6/6/92
My father was a lawyer. People in the service would surmise that since I was a lawyer, I had it made. All I had to do was leave the service and return to a thriving practice. How little did they know my father. I don’t believe he ever had, in fifty years of practice, a thing like an annual retainer. He never received a regular paycheck – except in his early years when he was an Assistant City Solicitor. He lived from case to case, estate to estate, occasional political appointment and friends. He enjoyed immensely the idea of Social Security – a regular paycheck! How he managed to feed and clothe 15 to 18 people most of the time is a real tribute to his “practice.”
6/92
I remember fondly the walk with my father from his office on Sansom Street to City Hall. As we walked along Dad would greet others as they passed – seemingly sometimes every few paces. He would say “Hello! Judge,” “Good morning Mac,” “Hello Commissioner!” Each got a short hand gesture, not quite a salute, but almost. Occasionally, we would stop and chat. I would be introduced. They would discuss politics or politicians or some recent social event. I never remember any talk about baseball or weather. Sometimes, Dad would report on the latest exploit of his famous son, Bishop Frank, or his grandchild, Jim’s latest stunt. By the time we reached City Hall we usually received a short report as to who some of the “movers and shakers” in the City government were. Dad would often add a footnote after we had passed so and so with just a “Hello!.” That was John Patrick Walsh – good defense lawyer; or that was Bill so and so a fine lawyer and councilman. He might even add how or where they had met – across the court room or across the ward room, or across the church pew.
These reveries of Dad’s walk to City Hall came back to me recently when I found myself (sans son) doing something similar. As I walked through the “wedding cake/French Architectural Masterpiece.” A I had handed out a few hellos – “Hello Jim, and where’s your 10 gallon hat?”; “Hi! Emmett- putting on a few pounds? No?.” Jim was Justice James McDermott of the Pa. Supreme Court and Emmett was Emmett Fitzpatrick, former District Attorney and now excellent defense attorney. I even gave “Ed,” I mean “Mr. Mayor,” a greeting and handshake. So, the circle has come around and I am now more than ever my father’s son.
It is also a sign of my age or survival or both. I also see signs which carry names of people I knew like “John F. Byrne Golf Course” or “Cecil Moore Avenue.” John was-my Ward Leader in the sixties and helped me get a job with the State’s -3- Attorney General. Cecil Moore was a black defense lawyer whose path cossed mine in my first murder trial in 1958.
There were 8 defendants charged with the beating death of a Korean student, In Oh Ho. It was a cause celebre. The Mayor, then Dilworth, cried at the funeral and Time Magazine carried several stories. I was the junior member of the defense team. We lost, but I persevered alone and appealed it to the Pa. Supreme Court. I hit a home run! The Court gave our defendant a new trial. As a result, Cecil Moore’s defendant, whose motion for a new trial had not yet been heard, gained a new trial. It caused Cecil to recognize the young ex-Marine. He even accidentally picked me up in his auto while driving down Broad Street one day – so we got to pat each other on the back all the way from Olney Avenue to City Hall.
Maybe knowing some of the people whose names adorn the streets or parks or the like is just a matter of survival, but to me it is a bit eerie. It is like being a part of history when you feel that you are too young to be so. It’s like going to one of the Family parties and wondering, “Where did all these old people come from?” Age is like beauty, it is in the eyes of the beholder.
The Dilworth Plaza is the area west of City Hall. It is named for former Mayor Dilworth. It was finished in the early 1970s, and remained undedicated for most of the Rizzo Administration. Rizzo had no love for Mayor Dilworth and refused to proceed with any formal dedication. It, nevertheless, was and still is, Dilworth Plaza.
I made an attempt to serve under the ex-mayor when the first School Board was created. Mayor Tate had appointed ex-Mayor Dilworth as Chairman of the Board. There was a committee of 10 to 15 citizens of various professions chaired by Dr. Nichols, a black Minister, and head of a Ministerial Group. They held interviews with prospective Board Members. On the committee was Brother Daniel Bernian, F.C.S., my former homeroom teacher at West Catholic and track moderator in my years on the track team at West. He was then the President of LaSalle College. Another member known to me was Ted Husted, who held a position in the administration of the Penn Law School when I attended.
The Committee’s task was to select some citizen members to balance with the professional school personnel. I had admired the former mayor, who came bursting in the political scene as I graduated from high school in 1947. He was to become Mayor after a stint as D.A. He led the reform of the Philadelphia government in the form of the Charter of 1951. When I returned to the area in 1958 to begin practice and took up politics he was our Mayor. He resigned in his second term in 1963 to run for Governor. He lost, but it enabled James H. J. Tate to step up from President of City Council to the Mayor’s office. Mayor Tate, in return, named him to organize and run the first Board of Education.
The interviews were held at the Bellevue, the “Grand Old Lady of Broad Street,” later remembered as the home of the Legionnaire’s Disease. The waiting was long on the day of the interview, well into the night. Finally, I was called in to a room to face some 8 to 10 people at a circular table. Dr. Nichols did most of the questioning. It had to do with my background, my education and my personal interests in the education and the educational system. I remember being asked by Dr. Nichols if I favored “integrated” education. Having had a minor in Education at St. Joseph’s and its Jesuitical integrated education of morals combined with empiricism and information, I spoke warmly about my belief in the whole man being educated – as I understood the term an “integrated” education. It was not what Dr. Nichols had in mind. He interrupted me to advise that he was referring to “Integrated” with a capital “I,” meaning race integration. I apologized and, of course, responded that I had no problem with that manner of integration either.
I received a few favorable comments from my former teacher-moderator, Brother Daniel. He advised the committee that he could vouch for my persistence in whatever I pursued – good old perservance. The Law School Assistant Dean, Ted Husted, remarked regarding the same, referring to my overcoming a first year lapse in law school to climb to the “most improved” ballplayer award in my third year. Primarily due to perservance and the old “nose to the wheel” philosphy. They – the committee – were apparently not impressed or my slip on integration let me down. Dr. Nichols became the first member after Mayor Dilworth and I think Ted served on the Board for a while.
Later, I could recall the good fortune I had in not being selected – the turmoil in education which began with integration and the population explosion did not have make the job an easy one. So I never got to serve with one of my heroes, Dilworth, whom Mayor James H. J. Tate later became unhappy with, probably because he was his own man, even as he was his own Mayor.
6/27/92
Just a few short weeks ago, around June 7th I wrote of meeting with Jim McDermott in the City Hall Court Yard. On Sunday, June 21st, Father’s Day, Jim was found dead. He was to meet with his family for Father’s Day dinner and did not answer his phone. A son went to the house and found him. There was an obituary in The Inquirer and it mentioned his penchant for Cowboy hats. The very thing I chided him about when we last met. It was another contemporary who said goodbye to this life. Another reminder of the fraility of glory and wealth – makes us want to “find tongues in trees, books in running brooks, sermons in stone and good in everything.” Another jolt to make you bend down to kiss that child and surround yourself with the aura of life.
* * *
We had a children’s week (6/20-6/27). Sean and David were houseguests along with their brother, Paul until Tuesday, Suzanne and Tom were also present with Kate and Meg. We even babysat. The highlight of the event was Pop-Pop being caught red handed eating the chocolate ice cream that Sue had returned to take for their dessert.