Have you ever been in such a hurry that you drove over the tip of your son?s foot after you dropped him off at school? I blamed Matt, of course, for standing there bleary-eyed in the dawn light and not leaping away from the car immediately as I blasted off to catch that short green light at Roland Avenue and Northern Parkway.
Lucky for us, his shoes were Timberlands and he caught the empty back end of a station wagon. Being engrossed in politics and campaigns will make you hurried. Trying to stay on top of the opponent?s accusation of the day is akin to Chief Brody trying to hang onto that cable and fend off Jaws with an oxygen tank.
Maryland is chock-full of Democrats praising or denouncing each other. Maryland Dems are as numerous as the pranking college kids sardined in that now-extinct phone booth of the 1960s. They?re as endless as the parade of characters exiting the Volkswagen Beetle at the circus. To be a Republican in Maryland is likebeing that lone Orioles fan in the bleachers at Yankee Stadium during an Orioles vs. Yankees game. It could prove harmful to your well being.
I was politically smitten at 9 when I licked my first envelope at my Dad?s Democratic campaign headquarters. Working hard meant you really licked those gooey envelope flaps and didn?t use those sissy marble rollers in a well of water or complain when your tongue was paper cut. You worried that if you didn?t suffer, there?d be no glory on Election Night.
The big deal was the candidate?s testimonial dinner at the Belvedere or Lord Baltimore Hotel. I wore the same little banquet dress in a muted silver material with appliquéd flowers and actually enjoyed the usual fare of ham with raisin sauce. The real magic was that square of vanilla ice cream with the candidate?s profile in the center in a contrasting flavor. I still wonder how they did that. The profile always resembled George Washington, and this subliminal message was no accident.
Still, a kid needed something to focus on while the honoree was speaking, so I developed a kid crush on the sharply dressed guy with steel blue eyes. He was seated always at the head table but assigned so far over to the right, it would seem if he squirmed at all in that precarious last chair, the legs would fall off the raised dais. I shyly asked who he was and they said in a hissed whisper, “That?s Samuel Culotta, THE Republican, but don?t be scared, he?s a very nice man.” THE Republican implied he was the only one, as rare as the Tasmanian Tiger.
Sure Eisenhower was president and moderate Republican Theodore R. McKeldin was governor in Annapolis, but I had never seen one in person before. He had a fabulous smile, but I still imagined him as that brave, lonely, brooding hero, Heathcliff of “Wuthering Heights,” Mr. Rochester of “Jane Eyre.”
Sam Culotta was the governor?s secretary and was elected to the House of Delegates and ran for mayor many times, getting thousands of votes, so I knew there were others out there. Today, Sam remembers that period in a more kindly light. He explained that as the youngest member in those sponsoring civic clubs, naturally he was given the seat at the edge of the platform. He pointed out that the two parties then were closer in ideology. I?ll stick to my conspiracy theory.
Before GOP leader Sam Culotta, there was Samuel Hopkins, whose inspired lifetime of achievement is legend and who was the Republican standard bearer in the 1955 election for mayor against solid incumbent Thomas D?Alesandro Jr. Sam said that he met my Democrat father for the first time, when they both happened to walk into the wash room at the Park Plaza Hotel. Dad gave him some good political advice and election strategy as they washed their hands. Where else could a loyal Democrat exchange ideas cordially and freely with a loyal Republican, except in the wash room.
Our leaders today should try it.
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].
