The first time I saw Willie Brown, he was smiling broadly, attracting inquisitive glances, and wearing a smart Nehru jacket.
“And you count,” he reminded me the other day with a smile.
That was a long time ago — 59 years — when Brown first stood in the state Assembly chamber to be sworn in as a freshman lawmaker.
He was a 30-year-old black lawyer from San Francisco in a strange sea of white men dressed in traditional dark suits, collared shirts and ties.
The Nehru jacket was generally a symbol of countercultural rebellion and, for Brown, a sign of self-confidence and independence.
Brown told me recently that he planned to wear a similar jacket (he now calls it a mandarin collar suit) at one of eight 90th birthday parties being held in his honor this week and later in San Francisco. His actual birthday was Wednesday.
Assembly Speaker Willie Brown, center, with Dianne Feinstein, left, and the Rev. Cecil Williams at a Martin Luther King Jr. march on January 20, 1986 in San Francisco.
(Paul Sakuma/Associated Press)
One thing Brown has always been proud of: her stylish, quality clothing, mostly conventional, but not always.
Brown didn't walk through those big mahogany doors of the Assembly in 1965 just to fit in. He eventually did, but more than that he led, becoming one of the most important political leaders in California history: the first black speaker of the Assembly and, in 1995, the first black mayor of San Francisco.
Regardless of color, Brown's accomplishments would have earned him a prominent place in the history books. He served twice as long as Assembly Speaker (more than 14 years) than anyone else because his colleagues continually re-elected him.
But that first day, many lawmakers rolled their eyes or winced at the different-looking guy in the back row of the Assembly.
“Who is that?” someone asked me.
“That's the guy who beat Eddie Gaffney,” I replied.
Edward Gaffney, then 78 years old, a sweet gentleman first elected to the Assembly in 1940, was best known for two things: Every March, he wore a green derby and led the Assembly in celebrating St. Patrick's Day. And it was a vote loyal to whatever President Jesse “Big Daddy” Unruh wanted.
In the 1964 election, Unruh supported Gaffney against his upstart challenger Brown, who was backed by the political machine of then-San Francisco Assemblyman Phillip Burton.
Once at the Capitol, Brown immediately announced his presence by refusing to support Unruh's re-election as president.
“I was the first [Democratic] “I've never voted against Unruh as president because he had funded the guy who was my opponent,” Brown told me recently.
Brown paid the price. He landed in Unruh's doghouse: with the smallest office and the worst committee assignments.
Assemblyman Willie Brown speaks with Democratic presidential candidate Senator George McGovern on October 27, 1972, in Sacramento.
(Associated Press)
But Unruh and Brown survived. Unruh was also a teacher and Brown a student. A lesson he taught “Big Daddy”: “If I had killed all my enemies yesterday, I would have no friends today.”
They eventually became friends. Unruh acknowledged that Brown was not only brash, but also brilliant, an adjective that virtually everyone who knows Brown uses to describe him.
When evaluating Brown, his roots in rural Texas segregation must be taken into account.
His mother cleaned white people's houses. Willie worked in a barbershop cleaning. The white men tipped him quarters and nickels and threw them into a spittoon. He needed the money and he took it out.
Brown took the first bus to San Francisco the day after graduating from Mineola Colored High School in 1951. He worked in his uncle's illegal gambling house, went to law school and got the best job a young black lawyer could find. at that time: defend the pimps. , prostitutes and drug dealers.
“He was born into a family of smugglers and gamblers, and they outsmarted and swindled them all,” Brown biographer James Richardson once wrote. “He learned the skills of politics from teachers: a couple of guys who knew how to make the system work before it made them work.”
“He has a political mindset that I think is unparalleled,” says Democratic consultant Gale Kaufman, a former Brown adviser and longtime friend. “He is able to see all sides of a problem and think two or three steps ahead.”
San Francisco Mayor-elect Willie Brown is greeted by schoolchildren on his way to inaugural ceremonies on January 8, 1996.
(Andy Kuno/Associated Press)
Brown got into politics at San Francisco State when he tried to elect the first black student body president. There he met John Burton, Phil's brother. Willie and John were elected to the Assembly the same year. John eventually became the leader of the state Senate.
At the time, there were only four black legislators. Today there are 12. In 1964, Californians voted to maintain housing discrimination based on race, something unthinkable today.
“There has been a dramatic change” in racial discrimination, Brown says. Probably more in California than anywhere else, she adds.
Brown failed in his first attempt to become president in 1974, but succeeded in 1980 thanks to Republican help.
Republican Assembly members gave Brown more votes (28) than Democrats (23). In exchange, Brown allowed Republicans to appoint committee vice chairmen and add staff.
“Republicans had been badly mistreated over the years,” Brown says. “Most Republicans had been serving almost as indentured servants.”
But because of his flamboyance, his obsession with fancy sports cars, his flashy clothing and, let's face it, a hint of racism in some voters, Brown was disliked by many who didn't know him, especially Republicans. He was not humble or submissive. However, he was respected and liked by those who worked with Brown, including Republicans. And it was exciting to be around him.
Columnist George Skelton talks with former San Francisco Mayor Willie Brown in January.
(José Luis Villegas / For The Times)
“He always kept his word,” recalls Steven Merksamer, who was chief of staff to Republican Gov. George Deukmejian. “Trust is the currency of the kingdom. If you don't have confidence, you can't do anything.”
Yes, but this “Ayatollah of the Assembly” – as Brown called himself – also became what he acknowledged was “the model” for legislative term limits. In 1990, voters supported term limits to unseat Brown as president.
It didn't help that the FBI had just conducted a massive operation at the Capitol that led to corruption convictions for a dozen lawmakers, lobbyists and staffers.
Ironically, the operation was instigated by Assembly Minority Leader Pat Nolan of Glendale, who convinced the Reagan administration that Brown was a ripe target. The feds never found anything on Brown, but they did catch Nolan, who went to prison.
Politics remains Brown's life and passion. He stays up to date despite deteriorating eyesight due to retinitis pigmentosa, listening to a lot of news on television and talking to longtime political friends.
He believes President Biden can beat Donald Trump “if people just let Biden be Biden. As it has been for the last two weeks.”
How has politics changed? “Politics is no longer dominated by outstanding students. There are a lot of C students now,” she says, explaining that they are more interested in re-election than long-term policy achievement. He believes educators should start pushing for higher political quality.
He believes it was a mistake for governments to close businesses, schools and offices during the COVID pandemic without further debate. “We ruined the economy of our country.”
It seems to me that Brown's secret to longevity and success is that he is constantly optimistic, enjoys people, and loves his job. He is a happy man and makes others happy.
Never throw away your Nehru jacket, Willie. And happy birthday.
