TEN

Changes

1981–91

Surprises in life happen; some are wonderful, and some are not. My beloved husband, Sid Cockrell, had been my constant source of love and support for nearly forty years, and when he began having serious heart problems during my third term as mayor, I wanted to give him my full support. He had been so patient during all the years I was in public life, so cooperative and encouraging every time I ran for and held a political office. It was my turn to reciprocate. I decided not to run for reelection in 1981.

I did not want to announce my decision too early, however, and become a lame duck. Henry Cisneros was waiting rather impatiently; he did not want to tread on my toes by announcing his candidacy if I was thinking about running again. I told him I would make a statement soon. First I told my special group of political supporters, which included many of the city’s business leaders, that I would not seek another term.

At that time, if I did not run for reelection, the GGL had a choice of backing Henry or John Steen. John Steen was a fine man and community leader, a respected gentleman in every way. Henry was a young, energetic candidate. Both had qualities to make them excellent choices, and I think the GGL hierarchy had a difficult time deciding which one to back. One would be a more traditional type of mayor, an Anglo business leader like many we had had before; the other was Hispanic and highly innovative and would no doubt have a lot of new programs and ideas bursting forth. The GGL chose to back Henry, and I knew it was the right decision. John Steen was an exemplary man, but Henry could move the city forward in ways it never had moved before.

Henry served four terms as mayor. He was—and is—my good friend, and I felt strongly that it was not my place to hover over him with ideas or advice. He was a self-starter, a brilliant young man who was eager to chart exciting vistas for San Antonio. Of course, I told him I would be happy to help with background on any issue if there was information he did not have; I was just a telephone call away.

I believed that if Henry Cisneros was elected mayor in 1981, he would move San Antonio forward in exciting ways with his energy and big dreams for the city.

Now that I was out of office, I thought Sid and I should do something fun together. We signed up for a Caribbean cruise that began in San Juan, Puerto Rico. When I was a member of the U.S. Conference of Mayors, I had become friends with San Juan’s mayor, Carlos Romero Barceló, who was now the governor. I also knew his mayoral successor, Hernán Padilla Ramirez, and I thought Sid and I could offer to host them both for dinner aboard our ship before we sailed. I put in a telephone call to each man’s office to invite him.

A few days later I was accompanying Henry Cisneros to Austin for a meeting he’d asked me to attend, and I mentioned that I was hoping to see my two friends in Puerto Rico. I told him I had not heard back from either.

“Uh-oh,” Henry said. “You must not know.”

“Know what?” I asked. He told me that Hernán was running as a gubernatorial candidate against Carlos. “Ohhhhhhh,” I said. “I did not know that.”

A week or more went by. About two weeks before our departure, I had a call from Hernán declining the invitation because of a National Guard obligation. While I was sorry to miss him, his call was a great relief. I still had not heard from Carlos, although Sid had mentioned receiving a long-distance call that he had not been able to understand.

We arrived in Puerto Rico and boarded the ship at 5 p.m. I soon realized what that telephone call Sid had mentioned was about. A few minutes after we checked into our stateroom, the purser telephoned to say that the military aide to the governor of Puerto Rico was onboard, asking where the dinner for the governor was to take place. I told the aide that I was delighted to learn that the governor and his wife were coming, then quickly asked the purser to arrange for this exciting surprise. The ship laid on the dinner beautifully, and no one would have known it was planned only a few hours beforehand. The governor and his wife arrived, and we dined on shrimp cocktails and grilled steaks. The ship did not sail until midnight. Our guests were very happy—they had never visited a cruise ship before. And the cruise ship had never hosted a governor of Puerto Rico before; the staff was excited to do so. It all turned out fine, much to my relief!

Because Sid and I loved to travel, when Chip Atkins offered me the presidency of his travel agency, I was tempted to accept the opportunity to work in the private sector. But although I had given a tentative yes, three of San Antonio’s top business leaders asked me to lead an organization they had dreamed up to boost the city’s economic development. Gen. Robert F. McDermott, Tom Frost, and B.J. “Red” McCombs felt that the promotion of economic growth in the city was being compromised; one prospect had recently been lost due to local wrangling. They asked me to accept an appointment as executive director of a new organization, United San Antonio. My love for San Antonio compelled me to accept, and I made my apologies to Chip with a promise to work for him in the future.

At United San Antonio we looked at a range of city issues, including the high illiteracy rate, inequalities related to property values in our many school districts, and the need for college engineering courses at the University of Texas at San Antonio (UTSA), which had been established a little more than a decade before. Getting approval from the University of Texas Board of Regents and the University System Coordinating Board for those courses was not easy, but we prevailed. Henry Cisneros made the final pitch during our presentation in Austin; he was spectacular, and we got almost unanimous approval, with just one vote against us.

The three years I worked with United San Antonio were satisfying. I felt like I had done something constructive, helped create a bridge to the future. When my commitment there was over, I got to realize my dream to run a travel agency. It was a much easier business to run than that of a city, and I enjoyed it. Sid and I took some great trips together and treasured those precious years through 1985.

Travel adventures with Sid in the early 1980s spanned the globe.

My tall, handsome Sid was a wonderful husband, one of the most honorable persons one could ever know. He protected his family, and I always knew he would do the right thing. He never felt the least bit threatened by my public life. I think that takes a man who is comfortable within his identity. Sid had his own leadership roles in the community, and we had a blessed marriage. He loved our daughters. Some people who go into public life don’t have happy marriages, but we had a wonderful one. In February 1986 Sid passed away of congestive heart failure. That was a very hard time for me. There was never anyone else in my life, never of Sid’s quality. After his death I finally started to go out with some gentlemen friends, intelligent, accomplished, thoughtful widowers, including Al Eckhardt, a good friend of Sid’s; Bill Ochse, a businessman and owner of the Saint Anthony Hotel; businessman Walter Corrigan; Norman “Pinky” Hill, former general manager of the San Antonio Transit Company; Jack Spruce, general manager of CPS Energy; Brig. Gen. Robert F. McDermott, president of USAA; businessman Tom Berg, CPS Energy board chair; and Brig. Gen. Julius Braun, all now deceased. I was appreciative of their friendship, but I never met another Sid and I have never been tempted to marry again. I traveled as a widow with my mother, daughters, or friends and continued to run the travel agency for a while. But I began to want to do something new.

I traveled with friends Jane Macon (left) and Patricia Smothers (right) when the International Women’s Forum honored Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher.

I had remained close to Henry Cisneros, and in fall 1988, after some media speculation, he announced that he would not run for reelection. I had been visiting with him in his office before he spoke to the media, and when I left, members of the press were hanging around, asking me if I might run again. As I recall, I responded that if Henry was sure he would not run, I would give it some thought.

I had been surprised by Henry’s announcement. I began contacting some of the business leaders who had been my backers in earlier campaigns and who went on to support Henry when I did not run in 1981. There were some mixed signals from Henry’s political supporters over the next few months, but by now most of his major financial supporters had committed to my candidacy. There were also rumors that Councilman Nelson Wolff might run. But neither Henry nor Nelson did, and I was elected mayor again in 1989.

It proved to be a difficult term. A number of bond issues had passed while Henry was mayor, and San Antonio went into a recession, like many other cities at the time. San Antonio Savings Association went under with serious defaults; many other banks and savings and loans were also having a difficult time. I had inherited most of Henry’s city council, and my style was different from his. Henry was more of a strong leader type, always out in front, setting the pace. I was more of the consensus-building type. It took the council a little time to get used to me, and I worked hard getting used to them.

Lou Fox had been appointed city manager when Henry was mayor, and the two had an excellent relationship. But a new police contract under consideration had become very controversial. Lou Fox, based on his staff’s reports, had announced that the contract, which included additional compensation, would have a $17 million impact on the city budget over the next five years, if accepted. That estimate, however, turned out to be not fully accurate. From the first year to the last, with the compounding effect, it would actually amount to more than $50 million. The city council had agreed to approve the contract; then news broke about the reported discrepancy. The error was blamed on the city manager. The increases for each year had been added together to come up with the $17 million figure, and the council had voted based on that information, not the total compounded impact. The media covered the story in a big way, and Lou was blamed for reporting incorrect information to the council. The issue put a damper on Henry’s last few months as mayor and created distrust among the city staff and within the community. That was the overall mood when I returned to office.

With the city still unhappy about the police contract, there was a second one to deal with. The police contract had come first but had not received the final vote. Now the firefighters contract was before the council. It had gone through the vetting process and been approved in the council’s B Session, but it had not been voted on. I felt that since the police contract had been approved informally by the prior council and just required a final vote, I should honor that commitment, and I took the same position on the firefighters contract. It was controversial among the citizens of San Antonio, but I voted with the council, feeling that we could not approve one contract and not the other. The contracts would ensure stability within the ranks of our police and fire defenders, and while I did not set up the situation, I dealt with it as best I could. Many people were unhappy with us.

Without question, I felt the city manager or his staff had made a mistake, but I knew that overall Lou Fox had built a fine, distinguished career. I knew he had not underestimated the police contract deliberately, though the media was calling for his termination. He resigned a few months later and became the city manager of Lubbock, Texas.

Alex Briseño became San Antonio’s new city manager, and we worked very well together. He ran a straight, sharp office. I admired him very much; he was one of the best parts of my fourth term as mayor. Alex went on to be one of our most outstanding and long-serving city managers.

Another highlight was a visit from a second president of Mexico. In 1991 President Carlos Salinas and about half of his cabinet came to the city as official guests and to tour the Splendors of Mexico exhibit at the San Antonio Museum of Art. We were pleased and honored to show the exhibit in our city, one of only three venues in the United States. The other two were New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

President Salinas was easy to host and was pleased with the extraordinary exhibit. Unlike President Echeverría, who danced to his own tune in a wonderfully unpredictable way, President Salinas was more traditional. During the visit, there was an unhappy surprise, but it was not his fault.

As a matter of courtesy, I had extended an invitation to Texas governor Ann Richards to be an official guest at the exhibit opening, thinking a member of her staff would drive her to San Antonio. Instead, upon learning of President Salinas’s participation, she contacted his office to insist that he come to Austin first to be officially received by her, as governor, and the Texas Legislature. She also advised him that she would be happy to join him on his plane for a continuing trip to San Antonio.

When my staff heard about this, my executive assistant, Shirl Thomas, added a second official car to meet the plane at the airport, and I asked mayor pro tem Nelson Wolff and his wife, Tracy, to join me in serving as official hosts and ride in the second car with the governor.

When President Salinas’s plane arrived and he and Governor Richards disembarked, however, she stayed right with President Salinas and me as we walked to the first car. She pushed her way into the middle of the back seat between the president and me. My staff was dismayed at the break in protocol, and so was I.

We went directly to the museum, where the president of the Museum Association and her board were waiting in a receiving line to greet the president. The museum board had raised a huge amount of money for the Splendors of Mexico exhibit, and I planned to present President Salinas, then step aside to allow Alice Reynolds, the museum’s president, to host him as he toured the exhibit. As we approached the receiving line, Governor Richards again grabbed President Salinas by the arm, rushed past the board members, and entered the exhibit. The museum board and I were trotting along behind them, and the museum people felt that their hard work to put on this wonderful event had been ignored. I was so disappointed in Governor Richards’s behavior because, as a woman, I wanted to be supportive of our female governor. I had never seen her do anything like that. My staff was furious, and for me it was a sad day for the “sisterhood.”

Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip’s visit to San Antonio was a highlight for me in 1990.

A much happier experience with a state visit occurred toward the end of my term. Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip of England came to San Antonio during the queen’s tour of the United States. We worked hard to get on her itinerary. The city had hosted Prince Charles more than a decade before, and there was much excitement when we learned his royal parents would be our guests.

I took the royal couple on a river barge tour, of course, which is always included as a highlight for anyone visiting San Antonio—it’s true for presidents, sports stars, movie stars, royalty, and people like you and me. Like everyone I’ve ever taken on a river cruise, they were enchanted. Next we visited the Institute of Texan Cultures, with exhibits that represent all of the countries that have influenced our multicultural state. The British exhibit was of special interest, of course, and special invited guests joined our entourage for a lovely lunch in honor of the royal couple. My dear friend Rosemary Kowalski, whose catering company had grown to quite an empire since those early HemisFair days, was in charge of the meal, and it was spectacular. Today she laughingly remembers that special day when we were “both at the queen’s elbows”—I was sitting next to Her Majesty, and Rosemary was presenting her with a gin and tonic.

In addition to visiting San Antonio, Queen Elizabeth went to three other Texas cities—Dallas, Austin, and Houston. She concluded her tour by hosting a beautiful dinner at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts and invited mayors of the cities she had visited and their special guests. I asked General McDermott to be my escort. He was a widower, not yet remarried, and was very pleased to go. We flew to Houston in the USAA plane, along with city manager Alex Briseño and his wife, who were also invited to the dinner. The evening was special—I was seated at table number two, between Prince Philip and the famous heart surgeon Dr. Michael DeBakey. Unfortunately General McDermott was seated at a different table, reminding me of those many years ago when Prince Charles visited San Antonio and Sid had to ride in the second car.

Glamorous evenings were just a small part of my mayoral duties. I spent most days and evenings on more serious matters, like approving the city’s annual budget. The city council and I had developed a good working relationship, and we were determined to adopt a realistic budget for 1990. C.A. Stubbs’s Homeowner-Taxpayer Association was very active in San Antonio, constantly complaining about costs and tax rates, and it was promoting a much more conservative budget for the new fiscal year. After lots of discussion at council meetings, I supported the realistic budget, and the association started a petition calling for a referendum. If I had pulled back and supported the really “bare bones” budget, and not supported the majority of the council, I could have avoided the referendum. But I decided to support that majority, and it was an unpopular stand with San Antonio’s voters. I knew the position was risky. I realized I could have helped my own political standing by renouncing the council’s wishes, but that did not feel right. We approved the more realistic budget, and that stance proved costly in the upcoming mayoral race.

During my last campaign there were eleven candidates for mayor, including four council members—Nelson Wolff, Maria Berriozábal, and ultraconservatives Jimmie Hasslocher and Van Archer. I ended up in third place, with Nelson Wolff and Maria Berriozábal in the runoff election. I was contacted later by many shocked voters who told me they had planned to vote for me in the “final” election and had voted in the primary for the other candidate they hoped would be my opponent in the runoff.

Maria was an ardent spokesperson for the poor and disadvantaged. She carried in her heart a deep passion for improving the lives of disadvantaged Hispanics, and I admired her for that. I thought she was so wrapped up in that one cause, however, that she would be perceived as a candidate who could not represent the entire city. Henry Cisneros, on the other hand, had worked closely with Hispanic, Anglo, and African American constituents, considered diverse agendas, and served all citizens. It could be done, and our city needed someone who could unify it.

Nelson Wolff defeated Maria Berriozábal in the runoff and was elected mayor in 1991. I had known Nelson for many years, from his career as a state senator and his years on the city council. I thought he was very bright, and he supported many of the causes that I thought were important.

I admired his many attempts to get a new state constitution, and I find it extraordinary that we still have not done that. We have a very old constitution that has been amended, and amended, and amended—so many times that it is often hard to figure it out. I still believe we need a new one.

Besides the good causes Nelson promoted in the state senate, his work on the city council was thoughtful and solid. He always had interesting ideas and perspectives, and I have always admired and liked him. His wife, Tracy, is also very gracious and talented, and both have been important contributors to our city.

The only election I ever lost was in 1991. I realized that people wanted a change. While I was disappointed to lose, I knew Nelson was a good, honorable person and would work hard as mayor. Some people feel depleted when they lose a political race; I did not. I had done what I thought was best, so the defeat never really fazed me. I congratulated Nelson, thanked San Antonio for the opportunity to serve, and moved on. I knew there were many other ways to serve the city I loved, and I would find them.

Looking back over the years I was on the council and the four terms I served as mayor, I realize that I worked with several city managers. In the council-manager form of government, which San Antonio has, the city manager position is similar to that of a corporate CEO. It’s tremendously important.

The first manager I worked with was Jack Shelley, and I thought he was a very good, competent city manager. When I joined the council, he realized he would need to get used to my insistence on improving the number of board appointments for women and other minorities. He had not thought it was all that important in the beginning, but I’m happy to say he changed his mind.

Good friends and former mayors of San Antonio Henry Cisneros (left) and Nelson Wolff (right) went on to serve as U.S. secretary of HUD and Bexar County judge, respectively. All three of us love our city, our county, and our country.

Jerry Henckel was also a competent city manager, but I was aware of some personal issues that he had that were beginning to be talked about. He was followed by Loyd Hunt, who worked closely with Mayor Charles Becker. He was only in the position for about nine months.

Sam Granata Jr. had been a competent public works director whom I had always liked; he was named city manager when Mayor Becker was still in office. After I became mayor in 1975, he continued to meet with the former mayor, to report on what was going on at city hall. I was concerned, and other council members also became concerned, and his services were terminated. His assistant, Tom Raffety, served for a month or so while we searched for a new manager.

We found Tom Huebner, who was highly professional and a very fine city manager. He came to San Antonio after serving as city manager in Sacramento, California, and was active in the national city managers’ association. For some in our community, his attire was a little too casual. Tom wore a lot of guayaberas, which he thought were appropriate in San Antonio. Many felt he should wear the more formal coat and tie previous city managers had traditionally worn, and there was some criticism about that.

Dress codes aside, Tom was intelligent and effective, and he had to try to learn how to deal with some of our more flamboyant council members, like Bernardo Eureste. I remember receiving a telephone call as I was getting ready to leave for a National League of Cities meeting in Seattle, alerting me that Tom and Bernardo were having a feud. I called them into my office and told them I was aware of their disagreement and that I wanted them to declare a truce while I was out of town. Finally they both sheepishly agreed to shake hands.

In the car on the way to the airport, I got a call from Tom. He said, “Mayor, I don’t think I can live up to the truce agreement.” I was stern and told him they had to behave themselves while I was gone. They did, kind of. Both were strong-minded men, and they never got along well. I think I became kind of a mother figure to most of the council members I worked with, and I often used humor to deflect a difficult situation, especially with Bernardo. I would tease him slightly, urging him to behave like a good boy. Henry Cisneros and Glen Hartman, who had a brilliant mind, were some of the easiest council members to work with, and both were totally supportive of my directives to Tom to look for additional qualified women and minorities to fill prominent city staff positions.

Tom appointed his two assistant city managers, Alex Briseño and Rolando Bono. Both were graduates of Trinity University and had earned advanced degrees in urban studies. They both later became city managers. Alex was our longest-term city manager until Sheryl Sculley was hired several decades later.

One of the best things Tom did was to appoint Jane Macon city attorney. She was a wiz, and she and Tom instigated some important economic development successes for the city, including the Rivercenter Mall project. They used new urban development funding programs like Urban Development Action Grants and built public-private partnerships that encouraged the development of the downtown area.

Of course, as a city develops, all sorts of citizen groups form, and members of those were frequent visitors to council meetings. I found it was interesting to hear from our citizens. The groups were diverse, ranging from COPS to the San Antonio Conservation Society and the Chamber of Commerce. When rate hikes were contemplated for our water and utility services, representatives from those boards would appear to ask the council to approve the increases. And there always were what I called the regular visitors, who liked to speak every week in the special “citizens to be heard” portion of the meeting, letting us know everything we were doing wrong.

I’ve always known it is impossible to please everyone. Early on I established my guiding principles, influenced profoundly by my strong grandmother and my deep respect for all the voices in a room—or a city. As I left the mayor’s office in 1991, I knew I would find new ways to listen to San Antonio’s dreams and that I would continue to work hard to make them come true.