The End of the “Free Ride”

In the spring of 1981, Massachusetts municipalities were collectively holding their breath. The landmark tax-limiting measure known as Proposition 2½ had just passed the previous November, forcing towns across the Commonwealth to aggressively scrutinize their budgets, slash traditional spending, and hunt for entirely new ways to generate revenue.

When Norwood town meeting members gathered at Junior High School South on Monday, June 1, 1981, the tension of this new fiscal reality was palpable. But as Norwood often does, the community managed to face a changing municipal landscape with a healthy dose of Yankee pragmatism and sharp local humor.

The biggest philosophical battlefield of the night? A proposed $100 per trip charge for the Norwood Fire Department ambulance.

Monetizing the “One Heck of a P.R.” Move

Up until 1981, a ride in a Norwood ambulance was entirely “free”—wholly subsidized by local taxpayers. Three years prior, the town had attempted to charge a modest $20 per run, but because billing was handled internally, the collection rate sat at a dismal 30%. The program was quietly abandoned.

With Proposition 2½ tightening the screws, Fire Chief Thomas J. Barry Jr. came to town meeting with a new plan: spend $7,500 to hire an aggressive outside professional billing agency.

Chief Barry estimated that with a projected 1,000 “billable” ambulance runs per year and a modern collection rate of over 80% by billing insurance companies directly, the fee could generate $65,000 to $70,000 in net income (roughly equivalent to $230,000 today) to directly offset soaring fire department costs.

Not everyone was convinced. Finance Commission Chairman Peter Bamber stood in opposition, arguing passionately for the old way of doing things. Philosophically, Bamber argued, a free emergency ride was a fundamental community benefit.

“We believe it’s a service—one heck of a p.r. for the fire department,” Bamber noted, tongue slightly in cheek, adding that the fire department “could use” the good publicity.

Town meeting member George Morrice (District 4) voiced the frustration of the average taxpayer, sensing a double-dipping maneuver. “I don’t think that’s right,” Morrice argued, objecting to being taxed to fund the fire department, only to be hit with a $100 bill when an emergency actually struck. Selectman William J. Plasko countered, stating the fee simply applied the practical rule of modern municipal survival: the user pays their specific share.

The Fate of the Unpopular Resident

While Chief Barry assured the hall that 90% of ambulance riders were covered by private insurance, Medicare, or Medicaid, the debate quickly pivoted to the remaining 10% of uninsured residents. What would happen to a Norwood neighbor who simply couldn’t afford the $100 bill?

Chief Barry explained that after three unpaid bills were sent by the agency, the final decision to pursue legal collections would rest entirely with the Board of Selectmen. Selectmen Chairman John F. Kinnaly tried to soothe worries, promising that each unpaid third bill would be “judged on its own merits.”

This hint of official benevolence was far too vague for John W. Hayes of District 2.

Hayes stepped to the microphone and dryly predicted the flaw in leaving the decision to political discretion. If a guy who is “not particularly liked by selectmen” couldn’t pay, Hayes observed, “I think he’s got a problem.”

The hall erupted in laughter. The joke perfectly cut through the heavy, dry atmosphere of a three-hour budget meeting, highlighting the intensely personal, tight-knit nature of Norwood’s district politics.

A Sign of the Times

Recognizing the writing on the wall under the new tax cap, various members tried to amend the motion. Hugh T. Field (District 5) suggested that no bills ever be sent to uninsured riders, and Walter J. Grady (District 9) pushed to explicitly exempt all uninsured town residents to eliminate any hesitation people might have about calling 911.

Ultimately, the pragmatism of the era won out. The $7,500 was quietly voted into the Town Treasurer’s budget without any restrictive strings attached, paving the way for the $100 fee to take effect that summer.

The vote marked the literal end of the “free ride” in Norwood, serving as an early milestone in the town’s transition toward modern, fee-for-service municipal management. It proved that while Proposition 2½ was changing the rules of local government forever, it couldn’t change Norwood’s classic Town Meeting wit.

Did you or your family live through the budget crunches of the early 1980s in Norwood? We are actively collecting local perspectives, town meeting anecdotes, and memories of Norwood during the Proposition 2½ transition. Share your stories with us at norwoodhistoricalsociety.org to help preserve our town’s political heritage!

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