In 1981, former House Speaker Michael Madigan hired me as a press person and speechwriter for the Illinois House Democrats. The party had just lost enough seats in the 1980 election to put lawmakers in the minority and future felon George Ryan in the speaker’s chair.
A news report said they were looking for a fresh start and new ideas. I had worked during the previous summers for a Democrat representative from southern Illinois. That, and my background in political science and journalism, got me an interview before party leaders assembled at a long conference table. Madigan asked me how much salary I wanted and when I answered, he brought it up to $15,000 a year. It was the happiest day of my life.
I loved working in the House. What I had only read in books was happening right in front of me. I wrote reams of press releases and speeches. Once, I ghost wrote an op-ed for a representative that the Sun-Times ran.
________
The Chicago Tribune opinion section publishes op-eds from readers and experts about specific issues of the day. Op-eds reflect the views of the writer and not necessarily the Chicago Tribune.
________
When members were absent from the floor, I was instructed to push the voting buttons on bills. I was uneasy about it until I saw my Republican counterparts across the aisle doing the same thing. I must have cast hundreds, maybe a thousand, votes in the House. Some of the legislators didn’t even try to do their jobs; they slept in their chairs, snoring with their mouths wide open. Some would come on the floor with paper and a rubber band over their beer cans which fooled no one. The clever ones would pour mixed drinks into Pepsi cans.
But there were honest and sincere members as well. First among them was Madigan, I thought. I remember listening to him speak on the House floor when I said out loud I would march into hell for that man.
Madigan knew my name, but he rarely interacted directly with me. The other speechwriters were constantly engaged in jockeying for power, which turned the office into a snake pit. But I kept working and hoping quality work would be enough. I ran afoul only rarely. Once, a press release I wrote for a member critical of other members was somehow intercepted and destroyed, and I took the heat for it.
I had been hired with the idea of cleaning up the image of the Democratic Party. So when I was ordered to do party work outside of the House while on the public payroll, I objected. They were not happy.
My end came through no fault of my own. My first political campaign was for Dan Walker, the reformer who won the governor’s race against the machine’s choice before losing to a Republican. Walker started whispering he might run for governor again. It was too much for Madigan. I was fired without warning. I was stunned. I tried to speak to Madigan but was blocked.
I left the Illinois legislature so hurt and bitter that I did not even vote again until 1988. But not even a bad experience with Madigan could cure me of politics. After law school, I ran unsuccessfully twice for office in Missouri. And now Madigan has resigned after a record career.
As someone once said, politics ain’t beanbag. Madigan was above all a fighter in a dirty game. I’m past any animosity I once had for him. I hope the people of Illinois can eventually find that peace as well.
Greg Bailey of St. Louis is the author of “The Herrin Massacre of 1922: Blood and Coal in the Heart of America.”
Submit a letter, of no more than 400 words, to the editor here or email letters@chicagotribune.com.
Get our latest editorials, op-eds and columns, delivered twice a week in our newsletter. Sign up here.
