As gale-force winds whipped the city last week, two former firefighters stood in front of a Chicago Public Library branch in far-northwest-side Norwood Park, toeing the electioneering boundary. One—incumbent 41st Ward alderman Anthony Napolitano—was surrounded by a posse of aides who helped him pass out flyers to early voters heading inside to cast their ballots. The other—aldermanic candidate Tim Heneghan—tried to get the voters’ attention with help only from his wife, Stacy. Standing several feet apart, the two candidates exchanged accusations about who has the most toxic Facebook presence and offered contrasting views on affordable housing, schools, and ward services.



     There is, however, a small but vocal group of locals who don’t see themselves reflected in Napolitano’s politics. His opponent is banking on them representing a silent majority.



     Monica Dillon, 60, a longtime resident of the 41st Ward and administrator of the 41st Progressives Facebook page and blog, told the Reader that Heneghan isn’t involved in running them. In fact, she said, it’s only with great hesitancy that she’s come to support him for alderman.



     Though he’s highly critical of Napolitano’s actions on the Higgins building now, it wasn’t so long ago that Heneghan was peddling anti­-affordable-housing rhetoric himself.



     He showed me an e-mail from ward resident Scott Thedford that he’d received the previous night. “Your position on affordable housing in this ward is the a killer [sic],” Thedford had written. “I guess you feel that the hard working law abiding people of this ward should be subjected to shit heads who can’t pull there weight [sic].” (Thedford later told me he stood by the spirit of his critique, if not by the foul language, adding that he thought his views were in line with those of others in the 41st Ward.)



     Napolitano responded with some comments about his partnership with the Blackhawks bringing a new ice rink to the ward. Heneghan called the rink a “debacle.” The moderator once again moved to end the event, at which point people began shouting.