Elly Tierney’s hands won’t stay still.
They fly across the small tabletop between us, her immaculate white nails tracing links between problems and the people who frustrated solutions during her two terms on the Annapolis City Council.
Time is short. She will step down Sept. 1 as alderwoman for Ward 1, the historic heart of Maryland’s state capital. She and her husband, Joe, will drive off to retirement in Cape Cod after Labor Day.
But before she goes, Tierney has a few parting words for the city she leaves behind.
“Stop. Just stop,” she said. “Because by doing all this, nothing happens.”
“All this” is negativity. It’s common to most small towns, but Annapolis sometimes has it by the bucketful. New ideas face opposition because they are new, and all changes are filtered through the familiar prism of long-standing factions.
“In the beginning, I was very naive politically or whatever,” said Tierney, first elected in 2017. “And what happens in Annapolis is, negative voices are really strong, right? Especially in Ward 1.”
In a wide-ranging interview, the Democrat expressed frustration with hearing the refrain of no-no-no, which she says keeps local problems from ever getting solved.
She has a maddening sense of council inertia, which she says makes a good case for term limits. She’s tired of bickering over the massive remake of the downtown waterfront, even as she says the resulting parking debacle drives her constituents nuts.
The alderwoman discussed her ambition to run as Mayor Gavin Buckley’s successor, and pointed to the one big thing Annapolis must resolve if it ever hopes to move past its legacy of historic racism.
It’s a lot.
“You’re the only person I’ve talked to,” Tierney said.
Then there is the conspiracy theory regarding her departure. Because she resigned less than 16 months before the November 2025 election, Tierney’s replacement will be selected by city Democratic leadership and appointed by the mayor.
The Democratic Central Committee will hold a public hearing at 7 p.m. on Sept. 3. They’ll hear from candidates Ron Gunzburger, a former advisor to Gov. Larry Hogan; former committee Treasurer Harry M. Huntley; business executives Tom Krieck and Tom Sells; and former Buckley Campaign Strategist Genevieve Torri.
Republican leaders have criticized the timing, saying Tierney intentionally chose Sept. 1 to avoid a special election. There currently are no Republicans on the council, and Tierney ran unopposed in 2021.
Tierney says she and Joe began discussing retirement during a trip to the Cape in the spring. The sale of her condo happened much sooner than expected but then was delayed when inspection uncovered a structural problem. The couple needed the money from the sale to move. The resolution of it all was coincidental to the deadline, she said.
“Well, for Christ’s sake, get a good candidate that’s going to run the city,” Tierney said. “I just am furious about that. It shouldn’t be that political. I’m not that political.”
If Tierney is frustrated with Republicans, she’s equally exasperated with council Democrats’ inability to solve problems. It’s a remarkable statement from a public figure with her own reputation for dithering.
She points to Alderman Ross Arnett as an example. The longest serving council member has been working on legislation regulating outdoor dining for four years. Together, their wards have more restaurants with parking spaces converted into dining space than the rest of the city combined.
That results in more pressure on city services, she said, and increased competition for street parking. Tierney wants restaurateurs to all pay a fair fee for increased occupancy. She let Arnett take the lead, a decision she now regrets. Arnett, for his part, admits he’s been unable to find consensus.
“He’s just gonna keep floating it out there,” Tierney said. “It’s not gonna happen.”
She sees a solution in term limits, an idea floated by Alderwoman Karma O’Neill. Arnett, Sheila Finlayson and Rhonda Pindell Charles have all been on the council for 15 years or more. O’Neill, who is in her first term, said there seems to be little support for it.
“There’s a problem where we don’t have enough people running for office, and they’re sitting back saying, ‘Well, why?’” Tierney said. “You know, I know.”
Tierney wanted to run for mayor, succeeding Buckley next year. But while she vacillated over the $100,000 needed to campaign, former alderman Jared Littmann launched his bid in December — almost two years before election day.
He scooped up Democratic endorsements, volunteers and money. In July, he announced he had raised $104,000.
“I can’t do my job as an alderperson and run for mayor and compete with Jared at the same time,” Tierney said. “I was sort of sad about that. I was mad at Jared getting in so early.”
Then, Joe decided it was time to retire. He supported their move to Annapolis, running a B&B together, her decision to serve as president of the influential Ward One Residents Association and then run for council.
“It was his turn,” she said.
If Tierney can’t be mayor, she’s proven an ally of Buckley-as-change-agent in stodgy Annapolis. That includes the $100 million downtown resiliency project that will remake the historic waterfront in the face of climate change-driven flooding.
Tierney’s hands stop for a minute, and out comes a notebook. She sketches a diagram of the City Dock construction plan.
Over here is Whiting-Turner.
As much work as the Buckley administration put into the project, Tierney has more confidence in the lead construction contractor to pull it off. FEMA is supposed to put in $33 million but is still reviewing the plan. That makes breaking ground in October as planned increasingly iffy, and additional funds needed for the controversial maritime welcome center advocated by the mayor even more on the bubble.
“I do trust what they’re saying: ‘OK, we’re here for a resiliency project, and your welcome center is basically an add-on alternate. We’re not going to put a shovel in the ground until we have proof of funding, and that proof of funding may or may not include the welcome center,’” she said.
Over there is Premium Parking.
To help pay for the project, the city turned Hillman Parking Garage over to Premium Parking for 30 years, which paid the city $25 million. Some revenues will go to the Maryland Economic Development Corp. and pay off $45 million in bonds.
When the administration realized the 590 parking garage spaces wouldn’t generate enough revenue, it rolled two downtown parking districts into the deal — leading to what Tierney called complaints about poor service, non-working apps, and overzealous enforcement by Premium Parking.
“We can’t do anything unless it goes through [MEDCO]. ... If I stayed on, I think our pursuit would be to get them fired,” the alderwoman said.
Tierney can point to things that make her proud, as any politician leaving the stage would.
She’s proud of her resolution apologizing for the 1906 lynching of Henry Davis. She’s proud of a program — largely unused — to help downtown building owners install fire sprinklers.
Maybe her greatest regret is public housing. Residents of the city’s old Black ward were forced into public housing by 1960s urban renewal, and many of their families are still segregated there in deteriorating buildings.
The city, the Annapolis housing authority and its tenants are tangled in multimillion-dollar lawsuits over who is to blame for the conditions. The authority is close to insolvency. All sides pin their hopes on a federally endorsed plan to enlist $50 million in private money to redevelop the largest complex, Eastport Terrace and Harbor House.
Tierney knows the dysfunctional, acrimonious situation will make finding that pot of money hard. She questions whether forcing the authority into receivership and taking away financial control is the only way to move forward.
“It is our original sin. It is,” she said. “Until we address that, we are forever going to have this animosity between the haves and have-nots, with justifiable reason.”
Tierney’s hands are finally at rest. She puts away her notebook and heads for the door. As she walks up West Street she struggles to put it all in the past tense. There’s so much left to do.
“I mean, truth be told, I didn’t want to leave just yet,” she said. “And, in spite of what the Republicans say, I think I do a pretty damn good job as alderperson.”
