Purpose, Power and Prison: Stories About Former Illinois Governors

By Robert E. Hartley

What happened to the 11 men who served as governor of Illinois from 1933 to 2003? That is what this book is about. Each life is traced from highlights and lowlights in office to the day the music stopped and life played out as a former governor. Most of them would have preferred to continue serving as the state’s chief executive. But that wasn’t an option. Each man faced the challenges of a new life. Some performed well, some did not. The eleven are a mixed bag of personalities, ambitions and attempts at further glory. Their stories offer a rich assortment of adventures ranging from failure to success, from further political involvement to heroic legal battles, and efforts to earn their way. Yes, stories of three who went to prison, Kerner, Walker and Ryan, are included. For the first time in print, the rest of the story is available.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781796084504

Robert E. Hartley

Robert Hartley has written eleven published books about IIIinois politics and history. The Illinois State Historical Society honored seven with Certificates of Achievement. Another was chosen as the centerpiece book for the state's Lewis and Clark bicentennial celebration. He has written a dozen articles for the Journal of lllinois History and has given talks on political history across the state and at sessions of the Conference on Illinois History. His essay on Senators Paul Simon and Alan Dixon appeared in a state bicentennial book. Hartley began writing about Illinois politics during his tenure as reporter and editor for Lindsay-Schaub newspapers, based in Decatur, from 1962 to 1979.

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Copyright © 2020 by Robert E. Hartley.

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CONTENTS

Preface

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Chapter 1 John Henry Stelle: Activist for the G.I. Bill of Rights

Chapter 2 Adlai Ewing Stevenson II: A National Celebrity, an Illinois Stumbler

Chapter 3 William Grant Stratton: The Court Fight to Save His Reputation

Chapter 4 Otto Kerner Jr.: Prisoner of a Single Wrongful Act

Chapter 5 Samuel Harvey Shapiro: Dependable and Faithful Servant to Party and State

Chapter 6 Richard Buell Ogilvie: A Reach for Stardom in Gerald Ford’s Campaign

Chapter 7 Daniel Walker: A Warrior to the Bitter and Fruitless End

Chapter 8 James Robert Thompson: High-Powered Attorney, Counselor to Governors

Chapter 9 James Edgar: Critical Decisions and Soft Landings

Chapter 10 George Homer Ryan: A Friend to Many and a Felon

Conclusion

Notes

Bibliography

PREFACE

While looking through the several published biographies of Illinois governors I was reminded of vocalist Peggy Lee’s iconic song recorded in 1969, Is That All There Is?

No criticism is intended for those biographers. When they reached the end of a governor’s time served, the rest looked pretty skimpy by comparison. This was especially true when none of the governors covered by this account blazed a further trail of successful elective office.

I found in research there is much more to be told; much more to consider as a significant portion of a distinguished man’s life. In many after-governor cases an episode or two sheds light on his hardcore character, beyond headlines, and laments notwithstanding. Thus, the Stories that follow. They tell us something we might not have known, beyond best-laid attempts to craft a charming public legacy.

I began by looking for stories that reveal significant aspects of those lives not necessarily covered by their time in office. But, in some cases the after-governor stage reflected the term in office, and one could not be considered without reviewing the other. Adlai E. Stevenson II is a good example. George Ryan is another.

The use of Stories gave me some caution. People of a certain age once got in trouble, usually with their parents, for telling stories. Stories were assumed to be untrue, or at least exaggerated. The message: Don’t tell that story again.

These adult stories ring true, and are the final chapter or chapters for lives of people who have served Illinois for better or worse. Many of these stories inspire an I didn’t know that reaction.

The after-governor years remind us that no single image fits all. The men are, as we should expect, distinct individuals, with only a few similarities. There are no carbon copies among them, especially as reflected in their later years. We know from overviews of their lives that they were men of action, regardless of the final verdict of their contribution or their policies. Some continued as achievers and left a further notable mark on state history.

In this light, the often-told stories of those who went to prison can give us pause to reflect. Where did they go wrong? Were they able to recover self-respect in spite of the punishment? Former governors Kerner, Walker and Ryan met their downfall for different reasons, under different circumstances. But how did they face that ultimate judgment? With anger, resolve, contrition? Unlike the other stories there is a certain finality in those cases. Men convicted of crimes, whether for actions during their time in office or not, are forever marked. Much of what might have been achieved in earlier years was obliterated. Untold among these stories is the impeachment and imprisonment case of Rod Blagojevich, whose term in prison was commuted as this is written. His story as a former governor may yet be told.

While these stories collectively are not intended as a sermon on behavior in office, some do remind us of the shadow of corruption and misuse of public trust that lingers over so much of Illinois political history.

It may appear strange that a story about Henry Horner (1933-1940) is included, but not one about Gov. Dwight Green (1941-1949). Horner is included because the impact of his service resonated for decades after his death and influenced the public remarks of subsequent governors, especially Adlai Stevenson. Two books written about his life have built a positive legacy of his actions as governor, and his followers continued to criticize Horner’s opponents well beyond 1940.

Due to accusations of tolerance for statewide gambling during his governorship, Dwight Green was shunned by Democrats and Republicans. He practiced law in Chicago until his death on February 20, 1958, at age 61. An obituary in the New York Times stated that Green had to borrow money to open his office, which was next door to the one used by former governor Adlai Stevenson II, Green’s nemesis in the 1948 election.

Not all governors left office with kindly thoughts about those who followed them as governor or preceded them in other offices. This becomes a part of the stories and demonstrates that egos often trumped cordiality. Tense moments are an essential part of some stories. This is true of the Henry Horner-John Stelle relationship that remains one of the most brittle episodes between two men who rarely found a moment of agreement over a five-year period. Their legacies are forever layered with personal antipathy, notably after Horner’s death.

Another case of hard feeling resulted from the clash between Thompson and Adlai E. Stevenson III during the 1982 and 1986 campaigns. Or the feeling by Jim Edgar that George Ryan carelessly spent the financial cushion his administration carefully produced. William Stratton and Adlai II remained at war on a personal level behind the scenes during Stratton’s two terms. Years after Dan Walker’s single term in office he accused Thompson of sabotaging any future political career Walker might have pursued. After all, former governors are human, and political sentiments run deep.

Being candid about these stories leads to conclusions in the following pages. They may or may not meet with conventional opinion. One of note concerns Adlai Stevenson. Among many followers of Illinois political history Stevenson ranks high as a paragon of political principle whose stirring speeches produced a following that continues in the minds of many. The story here collides with that prevailing legacy. The attention paid by historians and commentators to Stevenson’s moments on the national stage tends to ignore the consequences of his time as governor and while running for the presidency. I make no apologies for the Stevenson story, or any others that may be contrary to popular public opinion. All former governors covered by this book faced controversial political tests during which they were exposed to criticism and varied interpretations of their service. They are reminders of sharp elbows in political life.

How much does the period after governor count in the total legacy? Ignoring that last period would be like reporting only the first six innings of a no-hit baseball game. Except for Jim Thompson, who made being governor almost a lifetime career with fourteen years in office, each governor served in office a relatively short portion of an adult life. Maybe the years after are not quite the ultimate highlight, but a full public life cannot be evaluated without seeing how it played out.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Digging into the post-governor years presented challenges in research. Writing by other authors contributed helpful hints, but few details. I was dependent on collections, papers and archives, personal and institutional, providing leads that uncovered roads to follow and corners to turn. The search took me as far back in my book writing time as interviews with Jim Thompson and Dan Walker during the 1970s. I am grateful for the biographical works by authors Taylor Pensoneau, Thomas B. Littlewood, David Kenney, John Bartlow Martin, Charles J. Masters, Bill Barnhart and Gene Schlickman, and James Merriner all of whom have done the truly hard work.

I was guided by friends, former associates, and helpmates in the archives and library at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library (ALPL). Roberta Fairburn at ALPL and Dave Joens at the Illinois State Archives carried the load of hunting for key images of state figures. When it comes to digging for images that reach into the nation’s past, the place to go is the National Archives. Professionals on duty—Dorothy Alexander, Elizabeth Druga, Jane Fitzgerald, Matthew Hanson— addressed my requests promptly and with quality returns.

Regarding Richard Ogilvie’s work in behalf of Gerald R. Ford, the Ford Library at Ann Arbor, Michigan, was essential for archival materials and images of the 1976 presidential race. The same was true of documents from Frank Mackaman at the Dirksen Congressional Center, and Steve Kerber at the Lovejoy Library at SIU Edwardsville. Archives of the American Legion provided inside information for the G. I. Bill saga.

For countless times Claire Fuller Martin of Springfield has produced valuable information from newspapers, archives and dusty corners of the Illinois state capital. Thanks again, Claire.

The contributions of Prof. Paul Green of Chicago, who died in 2016, are noted for his writings about governors and the redistricting history of Illinois. He generously gave permission to use the results of research.

Special note goes to Mark DePue, who heads the oral history program at ALPL. His professional work on the oral histories of James Thompson, Jim Edgar and Dan Walker helped fill in the blanks of the three former governors. Little of note has been written about Thompson and Edgar in their years after governor. The Edgar, Thompson and Walker stories depended on DePue’s artful interviews. DePue’s works on Illinois public officials is a treasure for anyone seeking the rest of the story.

Two friends steeped in the political history of Illinois, Mike Lawrence and D. G. Schumacher, gave the manuscript a going-over. Their candid remarks saved me. I also wish to acknowledge Jim Edgar for graciously sitting through an interview, during which he spoke his mind, as I imagined he would. It reminded me of all those sessions I spent with Thompson in preparation for a book more than four decades ago.

My manuscripts are never finished without a thorough editing by the love of my life Mary Carttar Hartley. She pulls no punches. For all she has done, now and before, this book is dedicated to her.

I am indebted as well to our son, A. J. Hartley. His skills at design have produced amazing covers for this and two previous books. The others were Lewis and Clark in the Illinois Country: The Little-Told Story (2002), and Saving Yellowstone: The President Arthur Expedition in 1883 (2007). You do outstanding work, A. J.

The Lewis and Clark and Yellowstone books were self-published, as is this one. The first two were proud moments for me in my more than 20 years of writing books about politics and historic moments. In each case I believed the tales important enough to move ahead on that often lonesome self-publishing trail, after mainstream publishers backed off. Now it’s three, to go with the nine by mainstream publishers.

To Mary C. Hartley

INTRODUCTION

Henry Horner: Long Remembered After Death

Among former Illinois governors Henry Horner is an anomaly. He is the only governor since 1933 who died in office, and about whom there is no post-governor story. At least no story about a living former governor. That does not mean he was unimportant before and after death. He was the first Jew to govern Illinois. He was the only bachelor to serve as governor and live in the Springfield mansion. He steered the state through the Great Depression. Horner is the subject of two full biographies. Friends and colleagues kept his name and reputation alive for years after his death. There remains much speculation about what Horner might have done had he lived.

In many respects, Horner is the logical opener to the tales of what ten subsequent governors did after they served as the state’s top official. Like all who came after, Horner faced unexpected challenges that shaped his legacy, and political enemies determined to bring him down. He governed during a period of extreme crisis in the state, went to war with the political machine that put him in office for two terms, proved to be a tough and independent politician in dealings with the legislature, and contended with an economy that might have brought the state into bankruptcy. Lamentably in the eyes of many, he did not live to carry on. But his death just 100 days before the end of his second term opened the door to men who left their own marks on the state’s history. Horner set a realistic standard: No governor can predict what his successors will do before, during or after service.

Henry Horner, was born in Chicago on November 30, 1878, to German-Jewish parents, Solomon A. and Dilah Horner Levy. His mother divorced his father soon after the birth and took her maiden name. She insisted that Henry’s name be changed to Horner. He attended public schools in Chicago and was graduated with a law degree in 1898 from Chicago-Kent College of Law.¹ He practiced law in the city with Frank A. Whitney, the son of a collector of Abraham Lincoln memorabilia. Smitten by that connection, Horner later built a huge Lincoln memorabilia collection which he willed to the State Historical Library (now the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library).

A popular personality in the city, Horner turned toward politics with election as probate judge in 1914. He was reelected in 1918, 1922, 1926 and 1930, serving a total of eighteen years as judge. During this period Horner became a follower of dominant Democratic politicians including Mayor Anton J. Cermak, who also served as county Democratic chairman. Cermak backed Horner to run for governor in 1932, coinciding with the election of Franklin D. Roosevelt to his first term. Horner had little experience in running a business or a bureaucracy, but he was an appealing personality and a stalwart Democrat. Horner’s ethnic background played a major role in Cermak’s decision, given that Jews were a considerable factor in city politics.

Horner won the 1932 Democratic primary in a race including Chicagoan Michael L. Igoe, and downstater Bruce A. Campbell, and the general election easily against Republican former governor Len Small.²

Horner’s honeymoon as Cermak’s disciple ended, and the national political world was stunned, when Cermak was murdered in Florida on February 13, 1933, as he shook hands with President Roosevelt.³ Horner gave the eulogy at Cermak’s funeral, attended by thousands. In the uproar that followed in Chicago and Cook County political circles, Edward J. Kelly became mayor with the strong-arm backing of Patrick A. Nash. Thus was born the Kelly-Nash Democratic machine that kept Kelly mayor for fourteen years. With Chicago, and most major cities of the nation, suffering greatly in the Depression, the political upheaval brought the city to the edge economically and politically.

Historian and journalist Robert Howard referred to Judge Horner as a humanitarian who had spent most of his time on the bench caring for widows and orphans.⁴ The new governor, finding challenges never faced before, had his hands full as he adjusted to governing after years as a judge where his word was final. As a governor who lost none of his empathy for the down-trodden, Horner learned that governing the state required making unpopular decisions and dealing with an endless list of crises. He also became, by necessity, a tough-minded political governor who gambled everything to preserve his version of independence and to stymie his opponents.

The worst crisis facing Horner was the lack of revenue to meet reduced state expenses during the Depression. He quarreled with federal officials over funds from Washington. In order to keep federal money flowing, Horner and the legislature approved a $30 million bond issue, but those funds lasted less than a year. Banks in Illinois ran so low on resources that their leaders feared they could not handle a run by customers, and they would be unable to help the state pay its bills. At one point Horner declared a short-term bank holiday.

To bring new cash flow, Horner and the legislature raised the sales tax by two per cent, and started levying taxes on utility bills. To ease the new tax pressure, the leaders suspended state property taxes.⁵ These sources of income combined with dramatic reductions in state expenses helped the state limp along financially. All of these actions and threats to state stability occurred in the first months of Horner’s governorship.

It did not take long for Kelly-Nash and Horner to part ways. As a dramatic indication of the governor’s independent streak he refused to do the bidding of Democratic leadership. Kelly tried his best to kick Horner aside in the 1936 campaign and election, but Horner survived to win a second term.⁶

The election ignited a political firestorm that remains one of Illinois history’s most divisive and chaotic. Voters in 1936 elected John H. Stelle, a native of McLeansboro, as lieutenant governor, with support of Kelly. He had served as state treasurer from 1934-36. Horner made it clear that he considered Stelle a villain sponsored by the evil Chicago machine and began an energy-consuming battle to deny Stelle any status or hope of advancing politically. Stelle lost respect for the governor, although years later he praised Horner as a good man, saying to his son Roger, I made a mistake breaking with Horner.⁷ Stelle targeted Horner’s choices for administrative positions, and fought them tenaciously.

In spite of the Depression’s constraints and distracting quarrels with Mayor Kelly and forces loyal to Stelle, Horner governed as a progressive. For example, Horner and the legislature adopted old age pension and unemployment insurance laws. He did all possible to relieve the economic stress on citizens. These victories earned Horner public gratitude for decades. As a result, his supporters began thinking of a third term for Horner.

Two days before the election of 1938, Horner was stricken with coronary thrombosis.⁸ That began a two-year deterioration in his health that eventually led to death at the age of 61 on October 6, 1940. Unable to devote his attention and what energy he had left to the demands of state government, Horner refused to step down and turn the office over to Stelle. Horner was so determined to deny Stelle the governorship that he temporarily buried the political hatchet with Kelly and the machine to create a harmony Democratic ticket for the 1940 primary election. The squeeze by Horner and Kelly defeated Stelle for the nomination.⁹ His energy depleted, Horner refused to leave the state