Wanted: An angel
LINCOLN -- It is not what anyone would ever call a fair fight.
Charlie ''Kim" Fitts is, as one friend calls him, a homeless man living in a $3 million property. Philip DeNormandie is a Boston developer from a prominent Lincoln family whose plans more than a decade ago to build condominiums on the periphery of Walden Pond helped inspire a successful, high-profile campaign led by rock singer Don Henley to protect the woods that inspired naturalist Henry David Thoreau.
This time there is no media swarm, no rock stars, only one man hoping for an angel to show up on his doorstep. Time is running out: The auction of his home is Aug. 19.
Now a fragile 61, Fitts lives an eccentric's life, camping out in one room after another in the home his parents built a half-century ago. The place, once a trophy stop on the garden club's home tour when his mom was alive and well and his dad was a selectman, now reeks of mildew. The furniture is sparse and ruined. Fitts's cot is jammed in the kitchen next to the stove, the only source of heat in the winter, and a parakeet keeps him company. Over the past few years, he has lived at times without heat, lights, a phone, or a car. Now he survives mainly through the grace of his neighbors and the local food pantry.
''I can't say that I am massively ambitious," says Fitts, who limps around on a cane because of his arthritis, his gray hair and beard disheveled. ''But I have committed no crimes along the way."
What Fitts does have is 15 pristine acres in the most prized section of Lincoln, one of the state's wealthiest towns. But probably not for long.
For four years Fitts has battled DeNormandie to stay in the home he grew up in. The background, in short: When Fitts's mother died in 1994, she left the property to him and his older sister, Sylvia Napier, who lives in England. The two didn't get along, and in 2000, tired of carrying a house her brother lived in, Napier sold her half interest to DeNormandie for $690,000. Charlie Fitts refused to sell. DeNormandie immediately tried to charge Fitts rent, and asked a court to force a sale.
Says Fitts of DeNormandie: ''Greed can be a terrible thing. It is one of the seven deadly sins. I would put it right up at the top." Fitts and others in Lincoln believe DeNormandie wants the Fitts land to build an access road that will allow him to develop his family's 40 acres of adjoining land.
DeNormandie didn't return my calls but has said in the past that he has no plans to develop the Fitts land. ''My strong preference would have been to have the Fitts property stay in stable, long-term ownership, whether by Charlie or another residential owner," DeNormandie said in a letter to the editor in the Lincoln Journal. ''But the property was clearly threatened with development because of its increasingly fragmented ownership. I did what I believe many would try to do when faced with a similar threat on their doorstep, and I have tried to do it in a way that is fair to Charlie."
The auction has created a flurry of last-minute rescue plans to protect both Fitts and the land he so loves. In the end, Fitts may be forced to do what he has never been able to do -- finally move on with his life. But if he loses, DeNormandie has something to lose, too, and so does 250-year-old Lincoln, a town with a proud heritage of land conservation.
Once upon a time DeNormandie trimmed $2 million off his selling price to help the conservation efforts around Walden Pond. Now he needs to find an accommodation again. Charlie Fitts's home is at stake. Phil DeNormandie has something just as valuable at stake: his reputation for a bit of humanity.
Steve Bailey is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at bailey@globe.com or at 617-929-2902.
