In March of 1988, a statewide presidential primary was held in Missouri to select the Democratic and Republican candidates for president. The three major candidates on the ballot were Jesse Jackson, Massachusetts Governor George Dukakis and 3rd District Congressman Richard Gephardt from St. Louis. On this same day, eight other states were holding presidential primaries on what was being called Super Tuesday.
Although Congressman Gephardt won the popular vote and the lion’s share of the Democratic delegates in Missouri, he lost the predominately black first congressional district and – surprisingly – the city of St. Louis to Jesse Jackson.
I was completing my second year as St. Louis city assessor, having been appointed by Mayor Vincent Schoemehl in April 1986 to replace Gwen Giles, who had died of lung cancer in March 1986.
As was my routine, on this Friday morning after Super Tuesday I attended the weekly session of the St. Louis Board of Aldermen. I had been a member of the board for four years, from 1981 to 1985, and as assessor I tried to attend every weekly meeting to listen to the political gossip and scuttlebutt. I would also make myself available to the aldermen to answer any constituent questions that they may have regarding assessments. The assessor was responsible for assessing all the real and personal property in the city of St. Louis.
On this particular Friday morning, my boss, Mayor Schoemehl, was in attendance. As he was leaving the board chambers, he waived his hand, beckoning me to come to him. I quickly walked towards him. He was standing near a large wooden door that led to the Board of Aldermen chambers. When I got to the door, he leaned over and told me he needed to talk to me about something and asked me to walk back to his office with him. I immediately told him yes and followed him as he left the chambers and walked through the City Hall corridors to Room 200, the Mayor’s office.
When we got to his office, Schoemehl started a conversation with his press secretary and thus left me alone in his office to try and figure out what he wanted to talk to me about. Was it a constituency question? A budgetary issue?
As we entered his office through his private entrance, Vince immediately picked up his phone and called Nancy Rice, his political staff person. He told her that I was with him in his office and asked her to join us. Asking Nancy to join us provoked another thousand thoughts about what Vince wanted to talk to me about that had to be done right now. Normally, it took two weeks to get on his schedule. The only thing that I could think of was either a complaint or maybe some political favor one of his important supporters wanted from the assessor’s office.
Nancy was in his office in less than a minute. Nancy Rice was Vince’s political operative. Her official title was executive secretary to the mayor, the only exempted or patronage office in the mayor’s office. All of the other positions on the mayor’s staff were civil servants. Civil servants were prohibited by the City Charter from participating in any political activity while on the city payroll.
Nancy had Irish red hair and bore the nickname “Red Sonja.” She was also the niece of one of the most powerful Irish politicians in the history of St. Louis politics, Jack Dwyer. Dwyer had been committeeman of the 4th Ward and city treasurer. He also served as the chairman of the St. Louis City Democratic Central Committee.
After exchanging pleasantries, Vince motioned for us to go and sit on a couch and love seat in what could be described as a lounging area of his office. He asked me how I was doing and told me that he had heard nothing but good things about my performance as assessor. Nancy nodded her head, and Vince then asked me what my future plans were.
I reminded him of a conversation I had with him several months before about becoming the deputy assessor when Lowell Jackson, the current deputy, retired. Lowell was retiring in June and I was interested in getting his job, which was in the civil service and thus more secure.
Nancy responded immediately, telling me that she could not believe that I was not interested in getting back into elected politics. She said she thought that my future in politics was bright.
I thanked her and then reiterated my desire to pursue a civil service career. I told her that my daughter was a going to be a junior in high school in September and I needed a job that was more secure to help me prepare for her college tuition costs. They both nodded their heads, acknowledging my comments, but it was clear from the looks on their faces that this was not the answer they were looking for.
Vince then started telling me about a meeting he had with 1st District Congressman William L. Clay in January of that year at Kim Tucci’s house. Tucci was one of Vince’s earliest and strongest supporters. He always bragged to black people about how he taught Vince at De Andreas, an integrated Catholic high school in North St. Louis. He, along with John Ferrara and Mike Fresta, were joint owners of the Pasta House Co.
Vince said that Tucci and Luther Boykins convened the January meeting. Luther had also attended De Andreas. In addition to being an early Schoemehl supporter, he was also a paid political operative responsible for orchestrating Schoemehl’s North Side support base.
Vince said that the meeting was convened to heal a rift that had developed between Schoemehl and Bill Clay in the summer of 1986, when Schoemehl filed candidates against several Clay allies.
Schoemehl had encouraged Judy Raker to run against state Senator John Bass; Chester Hines for state representative against Clay’s son, William Lacy Clay Jr.; Louis Hamilton against Circuit Clerk Freeman Bosley Jr.; and Marvin Steele against License Collector Billie Boykins.
Jack Keane, another ally of Schoemehl, had filed as a candidate against Collector of Revenue Ronald Leggett. Schoemehl had also convinced Al Jackson, former assistant director of the St. Louis Housing Authority and a candidate for comptroller in 1985, to file for collector of revenue with the hope that Jackson, an African American, would split the black vote.
To be continued in next week’s Black History Month section.
This article is excerpted from Virvus Jones’ forthcoming memoir, “The Swap.” This version of events reflects the author’s personal memories of events in which he was a direct participant.
