Pittston Dispatch // PD Columnists // Ed Ackerman - Optimist

Sunday October 25, 2009 | 01:00 AM

I don’t write about politics. If I did, I’d be telling you to vote to retain Judge Tom Burke on November 3.

But I don’t write about politics. Except for this one time, which I had forgotten about until Mike Savokinas showed up a couple of weeks ago with a yellowed copy of a Sunday Dispatch datelined Nov. 4, 1984.

I was writing a column even then, 25 years ago, so I flipped through the paper to see what I had to say that week. Turns out it was something political.

Also turns out the photo at the top showed some guy with a head full of dark hair and a mustache.

Times have changed.

As soon as I saw the headline – Two for the foxhole – I knew exactly what that old column was about.

Election Day was two days away and I wrote an endorsement for state representatives Tom Tigue and Gaynor Cawley, each of whom served for about 26 years before retiring.

They were fairly new in their political careers back then, but still it wasn’t like I was sticking my neck out. They were such shoe-ins no one even knew who was running against them. “My family doesn’t even know,” Cawley had told me, “and I’m not telling them until Wednesday morning.”

Most Dispatch readers could not vote for Cawley, whose district was in the Scranton area, and Tigue certainly did not need my help. But still I wanted to say something about them. And besides, I had heard a story I just had to tell. It was mostly about Cawley but as usual, he had dragged Tigue into it.

The story revolved around this $50-a-plate political rally in Scranton. Keep in mind it was 1984 and fifty bucks was a lot of money.

As a candidate, Cawley was expected to dip into his pocket and purchase ten tickets, which he promptly did. He needed one for himself and set aside two for his wife and mother but what he did with the remaining seven is what makes the story. He used them to invite seven homeless men from Scranton.

And he got Tigue to help pick them up.

Of course, Cawley didn’t tell Tigue anything about it. He just said he needed him to give some people rides to the dinner.

“I followed him to some pretty run down neighborhoods,” Tigue told me. “But it didn’t take me long to realize what Gaynor was up to. He didn’t mind buying a bunch of tickets at $50 apiece but he was determined to give them to guys who’d appreciate a good meal.”

And so, sprinkled among the well-to-dos in pin-striped suits that night, were the seven whom Cawley introduced to everyone as his “honored guests”.

“They had the time of their lives,” Tigue said later.

Cawley and Tigue were a lot alike. They both came from humble backgrounds and were champions of the downtrodden. Their political base was as grassroots as it gets. Their rallies usually involved hot dogs and beer and their campaigns were run door-to-door.

Their style as public servants is best exemplified by the car Tigue leased when he found out he was entitled to use public funds for transportation to and from Harrisburg. The vehicle was so basic – no power windows, no air conditioning, no radio – that Cawley always referred to it as “the cab”.

Since I was well aware neither would toot his own horn, my method for gaining info for a column was to go to Tigue and tell him I was writing about Cawley, and then go to Cawley and say I was writing about Tigue. Getting each to talk about the other was easy.

Of Cawley, Tigue said, “Gaynor is one of the strongest yet one of the most emotional men I have ever met. He’s notorious for his quick wit, but his jokes are always aimed as those who’ve got it made, or those he feels have it made. He’s always making fun of me. But he is a champion of the unfortunate. There is no end to his compassion.”

Of Tigue, Cawley said, “Tommy Tigue has so many excellent qualities that I always by-pass everything and go right to the bottom line. And the bottom line is that Tommy Tigue just may be the best, and I do mean the best representative in Harrisburg. First of all, he absolutely votes his conscience. He’ll never surrender to pressure and everyone in Harrisburg knows it and deeply respects him for it.”

They each said a good deal more about the another but I’ll jump to the final thing Cawley said: “Tom Tigue is the guy I want in the foxhole next to me if the Russians invade us.”

That’s where the headline came from. I’d want those guys in the foxhole with me too.

And if I wrote about politics, I’d definitely add Tom Burke to the list today.

But, as I said, I don’t write about politics.