Legislative Action

By DIANE ROSS

So long to the lame ducks

THE CARTOONISTS had a field day. Once the legislative elections were over, the familiar Daffy Duck figure popped up on one editorial page after another, leg in a cast, wing in a sling, Band-Aid on the beak.

There were 78 lawmakers who had known they were lame ducks since the primaries — they either chose not to run or didn't survive the primary. But there were another 27 who didn't know until they woke up (or went to bed) Wednesday morning, November 3. (A few had to wait a whole week to be sure.) By the time the veto session convened November 17, nearly half of Illinois' legislators — 105 of its 236 — had come back to Springfield to fill lame duck seats (14 of the 105 will return in January as 13 "new" senators and one representative). Of course cutting back the House accounted for 59 of the lame ducks, but it was the combination of the Democratic remap and the Democratic landslide that explained why so many were Republicans.

Whom have we lost? In the House most of the Republican leadership is gone. Of the nine current Republican leaders, only two survived the remap wars: Lee Daniels of Elmhurst, a majority whip, and Dwight Friedrich of Centralia, caucus chairman. (At this late November writing, Daniels was still the front-runner for the next minority leader.)

Of course Speaker George Ryan of Kankakee had taken the statewide field this year and played a far different role than in the last campaign. In 1980, Ryan was the commander-in-chief of the Republican legislative forces; his troops made him the speaker. In 1982 Ryan seemed to be reduced to an aide-de-camp for the Thompson team though he was his running mate as lieutenant governor.

Ben Polk of Moline, another majority whip, won in the primary, but later withdrew from the field, preferring the relative safety of civilian life in the executive branch. The remap simply left two Chicago Republicans — Art Telcser, Ryan's majority leader, and Pete Peters, an assistant majority leader — without districts.

But two Republican assistant House leaders fell to Democrats in hand-to-hand, incumbent-versus-incumbent battles. Phil Collins of Calumet City lost to Frank Giglio, also of Calumet City, in the suburban Cook County 77th; and Elmer Conti of Elmwood lost to Larry DiPrima of Chicago in the Chicago 16th. Cissy Stiehl of Belleville, the only Republican woman assistant majority leader, chose to fight for a seat in the Senate. She lost to Democrat incumbent Sen. Kenny Hall of East St. Louis in the downstate Senate 57th.

House Democrats suffered only one surprise casualty among their leadership, but it was a stunning loss. Minority Leader Mike Madigan of Chicago and the presumed next speaker of the House, had fully expected to make Mike McClain of Quincy his majority leader. McClain, like Collins and Conti, fell in a one-on-one incumbent contest: Republican Jeff Mays of Quincy beat him in the downstate 96th. Of the six other Democratic leaders, three will return: "Zeke" Giorgi of Rockford as an assistant leader, Jim McPike of Alton as whip, and Alan Greiman of Skokie as caucus chairman.

Presumably Madigan has lined up replacements for the two assistant minority leaders who captured Senate seats in Chicago: Teddy Lechowicz, who often sat in the chair when Bill Redmond was speaker, and Emil Jones, the highest ranking black in the House. Eugenia Chapman of Arlington Heights, a minority whip (second highest ranking woman in the House), tried for Congress but lost in the 10th district.

In the Senate, leadership on both sides of the aisle remained nearly intact.

January 1983 | Illinois Issues | 33

Phil Rock, who is expected to win reelection as Senate president, needed to replace only assistant majority leader Jim Donnewald of Breese, who was elected state treasurer. Pate Philip, equally assured of reelection as minority leader, has only to replace his caucus chairman, Frank Ozinga of Evergreen Park, who decided not to run.

The lame ducks still had a role to play in defusing the latest state cash flow crisis in December. But none of them will have a voice in the expected political firestorm over reforming the state's tax structure in 1983. There's no way to credit all the legislators we're losing. People like Bernie Epton, a nationally recognized authority on insurance. Or Doug Kane with his doctorate in economics. The list of lost experts is too long. It's also hard to do justice to the most colorful personalities who have made those long June nights bearable. Here's a few of the moments we'll remember.

Who can forget the gruff George Ryan trading "Gang of Four" quips with a leprechaunish Mike Madigan? Or Art Telcser losing his temper at the last meeting of the legislative remap commission? What about Pete Peters' "mad-as-hell" speech, one of his best, the day the ERA "chain gang" staged a sit-in and forced the House to adjourn in chaos? Or Jim Kelley "stepping" on one of the chainers?

Who'll forget Phil Collins, forever florid, often outraged, but always able to crack the jokes that snapped the tension at just the right moment?

Reporters will have to learn a whole new set of signals that mean the Chicago Democrats are about to pull one of those notorious fast-gavel numbers. For years, the mere sound of Teddy Lechowicz, intoning the litany of the chair with lethal rapidity — "Haveall-votedwhowish? Haveallvotedwho-wish?" — was enough to send reporters scrambling from the press room to the press box. We'll miss the chance to see Mike McClain come into his own.

What will we do without Don Deuster whose one seersucker jacket outlasted all those lime green leisure suits? Or Susan Catania who juggled the rearing of daughters with the rising in debate? Harry Leinenweber and his crossword puzzles? Craig Findley and his bow ties? Clyde Robbins and his "Deli" with bananas, Twinkies, hamon-rye? His southern-twanged "Mr. Speaker! Mr. Speaker!" His barechested entry in the "Mr. Wonderful Contest."

Nord Swanstrom may have brought down the wrath of the pro-ERA-ers when he exposed the business-card bribery of Wanda Brandstetter, but there was one late night, actually the wee hours of the morning, when he led the House in a rollicking rendition of "Happy Birthday" to Webber Borchers. How can we forget the year Betty Hoxsey sponsored the anti-cult bill and the "moonies" picketed the rotunda?

What will we do without Ron Stearney and his foot-long cigars? Stearney, whose attempt, years ago, to show a kiddie porn movie during a meeting of Harold Katz' judiciary committee still gets roars of laughter when anyone mentions it.

What will we do without Harold Katz?

Without Glenn Schneider, who'll wear the turtleneck sweaters, the flannel work shirts, the corduroy jackets? Who's left to give the kind of impassioned yet ominous speech Monica Faith Stewart did on the day the House last voted on the ill-fated ERA? Who's left to denounce the pro-ERA-ers as "braless, brainless broads" now that Tommy Hanahan's gone?

Doug Kane will never rush the podium again nor will Mark Rhoads slug another Democrat. And there could never be another C.L. McCormick, whose down-home style of oratory is so legendary that when he was out of office his peers have delivered it in proxy, vying for the honor of impersonation.

There is hope. Dawn Clark Netsch of the dramatically modulated voice, piercing over-her-glasses' look and chic cigarette holder is still in the Senate. So is LeRoy Lemke, whose passion remains anti-abortion legislation. Vince Demuzio. Charlie Chew. John D'Arco. John Grotberg, who's been known to sing a mean "Navy Hymn." And John Cullerton, perhaps the master impersonator, is still in the House, to recapture the spirit of former members.□

January 1983 | Illinois Issues | 34