JAMES F. BERG, the president of the Realty Advisory Board on Labor Relations, is a man who does not relish change. The board, which represents owners of commercial and residential property in the city, is the only place he has ever worked, although a change of office space a few years ago forced him to relocate a few floors down.þþHe even conducted the courtship of his future wife, Nancy, with a minimum of fuss: she lived next door to a house he was renting with friends when he came back from serving in Vietnam.þþÿI met her five or six years after I moved in,ÿ he said. ÿShe was divorced. We dated for several years. We got married. It wasn't a long commute. I walked next door.ÿþþMr. Berg, 58, is a reserved man with a trim white mustache. He keeps his emotions in check, although when deadlines loom to cement the deals reached by the city's building owners and the approximately 55,000 unionized employees who work in commercial and residential buildings, he confesses to increasing his consumption of cigarettes. An ashtray on his desk had several crushed cigarette butts. This round of negotiations ended last week without a strike and with both sides claiming victory.þþÿWhen it gets to the end of the negotiations it gets tough,ÿ he said. ÿEach side can get annoyed, but my job is not to succumb to anger. Decisions made out of anger are usually not good ones. I am always reasonably calm. I stay above that, but there are times I have to get up and go for a walk. And then I have this lousy habit. I'll try the patches again.ÿþþHaving the inclination to stay put is an asset in his job, as in his life, especially in the marathon negotiating sessions, which usually take place in a hotel. The employees are represented by Local 32BJ, part of the Service Employees International Union.þþÿHe is a class act,ÿ said Michael P. Fishman, the president of Local 32BJ. ÿHe is even-tempered. He never gets flustered. He is personable. He knows the issues well, but he is also just a decent person.ÿþþMr. Berg's sang-froid, however, was put through a long, difficult test by the union for much of the last 20 years. For most of that time, he sat opposite Gus Bevona, a union leader whose imperial hubris — he lived in a lavish penthouse with marble bathrooms atop the union headquarters — made him one of the most prickly and unpredictable negotiators in the city. Talks rarely took place at the scheduled times, but rather at the whim of Mr. Bevona, who once called and insisted that Mr. Berg drive to Long Island for a roadside meeting in the middle of the night.þþÿHe was a tough guy to deal with,ÿ Mr. Berg said with characteristic understatement, ÿbut I had to deal with him, so I dealt with him.ÿþþMr. Berg was born in the Bronx in what is now Throgs Neck. His father was a labor union lawyer. Mr. Berg went off track in high school, ÿhanging out with the wrong crowd.ÿ This got him sent to the Eastern Military Academy, then on Long Island.þþÿIt straightened me out,ÿ he said.þþHe was in the R.O.T.C. program at Fordham, where the Army paid for him to learn how to fly. But his training was cut short in 1965 when a commuter plane came up behind him and crashed into the Piper Colt he was flying, shearing off its tail and wings. He plummeted 2,300 feet to the ground. The pilot of the other plane was killed.þþÿI did not lose consciousness,ÿ he said. ÿI had no idea what happened. I spun downwards like a maple seed. I could not force my hands down to undo my belt. I remembered reading that a pilot once bailed out of a B-17 without a parachute before it reached the ground, landed in some trees and lived. Unfortunately, I could not bail out.ÿþþHe suffered internal bleeding, was hospitalized, and returned to the program. His flying days were effectively ended, although he wears a gold Seiko pilot's watch as a reminder of that more adventurous time.þþAfter college, he received a draft deferment to go to law school. He said he never expected to be sent to Vietnam, even though he knew he was eventually headed into the Army.þþÿAt that time, when the war started, everyone expected the problem to be over in six months.ÿþþHe worked in Vietnam running field medical units, overseeing the evacuation of wounded and, as the war wound down, the gradual closing of field hospitals.þþÿIt was not my favorite year,ÿ he said. ÿBut in some ways it was a positive experience. I dealt with many different people. I was young and I did big, important things. I helped save lives. I learned the value of coordination and cooperation. I learned how to get things done.ÿþþ þA WEEK after his return from Vietnam, he went, on his father's advice, for an interview at the realty board.þþÿWe were upstairs then,ÿ he said, ÿon the 24th floor. I was hired and have been here for 32 years.ÿþþWhen asked what he would do if he were not on the board, he was quiet for a moment.þþÿI don't know,ÿ he said. ÿI guess I would be a lawyer somewhere. This is all I ever wanted to do.ÿ His wife's two sons, whom he helped raise, are now in their 30's. On weekends he likes to fish in a small boat he keeps at home in Bay Shore, on Long Island.þþÿIt is the center of the earth,ÿ he says about New York and his house. ÿBut maybe everyone feels that way about where they live.ÿþþ
Source: NY Times
