Steven Stanton Explored Becoming Susan In Sarasota

SARASOTA - The day Largo city commissioners prepared to fire him, Steven Stanton got behind the wheel of his black Lexus E300, put in the Heidi Talbot CD he had bought at the Van Wezel Performing Arts Hall and drove to Sarasota.

He arrived at The Church of the Redeemer on Palm Avenue, where he had worshipped at least one Sunday a month for the past five years.

It was empty. Stanton slid into a pew and prayed for nearly two hours.

'I was not asking for wisdom,' said Stanton, who is now living full time as Susan Ashley Stanton and plans to undergo gender reassignment surgery.

'The only thing I was asking for was not to become angry or bitter over this.'

Stanton is back in Sarasota three months later as one of five finalists for the city manager position. She has been in town since Monday, meeting with neighborhood leaders, members of city advisory boards and - her favorite - chatting with strangers at coffee shops, the Selby Public Library or while wandering downtown.

It is not lobbying, she said. Only city commissioners decide who gets the job. It is research, getting to know the community that nurtured the woman she now is. 'Sarasota has been part of my life,' Stanton said in an interview Thursday at Metro Coffee & Wine.

'It's Susan's first home.'

The Largo City Commission's decision to fire Stanton, after learning he had started hormone therapy and planned to become a woman, has probably made Stanton the most famous city manager on the planet.

Figuring Out What Works

Sarasota was the place where Steven really became Susan.

It was where Stanton came to learn how to be comfortable as a woman in public.

At its restaurants, she tested out a black bobbed wig with thick bangs, a black dress and red lipstick before realizing the look did not work.

'I was looking for a community where I could be comfortable with who I am,' she said.

'Very quickly, I realized that Sarasota was a very inclusive community.'

It was also close enough to her home in Pinellas County, just beyond the Sunshine Skyway bridge, but far enough from the minds of its residents. Stanton knew her chances of running into anyone she knew were slim.

She never did.

'For whatever reason, that bridge serves as a psychological wall from Sarasota County,' she said.

'Steve lived in Largo. Susan lived in Sarasota. The bridge was a nice firewall.'

This week, Susan Stanton is toting around the city's strategic plan, trying to determine whether Sarasota 'is worthy of my passion,' she said.

On Thursday, she met with Stan Zimmerman, president of the Coalition of City Neighborhood Associations, and had dinner with former commissioner Mary Anne Servian.

She talked Wednesday with Linda Holland, the vice president of the Gillespie Park Neighborhood Association, about communication between the city and the neighborhoods.

'She was trying to find out exactly what the problems were and how, if she became city manager, she could solve them,' Holland said. 'I thought that was a really positive thing.'

Stanton strolled through downtown Monday with John Moran, president of the Downtown Condominium Association.

'We talked and walked,' Moran said. 'It turns out that she has a lot of experience with this city.'

The first time Stanton ventured out in Sarasota as Susan, she went to dinner at the Quay.

'It was terrifying,' she said. 'You're kind of leaving the protective shell. So when you take the shell off, it's intimidating.'

'When I used to come here by myself, I was under the radar, trying not to be noticed, learning to be comfortable with who I am.'

She stayed many nights at the Howard Johnson Inn on U.S. 41 across from the Taco Bell. It was not classy, but it was reasonable.

There are mementos of Susan's early years, such as that long, blond wig phase. Stanton looks at the photographs in her wallet now and laughs, like a grown-up reflecting on her 'big hair and concert T-shirts' teenage years.

Susan had needed identification for picking up tickets at the will-call windows of the Sarasota Opera, Van Wezel and the Florida West Coast Symphony Center.

Visible To All

Where Stanton was once 'under the radar,' strangers now recognize her on the street or in cafes.

'I'm assuming you're Susan Stanton,' said Betsy Nelson, the chief executive and general manager of Metro Coffee & Wine.

'Yes,' Stanton said with a smile, as she nibbled on the market salad.

'Welcome,' Nelson said. 'Good luck.'

Nelson was the fourth person that morning to approach Stanton.

Not everyone says what they notice. Some do double takes and walk on. Those who feel negatively about her - and Stanton knows they are out there - typically do not approach.

But they have been calling and writing Sarasota's city hall.

Letters to commissioners about Stanton's candidacy for the city manager job have trickled in since she applied more than a month ago. In the past week, the number has steadily increased.

Residents' comments range from supportive:

'Stanton has a very good track record of service in Largo.'

To condemning:

'I wouldn't for a minute think that someone who is not at peace with who he is would make a good candidate for making decisive choices for the betterment of our city.'

Many voice concern about the attention that comes with Stanton's candidacy.

Stanton compares the media throng that promises to converge on city hall next week to that Verizon commercial where a crowd of people representing 'the network' tails a cell-phone customer.

'There's some legitimate concerns that people have,' said Stanton, who was Largo's city manager for 14 years.

'Can this person go through this transition and focus on the job? Can this person really develop a passion to be a city manager when she has all these distractions?'

'Everything Is Broken In Two'

The morning of the day Stanton was fired, she drove from The Church of the Redeemer to St. Armands Circle.

St. Armands was the place she visited in Sarasota when she first came here with Leadership Tampa Bay 10 years ago.

She got a table at the Columbia Restaurant and ate lunch.

Then she crossed back over the Sunshine Skyway bridge.

'Don't know what I'm gonna do,' the Celtic lyrics of Heidi Talbot rang from her car stereo.

'Everything is broken in two.'

It was about 1:30 p.m when Stanton arrived in Largo. The public hearing was hours away, but a snow fence had already gone up for crowd control. The building was being secured.

'The whole place was buzzing,' Stanton said.

It was preparation for a crowd of 480 people that promised to publicly condemn Stanton's life as a man in the process of becoming a woman.

To stay 'reconnected' through the tumult that night, Stanton said her thoughts often turned to Sarasota and those two hours at its Episcopal church.

'It would be interesting that my destiny has come full circle,' she said of possibly being offered the Sarasota job.

'And maybe it already has.'