There is some joy in Mudville, as Bobby Casey Jr. has struck out. And now it is our chance at the plate. How long has it been since Philadelphia had its due representation in the Governor's Mansion? 1914 -- much too long, when one considers the reality that Philly has forever been the greatest attraction of the Quaker State. It was from between the Schuykill and the Delaware that our nation was born. Don't forget our predominance of history, culture and business in the commonwealth. We have the cheesesteak, the Big Five, Independence Hall and the Mutter Museum. They have Iron City Beer and the Andy Warhol Museum, but that's about as popular in Pittsburgh as, well, Pittsburgh is to the rest of the country. So why is it that the land of "you'ze guys" nearly always loses to Western PA?
The old adage goes that Pennsylvania is Pittsburgh on one side, Philadelphia on the other and Alabama in between. Alabama nearly always votes Republican. Pittsburgh aligns with them and Philadelphia is held at bay. As evidence, look at the utter disregard shown to the Delaware Valley by the defeated Junior Casey. But, the real reason Philadelphia has been the Danny Bonaducci of Pa. politics is the puppeteer that controlled Casey's strings. You can see him from here to Erie, bustling through the halls of Harrisburg, glad-handing union bosses and sparkling smiles at powerful people.
Pennsylvania Senator Vincent Fumo never misses a photo opportunity and is always willing to swap a few votes for the benefit of his patronage machine.
Vince is known to most citizens as a shoot from your hip, straight-talking guy. To his credit, the senator has given us many delicious sound bites. Just don't ask him about the Spring Garden CDC (Community Development Corporation) and his wealthy cronies that received millions in state monies for Spring Garden's re-gentrification. During the funding, Fumo was the minority chair on the Senate Appropriations Committee (SAC). It's no surprise that the listed address of the CDC was the home of fellow SAC employee and attorney, Patricia Freeland, who also works out of Fumo's South Philadelphia office. Would you believe the two live within blocks of each other in the Spring Garden area?
Granted, Fumo and his crew weren't the first to dream of an affluent Spring Garden. But now, mysteriously, there seem to be no more properties available to average citizens. Even the crumbling brick rowhouses are spoken for by the secretive CDC, presumably waiting for further subsidies. Fumo is literally adding real estate to his senatorial fiefdom.
It is a kingdom in which he wants no encroachments. Instead of supporting a candidate that would bring much needed attention to Philadelphia, Fumo is keenly aware that sunshine is the best disinfectant.
The more light on our city, the greater the chance of finding what creatures lurk in the shadows. So Fumo gathered his labor pals and decided to push the progeny of former Governor Robert Casey Sr. to the next Governor's mansion. Fumo was certain that Bobby Junior's name would carry him like Teddy Kennedy through a case of scotch. Ironically, the same strategy was used to no avail against Casey Sr. in 1986, by a young Bill Scranton III.
I suppose the saying's true -- those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it.
Before the election, on 610 WIP, Fumo made a curious last gasp attempt to bolster the young Casey and lambaste his opponent Rendell. When asked if he thought Casey would suffer for using so many inflammatory negative ads, Fumo responded with a disaffected chuckle. He went on to say that, "The people don't speak," and brought some accusations against Rendell, most notably claiming that Ed had run twice as many negative ads as Casey. Aside from his ludicrous ad tallying, Fumo was wrong on many fronts. The people did speak. They spoke the name of Ed Rendell to the tune of 56%.
Fumo was wrong to trust the forces of chicanery and closed-door meetings over the charisma of a beloved political pro. Casey dodged debates and threw the cold shoulder to Philadelphia, while Rendell shook hands in Rittenhouse Square, toasted supporters on Columbus Boulevard and plead his case in State College, Harrisburg and other ports west. By attacking Rendell, Casey made him a more sympathetic hero.
The Casey machine tried to take Pennsylvania back a few steps by making the primary election a battle of insults. Obviously, it was not in Casey's interest to highlight the fact that the extent of his administrative experience was overseeing 150 employees. Rendell was the chief executive of 25,000 city workers and successfully accomplished this feat in a city known for its unending management obstacles.
Now it's time for the Delaware Valley to get the credit it has long deserved. Rendell may be a bit of a rogue, but he is our rogue and he is determined to level the playing field for our city in state concerns. Hopefully, come the winter, after the people of Pennsylvania have spoken again, Philadelphians will be able to look to Harrisburg for a leader for both the state and the city, our very own Ed Rendell.
