INAUGURATIONS COME, INAUGURATIONS GO;
BUT BY THE TIME THEY’RE OVER, THEY STAY PRETTY MUCH TRUE TO FORM
January 2007
By VINCENT P. CAROCCI
The
second-term swearing in of Pennsylvania Gov. Edward G. Rendell the second
Tuesday in January ran very much true to form. There was the usual pomp, the
traditional
circumstance and the ever-present signature moment. That would have been when U.
S. Judge Midge Rendell, the first spouse
and a trained
singer, joined pop star Bon Jovi on stage at the inaugural gala for a rousing
and well-done duet that brought the gala goers to their feet.
When it comes to gubernatorial inaugurations, there are four constants always in
the mix: Cold weather in January; the inaugural speech; the afore-mentioned
signature moment which gives each celebration its historical imprint; and the
first-day-after initiative of the new or (in the context of two-term governors)
renewed Administration. When governors were permitted beginning in 1975 to
succeed themselves for one additional term, another set of constants emerged.
Second-term inaugurations over the last 30 years have been shorter, attended by
fewer celebrants with abbreviated entertainment and, as often as not, no
parades. The second Rendell swearing-in qualified on all counts. Thankfully, it
even met the Constitutional standard of the clock. The first inaugural four
years ago was delayed some 20 minutes after the Noon mandate by an unusually
lengthy speech by the newly installed lieutenant governor, Catherine Baker
Knoll. The second time around she was, mercifully, much more succinct in her
address.
But back to the main inaugural constants, first or second term, for historical
perspective if nothing else.
The Weather—The cold in January, even in the moderate climate of Central
Pennsylvania, always is a factor. Rendell’s second inaugural was blessed by an
unusually temperate day (temperatures in the low 40’s) but no inaugural
organizing committee dare not factor the weather into their plans. Govs. Edward
Martin in 1940 and David L. Lawrence in 1959 had their swearings-in moved
indoors (Martin’s to the Forum, Lawrence’s to the State Farm Show Building)
because of inclement weather (read that snow). The next two gubernatorial oath
takings—Scranton, 1963 and Shafer, 1967—simply were planned for the Farm Show to
remove the weather as an unknown. Milton Shapp in 1971 decided to return the
inaugural to the outdoors, the first chief executive to risk the elements since
Gov. George M. Leader in 1955. Shapp II in 1975 and, in their order, Richard
Thornburgh (1979 and 1983), Robert P. Casey Sr. (1987, 1991), Tom Ridge (1995,
1999) and Rendell (2003, 2007) each followed suit. All survived nicely, the cold
not withstanding.
Inaugural Speeches—Gubernatorial inaugural speeches have had one distinguishing
characteristic, certainly for the last half-century, and probably longer. They
all have been less than memorable. Confining ourselves for discussion purposes
to only those inaugurals I attended or observed, William W. Scranton’s address
in 1963 was praised in press accounts for its “Sandburgian” quality. But it also
was panned for being “more an exposition of faith in the people than a blue
print of things to come.” Raymond P. Shafer, in succeeding Scranton, committed
his Administration to a “Commonwealth of Excellence” dedicated to “leading the
nation.” But the address also was tweaked for being “highly philosophical with
only the vaguest outline” of how the Commonwealth was going to get there.
The aforementioned Shapp dedicated himself and his Administration to be the
“people’s advocate.” Yet his first-term inaugural is remembered as one of the
most elaborate certainly in modern times (to include a $100 cocktail party
hosted by former Gov. Leader two days before the swearing in; a pre-inaugural
brunch honoring the first and second ladies to-be the day before the
installation ceremonies; a pre-inaugural fund-raiser at which 500 silver
medallions could be purchased at $500 each and 275 gold medallions at a bargain
price of $1,000 each with a champagne dinner and a $50/person pre-inaugural ball
that night as part of the festivities; and on inaugural night, not one but three
inaugural balls, hosted for television coincidentally by former First Lady Mary
Jane Leader and Philadelphia television personality Roy Nassau, who later would
become one in a series of press secretaries to Gov. Shapp ). Is it any wonder
Shapp’s speech was lost in the flurry?
Shapp’s second-term inaugural address ran only 10 minutes and was interrupted by
applause only once, when he pledged no increase in taxes the next four years
(after having been required by national economic conditions and the state’s dire
fiscal circumstances to raise them twice in the first term).
Richard Thornburgh, who rode the Shapp Administration’s second-term scandals to
an overwhelming victory in 1978, pledged to “govern with a sense of purpose
characterized by frugality, simplicity, a sense of humanity and obtainable
expectations.” He also couldn’t resist taking a shot at the air of corruption
which plagued Shapp’s second term when he promised, with his predecessor on the
platform, to “restore people’s belief in the ability of their government to
serve them with strong, effective, forthright leadership.” (Thornburgh went to
such lengths to distance himself from his predecessor that years later, he would
insist that when Milton Shapp’s gubernatorial portrait was hung in the
Governor’s Office as tradition required, he (Thornburgh) would be away from the
capital city of Harrisburg that day.)
In their initial inaugurals, Robert P. Casey in 1987 pledged to create a New
Pennsylvania, and Tom Ridge eight years later essentially pledged to do him one
better. Rendell’s second-term speech was a noticeable break with tradition when,
with a laundry list of accomplishments claimed for the first term and the
promise of specific advances in specific areas of government in the second, he
delivered what seemed to many to be more of a State of the Commonwealth address
rather than an inaugural speech.
Signature Moments—Judge Mrs. Rendell was no doubt the spotlight performer at her
husband’s second inaugural celebration. But each preceding swearing-in certainly
had memorable moments of its own. Gov. Scranton wowed the standing-room-only
crowd at his Ball with a rousing Charleston before taking the baton to lead the
Inaugural band in song. Shafer’s swearing-in had a slight odor to it because
working crews (carpenters, cleaners, movers and associated colleagues) had to
work through the weekend to transform the Farm Show Building from an
agricultural exposition to a ceremonial forum.
Milton Shapp’s first Inaugural had its spotlight stolen more than just a bit
when Shafer’s outgoing attorney general, Fred Speaker, ordered the electric
chair dismantled just minutes before the power of office was transferred to the
new governor. His second was marred by an announcement just days prior from his
attorney general pledging a “full investigation” into missing state insurance
payments and possible pay-offs to former state officials. It was just a hint of
the scandals to come that would haunt the Administration for most of its second
term.
Richard and Mrs. Thornburgh were welcomed in the first term by a 2:30 PM “Royal
Salute from the Royal American Regiment artillery unit.” The salute was dropped
from second-term festivities four years later. But his repeat inaugural featured
a political fund-raiser at the Governor’s residence prior to the Inaugural Ball.
The principle of using the Governor’s Residence (built with public funds) to
host a fund-raising event for political purposes was so universally abhorrent
that legislation was enacted shortly thereafter to make political fund-raising
in public facilities like the residence an illegal act. It’s ironic that a
former U. S. Attorney and corruption-fighting prosecutor (and an U. S. Attorney
General in waiting) would have condoned the practice in the first instance.
Gov. Casey’s first inaugural was relatively moment free. But three-days before
he took his oath in 1987, the then governor-elect called on State Treasurer R.
Budd Dwyer to resign following his conviction in a federal trial on a charge of
corruption. (Two days after the inaugural, Dwyer shot himself to death at an
unforgettable press conference in the Treasurer’s internal office before he was
scheduled to depart for sentencing by the court.) The second-term Casey
inaugural was interrupted by hoots, catcalls and shrill whistles from HIV-Aids
protestors cordoned off on Third St. in Harrisburg just across from the
inaugural platform. At one point, Casey addressed the demonstrators directly.
Now that they had exercised their Constitutional right to free speech by their
demonstration, he exhorted, would they please afford him the same privilege to
address the people of Pennsylvania without interruption? They wouldn’t and
didn’t.
Gov. Tom Ridge, Casey’s successor in 1995, was the first Governor to take his
oath at the entry to the new Capitol extension in the rear of the main Capitol
Building. The Act-Up protestors were present again, but this time they were
cordoned off some distance from the platform. They could be heard in the
background, but not sufficiently to disrupt the proceedings.
Finally, first-day initiatives—Since Pennsylvania governors in the tenures of
Scranton and Shafer lived at the Indiantown Gap Military Reservation some 20
miles away, both newly sworn executives stayed their first night as Governor in
downtown hotels near the Capitol. Scranton arrived at his office at 8:30 AM as
promised. Later that day, his executive secretary, William Murphy, issued an
executive order declaring the Governor’s inner staff offices “off-limits” to the
press and everyone else “without appointment.” It did not sit well with the
Capitol Correspondents, who had a relatively free run at the staff in prior
administrations.
Shafer beat his predecessor to the office by 15 minutes, convened a half-hour
meeting with his gubernatorial staff, an hour meeting with his cabinet and,
faced with a tenuous national and state economy, announced later in the day the
formation of a special tax study commission to “evaluate the immediate revenue
needs of the Commonwealth.”
Shapp and Thornburgh ordered immediate freezes on the state payroll, par for the
course for new governors. Gov. Casey spent his first day in office traveling to
the small town of Monessen in southwestern Pennsylvania, fulfilling a campaign
promise to return after he took office to demonstrate his commitment that
economically stressed communities like that would not be forgotten in his
administration. Gov. Rendell this year went each of his predecessors a giant
step further. On Day One of Term Two, he unveiled a massive (47 separate
legislative proposals) and comprehensive plan, almost four years in the making,
to provide health care coverage to more Pennsylvanians, children and adult, at
more affordable prices. .
The announcement, without question, was the most ambitious start up of any
second-term governor these last 30-some years. It also was, without question, an
unequivocal declaration from this governor that any one thinking he would coast
in “lame duck” status through his new term had better think again. But coming
from a governor so high-energy with his exemplary political and persuasive
skills, it wasn’t surprising at all.
There is, however, another side to this coin. The undeniable fact is that the
political and power clock begins to run on any second-term chief executive the
moment he lowers his hand at the conclusion of his oath. The obstacles to success
on major second term achievements are not insurmountable, to be sure. But it is
undeniable that time and state history, particularly once mid-term is reached,
are not on his side. The next two years will be critical to him and his stated
goals.
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Copyright (c) 2008 VPC, L.L.C.