Peggy Davis-Mullen
You gotta have a higher power
by Yvonne Abraham
It is 7:03 on a Tuesday morning, just a week after the preliminary election
that placed incumbent Peggy Davis-Mullen fourth among the candidates for four
at-large city council seats. Davis-Mullen stands beneath a huge clock just
inside the Forest Hills T station, having what she calls "a visibility." Around
her are five supporters -- including her mother, Jeanne -- holding big
blue-and-yellow PEGGY DAVIS-MULLEN signs. Every 10 minutes or so, buses pull up
outside the station, disgorging hundreds of grim commuters. Many do not look
especially receptive to a campaign pitch.
But dressed in a friendly navy cardigan sweater and skirt, Davis-Mullen stands
her ground amid the morning rush, the trains rumbling beneath her. She throws
Good mornings and Remember me in Novembers all around her, hoping
some of them will stick.
Some folks walk right by her. Others stop to shake her hand. Others still --
like the little old lady in the lavender raincoat and matching head scarf --
seem to think she is an MBTA official, and nervously flash their T passes at
her.
Then there are the folks who'd talk to anyone, like the old guy in the
yellow-and-purple baseball cap, his shirt and vest done up with one huge diaper
pin, who inches into the councilor's breathing space and wants to know, "Where
are the 80 geese that used to be over around East Boston? No one will tell me
where they are!"
Davis-Mullen cracks a helpless smile. Politics doesn't get any worse than
this.
In the lulls between buses, Davis-Mullen shifts worriedly from foot to foot,
picking a thread off her skirt, eyeing the clock above her. She has campaign
events stacked tight for the next 14 hours.
It is unlikely that any of the other seven finalists for at-large seats are
out this early, but then again, none of the others are in the uncomfortable
position in which Davis-Mullen now finds herself.
She was beaten in the preliminary by Mickey Roache, archrival Stephen Murphy,
and Dapper O'Neil. Suzanne Iannella, who placed fifth, is breathing down her
neck; Davis-Mullen finished less than 1000 votes ahead of her. And Iannella has
the kind of campaign money ($60,000 to Davis-Mullen's $14,000), and the
strategically placed friends, that Davis-Mullen can only dream about. Nope,
fourth is not a good place to be this year.
Not that Davis-Mullen is any stranger to discomfort: the outspoken South
Boston native has alienated some liberals, with her advocacy for neighborhood
schools; some conservatives, with her support of city benefits for gay
partners; Southie's sons, with her openness to Bob Kraft's stadium proposal;
and many others, with what seems like a penchant for grandstanding. And more
than any other councilor, she has dared to challenge the mayor on a host of
issues.
Still, it's never been quite this bad before.
Time to turn to God.
"I pulled out all of my medals," the councilor says, fingering her necklaces.
She holds up a large silver medal that says FAITH in big letters. "My
grandmother gave this to my mother, and it's ugly as hell, but I've decided I'm
not taking it off," she explains. The councilor also has a garnet-studded
crucifix her mother brought back from Montreal.
"I also have a relic of Saint Theresa," she says. "In past elections, I always
had that relic in my pocket." Her face falls. "I didn't have it on
[preliminary] election day," she says, "but I'll have it in November. You gotta
have a higher power."
Murphy and Iannella also have a higher power. His name is Thomas Menino.
Davis-Mullen knows better than anyone that the mayor's support can clinch a
candidate's campaign: in 1995, he put her over the top by providing her with
city workers as campaign foot soldiers. Now that he and Davis-Mullen are at
odds, he's doing the same for Murphy (although both councilors have denied
Menino's importance to their respective successes). Iannella, too, has serious
players in her corner -- her brother, well-connected former city councilor
Richard Iannella, and, again, Menino.
Davis-Mullen won't get into all of that. "I'm not going to worry about other
forces, whether it's Richie helping Suzanne Iannella, or Menino helping her, or
Menino helping Murphy," she says. "I gotta keep my eyes on the prize."
But she can't resist a small shot, albeit indirect. "People ought to be
concerned that there's a chance people are being taken out either because
[Menino] doesn't like them, or because they have an opposing viewpoint," she
says. "This administration will be around for 10 years in all. There should be
no debate? There should be silence?"