By choice or by chance: not everyone on the Chicago City Council has a patronage operation.

Not every alderman leans on city workers or a political patronage system to circulate petitions. Whether it's because of their independent ideals or the watchful eye of federal investigators, a few aldermen have found ways to work outside the system.

In Little Village and North Lawndale, 22nd Ward Alderman Ricardo Munoz inherited a ward organization distant from both Mayor Richard M. Daley and the Hispanic Democratic Organization, a Latino political organization formed by allies of the Daley administration in the early '90s. "I was appointed in 1993 to replace Jesus Garcia. By 1995, they supported my opponent," Munoz said. "Patronage has never been an option for [22nd Ward organization]. Politics is in our blood. We like doing this. Precinct captains actually like working the neighborhood. They're not out for a job."

For his 2003 re-election campaign, Munoz turned in only 157 pages, among the lowest of any alderman. City workers comprised only 22.2 percent of his petition circulators--a contrast to Daley's 35 percent. Of the five city workers who collected for Munoz, all but one was on his staff or a ward superintendent, one of the few positions that aldermen are allowed to appoint. "Eighty percent of my precinct captains are volunteers--[such as] people who want to fight for new libraries," Munoz said. "We recruit captains from block club structures as opposed to [the HDO], which basically has an army of workers"

While other political organizations may promise jobs, Munoz's ward organization promotes a different type of egostroking by having volunteers serve year-round as neighborhood go-betweens. "When one of my neighbors goes out and gets petitions, then he's identified with me. So, when there's a pothole, lights that are out, abandoned cars that are out there, [the neighbors] say, 'Hey, Alex, can you call the alderman's office and tell him about abandoned cars?'" Munoz said. "So the circulators become like our representatives in the precincts. To the political junkie, they like that. They like to say, 'Hey, I'm the go-to guy in the neighborhood.'"

Meanwhile, a few other aldermen stand out for going door-to-door and collecting signatures on their own.

4th Ward Alderman Toni Preckwinkle, who collected 42 pages of petitions for her own re-election bid, gathered more signatures than any volunteer who circulated petitions for Daley. "I do a lot of work myself out with my volunteers," she says. "It's a way of contacting as many of our constituents as possible"

On a"clout list," a directory of 5,743 people referred for city jobs by political or union sponsors released by federal prosecutors in June, the names of Preckwinkle and Munoz were at the bottom of the list. Munoz was cited as having requested no city jobs for applicants nor received any. Yet, in Chicago politics, Munoz and Preckwinkle's lack of politically rigged hiring remains as much a millstone as a badge of ethical independence.

To many observers, the existence of a clout list showed the way city supervisors and Chicago politicians routinely skirted a 1991 ban on politically motivated hiring. Known as the Shakman decree, the law was supposed to bring an end to the days of political machines fueled by ward bosses who could reward political workers with city jobs.

Other aldermen say Shakman has merely hobbled them from creating the ward organization like those built by their older colleagues who were elected in the 1970s and 1980s.

"Because I came in after Shakman, I haven't been able to build up a ward organization," 6th Ward Alderman Freddrenna Lyle said. "None of us younger aldermen who came in after have been able to"

Howard Brookins, a first-term alderman in the 21st Ward, concurs. "I've never been able to build up a ward organization" said Brookins, who expects to see some aldermen begin to hire paid petition circulators. "The only way you can get them to work is by paying them. Look at the Salvation Army--the only way they can get people to ring the bell is to pay them"

But Munoz disagrees that Shakman may have drawn a line between aldermen who already had a patronage organization and the newer ones who did not. "An elected official's ability to assemble an army of patronage workers totally depended on that elected official's relationships with the mayor," Munoz says.

Brookins says he doesn't expect patronage to die out completely but rather move over into the private sector as retailers and businesses court aldermen for zoning clearance. 37th Ward Alderman Emma Mitts "was able to get Wal-Mart to do hiring in her community," he said. "You see people in mayor's administration who've left office and then over to the private sector"

And the block club presidents, "political junkies" and Local School Council members that make up Munoz's ward organization still have families that need jobs, whether in the public or private sector. "We do help our volunteers sometimes with letters of recommendation, with referrals to private sector employment, just because everybody has needs," Munoz said. "Don't get me wrong--a job would be nice."