Perzel: Rise and fall of House GOP power broker

HARRISBURG - At 59, John Michael Perzel has lived a life of contradictions.

He was a brilliant political strategist who had to repeat the 10th grade. He was among the state's most prolific fundraisers, but was uncomfortable in crowds.

He went from being one of the most recognizable state politicians - the speaker of the House with aspirations of the governor's mansion - to little-heard-from back-bencher two years ago.

Now, Perzel, who serves on the board of one of the nation's leading private prison companies, begins a fight to stay out of jail.

State prosecutors today charged him with criminal counts in the funding of a software program used in political campaigns in the ongoing Bonusgate probe.

Perzel's road to political prominence started in 1978 when the former dishwasher and maitre d', the son of a waitress and a Linotype operator, captured a seat in the state House representing a blue-collar neighborhood of Northeast Philadelphia.

He steadily rose through the GOP House leadership ranks to become majority leader in 1994 and then speaker in 2003. For a dozen years, he had a major hand in every critical piece of legislation coming out of the Capitol.

During his heyday, Perzel was an in-your-face, bare-knuckled street fighter politician.

"He had a steely, Philly street smart toughness about him," said G. Terry Madonna, a political analyst and pollster at Franklin & Marshall College. "He was a wheeler and dealer of preeminent magnitude."

Longtime Democratic foe, Rep. Bill DeWeese, another former House speaker, once called Perzel "a political pugilist."

How pugnacious? Look no further than an episode that is now part of Philadelphia political lore.

In 2001, Perzel decided on a bold gambit for the state to take over the Philadelphia Parking Authority in a Republican power grab. The move came after a meeting with John Street in which the then-mayor paid more attention to his BlackBerry than to the House majority leader. What Street did, in Perzel's mind, was show a lack of respect for him.

Two years later, Perzel became speaker after the death of his longtime mentor Matthew Ryan (R., Delaware).

When he took the gavel, he promised to be a bipartisan head of the lower chamber. And, to the chagrin of his party, he lived up to that in many respects, allowing major pieces of Gov. Rendell's agenda to become law.

At his height of power, Perzel jockeyed for the title of Philadelphia's most influential state legislator with then-Sen. Vincent J. Fumo, a Democrat who is serving a 55-month federal prison sentence for political corruption.

Throughout his career, Perzel had funneled millions in state projects to his 172nd House District in the Northeast and continues to live in a modest home on Brous Avenue.

A community center in Mayfair and a building on the campus of Holy Family University, based in Torresdale, are named after Perzel.

Perzel and his wife, the former Sheryl Stokes, were an item in high school, broke up and went on to have failed marriages before reuniting. She had two children from a previous marriage, and together they had two sons. All are grown.

Sheryl is battling multiple sclerosis.

In the public's eye, Perzel's stock began plunging after the debacle that was the 2005 legislative pay raise.

Perzel helped orchestrate the pay grab and for months was unapologetic even in the face of fervent public backlash.

Then the political gaffes started coming. In trying to defend the raises, he said that tattoo artists in Philadelphia make more than legislators and that even immigrants cow milkers in Lancaster County made between $50,000 and $55,000. Reporters were later unable to find any who did.

In January 2007, after Democrats seized a one-vote edge in the 203-member House, Perzel was removed as speaker and he was relegated to rank-and-file status for the first time in two decades.

His GOP colleagues created for him the post of Speaker Emeritus. But that ceremonial label has since been dropped.

Since then, Perzel has stayed out of the spotlight, rarely seen outside his district, rarely making headlines.

Until today's news.