Recently, the Village announced movement on several major projects: Fire Station 11, the Public Works Fleet Garage, and the Police Station. The efforts are long overdue. Built decades ago, each of the facilities now faces serious shortcomings—many of which have been described with growing urgency. That progress is finally underway is both welcome and worth recognizing. It’s not easy to get projects like this moving, and credit is due to those doing the work to push them forward.
I approached this analysis with a healthy dose of skepticism. For years, public updates from Village leadership painted an optimistic picture that didn’t quite align with what residents were seeing on the ground. Timelines shifted. Details stayed vague. And the tone of confident certainty was hard to reconcile with the pace of visible change.
To be fair, many of these challenges weren’t created by the current Board—but they now sit squarely on its plate. Years of limited foresight and delayed action have turned into today’s urgent priorities. That doesn’t erase public frustration, but it does add important context.
This post isn’t about assigning blame—it’s about calling for clarity, urgency, and a chance to improve. It aims to hold two truths at once: real progress is finally underway, and there’s still meaningful room to strengthen how we govern and communicate.
You’ll read about the important work now underway to replace and rebuild essential facilities. You’ll also see how a pattern of overly optimistic updates—at times lacking transparency—has shaped public trust. And you’ll encounter a few ideas, shared with humility, for how Northbrook might raise its game to meet the moment.
I’ll start with a professional experience that shaped how I think about legacy systems and institutional inertia. The dynamics I encountered—the burden of delay, the cost of inaction, and the challenge of rallying people around necessary but daunting change—feel strikingly familiar as I look at where Northbrook stands today.
I once worked for a company whose flagship platform had reshaped its industry. For a time, a virtuous cycle of revenue growth masked a vicious cycle of mounting technical debt. The more successful we became, the harder it was to make foundational changes—and the longer we waited, the steeper the climb became.
Built on a proprietary language, the system once fueled $1.5 billion in annual revenue. But over time—even with more than $100 million invested each year in enhancements—the cracks began to show. Win and retention rates started slipping. Flashier competitors, despite offering technically weaker products, were gaining ground. And it became harder to attract and retain talent, many of whom preferred working in a more modern stack.
We knew modernization was necessary. Years earlier, we had launched a “next” version focused on lowering implementation costs—but it left the core engine untouched. So we brought in consultants, developed a detailed plan, and proposed a full rebuild: a multi-year, high-cost, high-risk transformation. It would pause nearly all new feature development and require unwavering commitment from leadership.
When we pitched the plan to the Executive Council, we were very careful to be clear and fact-based. We were neither optimistic nor pessimistic. In the end, they blinked. The price tag was massive. The ROI was hard to quantify. And the business pressures were very real. Success was far from guaranteed and not without collateral damage. The plan wasn’t approved.
In hindsight, that may have been the right decision given the constraints. But the lesson stuck with me: the longer you delay hard decisions and the less that you name reality, the harder—and sometimes nearly impossible—they become to fix. That core platform, beneath a handful of cosmetic updates, still powers what’s left of the customer base today but it is never regained its status as the shining star of the industry.
The parallels to civic infrastructure aren’t perfect—but they’re real. Delay doesn’t make problems disappear. It makes them harder, costlier, and riskier to solve. And it raises the stakes for getting it right.
Critical infrastructure—like the facilities that support safety, emergency response, and essential public services—is the backbone of a functioning community. These are the buildings that house first responders, keep municipal operations running, and help ensure Northbrook remains safe, responsive, and well-serviced.
The Fleet Maintenance Garage is the hub for maintaining every vehicle and piece of equipment used by the Village—from fire engines and ambulances to police cars, snow plows, and dump trucks. It may operate behind the scenes, but it’s mission-critical: the reliability of Northbrook’s essential services depends on this facility running smoothly.
Originally built in 1956 as part of the Village’s Public Works facility—with a second service building added in 1967—the Fleet Garage now struggles to keep up with the demands of modern operations. At just over 13,000 square feet, it’s undersized for the scale and complexity of today’s fleet. Ceiling heights range from 13 to 18 feet—sufficient decades ago, but barely adequate now. Large tower trucks clear the ceiling by mere inches, often brushing against a hanging air conditioning unit as they enter the bay.
There are four light-duty lifts, two heavy-duty lifts, and limited staging capacity—enough for 8 to 10 vehicles, depending on size. But the real issue is space. The garage lacks adequate room to safely conduct repairs, store parts, and house out-of-service vehicles or surplus materials. Hazardous materials and fabrication tasks cannot be separated into designated areas, and the absence of compliant storage introduces unnecessary risk.
The building itself is deteriorating. Foundation cracks, outdated electrical systems, and recurring plumbing problems are just the start. There’s no air conditioning, and water infiltration is common in both the stairwell and basement. That basement, still in use for storage, lacks fire egress—a major safety hazard.
Upstairs, a cramped mezzanine doubles as a locker room and break area but is overrun with storage and provides little comfort or privacy. Restroom facilities are outdated and fall short of modern workplace standards—particularly for a diverse workforce.
The site also presents logistical challenges. Tucked between park space, a water tower, and a public access road, there’s no room to expand. Large vehicles must navigate tight turns and blind spots just to enter or exit the building—raising day-to-day safety concerns. This isn’t just an aging facility—it’s one that no longer supports the scale or complexity of the work it’s meant to enable.
Fire Station 11 is one of Northbrook’s three fire stations. Originally built in 1971—with an administrative addition added in 1989—it was designed for a very different era. At the time, the fire department responded to fewer than 500 calls per year. Today, that number has climbed to more than 7,600. Yet the station coordinating much of that response has not kept pace.
It now serves not only as an active firehouse but also as Northbrook’s Emergency Operations Center (EOC)—a vital hub in times of crisis. But the EOC room is undersized and outdated, lacking the modern systems and technology found in peer communities.
The station’s physical layout creates additional operational and safety concerns. Living quarters are split between two floors, adding time to emergency response. The building’s rear-facing entrance often confuses visitors. Inside, the apparatus bay—intended to house emergency vehicles—is cluttered with storage that has nowhere else to go, increasing both delays and hazards.
The infrastructure itself is deteriorating. HVAC, plumbing, and electrical systems are outdated and unreliable—creating discomfort and potential safety risks for staff who work 24-hour shifts. Storage for essential tools, equipment, and PPE is inadequate. And the station still lacks proper locker rooms and sleeping quarters for female firefighters and paramedics, who currently use repurposed administrative space instead.
Its location compounds these issues. Station 11 sits immediately adjacent to active train tracks—posing a serious risk in the event of a derailment. A major water main also runs beneath the building. If it were to rupture, key fire department assets could be compromised or lost.
Station 11 has long been the operational heart of Northbrook’s fire services. But its ability to support that role—safely and effectively—is under increasing strain.
The Northbrook Police Station is the central hub for law enforcement, crime prevention, and emergency response in the Village. Every service—from patrols and dispatch to investigations and equipment housing—flows through this facility on Landwehr Road. Yet the building is no longer up to the task.
Originally built in 1974 as a joint police and fire station, it was partially converted in 1996 after the Fire Department relocated. What remains is a patchwork of retrofits—adapted over time, but never redesigned to meet the modern scope of police work.
When first constructed, the department had a staff of 60. Today, that number has grown to 96—66 sworn officers and 28 civilian employees. But the building hasn’t kept pace. It’s undersized, short on storage, and lacks the space needed for nearly every major function.
The Investigations Unit operates in cramped quarters with limited space for private interviews or casework. The public lobby has just one report room, offering little privacy for residents reporting sensitive or traumatic events. The dispatch center—so critical to emergency response—is outdated and too small. Booking, fingerprinting, and jail areas are no longer compliant with modern standards and only remain operable due to “grandfathered” status. These conditions pose both operational and safety challenges.
Infrastructure problems add to the strain. Roof drainage issues have caused recurring water damage. The on-site firing range lacks proper ventilation, exposing staff to health risks from airborne gunpowder. There’s no large, modern meeting space for officer briefings, public forums, or community training—an increasingly vital part of police transparency and preparedness.
For officers working extended or overnight shifts, there are no proper sleeping quarters. Locker rooms are overcrowded and poorly equipped, especially for female staff. There is no nursing room and limited accommodations overall—clear signs of a facility designed for a different era.
And yet, this aging building remains the core of public safety in Northbrook. That fact alone speaks volumes about the dedication of the people who work there—and how far the infrastructure has fallen behind.
If reading all that about our three critical facilities felt daunting—imagine how it feels for the Village employees who work in those conditions every day. And if it makes you wonder what else in Northbrook is silently deteriorating and may soon need urgent attention, it should.
It’s no exaggeration to say that all three buildings have outlived their ability to reliably support the people and services they were built for. That’s not just a reflection of age—it’s a reflection of how much the demands on these facilities have changed.
The good news? There is meaningful movement on all three fronts.
In August 2024, the Village Board approved the $998,000 purchase of a two-acre parcel at 820 Dundee Road to serve as the future site of Fire Station 11. The new station is now in the design phase, with construction expected to begin in August 2025 and wrap by summer 2026. It will operate as a satellite station.
The long-term home for Fire Administration remains undecided. Options under consideration include temporarily remaining at the current location, relocating to Station 10 on Huehl Road, or potentially incorporating Fire Administration into a future station at Northbrook Court.
In the January 2025 State of the Village address, the Village President confirmed that the project is progressing: “We have purchased a piece of land adjacent to that – we own it – so we are now to number three, site design. So, we're at present doing the schematic design; we will then move to design development. We will start the bidding in May and we will start construction August of this year. We're going to get a new work on a fire station to open in the summer [of 2026].”
At the same meeting in August 2024, the Village Board also approved the $2.3 million purchase of 3504 Commercial Drive—a 30,000-square-foot facility in the Sky Harbor area—to serve as the future home of the Fleet Maintenance Garage. Construction is expected to take place between June and October 2025.
This update was also included in the Village President’s January 2025 remarks: “[The] good news is we've purchased a building in the Sky Harbor area that's 30,000 square ft, that has very high ceilings, that is going to be able to accommodate all of our Public Works needs fleet-wise. There's a four-step process I'm going to be talking about for a few different facilities – needs assessment, site acquisition (which we've completed), right now we are in the site design phase. So, we are working with architects to do the schematic design, which is really the layout of the site and then the design, development, the blueprints, the detail. Village staff is working with the executive team at Public Works to really come up with the right plan for this spot. We expect to go to bid, this year, between April and June, and start construction at the latest in October of 2025 to open the summer of 2026. The reason there's a gap between the June and October is because the current tenant, Glenkirk, has purchased a building – they're leaving – but they are doing some construction on their new building. So, if they get out earlier, we'll start earlier.”
Lastly, progress on a new Police Station is underway, though it remains in early and somewhat uncertain stages. On January 14, 2025, the Village Board approved the $499,000 purchase of a one-acre parcel at 3105 Walters Avenue. This acquisition expands the total site from 3.5 to 4.5 acres—still short of the 5.6 acres recommended in a prior space needs study. A site-fit study is now underway to determine whether a full rebuild can happen in place.
A 2023 analysis concluded that reconstructing the station on its current site would likely be cost-prohibitive, largely due to the need for a temporary relocation of police operations. Nonetheless, the Village is re-evaluating that path. If the site proves viable, the design and construction process could take up to three years. The Grainger property remains under consideration as a potential temporary location during that time.
As the Village President explained in January 2025: “Police station, this one is tougher. Right now, we're at stage two – we're looking at site acquisition. We have some choices here. Under consideration is to build on site and move to a temporary location while we do that. The blue box [on the presentation] is the entirety of the police department now. I'm not even sure of the year but, a prior board – not this board – knew that we were going to have to make some changes at police [and] knew we were outgrowing it, so the prior board purchased an option on a piece of land which is boxed in the yellow [on the presentation]. That land came up for sale and so the village is purchasing that land so we have more room, should we be able to put the police department back there. We're studying that to see if that's possible. But, the other thought is we can acquire a new site and sell the current location for development. So those are things that we are presently looking at.”
That momentum is finally materializing is encouraging. These are not easy projects to plan or deliver, and this Board inherited infrastructure needs that had gone unaddressed for far too long. It’s also fair to acknowledge that funding, sequencing, and logistics have presented real structural challenges—not excuses, but legitimate constraints that demand careful navigation.
Municipal construction brings complexities that the private sector rarely faces: multi-year planning horizons, overlapping regulatory reviews, constrained budgets, and the need to secure public support. And when it comes to first responder facilities, location matters—proximity, access, and response times have a direct bearing on community safety. Even identifying viable land can take years.
The fact that these projects are now underway speaks to persistence, coordination, and a willingness to confront long-standing issues. That deserves real recognition. The challenge ahead isn’t only to complete the work—but to do so in a way that earns trust, invites transparency, and keeps residents meaningfully engaged.
Still, while this recent momentum is welcome, the road here has included its share of missed timelines and shifting projections—something many municipalities grapple with. But when optimism consistently outpaces delivery, public trust begins to erode. That’s a pattern worth acknowledging—and addressing.
Consider the Village President’s remarks over three consecutive State of the Village addresses. Each one acknowledged the aging condition of Northbrook’s key public facilities and emphasized the need for action. And yet, across three years, the language remains rooted in description and aspiration rather than any achieved milestones. This pattern may help explain why some residents struggle to reconcile the rhetoric with the pace of visible change.
January 2022: “With respect to village facilities, we've got to invest in our village facilities. We're going to take a comprehensive review in 2022 [as] we've got fire station 11 built in 1971, our police station [was] built in 1974, and our public works building going back to 1956. These buildings were not built for the technology and equipment we have today. We have to change that if we're going to continue to deliver world-class services. We need to have world-class facilities.”
January 2023: “We've got a great bunch of Village staff who have made old kind of obsolete buildings work for a very long time but we're sort of at the point where we can't have that go on. We've got a police station that is not modernized – it doesn't allow for maybe the best flow so we're going to have to take a look at replacing that police station. Fire station #11, which is on Dundee Road near Skokie Boulevard, [is] an original. It's a special building. I’m a little embarrassed to say, it doesn't have quarters for women so our female firefighters utilize the administrative space for their sleeping quarters when necessary. Firefighters are 24 hours on 48 hours off. We are storing the equipment and we're kind of up to the rafters so Fire station #11 is going to get probably a new spot. And then we have a Public Works garage that was built in the 1950s and fire trucks were like “this big” now the fire trucks are like “this big” and they don't fit. So, we need a new Public Works garage and we are in the midst of working with architects and builders to determine what our needs are, what our space can be, and maybe we can leverage some partnerships to make a facility that can be used and modernized by the community and other communities for Public Safety.”
January 2024: “So, the big three [Fire Station #11, Police Station, Fleet Garage]. Fire station number 11 – wow, fire station number 11 – is the fire station that's on Dundee Road. It's absolutely obsolete. It's interesting as all get out to go in there. It's located too close to the train tracks, too close to our water main – which is dangerous for a whole bunch of reasons, we don't have appropriate living quarters. You can imagine as it was built in 1971, men were firefighters exclusively in 1971. Now that we are gender inclusive, we don't have adequate quarters for women. And then our department headquarters and our Emergency Management Center is there. But as luck would have it, just over a little bit, we may be getting some land on that Green Acres site where we can build a brand new fire station. Our police station, that too is obsolete. Our booking, fingerprinting, and jail areas are outdated – we're grandfathered in. You'd never build it the way it's built now. There are some safety issues. There are staffing location issues – we have four people sharing one office in our counseling department. So, we don't have adequate space there – so we're going to get another police station sometime soon. Our Fleet Maintenance Garage, which is actually behind Village Hall – it's just right out that way [and] you can go by [it]. That was built in 1956. Our large equipment [like] our big fire trucks don't fit in there. If you go by sometimes, you'll see our mechanics working on those machines half in and half out of the garage. So, we really do need a new Fleet Maintenance Garage. We are aggressively moving toward getting those things done. Right now, we're on step three, we're looking for sites, we're looking to design and construct new facilities.”
Now, consider the timeline of the Village’s facility planning process:
- 2016–2017 – Ad Hoc Facilities Committee initiates assessments
- March 2019 – Facility Condition and Needs Assessments completed
- March 2020–November 2021 – COVID-related delays
- November 2021 – Board reviews prior work and outlines next steps
- December 2021 – RFQ issued for construction management
- May 2022 – Leopardo hired as construction manager
- August 2022 – Project status update presented to Board
- August 2022 – RFQ issued for architectural services
- October–November 2022 – FGMA selected and contract approved
- February 2023 – Space Needs presentation to Board
- April 2023 – Space Needs Report formally accepted
- April–May 2023 – Public tours and Police site feasibility discussion
The Village President has described this as “aggressively moving toward getting those things done,” and the current campaign pledge is to “fast-track” these projects. But if this is what urgency looks like, it’s fair to ask: How do we define urgency in local government? And more importantly, how might we act with greater clarity, discipline, and momentum—without losing the care that public projects rightly demand?
At the same time, the Caucus has made experience the centerpiece of its platform—while dismissing the qualifications of the challengers, even questioning the commitment of three lifelong Northbrook residents. But experience is only as valuable as the outcomes it enables. Without reflection and growth, long tenure can become a blind spot. It’s worth asking: are we learning and adapting—or simply leaning on time served?
Back in 2022, a fair question in response to the State of the Village update might have been: If these facilities are so outdated and their flaws so evident, why hasn’t more been done over the past 13 years on the Board? Too often, the updates have sounded less like the voice of a seasoned leader and more like someone just coming to grips with the issues. These moments are opportunities to educate the public and set clear expectations—not simply to describe problems that have long needed solutions.
This pattern isn’t limited to facilities. Consider the Village’s approach to another “fast-track” initiative: digital water meters.
January 2022: “The village has engaged in some preliminary conversations with ComEd [and] this is something that we're going to be studying but there's technology out there where you can replace the water meter and have it work much like your ComEd meter on the same system where it reads it you know wirelessly where you can go to an app and you can see how much water you're using. You can really monitor so yes that's something that we've talked about preliminarily and I anticipate will go forward as far as studying the issue and then perhaps coming to the board with proposals before doing that.”
January 2023: “We have over 14,000 water meters in the community. We're going to go digital – you're going to be able to do what you do with your electricity. You're going to look at your smartphone and you're going to know, holy cow I have a toilet that's running, or, boy oh boy my water bill is looking kind of high, my kids are home from college we've got 30 minute showers. Whatever it is we're going to be able to tell and it'll be an upgrade for folks.”
January 2024: “Northbrook is the only inland community in the Chicago area that gets water directly from Lake Michigan. So, the water treatment plant there's a pipe that goes all the way down Dundee Road, straight out into Lake Michigan, and that's how we get our water. We have 12,000 retail customers and we sell 1.6B gallons of water annually. So, those 12,400 and some water customers are all going to get digital water meters. It's going to take us 3 years to change out 12,000 water meters but we're going to start in April of this year so – excuse me September of this year – so you'll be able to monitor your water use on your phone with an app and hopefully this will help in our sustainability efforts.”
October 2024: An internal Village memorandum indicated the project’s cost was now estimated at $10.7 million—higher than originally budgeted—and the ROI remained unclear. The memo also noted that staff was still working toward a final recommendation.
January 2025: “The reality is your ComEd meter, several years ago, [was] replaced and you've got technology that allows you to look and see what your usage is. The same technology applies so with these new water meters you're going to tap in actually to that ComEd Wi-Fi and you're going to be able to not have any anybody come into your house to read the meter, you're not going to get a note that says ‘Hey, you have to clean the cobwebs off the the little window’, that that's all going to be done and these are going to read digitally so and there'll be an online customer portal. One of the fun facts was on that slide that I kind of quickly passed, we have over 12,000 water meters in the village. We're going to start in earnest in the summer of 2025 to be done in 2026.”
In summary: Two years of upbeat but vague updates gave way to a more concrete plan in 2024, which called for a three-year implementation beginning that September. But by October, no recommendation had been made to the board, the cost was up, and the project hadn’t started. By January 2025, the timeline had changed again: the rollout would now begin in the summer and finish within a single year—not three.
Technology rollouts are hard—public or private. But given the pattern of shifting timelines, residents have good reason to be skeptical.
The same pattern emerges in another 2025 Caucus Platform promise: to deliver a “soon-to-be finished new zoning code which will be easier to navigate, less cumbersome, and friendlier for today’s businesses’ needs.”
Consider how this topic has been addressed in four consecutive State of the Village addresses.
January 2022: “We're going to revise our zoning code to be more up-to-date, more customer friendly. We want people to say Northbrook is a great town to work with, Northbrook is easy to work with, Northbrook is a friendly community to develop in. It's going to take two years. We're going to revise that zoning code.”
January 2023: “We're taking our zoning code and we're embarking on a two-year process to modernize the whole thing. As you all know, I hate it when somebody says to me Northbrook is not business friendly – I hate it. So, one of the things we're going to do is we're going to take the zoning code and we're going to make it a 2023 zoning code. We want a simplified processes – we still want to be safe – but we want to make do things that make sense.”
January 2024: “One of the things that I've said to you [for] three years in a row is that I can't stand when people say Northbrook is not welcoming to businesses, [or] Northbrook is difficult to work with (with respect to development). This village board has set out to change that perception and it's working but I don't want you to take my word for it listen to what developers are saying.” ([Plays video from Lazy Dog and Napolita developers.])
January 2025: “I've come here – this is my fourth state of the village – and I have said to you all that it is like nails on a chalkboard to me when people say Northbrook is not development-friendly. Nails on a chalkboard. Can't stand it. So, we've taken a lot of steps to change that – not just the way the board approaches developers that come in or make inquiries [but also] we made a change to our process which allows the village board to work with the plan commission directly in a streamlined fashion to expedite projects. Another thing that we're doing is completely overhauling our zoning code. Our zoning code is from the 80s and, for those of you that don't remember that’s big hair, hair bands, lots of that, remember that? Thank God we're past that. So, we're doing an overhaul. The overhaul – what does that get us? It gets us a more accessible plan so that means it's friendly for people. You don't need a degree in architecture engineering to be able to understand what you're looking at. If you want to put an addition on your house or come into the community, it's going to promote growth. Why? Because it's going to make it easier. It's going to make it easier for people to do improvements, or new construction in the village. It's going to align our requirements with the industry standards. How many people come in and ask us for parking exceptions, or have issues – we're going to be where we should be today. It's going to modernize different categories and it was going to advance sustainability initiatives which is where everything is going.”
In summary: It was going to take two years in 2022. It was still going to take two years in 2023. By 2025, it’s “soon-to-be finished”—but with no target date announced. Of course, overhauling an entire zoning code is a complex and important undertaking. But as with other projects, the shifting language over time leaves residents unsure when to expect results—and whether current projections will hold. Hope for completion remains. So does the pattern.
These examples aren’t one-offs. They reflect a broader pattern—one that undercuts the claim of “specific plans, proven progress, real results.” In fact, it’s a bit surreal to watch a group that has repeatedly overpromised accuse its opponents of making “endless promises”.
The same dynamic shows up in other long-standing priorities. I’ve previously raised concerns about affordable housing—an issue the Board has repeatedly named as a focus. But real movement has been minimal. In fairness, these are difficult challenges to solve. Still, good intentions without measurable progress are hard to defend over time.
Take the Grainger property. While some of the delay predates the current board—and the original acquisition was initiated by a prior board that included the current Village President—it’s worth revisiting how confidently the project was described in 2021: “Purchasing Grainger was an outstanding opportunity for us because it helps us control the downtown. Northbrook has gotten several calls from developers who want to purchase the property. We will make money on the property, absolutely.”
Today, nearly seven years after the property was acquired, the Village still owns most of it. No construction has begun. While I’m genuinely hopeful about the HODC proposal now on the table, this timeline speaks volumes.
Northbrook Court follows a similar trajectory. There’s no denying that it’s a complex situation with many outside factors. Still, we’ve seen repeated updates that strike a confident tone—despite limited visible outcomes. Yet the platform assures voters: “Northbrook Court is a huge opportunity and having experienced leaders get it right is critical.”
Across these efforts, the recurring theme is the gap between words and results. When that gap becomes habitual, public trust doesn’t just erode—it fractures. Experience does matter. But when experience doesn’t lead to outcomes, it’s usually what causes voters to lose confidence—and leaders to lose elections.
Perhaps we have a Village President whose optimism, while deeply felt, hasn’t always translated into the results residents were promised. Optimism isn’t a flaw in leadership—far from it. But when the current Caucus-endorsed slate highlights 33 years of collective board experience—and the current Village President alone accounts for 16 of them—it’s fair to ask how that experience has moved the needle. If initiatives are years overdue, then some share of the delay rests with those who’ve been at the helm.
One of the recent campaign emails framed the election this way: “This election is about more than just saying what we’re against—it’s about choosing a path forward. Do we allow fear or politics to hold us back? Or do we come together to find smart, collaborative solutions that move Northbrook ahead? I believe in a Northbrook that’s proactive, inclusive, and ready to tackle the future—not shy away from it.”
I agree. This election should absolutely be about choosing a path forward. But to do that effectively, we also have to be honest about the path that’s gotten us here.
Yes, I’m someone who has concerns about public initiative updates that don’t connect back to previous ones—or that lack real, measurable progress. But I also believe that whoever wins this election has a chance to raise the bar. Most residents understand that being a trustee is a demanding, quasi-volunteer job filled by well-meaning neighbors. We’re not asking for more hours. What we’re asking for is more accountability—more transparency, more follow-through, and more curiosity about what might work better.
Especially now, what Northbrook needs most is a Board that’s open to challenging old assumptions, willing to listen deeply, and ready to govern with both urgency and humility. That’s how we build trust. That’s how we move forward.
With that spirit in mind, here are a few ideas I hope the next Board will consider.
First, a more visible focus on outcomes over process. Government rightly includes layers of checks, procedures, and public input. But process should serve the outcome—not become the outcome. When safety risks to Village employees persist for years while planning meetings pile up and final decisions remain elusive, something isn’t working. To my knowledge, there hasn’t been a consistent public conversation about how the Village might adapt its approach to deliver results more effectively. I’m not advocating that we cut corners on diligence or community engagement—and I’m certainly not suggesting that outside voices should be dismissed just because they lack formal Village experience. The Board should regularly ask itself: Are we still moving toward the result we promised? And if not: What needs to change?
Second, broaden the range of experience represented—formally and informally—on the Board. Northbrook is fortunate to have trustees with deep public-sector and planning expertise, including one with a strong track record of leading complex engineering efforts. That’s valuable—and something I hope we continue to benefit from. But complementary experience also matters. The Board would benefit from voices who’ve led large organizations, built programs or products from scratch, or driven complicated transformations under pressure. That doesn’t require replacing anyone—but it does require recognizing where blind spots might exist and actively inviting more perspectives in. I’ve heard that it’s difficult to get residents to volunteer for commissions and committees. But I haven’t seen much reflection on why that might be—or any sort of proactive effort to engage people beyond a link buried on the Village website. Northbrook has no shortage of thoughtful, experienced, engaged residents. If we want to tap into that, we have to go get them. I’ve been told that one of the strengths of a former Village President was the ability to consistently seek out diverse, even conflicting viewpoints—then form a thoughtful point of view and chart a path forward. That’s a quality I hope the next Board works to emulate.
Third, build a stronger culture of learning through post-mortems. In most business environments, major initiatives are followed by structured reviews: What worked? What didn’t? What should we change next time? Some organizations even conduct pre-mortems—anticipating what could go wrong and adjusting their strategy before launching. These practices don’t just build institutional memory—they encourage honesty, reinforce accountability, and challenge assumptions using actual outcomes. If the Village adopted a formal process for reviewing major projects—especially long, complex ones like facility replacements—it could strengthen both internal decision-making and public trust. Residents don’t just want to see activity. They want to see learning, reflection, and improvement.
At the end of the day, this piece isn’t meant to tear anyone down. I understand how much effort goes into running a village—especially one like Northbrook, where expectations are often unreasonably high, resources are finite, complexity is real, and the personal reward for serving is almost entirely intrinsic. In many areas, progress is happening. That deserves recognition.
Just look at what it took to get Fire Station 11 and the Fleet Garage moving—then imagine what might be possible with a little more focus on outcomes and even modest streamlining of process. That’s a reason for optimism.
But acknowledging progress doesn’t mean turning off the critical lens. In fact, it calls for the opposite. We should be most engaged when things start moving—not just to celebrate momentum, but to help sustain it, guide it, and ensure it results in meaningful impact.
I don’t have all the answers. I’m not running for anything. I’m just a resident who cares deeply about where we’re headed—and how we get there. My hope is that by taking stock of where we’ve been—and being honest about what’s worked and what hasn’t—we can raise the bar for how we govern, how we communicate, and how we grow.
This isn’t about blame. It’s about progress—and how we make more of it, together.