longstanding ties to Burke that became readily apparent soon after federal agents raided his City Hall and 14th Ward offices in late November, papered over the windows and hauled out boxes of records and computers. The candidates all quickly offered an array of ethics reforms, including creating term limits, banning outside income for aldermen and ending veto power aldermen hold over permits and projects in their ward.
By early January, federal authorities had charged with Burke attempted extortion, alleging he held up permits a restaurant magnate needed in his ward in exchange for property tax appeals business at his law firm and a $10,000 campaign contribution to another politician. The Chicago Tribune reported that the contribution had gone to Preckwinkle, which she said she returned.
A few weeks later, it became clear that the federal probe had not been limited to Burke, as it was revealed that longtime Alderman Danny Solis had worn a wire on colleagues for a couple of years while facing his own allegations of misconduct. Also recorded by the FBI: powerful House Speaker Michael Madigan, who was recorded seeking business at his law firm from a business owner who needed Solis' approval at City Hall.
While Solis and Madigan have not been charged with wrongdoing, the political damage for the establishment candidates was swift.
The episode conjured up similar federal probes that took down high-ranking members working in the administration of Daley's brother, Richard M. Daley, when he served as mayor. The Daley family also had been political donors to Burke, with whom they had cut deals at City Hall for decades.
Chico was left to "repudiate" his close friend and mentor Burke, who earlier had backed Chico by calling him the most qualified candidate to become mayor. Opponents also were quick to point out how Chico long had lobbied Burke and Solis on behalf of clients seeking deals at City Hall.
Mendoza, who was married at Burke's home, also denounced the man who helped get her started in politics on the Southwest Side. She gave $10,000 in Burke campaign donations to charity and did the same with another $142,000 tied to Solis.
But it was Preckwinkle who bore the brunt of the Burke blowback, tied directly to the scandal by the 50-year alderman's alleged shakedown of a campaign contribution for Preckwinkle.
She, too, donated $12,000 in Burke money to charity and vowed to return another $116,000 she received at a fundraiser at the alderman's Gage Park compound. Preckwinkle also was left to explain why she hired Burke's son, Ed Burke, Jr., to a six-figure job at the county while he faced sexual harassment allegations in his previous job with the Cook County sheriff.
Those scandals piled on top of other Preckwinkle controversies. She misled the public about when she knew about sexual harassment allegations against her chief of staff, whom she fired. She waited months before firing her security chief after evidence surfaced that a county SUV he drove had been used to illegally transport political materials. And just last week, she fired a senior campaign aide after he invoked Nazis to criticize Lightfoot in a social media post.
All of it led Preckwinkle to describe the campaign in the race's final days with a single word: "tough."
Whoever gets elected Chicago's next mayor will be greeted by a plethora of big challenges when they take office in mid-May.
For the last three years, the city has struggled to tamp down repeated surges of violent crime that left 561 killed and 2,948 people shot last year, and the Police Department faces a federal consent decree that will drive reforms in a department with a history of misconduct and excessive force against minorities.
Chicago must come up with an additional $1 billion in payments to public employee pensions by 2023, including $270 million next year, at a time when taxpayers already are weary after two terms of Emanuel issuing record property tax increases while hiking other fees to stabilize the city's shaky finances.
And the next mayor faces a widening gap between the wealthy corporate success and booming development of downtown and scores of largely African-American neighborhoods that have faced a sharp population drop after decades of economic decline and gang violence.
