Our Democracy

We refer to our system as “democracy,” but that’s only shorthand for Democratic Republic.

Our democracy has held, survived, prevailed.

Our democracy is a mental exercise not a gut reaction.

It was created by people of thought who sought to extend the rights of a privileged few to all.

Our democracy is strengthened by progress born of thoughtful consideration, weakened by confrontation encouraged by intentional antagonisms.

It is based on seeking truth, debased by accepting lies.

Our democracy has led to shared progress, often slower and more painful than desired. It has been set back by selfish and unthinking fears of change.

Our democracy respects and expects service. It is damaged by those who grasp only for power.

It is enhanced by firm belief in the ultimate wisdom of many. It is endangered by blind loyalty to the whims of one.

Our democracy is strengthened by respectful differences, weakened by disrespectful demands for conformity.

Sometimes we stray from the former into the muck of the latter.

There has always been someone to pull us out.

But it is our responsibility to be sure our rescuer is worthy of our gratitude.

Our democracy gives us that chance.

Every four years.

We celebrate that opportunity today.

Dr. Crane on the Ticking Clock

(The General Assembly has begun its 2021 session. Governor Parson has begun his four-years as the head of our state government. The work of the legislature and the work of the governor—and other elected officials—is limited by time, of which there is plenty now.  But by May 1, time will have become a fearful enemy. The General assembly must approve a budget about two weeks later and adjourn in less than three.  Campaigns in 2022 and 2024, now so distant, will become a weight on the shoulders of those who hoped their actions would become a praiseworthy legacy.  So it is that we turn to Dr. Frank Crane today and his observations about—–)

TIME

Old Father Time knows more than anybody.

He solves more problems than all the brains in the world.

More hard knots are unloosed, more tangled questions are answered, more deadlocks are unfastened by Time than by any other agency.

In the theological disputes that once raged in Christendom neither side routed the other; Time routed them both by showing that the whole subject did not matter.

After the contemporaries had had their say, Time crowned Homer, Dante, Wagner, Shakespeare, Whitman, Emerson.

Amost any judgment can be appealed, but from the decision of Time there is no appeal.

Do not force issues with your children. Learn to wait. Be patient. Time will bring things to pass that no immediate power can accomplish.

Do not create a crisis with your husband, your wife. Wait. See what Time will do.

Time has a thousand resources, abounds in unexpected expedients.

Time brings a change in point of view, in temper, in state of mind which no contention can.

When you teach, make allowance for Time. What the child cannot possibly understand now, he can grasp easily a year from now.

When you have a difficult business affair to settle, give it Time, put it away and see how it will ferment, sleep on it, give it as many days as you can. It will often settle itself.

If you would produce a story, a play, a book, or an essay, write it out, then lay it aside and let it simmer, forget it a while, then take it out and write it over.

Time is the best critic, the shrewdest adviser, the frankest friend.

If you are positive you want to marry a certain person, let Time have his word. Nowhere is Time’s advice more needed. Today we may be sure, but listen to a few tomorrows.

You are born and you will die whenever fate decides; you have nothing to do with those fatal two things; but in marriage, the third fatality, you have Time. Take it.

Do not decide your beliefs and convictions suddenly. Hang up the reasons to cure. You come to permanent ideas not only by reasoning, but quite as much by growth.

Do not hobble your whole life by the immature certainties of youth. Give yourself room to change, for you must change, if you are to develop.

“Learn to labor and—to wait!”

-0-

When You’ve Been President—-

What else is there?

It’s the old, “What do you get somebody who has everything?”

Our current president will be our most immediate past-president soon and his lack of interest in giving up control of (1) the office, (2) the country, and (3) the Republican Party has sent us off to find out what ex-presidents for the past century have done after departing the biggest stage in the world.

What we have found is that past-presidents didn’t exactly disappear but many did keep or have kept low profiles. Others remained politically visible although none has tried to maintain power as our current president wants to do.

CALVIN COOLIDGE (1923-1929) succeed Warren G. Harding on Harding’s death.  Coolidge is remembered as “Silent Cal” for his disdain for lengthy public pronouncements. In one of his stage presentations, Will Rogers referred to Coolidge as “a tight chewer and a close spitter.” His announcement, “I do not choose to run for President in 1928” is part of our political tradition. Rutgers University History Professor David Greenberg has written, “He was never one who loved power or fame and was ready to be ‘relieved of the pretensions and delusions of public life.’” He spent his first four years out of office writing his autobiography and in 1931 wrote a nationally syndicated newspaper column. He died January 5, 1933.

HERBERT HOOVER (1929-1933) was only 58 when he left the presidency, the fall guy for the Great Depression. He was wealthy enough that he did not need to work and  historian David Hamilton at the University of Kentucky says, “Few Republicans in the 1930s wanted Hoover involved in party politics because of his negative standing in the popular mind.”  He independently became a strong critic of Roosevelt’s New Deal and considered many of its programs “fascistic.” In 1938 he met Adolph Hitler and let him know in no uncertain terms that he strongly disliked Hitler’s shouting during their private meeting.  He did not favor American intervention in Europe until the attack on Pearl Harbor, at which point he—as did most “America First” figures—changed his mind. Roosevelt appointed him to head an international relief organization for Poland, Finland, and Belgium. He continued working under President Truman on food issues for the war-torn countries and in 1947 became the chairman of a commission to reorganize the executive branch of government. The Hoover Commission as it was called, disappointed Congressional Republicans who hoped it would dismantle FDR’s programs. Instead, the commission strengthened the Executive Branch, laying the groundwork for the modern presidency. He was critical of Truman’s decision to intervene in Korea. Hamilton says he supported a buildup of naval and air power, felt Europeans could do more to defend themselves against the Soviet Union. He supported Ohio Senator Robert Taft for President in 1948 and 1952, Eisenhower in ’56. He wasn’t fond of Richard Nixon and endorsed Barry Goldwater in 1964, shortly before his death at the age of ninety.

HARRY TRUMAN (1945-1953), plain-spoken in the White House, remained plain-spoken in private life. His library in Independence was built with private funds. He enjoyed spending time at his office there and in talking with groups that came for tours, especially school children. After losing the New Hampshire Primary in 1952, he withdrew as a candidate for a full term and pushed for Adlai Stevenson to be his party’s nominee. Stevenson lost to Dwight Eisenhower and lost again in ’56. Truman often criticized Eisenhower policies. Alonzo Hamby, an Ohio University history professor, says he got along better with John Kennedy although he once thought Kennedy was too young and too Catholic to be a successful candidate for the job. Hamby says he was more comfortable with Lyndon Johnson and his antagonistic attitude toward Richard Nixon was often made clear. He died the day after Christmas, 1972.

DWIGHT D. EISENHOWER (1953-1961), who switched his first two names early in life (he was born David Dwight Eisenhower) retired to his farm adjacent to the Gettysburg battlefield. He and Mamie wintered in Indian Wells, California. They travelled. “Ike” remained a World War II icon for thousands of American veterans. Presidents Kennedy and Johnson consulted him.  But he was not aggressively involved in politics—as Truman had been—beyond that.

LYNDON JOHNSON (1963-1969) stunned the nation with his announcement on March 31, 1968 that he would not seek another term as President.  The Vietnam War and the heavy public criticism of his policies led him to announced, “With America’s sons in the fields far away, with America’s future under challenge right here at home, with our hopes and the world’s hopes for peace in the balance every day, I do not believe that I should devote an hour or a day of my time to any personal partisan causes or to any duties other than the awesome duties of this office—the presidency of this country. Accordingly, I shall not seek, and I will not accept, the nomination of my party for another term as your president.” Johnson was not a well man when he left the presidency. He spent his remaining days writing his memoirs, overseeing the development of his presidential library, tending to his investments, and enjoying life at his beloved Texas ranch. He died on January 22, 1973. University of South Carolina historian Kent Germany recalls his death happened one day before the Paris Peace Accords ended the Vietnam War and two days before what would have been his second term had be run and been re-elected.

RICHARD NIXON (1969-1974) was deeply in debt when he resigned in disgrace and returned to California with a lot of unpaid lawyers’ bills. He survived some health problems later that year and regained his financial footing by penning his autobiography and by accepting $600,000 for a series of interviews with David Frost, a British television personality. Researcher Ken Hughes at the University of Virginia’s Miller Center recounts the international community had trouble grasping the seriousness of Watergate, leading to Nixon’s cautious re-entry on the public stage with his 1976 trip to China, where he was warmly received. He made his first public speech to a small group in Kentucky in 1978 and in 1980 moved to New York, then to New Jersey. Nixon became a trusted but non-publicized advisor to later Presidents Carter, Reagan, and George H.W. Bush as a recognized expert on foreign policy. He wrote several books. When he died in 1994, President Clinton eulogized him, “”May the day of judging President Nixon on anything less than his entire life and career come to a close.”

GERALD FORD (1974-1977) seemed to settle into a comfortable retirement in California. He was a frequent lecturer and wrote an autobiography and some other books.  He raised eyebrows as a potential Vice-President for Ronald Reagan, a bid that fizzled when word of it became public. He continued to write extensively and served on various corporate boards.  In 2001 he co-chaired the National Commission on Federal Election Reform. Ford died the day after Christmas, 2006, thirty-four years to the day after the death of Harry Truman.

JIMMY CARTER (1977-1981) is regarded by some as a much better former-president than a president. He returned to his home state of Georgia where he “emerged as a champion of human rights and worked for several charitable causes,” according to Washignton and Lee University Professor of Politics Robert Strong. He founded the Carter Presidential Center at Emory University  which is known for studying matters related to human rights and democracy. His work with Habitat for Humanity is widely known and he has served as an unofficial international ambassador mediating disputes between our State Department and “the most volatile of foreign leaders including Libya’s Muammar Qaddaffi and North Korea’s Kim Il Sung.  He also has written several books. Since 2015 he has been treated for concer of the liver and the brain and has battled other health issues—all the while continuing to teach Sunday School when he can at Atlanta’s Maranatha Baptist Church. Last October first, he became the first past-president to reach his 96th birthday (he was the first to reach 95,too).

RONALD REAGAN (1981-1989), who popularized the so-called “Eleventh Commandment” created by California GOP chairman Gaylord Parkinson, “Thou shalt not speak ill of any fellow Republican,”  a commandment pulverized by his current successor in the White House, retired to live the good life riding his horses on his California ranch, organizing his memoirs, and writing his autobiography until August, 1994 when he issued an open letter to the American people that he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Toward the end of his letter, he said, “I now begin the journey that will lead me into the sunset of my life. I know that for America there will always be a bright dawn ahead.”  He mostly withdrew from the public eye after that and died almost ten years later, his final years the impetus for millions of dollars in donations for Alzheimer’s research. It was a graceful exit for a former actor.

GEORGE HERBERT WALKER BUSH (1989-1993) enjoyed retirement back in Houston, Texas where he became just another private citizens—as much as a former president can become one. Professor Stephen Knott at the United States Naval War College recalls he sat on various boards, including a Houston hospital board, and was active, with wife Barbara, in their church. They also enjoyed summers at their place in Kennebunkport, Maine. He and Bill Clinton, who defeated in his re-election bid, became close friends when they jointly raised money for tsunami relief in Southeast Asia. He was not active in politics until his two sons became governors of Florida and Texas, with George W. making to the White House as the first son of a former president to hold the office since John Quincy Adams was elected in 1824. He was 94 when he died in 2018, seven months after the death Barbara, his wife of 73 years.

BILL CLINTON (1993-2001) has been one of our most visible ex-presidents as a frequent speaker, political analyst, and founder of the Clinton Presidential Foundation. University of Virginia Professor Russell Riley says the foundation’s agenda “includes combating HIV/AIDS, fostering racial and ethnic reconciliation, and promoting the economic empowerment of poor people.”  It was impossible for him to stay out of the political spotlight although he was not the center of attraction in 2016 when his wife, Hillary, polled more popular votes than Donald Trump but lost in the electoral college.

GEORGE W. BUSH (2001-2009), “Bush 43” as some call him, is comfortably retired, commenting, “I think part of having a fulfilling life is to be challenged. I’m challenged on the golf course, I’m challenged to stay fit, and I’m challenged by my paintings…I am happy.”  He left office with sixty percent of the American people think he was a below-average President and with an approval rating of 33%.  University of Louisville Professor Gary Gregg II says Bush, “no typical politician, he seemed to enjoy the relaxation and time away from power.”  He has, for the most part, stayed away from politics, becoming just another private citizen hosting barbecues at his home and going to local events. He was inspired by one of his heroes, Winston Churchill, to take up painting. He’s gotten some national attention for his portrayals of world leaders he met during his time in the White House and of his pets. Gregg says the George W. Bush Center at Southern Methodist University continues “discussions about the best policies to foster economic growth, human freedom, education, global health, and various women’s initiatives. He is active in charity work such as an annual 62-mile bike ride and a golf tournament that raises money for wounded veterans. He’s also gone to Africa to hike awareness of cervical cancer.

He has stayed aloof from politics and issued a statement after the 2020 election saying in part,     “The fact that so many of our fellow citizens participated in this election is a positive sign of the health of our democracy and a reminder to the world of its strength. No matter how you voted, your vote counted. President Trump has the right to request recounts and pursue legal challenges, and any unresolved issues will be properly adjudicated. The American people can have confidence that this election was fundamentally fair, its integrity will be upheld, and its outcome is clear.”

BARACK OBAMA (2009-2017) left office ranked in one poll as the second-most popular President since World War II (Ronald Reagan was a point higher). Rhodes College Professor Michael Nelson notes a C-SPAN survey of  91 presidential scholars, presidential historians, and political scientists ranked him as the 12th best president in American history (Reagan was 8th).  He and his popular First Lady, Michelle, have written best-selling autobiographies. Both have been highly visible as public speakers with the former president catching flack for taking $400,000 for one speech although Jeff Wallenfeldt writes for the Encyclopedia Britannica that “supporters countered that those high gees contributed to making it possible for Obama to donate some $3 million to job-training programs for low-income residents of the Chicago area.”

As his successor appeared intent on rolling back many programs of the Obama administration policies, Wallenfeldt says, Obama “for the most part honored the unwritten tradition of former presidents refraining from criticism of their successor’s actions” although he did object to some Trump policies. He became more vocal in his criticisms during the 2020 campaign and served as Joe Biden’s wingman in the closing months of the effort to unseat President Trump expressing confidence in “the character and leadership ability” of his former vice-president.

(These preceding assessments are based on writings for the University of Virginia’s Miller Center except for the Wallenfeldt assessment of the post-presidential career of Obama.)

Donald Trump exit from the office will become an addition to a trick trivia question: “How many Presidents did not die in the United States?”  The new answer, for now, will be five—Carter, Clinton, George W. Bush, Obama, and now, Trump.

All of our past presidents have given up power gracefully although several remained outspoken about the course of the nation after their return to civilian life. The nation has been able to move beyond them, allowing a new leader to rise or fall on his own. Whether the nation moves beyond Donald Trump, who believes he can continue to run the country by his own means outside of the Oval Office, is something the nation will have to prove for itself—and can prove for itself if it acknowledges service in its highest office is a gift from its citizens of temporary authority, not a grant of perpetual power.

The great quotation

It is early in the legislative session, early in the work of a new Congress. In a troubled time, it is good to recall one of the great statements of what government must be and what those who serve in it must be.

The single line or the single paragraph that constitutes a memorable and motivating quotation from a prominent figure often is set forth to guide us.   The words sometimes are carved into great stone walls to encourage those who see them or serve under them to eschew pettiness for the sake of noble acts.

So it is with a quotation from English statesman Edmund Burke:

“Your representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgment; and he betrays you instead of serving you if he sacrifices it to your opinion.”

In today’s politics, loyalty is a word often used and sometimes ill-used.  Loyalty to an individual.  Loyalty to a party.  Loyalty to a specific constituency. Loyalty to personal ambition. Burke challenges those who feel or are pressured to feel a need to be loyal without thought.

The problem with loyalty is that it can limit the ability to do what is right.  It becomes an excuse to excuse. It can breed a fear of consequence that can stifle a motivation to do good. It can turn public service into self-service. At times, it endangers freedom.

The noble quotation can suffer from brevity.  Such might be the case with Burke, who later added:

Parliament is a deliberative Assembly of one Nation, with one Interest, that of the whole; where, not local Purposes, not local Prejudices ought to guide, but the general Good, resulting from the general Reason of the whole.

This is a time when all of us, and particularly those who represent us in our state and national governments, to take to heart what Burke said. All of it.

So we invite you to read this essential part of a speech to the Electors of Bristol on November 3, 1774, upon being elected to represent them in London, and in doing so we hope you gain dimension to his famous remark.  The language is the formal rhetoric of the late 18th Century but therein might be its power and the beauty of his clarity of thought.

Editor Francis Canavan notes in the forward to the book from which this text is taken, “Although he was skeptical of democracy as a form of government for any but small countries (and not optimistic even there), he did believe that government existed for the good of the whole community and must represent the interests of all its people. But…his idea of representation was not the radically democratic one that saw representation as a mere substitute for direct democracy and a representative as a mere agent of the local electorate whose duty it was to carry out its wishes despite his own best judgment… Rather, he argued in his Bristol speech, a representative was to act for the interest of his constituents, to be sure, but as part of a larger national whole, in accordance with the enlightened judgment that could be exercised only at the center of government and in possession of the knowledge available there. If nothing were at issue in politics but the question of whose will should prevail, clearly the will of the electors should. But for Burke, political judgment was a matter of reason: prudent, practical reason.”

It ought to be the happiness and glory of a Representative, to live in the strictest union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved communication with his constituents. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him; their opinion high respect; their business unremitted attention. It is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfactions, to theirs; and, above all, ever, and in all cases, to prefer their interest to his own. But, his unbiassed opinion, his mature judgement, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you; to any man, or to any set of men living. These he does not derive from your pleasure; no, nor from the Law and the Constitution. They are a trust from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable. Your Representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgement; and he betrays, instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion. My worthy Colleague says, his Will ought to be subservient to yours. If that be all, the thing is innocent. If Government were a matter of Will upon any side, yours, without question, ought to be superior. But Government and Legislation are matters of reason and judgement, and not of inclination; and, what sort of reason is that, in which the determination precedes the discussion; in which one set of men deliberate, and another decide; and where those who form the conclusion are perhaps three hundred miles distant from those who hear the arguments? To deliver an opinion, is the right of all men; that of Constituents is a weighty and respectable opinion, which a Representative ought always to rejoice to hear; and which he ought always most seriously to consider. But authoritative instructions; Mandates issued, which the Member is bound blindly and implicitly to obey, to vote, and to argue for, though contrary to the clearest conviction of his judgement and conscience; these are things utterly unknown to the laws of this land, and which arise from a fundamental Mistake of the whole order and tenor of our Constitution. Parliament is not a Congress of Ambassadors from different and hostile interests; which interests each must maintain, as an Agent and Advocate, against other Agents and Advocates; but Parliament is a deliberative Assembly of one Nation, with one Interest, that of the whole; where, not local Purposes, not local Prejudices ought to guide, but the general Good, resulting from the general Reason of the whole. You choose a Member indeed; but when you have chosen him, he is not Member of Bristol, but he is a Member of Parliament. If the local Constituent should have an Interest, or should form an hasty Opinion, evidently opposite to the real good of the rest of the Community, the Member for that place ought to be as far, as any other, from any endeavor to give it Effect. I beg pardon for saying so much on this subject. I have been unwillingly drawn into it; but I shall ever use a respectful frankness of communication with you. Your faithful friend, your devoted servant, I shall be to the end of my life: A flatterer you do not wish for. On this point of instructions, however, I think it scarcely possible, we ever can have any sort of difference. Perhaps I may give you too much, rather than too little trouble. From the first hour I was encouraged to court your favor to this happy day of obtaining it, I have never promised you anything, but humble and persevering endeavors to do my duty. The weight of that duty, I confess, makes me tremble; and whoever well considers what it is, of all things in the world will fly from what has the least likeness to a positive and precipitate engagement. To be a good Member of Parliament, is, let me tell you, no easy task; especially at this time, when there is so strong a disposition to run into the perilous extremes of servile compliance, or wild popularity. To unite circumspection with vigor, is absolutely necessary; but it is extremely difficult. We are now Members for a rich commercial City; this City, however, is but a part of a rich commercial Nation, the Interests of which are various, multiform, and intricate. We are Members for that great Nation, which however is itself but part of a great Empire…All these wide-spread Interests must be considered; must be compared; must be reconciled if possible. We are Members for a free Country; and surely we all know, that the machine of a free Constitution is no simple thing; but as intricate and as delicate, as it is valuable.

(This transcript is drawn from  one of the four volumes of Burke’s writings and speeches, particularly: E. J. Payne, Select Works of Edmund Burke; Miscellaneous Writings; Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 1999).

Things seemed so normal then

Remember how normal things seemed the last time we gathered on a chilly Monday on the south front of the Capitol lawn for the inauguration of a new governor?

Eric Greitens, a young Republican populist, riding the wave of the Donald Trump-led populist surge nationally, was sworn in as governor in what he referred to in his opening remarks as “our republic’s most revered ritual: the peaceful transfer of power.”

Greitens, who saw the governorship as one step in his eventual trip to the White House, promised to “be loyal to your needs and priorities—not to those who posture or pay for influence.”

Former sheriff and former senator Mike Parson, days removed from open-heart surgery, surprised some of us by being on the platform, taking the oath as Lieutenant Governor.

Jay Ashcroft, son of a former state auditor, attorney general, governor, and U. S. Senator John Ashcroft (only Mel Carnahan matched him by holding four statewide offices in his career), was sworn in as Secretary of State.

Former Senator Eric Schmitt became the new State Treasurer that day.

And University of Missouri law professor Josh Hawley took over as Attorney General after a campaign in which he vowed he would not use the office as a stepping stone to something higher.

Nobody wore masks that day, four years and two days ago.

Eleven days later, another inauguration saw Donald Trump rise to the Presidency, a surprise to many in the Republican establishment and a frightening possibility in the eyes of many who were not his deepest believers.

How normal things seemed even then—despite the uneasiness many felt about the tenor of the campaigns that put Greitens and Trump in office on those days.

A few months after that bright but chilly January day, Greitens was gone, resigning before he could be impeached after refusing to reveal records of his campaign and ongoing finances, and being dragged through the headlines generated by a sex scandal.

His resignation triggered unprecedented chair-swapping in state government.  Mike Parson moved up to governor and appointed term-limited Senate leader Mike Kehoe as the new Lieutenant Governor, an appointment later ruled legal by the Missouri Supreme Court.

Josh Hawley, forgetting his promise not to use his office as a stepping stone, rode the continuing Trump wave to victory over Claire McCaskill two years later, leading Governor Parson to appoint State Treasurer  Schmitt to replace Hawley in the Attorney General’s Office. The House budget chairman, Scott Fitzpatrick, was appointed to become the new Treasurer.

Only Jay Ashcroft remains where voters put him four years and two days ago.

Today is far different from that day four years ago.

Our capitol has emerged from months in a giant plastic cocoon in which workers cleaned and replaced stone put in place more than a century ago, ended serious water leakage problems, and even restored Ceres, the patron goddess of agriculture, to the top of the dome so she once again welcomes those attending today’s ceremonies.

Mike Parson is being sworn in for a term of his own as governor, bearing the scars of dealing with a pandemic, a state economic collapse it caused, and the pain of the budget cuts he had to make–all in an election year.

Eric Greitens’ wife left him; he reportedly is hoping he can rehabilitate himself to seek public office again, although his thoughts of a presidency might be much dimmer than they were when inauguration day was HIS day full of hope.

Josh Hawley, with his own dreams of White House glory, is under intense criticism from former supporters in the public and present colleagues in Washington for his attempt to capitalize on Donald Trump’s conspiracy theories that have led to one of the most alarming political incidents in our lifetimes.

Donald Trump is isolated and increasingly alone, living the bitter final days in power he fears giving up, the idea of a peaceful transfer of power completely foreign to him.

And today we wear masks, our nation still under siege from a terrible virus that has forced us to withdraw from friends and family.

Oddly enough, a sentence from the inaugural address of Eric Greitens on January 9, 2017 comes to mind.

“This state in the heart of America has proven that the worst in our history can be overcome by the best in our people.”

Let us hope and fervently pray that on that, at least, he will be correct.

 

Stop the Steal—Missouri, 1941

The sordid contemporary events that will forever be a lamentable chapter of American history strongly remind us of a similar lamentable chapter in our own state’s history.

This year is the 80th anniversary of the attempt by majority Democrats to steal the governorship from Republican Forrest Donnell, who had won the governorship by the narrowest margin in state history.  Here is how it went down:

Forrest Donnell, a Sunday-school teacher and lawyer from St. Louis officially defeated one of the pupils in his church class, Lawrence McDaniel, by 3,613 votes. McDaniel was backed by St. Louis Mayor Bernard Dickmann’s political machine that Donnell attacked as a potential successor of the infamous Pendergast Machine of Kansas City, badly weakened because “Boss Tom” had been sent to federal prison for violating tax laws.

Shortly after the election, State Democratic Committee Chairman C. Marion Hulen of Moberly announced the committee would investigate reports of “election irregularities.”  Committeeman Frank H. Lee of Joplin announced he had evidence that McDaniel had actually won by 7,500 votes.

In those days, the Speaker of the House, not the Secretary of State, made the official announcement of winning candidates. The legislature convened on January 8, 1941 but Speaker Morris Osborn made no pronouncements. At a joint session on the tenth, Osborn certified the Democratic candidates for statewide office as winners but refused to certify Donnell.

Traditional inaugural ceremonies on January 13th were cancelled.  Lt. Governor Frank Harris took his oath for a third term in the Missouri Senate, where the Lt. Governor is the chamber President.  The other statewide office holders took their oaths at the Supreme Court.  Donnell refused to be sworn by a Justice of the Peace and, instead, asked the court to order Osborn to declare him the winner. A second lawsuit asked the court to forbid a legislative committee from starting a recount.

Two days later, an angry Stark to a joint legislative session,

Your every thought and every effort should be to prove to the people of this great commonwealth that their faith in democracy is not misplaced, that democracy does and will work in Missouri. Nothing should be done at any time to shake the faith of our people in their democratic form of government. In these perilous times, it is doubly necessary that every public official in the state and in the nation should lean backward in an effort to serve the people strictly according to the constitution and the laws of the land without partisan bias and with only the welfare and the safety of our democratic form of government in mind.

Democrats started a recount anyway.  February was half-gone when the Supreme Court ordered Osborn, under the Constitution, to declare Donnell elected, allowing McDaniel to file a notice contesting the election, triggering a legal recount.  The Joplin Globe editorialized, “Larry McDaniel has at once forfeited the moral support of thousands of Democrats who from the first have been nauseated from the stench from the original office-stealing effort.”

Donnell (left) finally was sworn in on February 26, much to the delight of Lloyd Stark who said he was tired of “living out of a suitcase” while his fellow Democrats tried to overturn the election.

McDaniel’s 226-page contest petition was filed March 4, citing fraud, erroneous tabulations, irregularities, and vote-buying in 56 counties. He claimed that a complete would show that 24,263 votes cast for him were “wrongfully rejected” by election officials and that he was the real winner—by 30,000 votes.  Donnell’s 50,000-word response filed about three weeks later threw McDaniel’s claims back at him claiming problems in 91 counties such as irregular registrations, voting by minors, non-residents, and wards of the government. He claimed he should have an additional 9,000 votes.

The recount started in mid-April and by May had turned into a disaster for McDaniel.  Checked returns from St. Louis City and 81 counties had inflated Donnell’s victory margin by four-thousand votes.  A new joint legislative session was called after McDaniel had arranged for hastily-drawn letters withdrawing his contest. He said he had become convinced that reports by his party leaders and others that there had been massive fraud were “greatly exaggerated” and that he was convinced “beyond question of doubt” that Donnell had been elected. Because the recount was never completed, Donnell’s victory margin remains in our history books and in the official record as 3,613 votes, the second-closest race for governor in state history (Frederick Gardner defeated Henry Lamm by 2,263 votes in 1917).

Forrest Donnell was elected to the U. S. Senate, succeeding Democrat Harry Truman.  He served until 1951 and returned to St. Louis and his law practice. He was the last Republican Governor until Christopher Bond took office in 1973.  Donnell, then 88 years old, attended Bond’s inauguration and took part in the celebration late into the night.  He died in 1980 at the age of 95.

Democrats paid a price for their 1941 shenanigans.  Republicans took control of the House in the 1942 elections by a large margin.

One of the other casualties was St. Louis Mayor Bernard Dickmann who was heavily criticized by winner William Becker for trying to use the election contest of 1941 to establish St. Louis machine control of state government.

A new constitution drafted during Donnell’s term in office took away the power of the Speaker of the House to declare election winners and placed it in the hands of the Secretary of State, the top Missouri elections official, where it resides to this day.

(Photo credit):  Bob Priddy Collection

 

What is a public servant worth?

The people we elected two months ago to write our laws begin their work at noon today, joining those we elected two years ago.  They are paid $35,915 a year and receive $119 a day per diem. Is that enough?  Knowing that there are those who think they should receive nothing, is there nonetheless a minimum that is appropriate for the burden they shoulder on behalf of all 6.1-million Missourians?

Somebody once told your faithful observer that ministers who think they should be paid more than the average salary of the congregation are not long for that pulpit. That is more likely to work at the church on the corner than at the church on the television.

The latest figures we could find from the Census Bureau says the median household income in Missouri, in 2018 dollars was $53,560.  The per-capita income from 2014-2018, in 2018 dollars, was $29,537.  That means that each adult earned that much. And so did any children, even those asleep in their cribs.

We mention these things because one of the first major challenges to confront the Missouri General Assembly in 2021 will be their salaries and those of others in state government.

Years ago, before the small fire of distrust in politics had been turned into a blowtorch, the legislature established a 21-member Citizens’ Commission on Compensation for Elected Officials to meet every couple of years and study salaries paid to statewide officials, legislators, and judges and recommend any adjustments.  The idea was to lessen voter criticism that lawmakers were feathering their own nests by voting themselves pay increases.

The commission is required to be diverse in makeup.  State law says:

One member must have experience in the field of personnel management, one must represent organized labor; one must represent small business in the state, one must be the chief executive officer of a business doing an average gross annual business in excess of one million dollars; one must represent the health care industry; one must represent agriculture; and two must be over the age of 60 years; two public members appointed by the Governor must be citizens of a third class county (third class counties are small ones) north of the Missouri River, two must be citizens of a third class county south of the Missouri River; one member from each congressional district must be selected at random by the Secretary of State; one member must be a retired judge appointed by the judges of the Supreme Court.

An effort is made to avoid  conflicts of interest.

No state official, no member of the general assembly, no active judge of any court, no employee of the state or any of its institutions, boards, commissions, agencies or other entities, no elected or appointed official or employee of any political subdivision of the state, and no lobbyist as defined by law shall serve as a member of the commission. No parent, spouse, child, or dependent relative of any person ineligible for service on the commission may serve on the commission.

But the commission’s work usually is all for naught for one reason.

The legislature has the power to reject the recommendation.  And it does, time after time, because it fears the folks at home will accuse them of nest-feathering.

The legislature has to reject the recommendations by February 1.  And it’s an all or nothing deal.  Pay hikes have failed for fourteen years not only for legislators but for other elected officials,  because the legislature has rejected every recommendation.

This year’s report, eighteen pages long, does not place a heavy burden on taxpayers. The commission estimates recommended raises for the 197 members of the legislature, all of the state judges, and the six statewide elected officials would cost the state about $200,000 a year, a pittance in a state budget that totals something north of $31-Billion before federal pandemic relief funds were added.

For the people we elected as our State Representatives and State Senators on November 3, the recommendations will mean nothing. They cannot accept pay raises during their current terms in office.  So all 163 members of the House and half of the Senate (17) will not get raises if the recommendations are accepted. For them, the raises will kick in only if they get re-elected.

The commission suggests $37,111 would be fair for legislators, given the responsibilities lawmakers bear year-around, not just during the January-May sessions. The increase amounts to $1,096 for our legislators. That works out to $78.30 a year for the fourteen years since the last raise.

Only eighteen governors have lower salaries than Governor Parson has–$133,821. The commission’s recommendation would give him about $7,000 more.

For those who think government should be run as a business is run, let’s make this a business structure.

Governor Parson is the CEO of MOGOV INC. This is a $35.3 Billion multifaceted company serving people in every county and every town in the state of Missouri and has 197 employees assigned to serve every one of those counties and towns. It has a legal department to make sure the things it does for the people in those counties and towns are fair and proper under the law.  The company has thousands of workers in its central office and branch offices.

Some folks who are not part of the corporation think a lot of those 197 employees are just part-timers. But they’re not.  Those 197 people are at their customers’ beck and call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Their heaviest work period is usually January-May but they’re on duty all the time and they have no job security because their contracts that can be terminated every two or every four years. And on top of that, most of them are forced to leave their jobs after eight years regardless of their level of excellence. Once they go out the door, they can never come back. Ever, no matter how competent they are.

Somebody has come along, however, and says fourteen years is a long time to go without a raise; most of these people have never had one, in fact.  Two-and-a-half percent isn’t much of an increase after all these years.

But they’re afraid to take it because their neighbors might talk. And so they’ll probably say, sometime this month, “That’s nice, but, no, that’s okay, you keep it.”

It is true that most of our 197 legislators have jobs in the real world. Only a few live on the salaries that have been frozen for more than a decade.  But that’s not the issue.

You and I choose these people to represent us in one of the most difficult jobs a person can have. We entrust them to enact the policies that govern our lives from birth (or before) to death (and sometimes after). The way they go about it is often sloppy and ugly and not very dignified. But it’s their job and we expect them to find a way to satisfy enough of us that we’ll renew their contract every few years until we are prohibited by an unfortunate constitutional provision to do so.

How much should we pay the people who run a $35 Billion corporation that touches our lives every hour of every day?

They have not come to us to ask for a raise. People who represent us in this corporate structure think it’s time, after fourteen years, to give them a 2.5% bump. After fourteen years.

But they likely will consider it unseemly to take even a little pay raise when the thousands of employees in the central office and the branch offices are still among the lowest-paid in the country and company finances are shaky. This also isn’t a good time because of the problems caused by a pandemic and its impact on the livelihoods of those they work for in each county and town.

The commission has made a nice gesture.  But our public servants are not likely to accept it. Again.

Someday, if enough of the public that has been encouraged for so long to mistrust the people they elect to serve them discovers most of their mistrust has been misplaced, there will be a little raise.  But probably not this time.

Fear of the Mob

This will be brief.

The U. S. Senate meets Wednesday to confirm the results of the Electoral College. Many Republican Senators and Representatives are up for re-election in 2022.  We’ve been hearing that some of those people don’t want to antagonize our president and his base by quietly agreeing to the results of the election. He already has threatened to “primary” some Republican office-holders who have repudiated his repeatedly-rejected (by the courts) claims of election fraud.

Those who bow to his intimidation are, in effect, signaling that they fear standing against mob rule, for it is clear that this president is unafraid to promote mob behavior in the streets, on the internet, or even in the front yards of elected officials who dare to stand for the truth.

And when the mob becomes a motivator for political decisions, especially if they are decisions focused on individual political futures, it is a slap in the faces of our founders and endangering the constitutional republic they gave us and for which millions have sacrificed their lives to defend.

This is a time to stand against the mob and against the one who thinks it is an acceptable tool to obtain or retain power.  There is never a time for cowardice. There is always a time for courage.

Wednesday will be one of those times.

(We hope Dr. Crane can resume his normal place on Mondays next week.)

Us vs. It—part XII What’s next?

It’s been a while (August) since we had a Us vs It entry but with vaccines starting to go into people’s arms, we have reached a new stage in this siege.

Even as we remain absorbed by the fight against the Coronavirus, we must start thinking of what comes after.

We will be different when we emerge from this plague. We will see in a glaring spotlight the shortcomings in our American system of doing things.  The list of issues, which must be addressed in ways that bridge a chasm of partisanship, will be long and should be inescapable.

Tough and thorough evaluations need to be made at the federal and state levels of the conditions of our readiness in the current situation and our preparations for readiness for the next wave. The evaluations are too important for Congress or for state legislatures. We need the brutal honesty of something like the Kerner Commission of the late 1960s.

Given social unrest that has flared during this time of the plague, it is good to recall the Kerner Commission not only to prove the point of this post but to highlight what it said more than fifty years ago that is tragically too close to life today.

Many, if not most, of those who read these entries might be too young to remember the commission appointed by President Johnson and headed by former Illinois Governor Otto Kerner. It was formed after disastrous racial violence in 25 cities that far exceeded anything we saw in Ferguson a few years ago or that we have seen in some cities more recently.  The commission’s final report was brutal. It warned that this country was so divided that it was on the verge of becoming two “radically unequal societies—one black, one white.”

We won’t discuss here how accurate that forecast might still be—because we are talking about a different issue that deserves the same tough examination and, if necessary, the same brutal honesty in its assessment.  There are many who think the Kerner Commission’s report, and its severe final assessment, fell on deaf ears. The assessment of what our state and nation need to do in the face of massive threats to our health and to our economy deserves the same severe approach but certainly not the same outcome.

We might need new laws and new regulations to make us better prepared in the public and the private sector for the next pandemic.  It would be unwise to dismiss such things as once-in-a-century events.  Our world has changed and is changing and it’s clear that nothing seems to be constant anymore. And we do not know if our changing world produces a climate more susceptible to new and deadly viruses.

Even now, we recognize the failure to find ways to keep rural hospitals open and the inadequacy of internet communications in many areas (that provide telehealth services, in particular) can no longer be ignored and tolerated.  We are learning that science cannot be dismissed and that those whose roles involve anticipating the next sweeping illness or the next world outbreak must regain their numbers and their status.  We are learning that our healthcare system always must be prepared, staffed, and equipped for the worst—and must not be in a position of determining who lives or dies based on personal financial standing.

We need to be ready at the state level. But pandemics have a tendency to overcome even the best state preparations and financial capabilities. A national crisis requires national leadership, national empathy, and national cooperation with states. It is unfortunately true that states can’t print money but the federal government can and money is a gigantic factor in fighting pandemics all the way down to the smallest communities.

Our experiences might teach us new things about distance learning and suggest some significant changes in our country’s elementary and secondary (and collegiate) education systems.

The economic paralysis should teach us to look more closely at a trend in jobs that we have noticed but to which we haven’t given enough attention—-the growing tendency to use independent contractors instead of having fulltime employees.  The independent contractors often get no fringe benefits and that can have some long-term impacts on retirements but especially (as in times like this) on healthcare.  The number of people who live on commissions and tips who have neither opportunities to create retirement plans nor the money to buy health insurance will grow as our economy changes and their lives should not be imperiled when our country is next ravaged by a new pandemic.

Likewise, the pandemic-caused work-from-home operations will have taught us things about large offices and the need for them.  The entire business model of large buildings for a single business, or single floors in a large building for one company might change because of what we have learned about working away from a central headquarters. The sweatshop still exists in our country but it is rare because of labor laws, fire safety codes, unions, and minimum wage laws that have curtailed those conditions.  Will the Coronavirus doom cubicle farms tomorrow?  Will is lead to a rise in union activity?

What will all of this mean in terms of society—-social gatherings, organizational memberships, business-employee relationships, civic clubs, churches?

We will be remiss if we do not anticipate tomorrow’s society based on what we are learning from today’s pandemic.

Our world is changing in so many categories—climate, economics, education, health, communications—that we cannot continue to have society as usual.

If it takes new laws and new regulations to do something as simple as making sure our healthcare institutions and services maintain adequate supplies of protective apparel, equipment and facilities for treatment,  let’s have them.

To those who would say such positions represent government overreach, there is a basic response.  Government has a role when the private sector abuses its liberties or fails its responsibilities. There is no lack of discussion in these times that such things have happened.  There also is no lack of discussion about how government, itself, has failed to meet its responsibilities to the people who entrust it with their well-being.

All of these issues and more need to be addressed so we know what will come after the virus has gone away.  That’s why new Kerner-type Commissions are needed at the state and federal levels. We are at a point in our existence where the blunt findings are needed and cannot be put on a shelf.  And we, as people, cannot be afraid to address the issues that will be forcefully put in front of us.

Here is a key point:

These commissions should not include elected officials as members.  Partisan Foxes do not belong in Pandemic Assessment Hen Houses.

We appreciate the work our public officials are trying to do in difficult times. It is time to work on the instant issue without wasting time casting blame.  But it is time also to start thinking of what comes after, and what comes after must be an unblinking hard assessment of what is present and what is needed to deal with the next health or economic or health/economic crises that will visit us. We cannot be afraid to do what is needed.

It might make no difference to our generation if we fail to act.  But other generations will sicken and die if we don’t.

The Staples Lesson

A lot of time and space is being chewed up in the media—including here—about our president’s desire to dominate the Republican Party after he leaves office.  We’ve heard, read, and seen a number of questions about why the GOP, by and large, refuses to acknowledge that the president lost on November 3.  One answer we have NOT heard suggested was explained in the Missouri Senate during the September veto session of 2002 by Danny Staples.

Senator Staples ran a canoe-rental business in Eminence, in country of Ozark Mountains, National Forests, and Scenic Riverways.  He might have been the greatest storyteller in the history of the Missouri Senate—certainly I never heard anybody better in four decades of statehouse coverage.  Some of his stories were tinged with truth.

When things got pretty testy, Staples often would get up and go off on a long, windy discussion of life in Shannon County’s Horse Hollow, his baseball career, his adventures with his horse Trixie, how he was related (by marriage) to Lady Godiva, defending cockfighting, or the days when he hauled cars from New Orleans to Omaha or something else. When Danny Staples was forced out by term limits, the Senate lost about 80% of its sense of humor.

But getting back to today’s situation in Washington, where it seems all sense of tension-relieving humor left the Capitol long ago.

For those worried about the Republicans in Congress who don’t dare speak even slightly ill of our president, we turn to a story told by Danny Staples in his farewell remarks to the Senate eighteen years ago.  Your reporter had the foresight to turn on his tape recorder to capture many Staples stories and has transcribed most of those recordings. Here’s part of his last speech to the Missouri Senate:

“…This is the greatest place in the world to try to make a living.  Sometimes the food is free.  Sometimes the beverages are free.  But I can tell you now…that I had to come up here two weeks ago on constituent services business and I went over to the Deville Hotel.  There was 18 lobbyists sitting there eating and drinking. And I’m term limited out. They know I can’t ever vote again.  And I set over in the corner, all by myself like an orphan boy at a picnic, bought my own Bud Lite and bought my own steak dinner.”

Danny died seventeen years ago, a little more than seven months after leaving the Senate.

The Deville Hotel has a different name. It no longer is a hangout for lobbyists around a restaurant table because it doesn’t have a restaurant anymore. And the Senate doesn’t have Danny Staples.

Nor does the Senate, or the House, in Washington have anyone who can step in when things get too self-important and tense, and cool things down the way Danny Staples did in the Missouri Senate.  And man-oh-man do they ever need it.

As far as why Republicans in Washington—or even the Republican candidate for the Senate in Georgia—continue to parrot Trumpian hogwash that the election was stolen from him, the answer might become more clear on January 6, 2021.

That’s the day after the two U. S. Senate elections in Georgia.  After that, our president will be considerably weaker because there will be nobody over whom he can threaten harm. Disparaging remarks on Twitter will mean far less because all elections have been decided. The control of the Senate has been determined. While he still might bark loudly, most of his harmful teeth will be gone—for at least two years. And with the passage of time (and the potential for legal difficulties that might mean more than another four-year term), his bite will be even less fearful.

Walking into a room of the powerful when you are in no position to help them or to seriously harm them will be a far different experience for our president from the days when he could walk into a room or into a Tweet before that senate election and hurt somebody.

As of January 6, it might be the president who “sets over in the corner like an orphan boy” because the people he will leave behind in the House and the Senate will have a much reduced reason to deal with him.

As far as being “relevant” within the party or whether a Trump will lead the national GOP: other people will be making a lot of decisions once our president no longer has the cover of his office to protect him and those decisions have the potential to make some decisions for the party regardless of the number of true believers the president now has when he has the power to do something for them. Sooner or later the party might recognize a need to move on and the path might be clearer when there is no sitting president blocking the view.

Regardless, both parties and   both houses of the Congress still badly need somebody such as Danny Staples to tell them to quit taking themselves so seriously that they lose sight of the broad public that believed it was electing them to serve in its interests.