My Husband Was Elected

by THE MAYOR’S WIFE

1

MY HUSBAND has been a reform Mayor for over three years now. During that period countless women have said to me, “It must be fun to be the Mayor’s wife.” My stock answer is: “Yes, it is fun. Why doesn’t your husband run for Mayor next term?” Invariably the lady shows symptoms of shock. She enumerates the reasons he can’t run. He’s too busy building up his business or profession. She wouldn’t like to sit alone at home while he presided over city meetings or civic functions. They would have to forgo most of their social life together.

The lady is right on all counts but one. “Fun" hardly describes the duties and life of a Mayor’s wife. Her husband must necessarily neglect his business. He must eliminate most of his personal social life. He must attend countless civic functions.

Women are apt to make that remark about its being fun to be the Mayor’s wife when they see one dressed in her best gown and with a prominent seat at some outstanding civic function. That they may envy. But they want no part in the rest of it. They forget one point of primary importance. The only way to have an efficient and well-run city is to have the very best men run it. It is my contention that the women, by withholding their consent, forbid the participation of their men in this most important area of politics. They forget that this is truly “government of the people, by the people,” and that voluntary sacrifice of time and money is necessary to make our system work. If the best men and women won’t step forward and seek public office, the second-raters will. Haven’t you often puzzled over your election ballot, knowing there was no choice of candidate worthy of the office? Have you ever seen a blank spot on that ballot ?

What does it mean to be the Mayor’s wife? I started out this way. The day following my husband’s public announcement of his candidacy, the first anonymous letter arrived, attacking me and my children. I had the good sense to call a friend who had been active in politics for a long time. She is the recipient of many such letters. She cheerfully told me always to read my unsigned mail for information, then tear it up and forget it. “You have now joined distinguished company,” she said. “You’re in the ring with the lions and tigers. Because they are wild beasts you’d better stick with this until they’re vanquished.”

The letters still come. They no longer bother me. Sometimes valuable bits of information are disclosed. Some are from crackpots. The majority come from the machine politicians who don’t want any interference in their control of the city. These letters serve as warning to the good men in the community they’d be better off not to run for office. Intimidation of the wife and family of a public official often makes a man quit. He can stand the gaff himself but won’t subject his family to such browbeating. My husband has never known about those letters. Being a careful, stubborn sort of woman, I ask myself why shouldn’t my conscientious husband take part in local affairs. Are the stakes so high that the opposition will stoop to such methods to make us retire from the fight? My answer is to toss the nasty things in the wastebasket, glue a smile on my face, and say to the next woman who asks, “Yes, it’s fun to be the Mayor’s wife.”

Another drawback is a personal one. My children were shocked when they found me telephoning my husband’s secretary to secure a dinner date with him two weeks ahead. Fortunately, we’ve never been too interested in society as such. Our social life was largely a meeting with close friends, but now we must confine ourselves to a hasty hello and good-by to people we should like to see in leisurely fashion. Home life becomes almost nonexistent. Seeing Daddy’s picture in the paper doesn’t compensate for not having him around. Reading his speeches doesn’t help with family problems. You realize, as time passes, that your husband hasn’t had a meal at home in weeks. Gone are the days when the next-door neighbors can be invited in at will. If there is a free evening, the Mayor is too tired to go anywhere. Or he has to prepare a speech. Or a statement for the papers.

Often when he isn’t home for dinner, you must accompany him to city functions. You have the seat next to the guest of honor for the evening. But the dinner lasts an hour, the speeches three. Add to that receptions, teas, luncheons. Add, too, your special part in civic affairs, selecting or crowning Queens of this and that, judging essays, speaking to women’s clubs, giving the greetings of the city when the Mayor cannot attend. This particular hurdle of being the wife of a public official doesn’t bother me. I like to mix with people. I’m the sort of woman who has her hat permanently on her head, ready to go at a minute’s notice.

Another hurdle you encounter is phone calls. Until my husband took office, I hadn’t known the close relationship between the individual and city officials. It would never have occurred to me to call on the Mayor for assistance. But others do. Let me stress that the phone calls are to me the greatest expression of the democratic method. I glory in them. Where else in the world can a citizen feel that his affairs are of primary importance to the Mayor of his city? If a caller has a complaint, you carefully take down all the details and pass it on to the proper authority. Some callers refuse to give their names. You say sweetly, “I’m so sorry. I don’t talk to anonymous callers. If you don’t identify yourself I’ll hang up.” Then you do hang up. Sometimes the calls are humorous. A belligerent wants to know, at 6 A.M., why his street hasn’t been cleared of snow. Another suggests that the Mayor dash right over and chase a stray dog from his premises. Still another (not my favorite) tells me my husband is running around with another woman.

The most difficult thing about the incessant phone calls is training the children to handle them competently. They’ve always thought their father the finest man in the world. It dismays them to answer the phone politely and listen to attacks on his character. You explain it something like this. “One of the unique and fine things about the American system is the relationship between all segments of our society. That means that every person in the country feels just as important as the next fellow. He is, too. He feels he can call any elected official and complain to him. You must sift the obviously hostile nuisance caller from the person who has a legitimate message. In so doing and in aiding the people, you are taking part in a purely democratic process not seen in many parts of the world.”

Tell them the pitiful stories brought to your attention. Of the Negro woman, alone and frightened, needing assistance during the night from a brutish caller. She had called the police and they had laughed at her complaint. You called the police again, got the name of the officer in charge, and asked that a full report be on the Mayor’s desk in the morning. You tell them their father investigates every complaint and sees that it is fairly settled. Add the nice things, too. Of the morning you drove their father to the train. A workman came along and slopped him, saying, “Where are you going, Mayor? Don’t stay away too long. We need you here.”

With all the force you have, you must reiterate the fact that the freedom the public enjoys under our system far outweighs any disagreeable experiences you may have. Your children will then take the same pride that you do in being part of that pattern.

2

MY ONLY object in pointing out problems encountered as a Mayor’s wife is to emphasize that most of the trials come because the majority of the good men in the community are not willing to hold office, even though, in doing so, they would preserve our form of government. And the reason they won’t take a personal part lies largely in the lack of coöperation from their wives.

This is not to say that thousands of women do not form a great force for good government. Indeed, they are the basis and strength of any reform movement, as our family can personally testify. Women are natural reformers. They join and further the cause of many committees and councils. They contribute magnificently to philanthropic causes. American cities and towns would be barren and unprogressive without their ardent support. Thirty million women in the United States are organized into clubs of various sorts. More belong to unofficial groups. All of them have an aim and a purpose. But women must do more. They could, with their power, handily control every local election by bringing the weight of their house-cleaning methods to clear up the hearthsides of our cities.

It’s a strange paradox that while women were the most avid watchers of the exposure of crime and corruption during the Kefauver TV hearings, they can ignore such conditions in their own back yard. Enthusiastically they crusaded with Eisenhower, who publicly stated that more women than men voted for him. Yet they do not thoroughly enter into the local fight for good government. Visiting lecturers discussing the dictatorship methods in foreign countries find them rapt audiences. They can do nothing about conditions abroad, but they could be most effective in their own cities.

An old-fashioned slang expression was “Let George do it.” It meant a shifting of responsibility to the other fellow. That’s what largely occurs in city government. Letting George do it in politics always results in an unsavory situation. Our own town, beautiful on the surface, has some nasty and seamy undersides. For too long the good people neglected to peer into the City Hall. When they finally became aware of the unscrupulous actions of the twenty-year-old political machine, they boiled into a revolution and swept the present reform administration into power. A large part of the credit goes to the few women who worked — and are still working — to maintain it.

But the history of reform governments in our cities shows they last only one term. When apathy sets in, “George” comes back and takes over. Our reform administration is in its second term. It has endured the most virulent opposition from those ousted from office. Just recently, when a discredited former public official was asked about his campaign to regain power, he grinned and said, “I need only wait.” There’s too much truth in his statement. He will regain power certainly if there is no one with fortitude to take the constant needling and vilification the present administration endures. The good people can never rest on their laurels. They may feel they have elected a competent man and can safely leave matters in his hands. But he needs relief after a few terms, and needs to know that he will be succeeded by a man of similar ideals who will not destroy what is good in his program.

Politics is a constant battle. A reform Mayor must sweep out the grafters and install a businesslike method of doing things, not based on patronage. He must spend about 70 per cent of his time selling his program to the electorate. His two-year term of office is not long enough to get his program under way, let alone bring it to fruition.

A Mayor’s wife often asks herself if the battle — the mudslinging, the anonymous letters, and all the other bitter things she must endure — is worth the effort. This Mayor’s wife feels that the American form of government is more than worth it. That system is the finest in the world, created for and carried out by free men. I’m convinced that good government starts on the local level. You don’t grow corrupt political machines out of thin air. You just neglect your city and let “George” take over. Given enough time, the machine spreads and strengthens itself into an unbeatable combination. Those local machines train the men who tomorrow are the state and national leaders. For that reason local officials must be the very best men and women in a community, able and incorruptible.

Those 30 million organized women need to turn an eye and an ear toward what goes on in their own communities. It’s an exciting experience. Attend the meetings of your Council. I know of one group of women who tried this in a near-by town. They were grossly insulted at their first appearance, where the officials huddled together around a table and talked in whispers. The women came back to the next meeting. The men greeted them and spoke loud enough for them to hear the matters under discussion. At the third meeting a loud-speaker had been installed and printed copies of the agenda were handed out. This year a woman is a member of that official body. My husband contends that the presence of even five public-spirited women at every board and committee meeting concerned with city business would improve conditions of government so radically that no machine boss would ever gain control. Graft and corruption can’t flourish under the scrutiny of the citizens. Only lack of attention will let such things occur.

Not only could women control local situations by their presence at civic business meetings: they have a duty to encourage their husbands to participate actively in politics. Instead of worshiping the dead Fathers of our Country, they could mold tomorrow’s statesmen. They should realize that it is in their power to change and improve the political setup. What politicians do concerns everyone. If a spoils system is in operation, taxes are too high and Mother gets less for her budget. If the not-so-wise hold public office, blunders in decisions can take her husband and children into a war they might not survive.

Women must also train their sons and daughters to take their turn at public affairs. We are all thrilled when Son says he is going to be a doctor or a lawyer or follow some other honored profession. When he says he wants to run for public office we squash him completely. “Don’t get mixed up in that,” we say. “There’s no thanks to it, and unless you’re crooked, no profit.” This is a negation of our entire history, of the services of our long line of distinguished public servants. Fathers and mothers should teach their children that they are expected to pay the debt of citizenship and loyalty to their country by giving at least a few of their years to public service.

My favorite politician is John Adams, Old Sinkor-Swim Adams, second President of the United States. Remember that he was always whining to his wife Abigail because he wasn’t getting ahead materially in the world? He longed to build a fortune to hand down to his children, but he spent so much time on the affairs of the Sons of Liberty, and later the Congress, that he earned only a modest income for many years. He hated the time spent away from his family while he wrestled with the problems of petitions, war, and the drafting of the Declaration of Independence. He complained constantly about the onerous duties he performed. Still, his sense of duty compelled him to forgo fortune and comfort for the Republic. Later he garnered all the honors a grateful country could bestow on him. Most important of all, he set up in his family such an example of duty that every successive generation of Adamses has served the government in one capacity or another.

Women bear and produce the men. Why don’t they produce the statesmen?