By CHARLES B. CLEVELAND Chicago

FOR YEARS there was speculation among politicians and columnists on who would succeed Mayor Richard J. Daley — but all of the guesses fell wide of the mark — not surprising considering the intricacies of big city politics, but surprising in another way. The succession story often mirrored the two previous times in Chicago history when a mayor died in office.

In 1933 Mayor Anton Cermak was the victim in an attempt to assassinate President-elect Franklin D. Roosevelt. Daley left no obvious successor; nor did Cermak, but two men stood out in both cases.

Patrick A. Nash had spent a lifetime in politics. If the successor came from politics directly, Nash was the likely choice.

The other major contender was John S. Clark, father of the present Illinois Supreme Court justice. Clark, then 42, had been elected to the city council in 1917 and, 10 years later, had reached the top of that body — chairman of the finance committee which gave him power of city budgets, jobs and spending; almost — but not quite — the power of a mayor.

Precedent was with Clark. When Carter Harrison — the first mayor to die in office — was assassinated in 1893, his successor was picked from the city council and the man chosen was chairman of the finance committee, the job Clark now held. Even more important Clark had the votes —28 out of 50 members. It appeared cut-and-dried.

When party leaders met at their Morrison Hotel headquarters on the Sunday following Cermak's death, Clark made no effort to block Nash's election as county chairman. He was out after the big job and, if he won, Nash's role as party chairman would be a figurehead. Two days later the city council was scheduled to meet in special session to hear the city's attorney's opinion on how the city should handle the mayoral vacancy.

Clark decided on a daring gamble. He figured any delay would give Nash time to undermine his support; Clark found a little-known rule permitting any three city council members to call a meeting. With the help of two backers he called a meeting for 5 o'clock that afternoon, just seven hours after the meeting to hear legal opinions.

Clark took one precaution: He issued a lengthy statement to the public saying he would serve only as temporary mayor and pledged an early election (Michael Bilandic, years later, also said he would serve only as interim mayor).

The legal meeting contained a surprise. The city's attorney, William Sexton, reviewed what had happened 40 years earlier when Harrison died and the city council named one of its members as mayor. Sexton vetoed that concept and ruled the council could only call a special election. The Illinois General Assembly, then in session in Springfield, was the only body that could change that law.

This still left Clark in command; the earliest possible date for a citywide election was three months away. As acting mayor, Clark could probably meet any challenge Nash could devise. And, come 5 o'clock and the second city council meeting of the day, Clark would have his 28 votes and victory.

Nash, however, had other plans. He called a meeting for 2:30 in the afternoon of all ward committeemen, including, of course, Clark. But, while Clark and others waited in the meeting room, upstairs in a penthouse bungalow, Nash was conferring with the state's attorney and other top leaders. It was effective strategy. Clark couldn't leave the meeting room for fear Nash would arrive and outmaneuver him.

At the penthouse meeting Nash pulled a sleight-of-hand. He recommended the party pick an acting mayor — Frank J. Corr, a likeable but pliable alderman. Nash went into the meeting with a signed letter of resignation from Corr already in his pocket, a kind of political insurance against any slipup.

Meanwhile an old Republican friend of Nash's, Roy O. West, had swung some Republicans; pressure won others; there were persistent, but unproved, charges that money was spent to influence votes. Whatever the reason, Clark no longer had 28 votes; where once he had 10 Democrats now he had five; once he had 18 Republicans and one Independent, on roll call he had 11— and Corr was acting mayor.

Still the battle wasn't over. There was; still the matter of a popular election, but Nash had an answer for that too. There was a bill pending in Springfield to fill the vacancy for probate judge - a vacancy caused when Henry Horner left the bench to run, and win, for governor. On the day Corr was named acting mayor, Democratic Floor Leader Benjamin S. Adamowski (later elected state's attorney as a Republican) introduced an amendment to the Horner vacancy bill to permit the city council to choose the mayor, either from its own ranks or from outside as it saw fit.

This meant no election at all for two years. Clark had no power in Springfield; Republicans tried to exploit the situation, but in vain. Newspapers and civic groups supported the change. Chicago, like the rest of the nation, was in the depths of a major depression and on the verge of bankruptcy.

Now the decision reverted to the city council and there was widespread speculation Nash himself would take the job. But Pat Nash had one more surprise up his sleeve: Edward Joseph Kelly.

Continued next month

30 / May 1977 / Illinois Issues