January 14, 1979, Sunday, Final Edition
SECTION: First Section; A1
LENGTH: 1303 words
HEADLINE: A Tale of Three Governors, Or Who's Running the
State?;
Maryland Has 3 Governors, but Who Is Running the State?
BYLINE: By David A. Maraniss and Michael Weisskopf, Washington Post Staff Writers
DATELINE: ANNAPOLIS, Jan. 13, 1979
BODY:
The Maryland governor's mansion stood empty today, as
Acting Gov. Blair Lee III moved out, Gov. Marvin Mandel continued thinking
about
whether to reclaim the ull powers of the office and Gov.-elect
Harry R. Hughes awaited his chance to move in on Wednesday.
Suitcase in hand, Lee left the mansion this morning and
took a final look at the building where he had lived for more than a year.
"Maybe," he
said before slipping into the back seat of a state trooper's
car for the ride to his family home in Silver Spring, "I should put up
a 'vacancy' sign
and see if there are any takers."
Mandel, still savoring the court reversal of his corruption
conviction, spent the day at his suburban Annapolis consulting office where
he
replayed tape recordings of congratulatory telephone calls,
and at his favorite delicatessen where he received old friends.
"There's no hurry," said Mandel, whose term of office ends
Wednesday. "I'm governor now. As far as the powers are concerned, there's
nothing
important [to do ice]."
Lee, who had evidently had his fill of this town and of
Mandel's leisurely attitude, not only abandoned the mansion this morning
but also moved
out of the executive office on the second floor of the
State House. He stripped the walls of personally owned maps and paintings
and headed
back home with a moving van that carried the office's
only desk and green swivel chair.
"Would you believe I really don't know or care what Marvin
decides to do at this point?" said Lee, who had served as acting governor
since
October 1977. "I've finished my work around here."
Hughes, the governor-elect whose preparations for office
have been overshadowed this week by the resurrection of Mandel, stayed
a safe
distance from Annapolis, spending the entire day on the
15th floor of the state office building in Baltimore where he examined
state fiscal papers
with budget director Thomas W. Schmidt.
"We're not coming down (to Annapolis) until Wednesday,"
said Michael Canning, Hughes' press secretary. "There's no reason for Harry
to move in
any earlier than that."
Mandel has had little time to himself since the victory
parties began 48 hours ago, little chance to catch his breath since striding
into his old
State House office yesterday, a colorful retinue of aides
at his side, and taking back his cherished title with the words "I am governor."
Today, after a two-hour breakfast at Chic and Ruth's Delly,
he took a crisp $20 bill from his wife, Jeanne, made one stop at a Main
Street
tobacco shop for "a quarter pound of Unique t'backa,"
and repaired to the quiet of his consulting office down Ritchie Highway
in Arnold.
Inside the narrow two-room office, the man who governed
Maryland for eight years sat at the receptionist's desk, a felt hunting
cap planted on
his head, and listened to a cassette tape recording of
the phone calls that started streaming in shortly after the appellate court
decision was
announced Thursday evening.
The calls of congratulations came in from old friends and
political supporters, an associate judge of Maryland's Court of Appeals
and the
chairman of the state Public Service Commission. None
of the messages seemed to move him more than the simple pleas from people
he didn't
know who asked him to pretend he had never been convicted
in the first place.
"I would like very much to see you move back in the governor's
office," said one caller, who identified herself as a Gaithersburg woman.
"Please
for all those constituents who voted for you, go back
and let 'em have it good."
Another woman caller was sobbing when she finished her
message. "You don't have to call back," she said. "I just want to add my
name to the
people who are so happy."
Mandel, now leaning over the recorder to hear each word,
jotted down the names and phone numbers of every well-wisher. "This is
the fifth one
I had telling me to go back," he said, puffing his ever-present
pipe. "It almost makes you want to cry."
The day began for Mandel with a more public display of
support for him. For two hours, he perched himself in the "Governor's Office"
at Chic and
Ruth's, the first booth in a crowded row, leaning forward
to shake a hand or nodding his appreciation for a kind word.
Jeanne Mandel, the governor's wife and constant companion,
was hardly able to supprrss her excitement two days after the event."I
woke up
this morning and said, 'Marvin Mandel, is this really
happening, or is this a dream?" she reported.
The procession of visitors had continued for more than
an hour when Mandel's 18-year-old stepson, John Michael Dorsey, entered
the
delicatessen, a surprise returned from Fork Union (Va.)
Military Academy, a strict school where no television, newspapers or telephone
calls are
allowed.
"John Michael?" Mrs. Mandel called. "Is that you? How did
they let you out? John Michael, God was sitting on your shoulder. Here
dear, sitdown
next to the governor."
The 6-foot 2-inch, 212-pounder slid into the booth and
kissed his diminutive stepfather, hardly distracting him from a political
discussion he was
having with a reporter. Then, John Michael explained how
he learned of the court reversal and jumped on the next possible bus home.
"I was sitting in my room on Thursday cleaning up the barracks
for Saturday inspection," he said. "All of a sudden I looked at my radio
and it
says, 'Governor Mandel... we went nuts."
The State House, so charged with electricity yesterday
when Mandel and his roguish aides returned to the building they once controlled,
was
quiet and desolate today as Lee moved out and janitors
cleaned up the paper cups ad cigar butts left from the Mandel clan's second-floor
celebration.
The few reporters and politicians who ventured into the
building on this rainy day found little to do except whisper into the telephones
and
develop rumors about whether Mandel might reassume power.
For every source, there was a different report. Mandel's
friends said "yes," the takeover would come on Sunday. Mandel's aides said
"no," he's
not going to do it at all.
The Associated Press quoted authoritative sources as saying
Mandel would not reassume power. The Baltimore newspapers, with authoritative
sources of their own, said that Mandel would be back Sunday.
Moving day was more pleasurable for Lee than he might have
expected two days ago. At that time, he was enraged over a letter sent
from the
Hughes transition office requesting an immediate inventory
of State House furniture and equipment, including the furnishings in Lee's
office.
"I called up there and I couldn't find anybody," he said.
"I asked for Mr. Hughes, Mr. McWilliams, Mr. Canning, and Mr. Feinsten
(members of
Hughes' transition team). Nobody was home.
"I finally got a nice young lady who was almost whimpering
by the time I finished with her. I felt kinda bad about that. I pointed
out that I was
not in the habit of stealing state furniture."
Before closing the door to his office, Lee threw a Baltimore
telephone directory into one of the six boxes a state trooper was lining
up to carry
downstairs. "This," joked Lee as he grabbed the directory,
"is my only offense against the state of Maryland."
His press secretary, Thom Burden, was seen trying to stuff
a brown swivel chair into the front seat of his white Chevrolet. "It's
personal
property," said Burden, who went out of his way to round
up a few reporters to watch him make off with the piece of furniture. "My
wife gave it
to me for my 35th birthday."
Minutes later, two men began marching around the circular
State House walkway, holding a sign that read: "The Fourth Circt Court
of Appeals
was Bought -- Mandel Did It." The men refused to identify
themselves or discuss their protest. "I have no comment," said one.
GRAPHIC: Picture 1, Gov. Marvin Mandel poses in his business
consulting office in Arnold, Md. By Joel Richardson -- The Washington Post;
Picture 2, Gov.-elect Harry R. Hughes: no reason to come
down until Wednesday. By Larry Morris -- The Washington Post