Columnist fondly remembers crooked politician
Former Democratic Auditor General Al Benedict was one of the most memorable Pennsylvania political figures of the 1970's and 80's -- a paradoxical pol who was corrupt, charismatic and charming.
With a few different twists in the road, Benedict might actually have become governor. The McKeesport native was driven to become the state's chief executive and his unbridled ambition eventually proved to be his downfall.
Benedict died last month in Plant City, Florida, at age 74. The former Erie TV news anchor served two terms as state auditor general from 1977-1984. He lost a general election bid for state treasurer in 1984 in a vitriolic contest with Republican Budd Dwyer.
Dwyer is another politician from Pennsylvania's "Hall of Shame," who killed himself at a news conference January, 1987, the day before he was to be sentenced on federal corruption charges related to an influence-peddling scandal.
In 1988, Benedict pleaded guilty to racketeering and tax evasion charges stemming from a job-selling scheme in the auditor general's office and bribery allegations. In a statement at that time, he acknowledged being greedy for power. Benedict served two years in prison before he was paroled.
The intent of the fund-raising scheme in the early 1980s was to fuel Benedict's planned campaign for governor.
In 1984, I spent the night at Benedict's campaign party in Erie. A bar called "The Bum Steer" was the site of his planned victory celebration in the treasurer's race. It proved to be a long night and both a bitter and joyous evening for Benedict and his inner circle.
Benedict's narrow and improbable primary victory that night against several opponents, including now Lt. Gov. Catherine Baker Knoll, came in the face of widely publicized allegations of job selling. Benedict's right-hand man, John Kerr, was convicted later in 1984 of bribery and conspiracy for supposedly masterminding the sale of state jobs.
I covered Kerr's trial in the summer of 1984. Kerr didn't take Benedict down. But while Kerr was free on bail and was appealing his verdict in 1986, Kerr decided to cooperate with the feds. Kerr wore a wire on Benedict, which resulted in Benedict's conviction four years after he left public office.
Election night at "The Bum Steer" seemed to give Benedict new life but it was really the beginning of the end. Half-sloshed by midnight, Benedict got on the phone with the Associated Press and other Harrisburg-based reporters and conceded the election to Knoll.
We hung around for hours afterward. Benedict and his boys continued to knock back the drinks and chain smoke. A despondent Benedict spoke of his ruined dream of becoming governor. About 4 a.m. word came in that some late precinct counts turned in his favor. A jubilant Benedict, who had drunk himself sober by early morning, realized that he had won the Democratic nomination for treasurer.
You couldn't help but like Benedict. He was gregarious, warm and extremely courteous. He had "schmoozing" down to an art. He'd clamp one hand under your arm with a firm grip, before extending a strong handshake. With a velvety baritone voice, graveled somewhat by cigarette smoke, Benedict had that rare gift when he talked to someone of making them think their concerns were the most important thing in the world to him.
Standing one night outside his state committee reception room at a suburban Harrisburg hotel, Benedict held court like a prince. He hugged elderly women with blue-rinse hair and patted the guys on the back. He was the "silver-haired fox" and could easily have passed for a country and western star on his six foot three-inch frame. For many, he was the Democrats' best hope of retaking the governor's mansion after what would be eight years of GOP rule under former Gov. Dick Thornburgh.
Traveling with Benedict one day in 1984, I pressed him about whether he sold state jobs for campaign money, given the Kerr allegations. Denying that as you'd expect, Benedict said that he was, however, a firm believer in political patronage. Even in 1984, that was an outrageous political statement.
Al Benedict looked me in the eye and lied. But I still feel no ill will toward him.
Benedict was a dinosaur, a true holdover from politics of the '60s and '70s, but he was an affable scoundrel.
It's chilling to think he had been the "watchdog" of taxpayers' money for eight years and might have become governor.
