When Rep. Stewart B. McKinney died from AIDS in 1988 he
had three months left in his office term. The State of
Connecticut announced a special election and Christopher Shays, a
Republican, was the first to sign in. I was the second, as an
independent write-in candidate.
There were
also several others climbing aboard the bandwagon. But Shays and I ruled
the media’s coverage. He had $200,000 and 200 staff members with
as many telephones. I had $20,000 and 20 team members, all college age.
My headquarters was the 1911 Duluth, Winnepeg & Pacific caboose in
our backyard with one telephone and piles of campaign literature.
The only political experience I had dated back to
1945 when I spent an hour in the House of Representatives as a
Washington tourist. There were about twenty Representatives
present, taking turns at the lectern to defend or protest some sort of
water conservation bill before Congress. Vice-President Harry S. Truman,
as Speaker of the House, sat high above the assembly with his feet on
his desk! And he was reading a LIFE Magazine throughout the hour!
Fast forward forty-three years and here I was, throwing
my hat into the political ring. On second thought, this was really
going to be my second experience with politics. In 1964 I
served as campaign manager for Mrs. Yetta Bronstein, independent
candidate for President of the United States with a great slogan, “Vote
for Yetta and Things Will Get Betta.”
Although that was all in fun, and Yetta lost by a
landslide, she did get more write-in votes that Mickey Mouse or Johnny
Carson. Her competition was Barry Goldwater and Lyndon Johnson. Newsmen
David Brinkley and Chet Huntley adopted Mrs. Bronstein as their favorite
(tongue-in-cheek of course) on nightly television broadcasts from
Convention headquarters in Atla ntic City.
My wife Jeanne, a superb actress with multiple
character voices, looked more like Natalie Wood than a Jewish housewife
with fallen arches from the Bronx. So she stayed out of sight, only did
interviews by phone and allowed me to take the heat up front. I always
explained to reporters that Mrs. Bronstein was in Israel planting a
tree.
The student body at Johns Hopkins
University in Baltimore extended an invitation for her to visit the
campus and speak. I accepted in her name, as campaign manager, and took
the train on the appointed day. At the Baltimore station there were
several hundred students waiting with campaign signs bearing Yetta’s
slogan, a marching band playing “There’ll Be a Hot Time in the Old Town
Tonight,” and Milton Eisenhower, President of the University!
I spoke to the crowd and there was great
disappointment over Yetta’s absence. But I managed to charm them with
her platform that included: lowering all sidewalk curbs for baby
carriages and senior citizens; putting Jayne Mansfield’s nude
photo on postage stamps; truth serum in the Senate drinking fountain; a
chicken in everyone’s pot and other humorous planks.
When the NEW YORK TIMES called to publish a story on
Mrs. Bronstein, they insisted she appear for the photographer forthwith.
They had a deadline with their Sunday Magazine going to press the next
day. So Jeanne and I decided to make an appearance and take our chances
on an expose.
We met photographer Sam Falk
in Central Park, I carried a campaign sign and Jeanne wore a huge red,
white and blue crape paper button that said VOTE FOR YETTA BRONSTEIN.
Falk never batted an eyelash as he shot several rolls of film of us
walking around with dozens strangers attracted to the scene. Jeanne, 27
years old, wore an attractive dress and displayed her long blonde hair.
And that’s the way she appeared in the TIMES several weeks later, as
Mrs. Yetta Bronstein, along with a story on her campaign.
Subsequently, the NEW YORK DAILY NEWS revealed the
hoax. Their feature story showed Jeanne riding her bicycle and a
humorous story brought down the curtain on this four-year scenario. She
received an offer from Hawthorn Books to write “The President I Almost
Was” and completed a manuscript in six weeks of frenetic writing. Avon
Books paid $60,000 for the paperback rights and Peter Wolfe Ltd.
Published an English edition.
Cassandra, the
British book critic, said “The President I Almost Was” is the best
American satire since Sinclair Lewis’ ‘Babbitt.’” There was also
some flirtation with Broadway producers for a stage play,
including Jewish actress Gertrude Berg. Unfortunately, she passed
away before anything materialized.
Now, back
to the future. I had a ball with my student campaigners when I ran for
Congress in 1988, during a month of traveling around the state. We had
four cars and concentrated our efforts in Stamford, New Haven and
Hartford. As a political candidate there was never a problem with police
permits or using a bull horn in downtown areas. The cops were very obliging in allowing us to take over public malls and parks.
I also made a trip to Washington with several of my
supporters to measure McKinney’s office. That was for the purpose of
redecorating in case I won. No problem obtaining access, taking photos
and measurements. Imagine attempting this sort of feat following
9/11 and the Homeland Security ring around Washington.
On election night we all waited in the caboose for
results and it soon became apparent that Christopher Shays would win
hands down. My supporters gradually but sadly said their goodbyes and
they really believed I had a chance. The youngest member, Gary Schwartz,
a high school senior, was quite upset and suggested I demand a recount
of votes. I assured him it was all over and the best man won.
By the way, if I did win, my first official act in office would be to resign.
