Hartford, Conn., is a troubled, damnably lovable New England city. It is one of the poorest cities of its size in the country, yet it’s the capital of one of the richest states in the union.
The state once took over the city’s schools. Crime is ridiculous. Gangs periodically rear their ugly heads and make life hell for everybody — including themselves.
Yet is is a tough city to write off. I’ve lived in Connecticut for just shy of 23 years, and I love Hartford — her people and her potential – even though a popular parlor game here is making fun of the city. When something bad or stupid happens, someone will sigh, “Only in Hartford.” It gets so tiresome to hear people talk about how Hartford’s glory days — the middle of the 1800s — are behind her, back when the lure of the thriving and wealthy city brought the likes of Mark Twain, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and a host of other glitterati. Katharine Hepburn was born here. So were Samuel Colt and Noah Webster.
Today, it is a gritty city, with all that that entails.
And yet, and yet.
Hartford boasts prime examples of every piece of architecture from colonial days on. Yes, we’ve lost some buildings to “urban renewal,” but we’ve hung onto some, too. The parks are beautiful. The people are interesting. The art world is active. People who move up and out – a trend since the middle of the last century — have a hard time turning their backs on Hartford.
Cue Mayor Mike Peters, a former city firefighter who worked his way up through the ranks of the Democratic party to become Hartford’s mayor in 1993, and continued his reign for four two-year terms.
And what a reign it was. Mayor Mike loved his city. Because of the city’s charter, he was more of a figurehead, but even without any real executive power, he did things like organize the Hooker (for Thomas, one of the city’s colonial founders) Day Parade, where a city known for its primness (you don’t get to be the Insurance Capital of the World on the strength of your wild, drunken parties) loosened its tie a bit. If a new business opened, Mayor Mike was there. He tore down shameful public housing projects. He fought to keep businesses in the capital city. He was tireless in his cheerleading for his city.
Added to that, you never knew quite what he was going to say, but you could bank on it being entertaining. The local paper, the Hartford Courant (where I work), said in an editorial that once, in an effort to get the notoriously hands-off-Hartford suburban towns to indulge in a little regional cooperation, Mayor Mike said, “You give me a dump truck and I’ll give you a gang.”
Yeah. That sounds like Mayor Mike. When I saw him around town — at fundraisers, mostly — he’d cry out, “Susie Baby!” I have never been “Susie” or “Baby,” but so it was with Mayor Mike. At some function or another — at its heart, Hartford is a small enough town where you can easily hobnob with the mayor — I once introduced him to my son. Though the mayor was surrounded with people who appeared to very much want his attention, Mayor Mike stood for what seemed like a half-hour and told my son all kinds of lies — good ones — about his mother’s work. I left a little embarrassed, and my then-teenaged son left a little impressed by his mother’s accomplishments — puffed up though they were by the effusive Mayor.
He decided not to run for office in 2001. Instead, he threw his energies into other projects, including a downtown restaurant — named, of course, Mayor Mike’s — where he was a frequent and happy host.
But he missed the limelight and — to be honest — it missed him. He talked about making another run for office, but that was just talk. Mayor Mike had been sick for a while with liver disease, and on Sunday, he died of complications from it. Old-time pollsters and shiny-new politicans from every part of the political spectrum mourned.
Hartford will have more politicians and busloads of elected officials — some of them Ivy-League-trained, slick and sleek people willing to make a contribution – but we won’t ever have another Mayor Mike. Only in Hartford. Godspeed to him.
That’s Mayor Mike on the left, with Hedda Lettuce at a Real Art Ways auction, post Peters’ reign.
That was a lovely tribute to “Mayor Mike,” Susan. That’s what I miss most about being a journalist for a daily newspaper – meeting all kinds of interesting characters, getting to know them, quirks and all, and then getting to write about them so others will get a glimpse, maybe, of what they are (were) like.
Thanks for taking the time to share that with us.
Dee
Beautifully written. Mike was larger than life and back in the day was a regular at CARC fundraisers. He was a guy you could count on and now he’s gone. When my friend Bell died, I talk my son that one of the best ways to honor Bell’s memory and life is to always be like Bell, be the best friend you could be to others. Maybe we can all honor Mike in some small way by doing one good thing for or say one good thing about Hartford every day. I’m just sayin’…
Godspeed indeed. He was a wonderful man who never said no to a non-profit who could benefit from his presence and energy. Shawn has a good call here, what a nice tribute that would be.
Susan, I found you through a friend, Dee Andrews. This is an excellent story / tribute to a man who made a difference in the lives of people and of a city. I lived in a small town like that in Florida and now in the southern California desert … makes for an interesting life.
What a lovely tribute, Susan. Thank you.
And i love the photo of Mayor Mike with Hedda Lettuce.
We’ll all miss him terribly. He was a great guy. Took the city seriously, but he always had something hilarious to say. And always had time for people.
wkw