have mushroomed around airports everywhere in the world."
A woman shouted, "When we came to live here, we didn't know about jet noise."
"But we did!" Mel pointed a finger at the woman. "Airport managements knew that jet airplanes were coming, and knew what jet noise would be like, and we warned people, and local zoning commissions, and pleaded with them in countless Meadowoods not to build homes. I wasn't at this airport then, but there are records and pictures in our files. This airport put up signs where Meadowood is now: AIRPLANES WILL TAKE OFF AND LAND OVER THIS ROUTE. Other airports did the same. And everywhere the signs appeared, real estate developers and salesmen tore them down. Then they sold land and houses to people like you, keeping quiet about the noise to come, and airport expansion plans---which usually they knew of---and I guess in the end the real estate people outwitted us all."
This time there was no rejoinder, only a sea of thoughtful faces, and Mel guessed that what he had said had struck home. He had a sense of keen regret. These were not antagonists whom he wanted to defeat. They were decent people with a real and pressing problem; neighbors for whom he wished he could do more.
He caught sight of Elliott Freemantle's sneering features. "Bakersfeld, I suppose you think that's pretty clever." The lawyer turned away, shouting over nearer heads without benefit of amplifier. "Don't believe all that! You're being softened up! If you stick with me, we'll take these airport people, and we'll take them good!"
"In case any of you didn't hear," Mel said into the microphone, "that was Mr. Freemantle advising you to stick with him. I have something to say about that, too."
He told the now attentive crowd, "Many people---people like you---have had advantage taken of them by being sold land or homes in areas which should not have been developed, or should have been developed for industrial use where airport noise doesn't matter. You haven't lost out entirely, because you have your land and homes; but chances are, their values have decreased."
A man said gloomily, "Damn right!"
"Now there's another scheme afoot to part you from your money. Lawyers all over North America are hot-footing it to airport dormitory communities because 'thar's gold in that thar noise.' "
Lawyer Freemantle, his face flushed and distorted, shrilled, "You say one more word---I'll sue you!"
"For what" Mel shot back. "Or have you guessed already what I'm going to say?" Well, he thought, maybe Freemantle would launch a libel action later, though he doubted it. Either way, Mel felt some of his old recklessness---a decision for plain speaking, and never mind the consequences---take command. It was a feeling which, in the past year or two, he had experienced rarely.
"Residents in the communities I spoke of," Mel argued, "are being assured that airports can be sued---successfully. Homeowners near airports are being promised there's a pot of dollars at every runway's end. Well, I'm not saying airports can't be sued, nor am I saying there aren't some fine, sound lawyers engaged in anti-airport litigation. What I'm warning you is that there are a good many of the other kind, too."
The same woman who had called out before asked---more mildly this time---"How are we supposed to know which is which?"
"It's difficult without a program; in other words, unless you happen to know some airport law. If you don't, you can be bamboozled by a one-sided list of legal precedents." Mel hesitated only briefly before adding, "I've heard a few specific law decisions mentioned tonight. If you wish, I'll tell you another side to them."
A man at the front said, "Let's hear your version, mister."
Several people were looking curiously at Elliott Freemantle.
Mel had hesitated, realizing that this had already gone on longer than he intended. He supposed, though, that a few minutes more would make no difference.
On the fringes of the crowd he caught sight of Tanya Livingston.
"The legal cases which you and I have both heard referred to glibly," Mel said, "are old hat to people who ran airports. The first, I think, was U.S. v. Causby."
That particular case---a pillar of Lawyer Freemantle's presentation to the Meadowood group---was, Mel explained, a decision more than twenty years old. "It concerned a chicken farmer and military airplanes. The airplanes repeatedly flew over the farmer's house, as low as sixty-seven feet---a whole lot lower than any airplane ever comes near Meadowood. The chickens were frightened; some died."