When John Adams, the second President of the United States, died on July 4, 1826, his last words were “Thomas Jefferson still survives.” This wasn’t quite right, as Jefferson had died earlier that day. But he wasn’t making a joke: He was making peace with Jefferson, who had been a bitter political rival. With that, tension was laid to rest in Washington. Unfortunately that wouldn’t be the case more than a century later.
In 1932, a Democrat named Clarence D. Martin handily won Washington’s gubernatorial election; he and his running mate, fellow Democrat Vic Meyers, took office the following January. Almost immediately, Martin made enemies within his own party, as he appointed Republicans to cabinet posts in an effort to use bipartisanship to combat the Great Depression. He adopted more moderate policies than many Democrats hoped and earned a reputation for being one of the more conservative members of his party (he was popular with the voters, however, earning re-election four years later).
But those on the more liberal side of the party did find themselves an ally—in Lieutenant Governor Meyers. In general, lieutenant governors are about as powerful as vice presidents (which is to say, hardly at all). As long as the governor was around, Lieutenant Governor Meyers could speak his mind, but he couldn’t enact policy changes. Washington took “being around” pretty seriously, however; when Governor Martin was out of state, Meyers had actual power. He could call the legislature back into session and sign into law anything that they passed that he liked.
In 1938, this is exactly what those more progressive politicians tried to get him to do. In April of that year, Martin went on a cross-country trip to Washington, DC, on state business. This wasn’t a vacation, but it was good enough for those who wanted to push a different agenda. They asked Meyers to call the legislature back into session, which he was willing to do. There was a problem, however: He, too, was out of state. In fact, he had just left for vacation in California. HistoryLink describes what happened next: “[Meyers] caught a train as far as Portland; got a ride from the Portland police to Vancouver; commandeered a state patrol car to Seattle. He needed to be in [the state capital,] Olympia, so the secretary of state could attest his proclamation, so he chartered a plane but arrived after the office had closed for the day. He went back to Seattle and announced over [Seattle radio station] KOL that he intended to call a special session.”
The people in his own state weren’t the only ones to hear this radio announcement: so did Governor Martin. In response, Martin chartered a private plane at his own expense (there were no commercial flights available that late at night), hoping to arrive back home before his second-in-command could usurp his power. But, by the time Martin landed, Meyers had already submitted a proclamation calling for a special session, and it looked like the ruse had worked. The state supreme court thought otherwise. Per The New York Times, the court noted that “Governor Martin’s plane flew across the boundary between Idaho and Washington only thirteen minutes before” Meyers issued his proclamation. As a result, the court ruled, the proclamation was a nullity. Martin also asked the state legislature to change the rules going forward, which they ultimately did.