Book Review
A CAPITOL JOURNEY: REFLECTIONS ON THE PRESS, POLITICS,
AND THE MAKING OF PUBLIC POLICY IN PENNSYLVANIA
By Vincent P. Carocci
(University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2005)
Reviewed by Michael J. O’Malley III
Individuals with an appetite for a “behind-the-scenes” peek at Pennsylvania politics—at their best and at their worst—will devour Vincent P. Carocci’s A Capitol Journey: Reflections on the Press Politics, and the Making of Public Policy in Pennsylvania. In his whirlwind tour, Carocci takes readers on a titillating journey from the newsroom of the State Capitol to the press office of Governor Robert P. Casey’s administration, trading along the way his role as newsman to one of newsmaker during his career of nearly four decades
In 1961, at the age of twenty-four, Vince Carocci launched his career in Harrisburg as a member of the Pennsylvania Legislative Correspondents Association, the nation’s oldest organization of state house reporters, founded in 1895. His first job on “the Hill” was with the Harrisburg bureau of the United Press International (UPI), where he worked alongside some of the most competitive—some might say ruthless—reporters, each a character (and at least one a caricature). He describes fellow reporters as “crusty,” “suave,” “curmudgeonly,” “inscrutable,” and “cranky,” as if the proverbial cast of characters were the creations of newsman-turned-playwright Damon Runyon.
Carocci puts news reporting at the time in perspective: in the early sixties, newspapers dominated the media, radio enjoyed a relatively minor role, and television was in its infancy. It was a heady time for print reporters. Six major newspapers had permanent bureaus installed in the Capitol newsroom—the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Philadelphia Bulletin, the Pittsburgh Press, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Harrisburg Patriot, and the Harrisburg Evening News. UPI and the Associated Press (AP) each employed a staff of six. Several large newspapers, notably the Allentown Morning Call, the Reading Eagle, and the Easton Express, dispatched reporters to capital on days when the state legislature was in session. He recalls with clarity his stint with UPI, after which he worked briefly for AP, his alma mater, The Pennsylvania State University, and the Harrisburg bureau of the Philadelphia Inquirer. In 1971, he became press secretary for the Senate Democratic majority caucus.
“If you happened to be a Democrat with an interest in public service, public policymaking, and politics,” writes Carocci, “Pennsylvania was a good place for you to be in 1971.” The previous year’s general elections had been more than kind to the Democratic Party. Governor Milton J. Shapp was a Democrat, the State House of Representatives remained in Democratic control and, for the first time in nearly a half-century, Democrats won majority control of the Pennsylvania Senate. Carocci carefully watched two leaders, Senators Martin L. Murray of Luzerne County and Thomas F. Lamb of Pittsburgh, both seasoned lawmakers and influential voices, become mentors to freshman senators, a role they had never before played. But play it well they did.
The author also describes several senators each of whom “stood out in his own way,” including Franklin L. Kury, H. Craig Lewis, Henry C. Messinger, Eugene F. Scanlon, Joseph S. Ammerman, Edward Zemprelli, and Henry “Buddy” Cianfrani. Ammerman, writes Carocci, “was a rugged, outspoken, often stubborn individualist befitting his Curwensville roots in Clearfield County. He spoke his piece of mind whenever he was of the mind to say something; and that was just about any time.” He remembers Cianfrani as a lovable rogue, an individual in politics known as a “player,” and one who “never pretended to be anything other than who and what he was.” To Carocci (and most Pennsylvanians, even the politically savvy), Messinger was the “Quiet Man,” an unknown Allentown schoolteacher who shocked the political establishment with his election.
Carocci’s characterizations of the six men who held the governor’s office during his career are just as candid. David Leo Lawrence, one of “the last old-time pols to reach the governor’s mansion,” possessed “a Harry Truman sense of public policy priorities.” William W. Scranton was one of the two best governors he observed. “What distinguished him most,” Carocci asserts, “was the class he brought to public service. He was a class act from start to finish. He was a class act when he entered public life. He was a class act during his tenure in public office. And he was a class act when he returned to the private sector.” Raymond P. Shafer “was a good man with a solid political reputation and an even stronger personal resume,” but “regrettably, he lived in the shadow of William Warren Scranton from the first day he took office. He never quite emerged in his own right.” Of Milton J. Shapp, Carocci writes he “was an outsider in state Democratic politics from the day he began his pursuit of public office in Pennsylvania,” adding that when “he left town, he departed as he came in—still very much the outsider.” To Carocci, Richard L. Thornburgh “was a paradox: a man with impressive, yea impeccable public service credentials, yet a man whose private actions often belied the public image he presented.” Although he “postured himself as a person of the highest integrity . . . Thornburgh was as calculating, combative, and cunning (in some ways much more so) than many of the same politicians for whom he professed such disdain.” For Robert P. Casey, in whose administration he served, the author saves the greatest accolades.
After leaving the Senate Democratic majority caucus, Carocci served as chief of staff for Senator Lewis, the ranking Democratic member of the Senate Appropriations Committee, became director of government relations for the state system of higher education and, finally, worked for Governor Casey from 1987 to 1995. He joined the Casey administration as deputy press secretary, served as secretary for government relations, and eventually was named press secretary. Casey, whom the author “admired without reservation,” was an individual who remained “true to his commitment to the forgotten communities of Pennsylvania and the people who called them home.” He did “more than any of his predecessors to empower women in the decision-making circles of state government.” He also helped “alleviate the financial burdens of the working poor by increasing the poverty exemption of the state income tax not once, but four times.”
A Capitol Journey: Reflections on the Press, Politics, and the Making of Public Policy in Pennsylvania is a memoir that was nearly forty years in the making and brims with anecdotes, frank portrayals, and intimate vignettes that could only be told by an insider. From his ringside seat as a news reporter through his position in the governor’s press office, Carocci saw it all. His journey took him the bottom of a coal mine, city halls and county courthouses, even the witness chair before a federal grand journey. Because Vince Carocci was both participant and eyewitness, A Capitol Journey resonates with an undeniable energy that swiftly carries the reader through the halls and corridors of the State Capitol where one meets the individuals who challenged or changed the course of history and made their indelible mark on Pennsylvania politics.
Michael J. O’Malley III is editor of Pennsylvania Heritage, published by the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission and the Pennsylvania Heritage Society.