Thompson v. Howlett

In part, it is the old story of the fighting prosecutor who takes on corrupt big-city dragons. James ("Big Jim") Thompson managed to slap numerous unsavory politicians of both major parties, cops, sheriffs deputies and state legislators behind bars. Thus the U.S. Attorney for northern Illinois acquired a reputation as imposing as his 6 ft. 6 in., 200-lb. physique. Now the Republican candidate for Governor, Thompson, 40, leads Chicago Mayor Richard Daley's hand-picked candidate, Michael Hewlett, by such a margin that some Democrats fear their entire ticket may be doomed. Thompson's lead could deny the crucial state to Jimmy Carter.

Daley, of course, may have something to say about that once he fine tunes his vaunted Cook County organization. But in four different polls, Thompson has been ahead by margins ranging from 15 to 24 percentage points, and even Daley may not be able to narrow that sufficiently. On the campaign trail, Hewlett, 62, who established a good record as state auditor for twelve years and as secretary of state since 1972, has come across as a buffoon. He once said "F--you" to a television reporter--on camera. He also offered up a straight line to Thompson by criticizing his foe for taking his 14-week-old Irish setter, Guv, along on campaign trips. Cracked Thompson: "He's only jealous because the dog's been drawing bigger crowds than he has."

Hewlett has myriad other problems.

Jowly, at least 40 Ibs. overweight, "He looks, talks and walks like Daley" as Thompson delights in putting it. The Daley "old pol" image is not greeted downstate or even in the suburbs with the ecstasy it still engenders in Chicago. What is more, Hewlett won a bitter primary battle over Governor Dan Walker, a Daley foe, and the wounds are still festering. Another internecine war--Daley's futile attempt to oust black Representative Ralph Metcalfe from Congress--has provided Thompson with a bonanza: angry Metcalfe backers now serve as volunteers for the former prosecutor. A Hewlett snub of a speaking invitation from United Black Voters of Illinois led to the group's endorsement of Thompson, which may mean as many as 100,000 votes for Thompson--equal to 20% of the Cook County black vote, which normally goes 90% plus to any Democrat. Many blacks are also aware that it was Thompson who once prosecuted a white cop for violating a black youth's civil rights.

Hewlett's attempts to tarnish his foe by accusing him, without offering proof, of "fixing" a case when he was prosecutor and of being paid $50,000 by a law firm to run for Governor have fizzled and, in the latter case, boomeranged. The allegation simply reopened an issue Walker exploited in the primary: that Hewlett accepted $15,000 annually from a steel company while he was on the state payroll. "How else are you going to raise a family of six children and take care of a 90-year-old mother-in-law?" Hewlett asks.

Thompson, a dull speaker and a novice in politics, has credentials so impressive from his days as a prosecutor that he does not need to be a spellbinder. His Carterish campaign pledge is to bring Illinois an administration that is "open and decent and honest." Having successfully prosecuted former Democratic Governor Otto Kerner (when Kerner was a federal judge), six Chicago aldermen, Daley's press secretary, a former Cook County clerk, several legislators and 57 cops and sheriffs deputies, he sounds like a man who might keep that pledge. On the stump, he clutches the mike, like a rock singer, with his right hand, and his left fist is constantly clenched as if in readiness to slug some recalcitrant. As his poll leads have widened, despairing Democrats and rejoicing Republicans have largely come to the conclusion that only an enormous gaffe or a genuine scandal could untrack him.

Not much chance of that. Thompson prepared for the campaign with all the meticulousness he brought to the courtroom, taking a cram course on state government and local problems. He shed 42 Ibs. from his huge frame and 10 in. from his waistline lifting weights and playing racquet ball. His marriage at age 39 to Jayne Carr, an assistant attorney general, quieted whispers about his private life.

If he succeeds to the Governor's chair in the fifth largest state, Big Jim will become an immediate dazzler in the generally lusterless G.O.P. firmament. If he proves a quick study in the statehouse and is resoundingly re-elected as well, he will clearly be in contention for a spot on the 1980 Republican national ticket. Thompson will then be only 44, and Guv just a little over four.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.