Memories die hard

As I write this column, it's early March and I and my family are eagerly awaiting the arrival of one of our favorite events — St. Patrick's Day. Thoughts of parades, shamrocks, corned beef and green beer intertwine with the historic rituals and traditions that make this day the superbowl of ethnic celebrations. Indeed, everyone is a little bit Irish on St. Patrick's Day.

I still vividly remember seeing my first St. Patrick's Day parade in Chicago. My grandfather brought me downtown on a blustery March 17th to see the floats, the Chicago River turn green and to see all the politicians and marchers full of good cheer waving and smiling to the crowd. Yet, the true highlight of the parade centered on the appearance of one man who led all the participants down State Street — Mayor Richard J. Daley.

I can still hear the crowd murmur as he approached waving his shillelagh: "Here comes himself, the mayor." To me Daley was and always will be the person I most associate with the grand events of St. Patrick's Day; a little boy's memories are tough to forget.

It's been only a little over 11 years since Daley passed from the Chicago political scene leaving a grieving city constitutency, many of whom thought "Mayor" was Daley's first name. Yet, if Daley could somehow magically return to see his beloved city, he would have a hard time believing some of the changes.

• Governmentally. The three most critical public administration posts in town — mayor, police superintendent and school superintendent — are all held by blacks. When Daley died, all three of these positions were held by Irishmen.
• Politically. Longtime Daley foe, the Rev. Jesse Jackson, is running for president with solid support from inner-city black wards that traditionally had been the backbone of the mayor's machine. More perplexing to Daley would be the dual spectacle of longtime ethnic Democrats like Ed Vrdolyak and Bernie Stone switching over to the Republican party while his son, Cook County State's Atty. Richard M. Daley, becomes more and more the darling of suburban voters.
• Demographically. Chicago has shifted from being a multi-ethnic to a multi-racial city. What probably would astound Daley the most is not the movement of blacks, Hispanics and Asians to his city but the phenomenon of "Yuppie" getrification. These upwardly mobile white professionals have colonized areas that formerly were home to working-class and middle-class supporters of Daley loyalists, Paddy Bauler, Charlie Weber and Joe Gill. Political organization building in these communities has shifted from the ward office to the health club, and candidates court voters in local restaurants by purchasing "a round of carbonated water" for the house.
• Recreationally. Chicago's major sports teams — the Bears, White Sox and Cubs — are demanding that city fathers provide them major economic and political concessions as they threaten to move their franchises out of town. This old tactic would not shock Daley, but what would startle the mayor is that the city council committee holding hearings on whether to allow lights at Wrigley Field (so that Cubs can play night games) is being chaired by former Black Panther leader and now 2nd Ward Ald. Bobby Rush.

But wait! Just as Chicago's St. Patrick's Day parade remains basically the same event with new faces, so do many of the issues affecting the city of Chicago since the death of Daley.

On the day Daley died, Chicago Board of Education Supt. Joseph Hannon

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announced a proposed school budget cut of $57 million to avert an early school closing the following spring. Then, as now, Chicago public school administrators were facing a money crunch and were looking to the legislature in Springfield to extricate them from a pending budget deficit.

On the day Daley died, medical and health administration experts were debating the need for a new Cook County hospital. At issue was the size and location of a new hospital, the funding for staff salaries and how the county was going to pay for the new facility. This issue remains unresolved.

On the day Daley died, Chicago Tribune's muckraking columnist Jack Mabley praised the mayor for personally intervening in a squabble over an O'Hare airport parking contract. Then, as now, Chicagoans look to the mayor as the mediator to facilitate problems over governmental/private contracts — be it job opportunities or limiting profits.

The list goes on. A returning Mayor Daley might need a scorecard to learn the names and numbers of the new players, but he would need little help recognizing the governmental and political obstacles blocking Chicago from implementing its game plan.

What is most ironic is that since Daley's death the unrelenting political battles in Chicago have been over "who governs" and not "what government" can do to solve long-standing or even worsening citywide issues. The price of bi-racial power politics has been a deferment of critical decisions on topics like new jobs, more housing and better schools. Thus, St. Patrick's Day without Daley may be a blessing, for with all of his faults he was the man in charge whether it was the city government or a parade. Today Daley would no longer reflect the demographics of the new Chicago, yet it is a take-charge mayor that the city needs to push solutions of its unsolved problems. Daley's era is over. Revisionists now point to holes in his leadership and his claim that Chicago was "the city that worked." For most of his 21 years in office, however, the voters believed him, the New York bond houses believed him and the national politicians believed him. And a little boy holding his grandpa's hand watching "hizzoner" lead a wondrous parade believed him. Memories die hard.

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