Executioner's song
A special-election question: can a local politician win on the death penalty?
City Hall by Yvonne Abraham
Maureen Feeney, ordinarily the jolliest of politicians, is very angry tonight.
The district councilor from Dorchester arrives at the annual Saint
Ann's Parish Turkey Shoot wearing a tiny rhinestone angel pin and a frown. Less
than a month after her reelection to the city council, Feeney is campaigning
for the Democratic primary nomination in a December 9 special election to
replace long-time Senator Paul White, who has left the State House to become a
vice president at Boston College. Whoever wins the primary will almost
certainly win the final. Among her opponents is the freshman representative
from the Seventh Suffolk, Brian Joyce.
"Guess what I just heard?" she says. "Brian Joyce went up North Main Street,
in Randolph, and told people they had no right to have my signs up because
he's their state rep. So they took them down."
Tonight, Feeney greets a lot of her supporters -- many of whom already address
her as senator -- with long hugs and the Joyce news. The parishioners are
outraged for her, and tell her she's going to win anyway. Feeney is
bolstered.
"He's about to find out what it's like to mess with a Dorchester woman," she
says loudly.
More than anything else, it's Feeney's status as a Dorchester woman that made
her the favorite in this race long before it officially began. Because despite
the fact that the very large district up for grabs (called the Suffolk and
Norfolk) is one of the state's most diverse, this special primary is as
narrowly focused as any city council fight. Ordinarily, it's difficult for
Boston politicians to make the journey from the municipal level to the lofty
heights of statewide office. This race is a rare exception: because there's no
time for a real campaign, it has brought the mountain to Dorchester.
But less parochial passions have come here, too. This election is the first
state contest to be held since a bill to reinstate capital punishment nearly
passed the state legislature. The death penalty debate is more highly charged
now than it has been for decades.
As a result, this race has oscillated between the local issues and the Big
Questions. Some days, it's about who will be best at marshaling constituents:
Feeney, Brian Joyce (who has Milton sewn up), Feeney's council colleague and
fellow Senate candidate Maura Hennigan (whose most committed constituents live
outside this Senate district), or Eleanor Mulloney LeCain, who has never held
office before. Other days, it's about how the worst crimes -- such as the
murder of Jeffrey Curley -- should be punished. And Maura Hennigan, with the
Curleys' help, has cornered the market on that one.
The folks gathered at Saint Ann's parish hall are not especially diverse: they
are mostly white, mostly of Irish descent, all Catholic, and all Maureen
Feeney's.
But outside the hall, and beyond Dorchester, it's a different story. The
Suffolk and Norfolk district is even more diverse than it was nine years ago,
when Paul White won it after 16 years as a state representative. It covers the
city areas of Dorchester, Mattapan, Hyde Park, Roslindale, and Jamaica Plain,
as well as sections of suburban Canton, Milton, Avon, and Randolph. Several of
those areas -- Avon, and parts of Canton and JP -- were added in the
redistricting of 1992.
How to win in such a wide-ranging district? The trick is for candidates to
work their own turf. And in a contest like this, in the dead of winter, in the
middle of the holiday season, and with what would normally be an eight-month
campaign squeezed into the five weeks after city elections, turf is even more
important than usual.
Joyce has turf: his stronghold is Milton, but he's pretty solid in Canton and
Randolph, too. Part of his campaign strategy has been to pit his suburban base
against the other candidates' city constituencies. THEY WANT TO KEEP TAKING OUR
MONEY AND GIVING IT TO THEIR NEIGHBORHOODS, blares one of Joyce's recent
newspaper advertisements. DON'T LET THEM DO IT! (He did not agree to be
interviewed for this story.)
Hennigan has turf, too, but part of it -- political-junkie-filled West Roxbury
-- isn't in this Senate district, which leaves her with less-fervent Jamaica
Plain.
Feeney, however, has the best turf: voter-rich Dorchester, where a good record
on delivering constituent services has made her popular, and where turnout is
traditionally among the highest in the city. And in this election, that may be
all she needs.
"We gotta keep this seat in Dorchester," Ed Sullivan, a gruff, 60-ish
supporter tells Feeney at the turkey shoot. Sullivan says he has ties to the
Hennigan family. "But I'm voting for Dorchester," Sullivan says. "I'm voting
for you."
Later on, Sullivan calls Feeney over to tell her he's for her in spite of her
opposition to capital punishment. Feeney listens patiently, secure that she's
on solid philosophical ground. She is very Catholic and staunchly pro-life --
which to her means anti-abortion and anti-death penalty -- and Sullivan
doesn't give her too much of a fight.
It's not the first time in the past month that Feeney has been called upon to
justify her position on capital punishment, and it probably won't be the last.
For the first few weeks of the race, the issue seemed set to consume the
election.
That was largely Hennigan's doing. Her support for capital punishment has set
her apart from the rest of the field and directly against Joyce, who came out
against it after vacillating publicly in the State House vote. Hennigan
benefits from the controversy: a big, hot issue like the death penalty can help
her appeal to voters across the entire district.
Hennigan insists that this is not a case of political expediency, however. "I
ran for the Senate seven years ago," she says. "And I was pro-choice,
pro-domestic partnerships, and pro-capital punishment. All they focused on was
the pro-choice part, and they didn't care that I was pro-capital punishment. In
this campaign, I'm for exactly the same issues, and all they want to focus on
is the death penalty."
That focus would probably not have been so relentless if Hennigan hadn't been
endorsed by the Curley family, whose 10-year-old son, Jeffrey, was kidnapped,
sexually assaulted, and murdered in October. The Curleys, who live in
Cambridge, have been in the Senate district handing out what look like the palm
cards from Catholic funerals. The cards have Jeffrey's picture on them and say,
in part, "We ask you to support our son's legacy with your vote for Maura
Hennigan."
That has exposed Hennigan to charges of political opportunism. Even her friend
Maureen Feeney disapproves. "Did you see that palm card?" Feeney says. "It's
horrible!"
Hennigan bristles at that accusation. "The Curleys requested the palm card,"
she says. "They came to me. I never contacted them. I'm not going
to second-guess the way they support me. It's their child."
Feeney believes the issue is finally receding: "That political football has
been deflated," she says. But not before it cost Hennigan the support of her
own Ward 19 (Jamaica Plain) Democratic Committee. "There were people who felt
that we owed her an endorsement," committee chair Jen Wofford says. "[But] even
more had real hesitations because of the death penalty."
Eleanor Mulloney LeCain has picked up some of Hennigan's former supporters in
JP. She is the only candidate in the race who is both pro-choice and anti-death
penalty. She was campaign manager for Rosaria Salerno's first at-large council
run, and an adviser to former lieutenant governor Evelyn Murphy. LeCain has
doggedly focused on issues such as economic opportunity, higher education,
environmental protection -- all naturals for somebody seeking statewide
office.
"The issues city councilors deal with are substantially different from the
issues people deal with at the State House," says Wofford, who personally
supports LeCain. "Snow removal and basic city services don't necessarily
prepare somebody to deal with issues like abortion or the death penalty."
And that is probably even more true in this era of shrinking opportunities for
citywide representation. Since the school committee went from elected to
appointed in 1991, and nine of the city council seats went from at-large to
district representation in 1983, city politics has been increasingly bound to
local constituent services. That has made it hard for municipal politicians to
make the jump to the next level.
But this is a special election, an exception to what has become the rule in
Boston, a rare opportunity to ascend straight from the district to the state
level. Turnout promises to be very low: that's good for politicians with
fervent voters as constituents. That's good for Maureen Feeney.
And what's good for Maureen Feeney is also good for the many Dorchester
hopefuls lining up to take her place. Boston politics is like a huge,
overcrowded game of musical chairs, and the music doesn't stop very often.
Incumbents are rarely defeated. There are a lot of frustrated political animals
out there, especially in Dorchester.
If Feeney is elected to the Senate, there will be ripples all the way
back to the local level, and a special election to replace her, probably in
early spring. That contest will draw about a dozen contenders. Chief among them
will be Charlie Burke, Dorchester fixture and aide to city councilor Mickey
Roache. "There's a million people interested," he says. "I've got people
calling me about it every day."
Jim Hunt, White's godson and former legislative aide, will probably run, too.
(He ran for Jim Brett's vacated House seat back in March.) Brendan McDonough,
the young head of the Dorchester Educational Enrichment Program, a successful
public tutoring program, might also enter the race. (Several people say he
would be Mayor Menino's preferred candidate). Other possible candidates include
Steve Bickerton, president of the Cedar Grove Civic Association; Pamela Smith,
who ran for an at-large council seat in November; Mike Macken, captain of the
city's code enforcement unit; Barry Mullen, who ran against Feeney in the last
election; lawyer Charlie Tevnan, who also ran for Brett's seat; and possibly
LeCain if she's unsuccessful on December 9.
A few of these contenders also considered running against Feeney for the
Senate seat, a testament to just how local this state race is.
Which doesn't augur well for Hennigan, who remains fixed on her Big Question.
On a bitter-cold Wednesday afternoon, dressed in a cream suit and running
shoes, she is visiting the Farnsworth Senior Housing complex, in Jamaica Plain.
She's been campaigning hard for over a month now, and her green Ford Explorer
looks as if she's been living in it, crammed to the ceiling with HENNIGAN '98
signs.
She arrives at a birthday party for one of the residents, a sweet old woman
called Violet. "Happy birthday, Violet," Hennigan says, giving her a hug and a
single yellow carnation. "Twenty-one again, eh? Just like me. That's a lovely
color you're wearing."
Hennigan takes the floor, talking for a long time about education and breast
cancer screening. Her listeners nod politely as they scoop up ice cream.
"And I want you to know I do support capital punishment," she says.
That view is more likely to get Hennigan a good reception here than elsewhere
in JP, where more liberals are concentrated; yet most of the old folks are
unmoved.
But wait: as Hennigan finishes her death penalty spiel, a wiry man in glasses
seems agitated. He raises his hand.
"What do you think of bicycles on the sidewalk?" he says.
Yvonne Abraham can be reached at yabraham[a]phx.com.