The Last Day
Today ends an era. Even the Trib, the strongest critic, had to say you deserved respect. I don't agree with everything they write about your administration. They overstate some things to further their political agenda, but the comments about your character are right on point. John H. Stroger, Jr., you are one of a kind, and a kind that with your leaving public life I doubt we will see again. I never wondered where I stood or where you stood on something. And most of the time you were right in the end. You are blessed with many admirable qualities. It was hard when I didn't agree with your position, because you don't change your mind easily, but you have always given me a chance to try and do so. You listen. You care. And the millions of people who benefit from your steadfast dedication to providing for the less fortunate will be cared for through the good works of others in public service for a long time to come. You have changed the lives of many simply by setting a good example.
Chicago Tribune Editorial July 31, 2006 President Strogers Last Day In Office
Monday begins as thousands upon
thousands of other days have begun in this metropolis, with John
Stroger as president of the Cook County Board. Monday night, he'll
begin his retirement. After decades of influencing county government
and the lives of the people it serves, he has been sidelined by medical
issues beyond his control. If John Stroger ever anticipated a career
farewell, he surely saw himself shaking hands with everyone--his
allies, his adversaries, the bypassers captivated if only for a moment
by one of the more genuine personalities in Chicago politics.
But he likely didn't anticipate a farewell. He wouldn't have enjoyed
those elaborate exercises in staged finality. Politics and governance
were his life; an intimate says the prospect of retirement unnerved
him. As Stroger now moves on he'll be busier than he ever expected,
rebuilding his strength after a stroke and, bet it all, charming every
physical therapist he meets. The rest of us--the allies, the
adversaries, the bypassers--will have to wait a while longer for those
handshakes. Even in this awkward moment of silence, we know he leaves
public office just as he occupied it: without a grudge, without a
complaint, and with precious few regrets. Even at his most
stubborn--like an Arkansas mule, he once boasted--he has heard out his
foes. The man does have convictions. Some of the most confrontational
meetings this newspaper's editorial board ever has hosted occurred with
John Stroger at the table, loudly refusing to reduce bureaucracy and
improve services in a featherbedded county government that always took
care of his cronies. The final trajectory of those meetings was
predictable: Stroger agreeing to disagree, firmly gripping every paw in
the room, murmuring that no matter how fierce his intransigence,
"Nothing personal." When any disagreement ends with those two words
spoken honestly--which rarely they are--they ennoble the speaker and
the listener alike. If arguments with Stroger never have been personal,
everything else has: How's everybody doing here? You have two boys,
right? What's up with my old friend so-and-so? The Chicago cliche is
that Stroger, 77, is a relic of an era when taxpayers blindly tolerated
subsidizing the agendas, the patronage and the insider contracts
awarded by the county officials they elected to office. But he's also a
relic of a steelier, less calculating politics in which loyalty, once
granted, endured to the grave. In 2003, he explained in an interview
the most controversial decision of his career: to support Richard M.
Daley in the 1983 mayoral primary even as Harold Washington, a fellow
African-American, entered the race: "I'd made my commitment," Stroger
recounted, "and I had no reason to change." He smiled. Criticism? So
what. Even in his recent absence, the granite constancy of John Stroger
has outclassed the shabby opportunism of the lesser pols who hovered
like vultures over the final months of his career. They conspired among
themselves and misled voters, scheming to embezzle his personal clout
as his grasp on it slipped away. Now he departs, taking with him a
possession that can't be begged, borrowed or bequeathed. What he wanted
most in return for his work was people's respect. He has it. He always
will.




