Protector of the People

Under the ordinary rules of politics, Boston's Mayor James Michael Curley would have no more chance of re-election in November than of playing halfback for Harvard. At 74, after 50 years in politics (four terms as mayor, four as a U.S. Representative, one as governor), he had suffered at one time or another from diabetes, arteriosclerosis, hypertension and ingrown eyelashes. He had served two penal sentences (the last, in 1947 for mail fraud) and during his stewardship Boston's debt and high taxes have increased, and its reputation for corruption has not declined.

But with Curley, as with Boston, the ordinary rules did not apply. Last week, as the mayoralty campaign heated up, the old man got up at 6 each morning, spent hours bestowing favors, made appearances at football games, banquets, parades and public meetings. Despite his age and ailments, he still managed the mellow eloquence and the matchless gall which had made him the darling of the Boston streets. Though his principal opponents were Irishmen like himself, he spoke as though he were a protector of the people crusading against the Boston Brahmins.

Boston's anti-Curley Democrats and Republicans had refused to form a coalition. The noisiest of them was young (38), tough Democratic Candidate Patrick J. Sonny McDonough who had a lot of tricks from Curley's book. He was tearing through the streets like a wild man, handing out free combs to the ladies and green address books to the men, singing Galway Bay and reciting Curley's sins at the top of his lungs. Another Democrat (John B. Hynes), a Republican and a Progressive were also clacking away at Curley's sins.

Yet a good many Bostonians seemed to have a sneaking admiration for Curley's colorful past and his unabashed cupidity. The bulk of the solid citizenry who got indignant at bad government had long since moved to the suburbs and had no vote, and only one in five of the voters within the city's narrow limits were property owners.

None of this guaranteed victory to James Michael Curley. The old man liked it better when the ring was crowded; there was a choice of targets, and his opponents might knock each other out instead of him. Curley might yet be around to horrify Boston's reformers for another term.

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