Political bosses weren’t so bad
In March 1936 — a long time ago — a Common Pleas Court judge by the name of Horatio Dumbauld addressed a letter to state Secretary of the Commonwealth David L. Lawrence.
Judge Dumbauld more or less ran Democratic politics in Fayette County in those days. Lawrence was in charge of political patronage for the state’s Democratic administration.
“I have just addressed a letter to (the) Secretary of Mines strongly recommending the appointment of W.T. McGee, of our town, to the vacant position of Inspector of Mines,” Dumbauld of Uniontown told Lawrence of Pittsburgh.
“Mr. McGee has long been eligible to an appointment of this character, is one of our boys, and I want you to go to bat for him with … the Governor.”
Simultaneous with being a member of Gov. Earle’s cabinet, Lawrence was party chair in Allegheny County. In that capacity, he answered a letter from Dumbauld about a job for a Mr. Lohm, apparently from Mt. Lebanon.
“We have a policy here of never interfering with the local ward, borough or township committees on the matter of patronage,” Lawrence wrote. In other words, Dumbauld should not be surprised if Lohm’s job search came up short.
In May 1936, the local congressman, J. Buell Snyder, phoned Lawrence about the chairmanship of the Fayette County Democratic party.
As Snyder subsequently told Dumbauld, “I … suggested … that it was up to him to line Ferd Swaney up to go with us. I suggest you call him immediately and tell him the same. He promised me he would, but then you must jag him up.”
These are but small samples of the making of a political boss, in another era, of course. Lawrence was familiar with the give-and-take of politics as it was practiced throughout much of U.S. political history.
If Lawrence, who went on to be elected mayor of Pittsburgh and then governor in 1958, were alive today he wouldn’t know what to make of patronage-less politics or of weak parties and suspenseless conventions.
He personified the best of boss rule. His way worked just fine. In the 20th century alone, Lawrence and others like him gave the nation Franklin Roosevelt, Harry Truman and John Kennedy.
As told by Jeff Greenfield in “Politico,” Lawrence played a decisive role in steering the Democratic vice presidential nomination to Truman in 1944. As chairman of the convention held in Philadelphia, Lawrence shut down the balloting just as delegates were on the verge of nominating Henry Wallace to the second spot on the ticket with a very ill FDR.
Acting in concert with other party bosses, Lawrence helped secure Truman’s nomination the next day. As party leaders sensed, Roosevelt was not likely to live out his term. In choosing Truman, Lawrence and the other bosses knew they were selecting a chief executive, according to Greenfield. Wallace was unacceptable, Truman was not. Truman became president in the spring of 1945.
Sixteen years later, Lawrence put the finishing touch on Kennedy’s nomination for president. Early in 1960, Lawrence, a Catholic, resisted the candidacy of the Catholic Kennedy. He was old enough to remember the shellacking administered by Herbert Hoover to the Democratic nominee for president in 1928, New York’s Roman Catholic governor, Al Smith.
But Kennedy demonstrated overwhelming strength in the primaries in 1960. Lawrence threw the support of the Pennsylvania delegation to Kennedy literally on the eve of the Los Angeles convention.
Time Magazine reported a grinning JFK emerged from a meeting with Lawrence. “Whispered a Kennedy man … ‘We have it. That’s the ballgame.'”
Lawrence then turned to the task of selecting Lyndon Johnson vice president. He placed LBJ’s name in nomination. The Kennedy-Johnson ticket was shepherded through the raucous convention by none other David L. Lawrence.
So remember, while watching the Republican and Democratic conventions the next two weeks, at one time it was done differently, and maybe better, by men like Davey Lawrence. For all their faults, and they had many, political bosses frequently played the role of adults in a roomful of squabbling politicians.
Richard Robbins lives in Uniontown and is the author of two books: “Grand Salute: Stories of the World War II Generation” and “Our People.” He can be reached at grandsalutebook@gmail.com.