April 2002

We pray that April will bring some of those showers ‘that bring May flowers’. We continue to need the rain. We need it not only for the grass and plants around us but we have a dirt road running in front and along the side of the house. The rain would subdue some of the dust which wind, cars, and huge earth moving vehicles send flying into our home. The project on the sewers seems endless and more and more we live with big Cats, earthmovers, huge dirt trucks, enormous backhoes, excavators and pickup trucks continually using Connecticut Avenue and Helena Street. We had Bill and his children here for the week and most of the time we had to park in someone else’s driveway on Helena Street. Fortunately all our neighbors being subject to the same invasion have no problem letting others use them. We at least ask which is more than the contractor does who just drops huge cement boxes and pipes and other things on their lawns. The explanation is always, ‘Oh but we’ll give you sod for it when we finish’. I’ve seen the sod and it is probably the cheapest you can buy and will need lots of care to make grow. We are without half of our sprinkler system since this project began and it appears we will lose more as it progresses down and under Connecticut Avenue. Ah! Such is the price of progress!

Back in 1965 I had an experience which in a very small way is being repeated today. In those days as a young lawyer who now had seven children with the youngest a mere 2 years of age, and the oldest near 11, I was busy making a living. Part of that living was being active in the politics of the city. I was an elected committeeman in my precinct but it was more like being a volunteer. I was accepted by the party and then placed on a ballot with no opposition. People were as averse to being active in politics then as they are now. I had gotten the bug from my father who had always been active. I came out of the Marine Corp about the same time the Prince of Camelot was emerging. I even did some street corner soliciting on his behalf in 1960. My participation continued into 1963/64 by helping the former President of City Council James H.J.Tate’s run for the post he had inherited from Richardson Dilworth. Dilworth had left it to run for governor in 1962. So in 1965 you could have described me as a ‘politician’. In fact in the campaign for Mayor in 1964 I was even temporarily a candidate on the Mr.Tate’s ticket. It was not a real ticket but one, which he proposed in case the party thought, as it started to do so, that Alex Hemphill, the former Controller, was a better candidate. They didn’t and my candidacy ended but not before a humorous incident occurred. I was listed on this ticket as a candidate for ‘Register of Wills’.

How that came about is, I know now a typical political story, but at the time I thought it a bit unusual. I was a classmate in college and law school with Michael Stack. Mike’s dad had been a congressman until he opposed FDR. He lost the nomination the next time around. Mike was James H.J.Tate’s campaign manager. I was on business in Miami and received a phone call from Mike. He told me about the possible endorsement by the City Democratic Party of Alex and the thoughts that Jim Tate had about forming a ticket. He then asked me which office would I like to run for: Councilman at large, 10th District Councilman, or Register of Wills! I thought it all a bit unusual but said “Oh well, why not the Register of Will, since I knew the law of wills and estates”. So I was put on the proposed ticket at candidate for Register.

The then Register of Wills, John E. Walsh was not happy with the idea of any opposition in a primary. He was the attorney I had served under in the In Oh Ho murder trial. He was a good friend of my father. As the date neared when candidates could withdraw, he came to our office. My father called me in to discuss with him my withdrawal. I advised that my candidacy was strictly a front and when Jim Tate said it was safe to withdraw, I would. John Walsh was a bit upset, but my father cheered him by saying, “Don’t worry John, even if Paul is still on the ticket, you’ll get my vote!” Both John and Mr. Tate were elected. So in 1965 having seven mouths to feed and looking for an opportunity to expand, I requested Mayor Tate to submit my name to a panel that was creating for him a Board of Education. Prior to this time, a Superintendent who was appointed by the Mayor ran the schools. The chairman of this Board was to be the ex-Mayor, Richardson Dilworth. I had great admiration for Mr.Dilworth since he came into the limelight as a reformer just as I came out of high school. He went from District Attorney to Mayor with his running mate Joseph Clark, changing the political makeup of the city, which had existed for some 60 years prior. So I looked forward to serving with him.

On the panel of eight members two knew me from my past. One was Brother Daniel Bernian, FSC He was then President of LaSalle College (now University). He had been my homeroom brother and track moderator in high school. The other was Ted Husted who was the assistant dean of the University of Pennsylvania Law School while I was there. So the odds looked better than average. However the interviews were conducted by a Rev.Henry Nicholas, a union president, minister, and what is today referred to as an “African American”. He asked the questions. I answered. One question was: “How did I feel about “integrated” education?(Or words to that effect). Integration of the races was a major political issue in those days. I answered by offering the opinion that I believed in it. I should have left it at that but I added that my belief was based on the Jesuitical principles I had encountered in college, that education should be ‘integrated’, namely, that the spiritual side and material side should be give equal weight in the curriculum. It was not the answer he sought. I was not named to the board though I got encouraging plugs from Brother Daniel and Ted. So ended my campaign to be named to a Board of Education. That remained true until this past month when I succeeded in becoming a school board member. This time on a much smaller scale as a member of the School Board of the Lutheran Church of the Cross Day School. This time there was no campaign, no interview I merely responded to a request made to me often and over time to volunteer my services. The school covers pre-kindergarten through 6th grade. It is an integrated education as I referred to it back there in ’65. I look forward to trying to be of some help.

 

It appears, despite my best intentions, that all that I have written so far in these Jottings could be called ‘memoir’. Yet, I suppose any of these monthlies could be so called. I like to recall Frank McCourt’s comment in an interview about his best selling memoir, “Angela’s Ashes”. He was asked about an apparent challenge to the facts as he set them forth. His response was, that it was his memoir, so it was his recollections that controlled. So too are these recollections of mine. Politics for me was always fun and important. My participation is and was beyond what duty required but I also had hopes of serving. It is true too those hope were tainted a bit with pride but the motives were basically sound. I have even continued my interest here in Florida by becoming a participant in the voting process. It irks me to hear people complain about it being dirty and beyond there concern when we have the privilege of participating via politics the way we are governed. It is something not found around the world. It is a gift as precious as life itself yet we demean it, castigate it, and then waste our chance to participate by not doing the minimal, i.e., voting. One particular incident occurred here, which is typical. I went to a polling place to take my job as one who welcomes and as a ballot assistant. We opened a half-hour before the voting time. It was located in the community hall of a mobile home development. As we did so a number of men came up on the porch and took seats around a table. They had coffee with them. I thought they were waiting to vote. But when the polls opened and they did not come in. I asked one of the workers who lived there who they were and what they were doing together on the porch. It was a daily coffee klatch of guys living in the development. So I went out to them and asked if they were coming into vote. It was a general election including state offices and congressional representative. They said no. One them espoused that he hadn’t voted since Wallace lost the election! I left them but with the pain of thinking what a waste democracy seem to be on such citizens. But then I am an optimist and keep hoping that maybe the next time more people will exercise this precious gift by taking part in their government.

I had another successful book bargain purchase. This time it was with an author I have not read before but knew of from a TV series. It is Larry McMurtry. His series on TV was ‘Lonesome Dove’ which I remember June and I watching while snow fell outside. It won some awards. I had a chance to get the sequence to it, “Dead Man’s Walk”, his essays on the West, entitled “Sacagawea’s Nick Name”, and “Duane Depressed” all for under 20 bucks. The essays are interesting in that they show how the good salesman ship of Buffalo Bill, Kit Carson, other travelling shows and Hollywood created the so-called ‘Wild West’. They also show as the title indicates how at one time Sacagawea got the nickname Janey. I found “Dead Man’s Walk” tough to stay with but “Duane Depressed” has made happy with the purchase. It is Walden Pond in a Texan setting. He has his character acting like Henry David Thoreau and in fact about half way through it one other minor characters observes that Duane is acting like David. The craziest thing he does in this oil town, called Thalia, is walk. He locks up his pick-up truck and hides the keys and decides to walk away from business, family, friends, and the noise of town to the solitude of his cabin in the woods six miles away. Walking in Texas is apparently unheard of so the townsfolk who once thought the world of Duane now think he’s left it. It is his coming of age with the reality that life is not all money and things. He is 62 years of age and he feels like he’s let a lot of things slip by and now with time running out he better see if he can find them. The saga is not over as I write this but McMurtry really has me wondering how he is going to end it.

As I close let me add that we have gotten some of those April Showers, now if we can just get our street back…The visitor list is now down to Mary Lou who will be gone before the day of reckoning, April 15, arrives. Pax vobiscum! Peace be with you!