September 1998

Politics played a large part in my life. I was, as Arlen Specter sarcastically noted, “always waiting in the wings”. It is probably the only time I could say I agree with him. Politics came to mind since its September and its primary time here in Florida. It was also a subject at our men’s breakfast this morning where the musing concerned “coming in second” or losing, and living with it. It is a view that sometimes our culture belittles with slogans like “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing” as per Lombardi, being the byword.

I remember my father’s advice when, as a young lawyer, I talked to him about running for office. He thought it was a good idea. He advised “Run and lose”, or maybe he said, “Run and hope you don’t win”. I know that at the time it seemed inane. Later, I would see the wisdom of it and agree. Somewhat like the son who thinks his father is not with it, when he is 16 and is amazed how much he knew, when he, the son, turns 30 or 40. So I ran, and I lost. Then I ran again and did likewise. As some wise guy said, I was best at losing. But Dad was right. I learned a lot about people, and the activity in politics gave me the job that was a subsidy while I practiced. The subsidy made sure the mortgage was paid, and food stayed on the table while the practice grew. In addition, I saw classmate lawyers elected and life go down hill, even as maybe the practice went up. A good example of the advice’s sense came when I had the chance to be named to the Bench. Some 30 were to be appointed. I was serving as Commissioner to an outgoing Mayor. The party submitted my name, the Bar Association approved my qualifications, but the Governor picked others. Among the others were several classmates from Penn Law of ’54. I was disappointed and I finished second once again. However, a few years later a number of them were dismissed from the bench for accepting cash donations to their campaigns. The sums were paltry $300 and there was enough confusion in the rules that I probably would have been among those who thought it was not improper. In other words, I too would have been dismissed and crucified by the Media. So when it all happened, I could easily pray, “There but for the grace of God (and Dad) go I”.

September brings Labor Day and the beginning of serious campaigning. On occasions some, like the Federal campaigns might have bothered us some part of the summer, but local ones never got going until school started, i.e., Labor Day. I like Florida’s idea of the primary in September; it reduces the political activity during the summer months. It also saves the candidate’s money since it is a shorter time period for the campaigning. Florida has another primary in October to have a run-off where no candidate receives a majority. It won’t happen this year in this precinct (in Philadelphia they were called “wards”) since there are only two nominees for each office. I complained to some comrades that it didn’t seem kosher to speak of “Precincts”. They remind me of police stations, not political entities. How can you have a “Ward-Heeler” in a Precinct? I suppose, as one of them suggested, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

I confirmed today that Mayor Dilworth did attend the viewing of ln-Oh Ho. I found the Time Magazine for May 5,1958 in the Main Library. I made a copy of the story and the picture. It confirmed that the Mayor was at the funeral home. The picture shows him standing outside the small West Philadelphia Funeral Parlor. It is just a twin-row home with three steps up to the door. No signs appeared in the picture to show it was a Funeral Home. He is standing in a line of mourners, all of whom appear oriental. He is alone. He is holding his hat in his hand and is waiting to proceed behind others to enter the building. I report all this since it is so unlike the Mayors I’ve known who attended anything. They didn’t wait in line and they were not alone. It even appears from the picture that the others, milling about the steps and entrance, either don’t know who he is, or knowing, don’t care.

What is a mystery, is how I remembered that the mayor’s picture was in time. It was not, by the way, a picture of him “crying at the funeral” as I wrote.

Since I have no notes that reported the picture being in Time, it was good to have it confirmed. I am still looking to obtain the newspapers of Aprill958. The murder occurred on April 25, 1958. The embodiment of a lawyer, for most, is as a defense counsel in a murder trial. I had that experience on several occasions but the most publicized matter and first, was the In-Oh Ho matter. I will some day put on paper my thoughts of that experience.

August ends always with thoughts of john and Frank. They had the same birth dates, August 25th ten years a part, john in 1923 and Frank 1913. I was thinking of both of them and how they caught up with one another in the Philippines. John, there as a Marine and shot down over Cotabato, is transferred to Manila, and there is his brother recently released from Santo Tomas Prison Camp. John was about to have his leg amputated. His brother Frank advises him to do otherwise. It proved to be the better decision. John had problems all his life with his legs, but he had two legs. He often expressed the thanks, as we all would, for such g0od brotherly advice.

The month of September is the beginning of new things for a number of grandchildren. The Twins, Sean and Dave start at Germantown Academy, (though reports are already in of their working out with the football team and how they can’t believe how big those upperclassmen are); and, Tommy begins his high school career at Holy Ghost Prep. They mark the grandchildren’s entrance to the high school years, though, Sean and David did have 9th Grade at Abington but on receiving a scholarship to Germantown decided to switch. They have to repeat parts of the 9th grade. We wish them well and hope all their marks are above Sea Level (“C’s”). I am sure of the remaining 16 grandchildren there are any number of them “starting” new levels, and to them too we wish the best.

Today I received word Myrtle Dean died. She was 101 years of age on August 11, 1998. She came into my life through John in 1980’s. He was an assistant manager at the Germantown House where Myrtle and her sister, Salome, lived. They needed a lawyer for something so naturally John brought them to me. Well, actually I went to them and since then have taken care of number of things for them. I even got Paul and Tom involved in bringing them Air Conditioning and a TV.

Myrtle and her sister were born and raised in Key West, Florida in a family of 12.Her father was an American Indian and her mother a Bahamian She epitomized the term “Lady”. She was soft-spoken and yet firm in her wishes. She seemed, at times, to have bit of an accent in her speech. She always dressed like a Lady, gloves and hat when appropriate. She entered St. Ignatius Nursing Home in the fall of 1996 through the help of her long time friend Grace Heising. There is where she went to sleep today to begin her eternal rest. Grace has prepared a short and interesting biography of her life.

September 18,1998

Dear Ron and Mary:

Every time I open the Refrigerator door, I look down at Alex (or Aidan) and see him looking up at me. It is a happy reminder of you and those guys. I understand you have solved the nanny problem and life is rolling along. I just hope not too many bumps in the road. We were to go over to West Palm Beach for the weekend to visit with Frank & Carolann Allen, but Frank had to cancel. Last weekend on Sunday we drove up to Silver Springs and watched a concert by “Alabama”. The weather looks like rain for the weekend on both coasts so maybe it was just as well.

Let us know when you can what’s happening in the life of Yake’s of Yardley and their Great Guys!

Love, Dad