The Pulse: Rizzo: Unscripted, and scripted

Our metallic blue Town Car was parked at dusk on the cobblestones of the 200 block of Church Street in Old City. Inside were four of us, killing time on a fall Saturday before yet another event in a long campaign that was finally winding down.

Soon we'd learn whether the man riding shotgun, 67-year-old Frank L. Rizzo, would win back City Hall from the only man who'd ever beaten him in an election: W. Wilson Goode. Our driver was a former Philadelphia cop named Steve Sulvetta. Behind him was Marty Weinberg, Rizzo's longtime chief confidant. And scrunched up behind Rizzo (on account of his massive frame) was me.

Weinberg had just retrieved the "bulldog" edition of the Sunday Inquirer. The front-page headline cast an immediate pall in the car: "On police, a look at the records of Goode and Rizzo." The corresponding story was written by Pulitzer Prize-winner H.G. "Buzz" Bissinger, whose favorability rating inside our car was about that of our current Congress. His analysis of Rizzo's record was devastating. He quoted a policing expert associated with American University, James Fyfe, who said: "The Police Department served its officers as its main constituency and allowed its officers to go out and bust people and kick a--. As long as you weren't corrupt, anything was OK."

Weinberg was understandably hesitant to show Rizzo the newspaper. When he did, I recall Rizzo saying, "Fyfe, huh? F--king Barney Fyfe, if you ask me."

Three weeks later, Goode defeated Rizzo by two points. He blamed Bissinger for his loss.

And so it was a bit surreal when on Tuesday night, 28 years later (the night of another mayoral election), I found myself at a playhouse on the same cobblestone block - with Bissinger. We were there to see Rizzo, a play by Bruce Graham based on the book Frank Rizzo: The Last Big Man in Big City America by Sal Paolantonio.

That people still care about Rizzo was evidenced by the sold-out run at Theatre Exile. Those lucky to see the show were richly rewarded by a cast that included Scott Greer, who, without imitating Rizzo's mannerisms and idiosyncrasies, nevertheless conveyed the power of his presence and the conflict that surrounded his career. Seventy years was a lot to condense into two hours, but Greer's performance included most of the public memories: Rizzo's improbable rise from patrol cop to mayor, the many controversies of his tenure, the imprint he left on the city skyline, and many of his regrettable lines.

We're nearly a quarter-century removed from Rizzo's sudden passing after an upset victory over Ron Castille and Sam Katz in the 1991 Republican mayoral primary, but no closer to agreement on his legacy. That was made clear by the opinions offered in a postshow "talk back" in which I participated with the cast, Paolantonio, Bissinger, and the theater's founding artistic director, Joe Canuso.

It had a reunion feel. People were gathered to engage in debate about Frank Rizzo - how many times has that happened? I sat with my friend Larry Ceisler, now a public affairs executive who in the '87 campaign had a role in Mayor Goode's campaign that was similar to that which I was fulfilling for Rizzo.

Many members of the audience had their own, personal Rizzo stories, and some were eager to share. And while all were complimentary as to the acting and production we'd just witnessed, the debate about Rizzo's influence on the city divided the audience much as it divided Philadelphia when he was alive. Had Rizzo maintained the city's stability as police commissioner and mayor amid a turbulent time, keeping order when other large towns devolved, or did his brute force and bombast hinder its forward progress?

There's always been a temptation for many to see him as an all-or-nothing proposition. Supporter or opponent? Friend or foe? Guardian or antagonist? His approach did not elicit common ground. Maybe that's a reflection of the way the black and white wards so cleanly divided when Rizzo's name led the ballot.

But neither version is the one I remember. To ride with him in the campaign car for a full year as a 25-year-old law student and campaign aide was to be provided a backseat view of the real Frank Rizzo. As we crisscrossed the city nightly, no subject was off limits. He had a story for every intersection. A bust made. A pothole filled or streetlight repaired. Or often a joke that came to mind. Up close and personal, he was nuanced, complicated, and sometimes contradictory - but never dull. Missing, for me, in the play were sufficient illustrations of what made him tick, what gave the man big enough to wear a size 52 "long" suit his greatest personal satisfaction - helping people and improving the city he loved.

Rizzo's gone, but the stories will last forever. The play incorporated a remake of a Rizzo campaign commercial that I'd watched being filmed. It featured Rizzo, standing in a trash-strewn Kensington lot and attempting a rebrand with self-deprecation, before delivering a concluding line while gesturing toward the debris: "How long do you think I'd put up with this?"

Weinberg didn't show Rizzo the script until he was on the scene because the campaign manager knew he'd have difficulty getting Rizzo to say, "When I was mayor . . . I said some things I shouldn't have said." As predicted, Rizzo refused. So the two negotiated while an expensive film crew waited. Finally, Weinberg prevailed, but only after Rizzo told him, "So you'll know, Weinberg, I meant every f--king thing I ever said." Then he looked into the camera and nailed his line.

Hopefully there will be a return engagement so we can continue this conversation. (Paolantonio, now a national correspondent for ESPN, would only smile at that suggestion.) Until then, we can find consensus only in Greer's final line: "There's never gonna be another one like me."

It was fun to spend one more election night with Frank Rizzo.

Michael Smerconish can be heard from 9 a.m. to noon on Sirius XM's POTUS Channel 124 and seen hosting "Smerconish" at 9 a.m. Saturdays on CNN.