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Winner and Loser in Senatorial Race

O'Connor: Refreshing Personality In Massachusetts State Politics

By Robert E. Smith

In his Statler Hotel headquarters Thomas J. O'Connor conceded to Senator Leverett Saltonstall about midnight election night. For the 35-year-old mayor of Springfield who tried to unseat the man who surely now is recognized as a phenomenon in Massachusetts politics it was a disappointing end to a campaign that never quite got off the ground. The energy and the ability of the man were there, but the organization and planning and money that go into running for office was missing. O'Connor, though a loser, is a fresh face on the tired political scene in the Bay State and will undoubtedly come before the Massachusetts voters again before long.

O'Connor really did not belong in the Senatorial race in the first place. Springfield Mayor since 1957, he challenged Governor Foster Furcolo for the Democratic nomination last spring. After a tough bid by the young bachelor for endorsement, the state convention in Worcester backed the party man, Furcolo.

As the pros shuddered about his slim chances, O'Connor furthered his audacious challenge of the Governor by entering a primary against him in September. O'Connor waged a vigorous but financially poor campaign and emerged--some-how--as the victor by 50,000 votes. He carried Boston in the primary and attracted the votes of several ethnic groups previously considered Furcolo property. Then, as the Saltonstall camp discarded files and files on the Governor's vulnerable record in office and as some state reisdents rejoiced over Furcolo's defeat, O'Connor set out to unseat "Salty," the senior senator whose devotional following bewilders many.

The campaign was unique in Massachusetts annals in that it lacked a surplus of corruption charges, below-the-belt exchanges, and name-calling. No one would catch Salty participating in such political trash and O'Connor had better things on his mind.

"My opponent believes in the status quo. He has voted more with the Southern conservatives and Barry Goldwater than he has with our interests in the Northern industrial states. I say when our vice-President is stoned in South America, when our President can't go to Japan, when our economic growth is not what is should be, when thousands of students must be told they cannot go to college simply because of money, we can not afford a Levertt Saltonstall in the Senate. My opponent is not a 'bad' man, but I am sure that I could be more active in Washington."

That was the O'Connor pitch and it was very effective when delivered on a street corner in his vigorous, speaking style, O'Connor said the right things, and he tried to do so without alienating those who liked Saltonstall perhaps as a museum piece but not as a senator. However few people heard what he had to say and fewer were sure that they should abandon Saltonstall.

The common plea in the Mayor's camp was that there was no money. His main weapons were newspaper advertising (less than other candidates), his private car, and a fistful of brochures that explained all about Tom O'Connor. He was handicapped by lack of man-power in what a Boston Globe reporter once said (but did not write) was the worst publicized campaign in Massachusetts. He stated that all the other politicians flooded the news rooms with charges, counter-charges, and press releases. The O'Connor managers caught on, it seems, only in the last days of the campaign.

O'Connor would travel to various cities in the state with no definite timetable and the press could never find him. Often the loudspeakers and convertibles were there, but the crows just didn't realize that the candidate was in town and he was left to waving at people standing on the street here and there. Conceivably, it was possible to mistake the crew-cut, arm-waving mayor as some show-off teenager.

His approach was to stroll alone into barber shops, super markets, and taverns, extend his hand and say "I'm Tom O'Connor running for U.S. Senator." "Could I leave one of these with you?" said the mayor as he dropped a brochure in the hand of the voter. There was very little chit-chat or contact after that. O'Connor was not known by Massachusetts, and his campaign did not expose him much more to the electorate.

Whan it came to issues, Tom O'Connor was pretty sharp. He never professed to offer specific proposals, but he impressed many as at least having the right ideas. There was never any doubt where he stood on the standard issues, and he reiterated his stands time and again in forthright language. The changeover from a mayor interested in civic problems to the Senate candidate who must talk on national and international issues presented some difficulties. Because of this problem and also because of O'Connor's excellent record as mayor of the state's third largest city, many politicians and voters wish that he had run for governor. He probably would have won and most likely would have made a strong chief executive for the state.

The mayor bridged the gap between civic servant and foreign policy-conscious candidate through meetings with Harvard professors who supported his candidacy from the start. Samuel H. Beer and Mark DeWolfe Howe apparently saw in O'Connor the makings of a good liberal senator and embraced his cause before the primary. They, and others with ADA leanings, also helped advise him on policy during the heat of the campaign. From them O'Connor picked up facts and opinion that he later combined into his appeal that "everything is not rosy" and that "we must get this country-moving again."

In these pleas O'Connor reminds one of Kennedy, which is no accident. Just as Kennedy created an FDR image, O'Connor did not avoid giving the electorate the impression that he and the junior senator were similar. On the experience issue which hit O'Connor often, he retorted, "I think this state has done well on the young senators it has sent to Washington: John Kennedy at 35 (my age) and Cabot Lodge at 34 (one year younger than me)."

A prime concern among O'Connor supporters in the closing days of the campaign was whether Kennedy would endorse (beyond the standard telegram sent to all candidates) O'Connor when the senator came to Boston last Monday. Kennedy did, but Massachusetts split its ballot.

The Saltonstall O'Connor duel was also unique in that both candidates hung to the Kennedy coattails. The senior senator distributed pictures of the two together and talked of their joint efforts in Congress. O'Connor repeatedly challenged Saltonstall to endorse Nixon and emphasized, "Jack needs young men in Washington," and "Saltonstall would be of a minority party opposite of that of President Kennedy."

Salty, however, retained his popularity, status quo or not. The hope among Democrats is that the young mayor from Western Massachusetts will not quit trying. He is refreshing in the party and holds chances of bigger things eventually. If elected senator or governor he would hardly be a typical public official. A devotee of Dixie- land, he listens to popular music and talks with voters about baseball, Springfield, his college days, and the neighborhood kids on "Hungry Hill" in Springfield where he was born. One of seven children, Tom went to Amherst College (Class of '47) on scholarship and then to Georgetown Law. He was president of his class in high school and college, and continued in politics at law school and beyond.

O'Connor, 32 years old at the time, abandoned private practice as an attorney to run for Mayor in 1957. He won the job and in two years received a citation for Springfield as the outstanding town in the Commonwealth from the University of Massachusetts Bureau of Government. The same year the city was chosen as an honorable mention All-American city and received encouraging aid in its urban renewal attempts--O'Connor's forte.

One of Tom O'Connor's associates described him correctly a week ago when he was rushing down the Mass Turnpike to reach a reception for him that started two hours earlier. Nervous because he was late, O'Connor insisted upon taking the wheel and shot down the highway. "You're going places, Tom O'Connor," said the associate. "You may crack up on the way, but you're going places."

O'Connor, apparently, has had his first crack-up. Now he is going places

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