Write a commentOld men love to tell stories. I know that because I am gradually becoming an old man, and find myself of late rambling on with stories and pithy sayings that I think make an important point. And hopefully, it is true that the older you get, the wiser you get.
You are certainly more compelled to share that wisdom with others before that forewarning the priest gives when rubbing ashes on your forehead on Ash Wednesday comes true. “Remember man that thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return.” So, on the way to the dust bin, it becomes more and more important to get those stories and aphorisms out to as wide an audience as possible.
For me, much of the wisdom I have grown to possess is related to government and politics. I have spent a lifetime honing my political antennae, and crafting the right message. I remember, as a young man, how frustrated I would get at times in conversing with my mentor, John O”C. Conway, who was always reluctant to act before thoroughly thinking things through, and often waiting to see if things would solve themselves. I used to kid John that if his wastebasket caught fire under his seat, he would simply muse that it was getting a bit warm in here, while I would have already been rushing down the hall to pull the nearest fire alarm. Sometimes, waiting, and not immediately reacting, is just the wise thing to do.
So, when I taught at the college level, I took to instructing my young charges on several points. First, knowing when to step in and try to control matters and when to benignly neglect fashioning a remedy to a situation which may best be left to work itself out on its own, is a crucial test of leadership. As I often told my students, Kenny Rogers is a wise political philosopher. You do have to “know when to hold 'em when to fold 'em, when to walk away, and ultimately when to run”. Good politicians fine tune these instincts, and learn from their misadventures.
I remember a meeting I called with several disgruntled alderman in the Mayor's conference room one Saturday morning, when a certain long time alderman (who shall remain nameless) came in with a wooden coat hanger banging it on all the chairs in the conference room, shouting epithets at me for invading the alderman’s territory. “Mrs. Kelly's tree is none of your g****mn business, he said, stay out of our f***ng business!” He meant it. He also appeared to be very hung over, and it was an opportunity for him to act out his true sentiments, without having to behave in front of the tv cameras which chronicled all of the antics at the public council meetings. He worked lots better out of the limelight.
The Aldermen had their own set of constituent specific concerns, and they were, as dictated by the Charter, in charge of the property and fiscal affairs of the city. I was charged with proposing the budget and administering the city government, and setting the overall tone, however the aldermen were in charge of curb cuts, street paving, tree removal, sidewalk repairs and installation, and the like, or at least that’s what they thought. They were also very interested when it came to purchasing large pieces of heavy equipment as the Equipment vendors were known to distribute football tickets, and to take aldermen on junkets, occasionally, etc. One alderman, who was actually very supportive of my administration, seldom spoke out on anything, unless it involved the purchase of a backhoe. They also favored one particular contractor and one particular engineering firm, and I became the bane of their existence when I demanded equal treatment for all vendors and contractors, and took actions to insure that was the case. I did not make myself popular with several of the Aldermen who were used to getting their own way. In effect, I said, “I’m driving this bus”, and they didn’t like it, but I drove the bus anyway.
My Executive Assistant, Eli Rapaport, capably assisted me in driving that bus. Eli, as it turns out, is Neil Diamond’s first cousin. (but that’s another whole story). I had known Eli, who hailed from Brooklyn, casually as a co-freshman at SUNY Oswego, and when it came time for me to run for mayor, he was out of work at the time, having recently been divorced from his wife for whose father’s business he had worked, but was no longer employed, and so he had some time on his hands, Eli was a very good manager. He managed the campaign, and then managed the mayor’s office on a full time basis for me. We got along very well, and he was never a “yes man”. He would always speak up when he felt the need to, and I appreciated that very much.
I have often told the story of how Eli and I worked out a system to handle meetings at which leadership would be put to a test. Eli always sat at my right side, so that he could literally give me a kick in the shins if he thought I was going off on the wrong tangent, or getting too puffed up about something, which I was sometimes prone to do. When he did that, and he did do that on several occasions, I would excuse myself from the conference room to “take a call” and Eli would follow me out of the room, and take me into the hall and say. “Are your crazy? Do you really want to do this? or take this position? “Hmmm”, I would think, and then we would go back into the room, and more often than not, I would say, “ Now, on the other hand....”
Eli Rapaport went on to become Water Superintendent under Mayor Terry Hammill. He then left government to manage a family medical practice for Dr. Corliss Varnum, a position from which he retired last year. He and his wife Judy Coe Rapaport have been very active in the Safe Haven Museum and Fort Ontario National Park project, and recently relocated in their retirement to Venice, Florida.
Eli was a savvy manager, able assistant, and has become a lifelong good friend. He also learned to grow a very sharp set of political antennae. I would often lecture him, saying that few things happen spontaneously. In politics, things usually happen for a reason, and the key thing is to figure out who is driving what agenda, and why. He was a quick study.
In short, every good political and governmental leader needs an Eli, a trusted staff person who will give you the straight talk you need to maintain balance. Otherwise, you wind up being absorbed in your own bubble. It’s easy enough to do. You walk in City Hall and someone stops you and says, “Hey Mayor, you look great! Losing weight?” (And by the way, my cousin needs a job). It is all too easy to be swept up in the ego assuaging world of mayoral aggrandizement. It happens to the best of us. Even to those seeking national office.
That is why speaking truth to power is an important thing. Somebody has to tell the emperor on occasion that he is really out there in the buff, and that being buck naked in public is usually not a good thing. Thanks Eli, for your valuable service. Oswego is the better for it.
