In moments of high dudgeon when a political party is “outraged” at the position of the other, my view is that one party consents to assist its nemesis in the art of staying visible. If your lifeblood and livelihood is politics, avoiding the dreaded state of invisibility is essential.
Was Gen. Douglas MacArthur actually expressing fear when he said, “Old soldiers never die ? they just fade away”?
I?m relieved to perceive this secret fear of fading away in our leaders because we regular folks also may be afraid of disappearing slowly over time.
I?ve reached the point where I can?t get pulled over and be given a speeding ticket by State Police at that little Ruxton area cut ? out on the Jones Falls Expressway. Many times I?ve hurtled down the highway, leading the pack in my stick-shift station wagon. The officerstepping out on I-83 seemed not to see me, but would point to the next guy in a BMW or Porsche. Maybe he didn?t believe the “mommy car” was capable of speed.
Every time my car arches up on the Kent Narrows Bridge with no need to apply brakes, I silently thank former Gov. William Donald Schaefer for these smooth elevated shortcuts that have eliminated 30 minutes from my trip to Ocean City. Do others still remember who enabled a faster start to their vacations?
Some appointees in political middle management imagine themselves to be indispensably visible. Schaefer as mayor, rid the city of one inept, bloviating department head. It was done delicately.
While underlings managed his department, he was summoned to work from City Hall, which he viewed as a reward. The dense fellow needed two months with his desk positioned in the third-floor hallway. Embarrassed women would ask him to pull his chair in a bit to allow them access to the ladies room entrance. Finally, he was told that his visibility had ended.
Rarely, some accept anonymity. Former Vice President Spiro Agnew would pick a spot on the beach in Ocean City, far from the main group of bathers. There was a line in the sand no one crossed. He sat under his umbrella, read a book and never looked around. Other English Towers? sun-worshippers averted their eyes.
Sen. Ted Kennedy is in no immediate danger of invisibility but probably wished for it recently. Fox News Channel filmed him leisurely walking his two Portuguese water dogs on a strip of green just outside the White House fence. He stared down patiently as one sniffed for a spot. The need to fill time had opposing pundits instantly opining as to whether Ted had a scoop and bag, and if not, was this irresponsible pet ownership?
There is one former politician who didn?t experience the dread of return to private life, Thomas J. D?Alesandro III, attorney, son of a great former mayor and congressman, Thomas D?Alesandro Jr. and brother of House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi. Tommy is blessed with level-headed good sense and uncommon wit. After one term as mayor of Baltimore City, 1967-71, he chose not to run again. With his unique humor and power of metaphor, 35 years ago he described for me what it was like to be a big-city mayor: You start the morning raring to go, fresh and eager at your desk. Your secretary arrives carrying a huge, heavy, silver serving platter of fabulous fare mixed with excrement. You dive in and slog through the pile. By lunchtime, your brow is furrowed and beaded with sweat, but the platter is empty ? whew! One o?clock, here comes your secretary again, weighed down and struggling to walk, balancing a bigger platter of fabulous fare mixed with excrement.
Years later, looking from my window in City Hall, I saw him, briefcase in hand, walking briskly up Guilford Avenue from his Lexington Street Law Office. I imagined him heading to court to meet a client with only one problem. No one noticed or tried to stop him with demands and supplications. His face reflected peace. It didn?t appear that he missed the constant state of having to be “outraged” at the opposition?s antics and accusations.
He was visible to family, friends, clients. This was enough.
Stephanie Esworthy was director of media and public relations and the Baltimore City Film Commission for former Mayors William Donald Schaefer and the late Clarence “Du” Burns and served as head of Baltimore City?s Bureau of Music in every city administration since Mayor Theodore R. McKeldin. Her personal experiences in local politics started in the early 1950s as the daughter of state?s attorney and chief judge of the Circuit Court for Baltimore City, Anselm Sodaro, now deceased. She may be reached at [email protected].
