A Governor Who Makes You Laugh
David A. Paterson is not the first governor of New York who could tell a joke.
In 1918, New Yorkers narrowly elected Alfred E. Smith as governor. Smith had learned to crack “wise” growing up on the streets of the Lower East Side. His humor helped him win political office and rise quickly to the leadership of the New York Assembly.
On the floor of the Assembly one day, an upstate Republican made the mistake of interrupting Smith with an irrelevant question as he pressed for a law to compensate workers who were injured on the job. He answered:
“As I was walking down Park Row this morning, a friend of mine tapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Al, which would you rather be, a cellar full of stepladders, a basketful of doorknobs or a piece of cracked ice?’ and I replied that I would rather be a fish because you can always break a pane of glass with a hammer.”
“Mr. Speaker,” objected the Republican. “I certainly do not get the point to the gentleman’s answer.”
Smith sprang the trap. “You don’t get the point to my answer? Well let me say to you that there is just as much
point to my answer as there is to your question.”
Like Governor Paterson, Al Smith took the oath of office at a difficult time. Paterson faces a faltering economy and a budget that is billions in the red. Smith was elected just as World War I came to an end and the nation entered a sharp recession coupled with high inflation.
Like Paterson, Smith did not have a strong electoral mandate. He had won only because the deadly flu epidemic kept Republicans away from the polls upstate.
Yet Smith would become one of New York’s greatest governors, and his success offers some hope for Paterson’s chances.
Some observers have noted that Paterson’s service in the legislature could be a plus. Certainly it was for Smith, who served in the Assembly for 11 years. His humor and warm personality won many Republican friends for a Tammany Democrat who would be in the minority throughout his career.
Of course, once the inaugural glow had faded, the Republicans had no intention of doing any favors for their friend. They fully expected to regain the governorship two years later.
But Smith never acted liked his election was an accident. He immediately appointed a bi-partisan Reconstruction Commission made up of the state’s leading citizens to address both the economic emergency and the long-term problems of reorganizing state government and improving the lives of workers.
In fighting for these reforms, Smith showed that he was capable of applying the lash. When the legislature threw his first legislative program back in his face, he attacked. “The entire program of reconstruction not only met defeat, but nothing was suggested in its place,” he said. “The great forum for public discussion was darkened, and the decisions that meant so much to the people of the State were made in a side room behind closed doors.”
Yet Smith never lost his sense of humor. Following another frustrating legislative session, he was in New York City trying to forget his troubles at the circus when a reporter approached. How would he compare the circus animals and the legislature, the reporter asked. “No comparison,” growled the gravel-voiced governor. “The animals are very intelligent.”
Smith captured the hearts of New Yorkers by developing constructive policies, taming the legislature, and keeping people laughing. Although he was narrowly defeated for reelection in the historic Harding landslide of 1920, he ran again in 1922 and received one of the biggest pluralities in state history. He went on to serve three more terms during which he achieved his ambitious plan for government reorganization. Franklin D. Roosevelt was only telling New Yorkers what they already knew when he called Smith “the Happy Warrior.”
While it is too soon to tell whether Governor Paterson will be a success, getting us laughing was a good first step.