The month of August in Central Illinois can be withering. The sun is intense and the humidity chokes the life out of even the hardiest of souls—particularly those who would sit in such heat for more than an hour on a weekday afternoon. In the stillness of the midafternoon heat, you can almost hear the corn growing.
Wednesday, August 8, 2001, was no exception. The media as well as a crowd of about one thousand people were sweltering when I arrived at the Kankakee County Courthouse that day with Lura Lynn and the other members of my family—my six children and their spouses and fourteen grandchildren.
The television cameras were set up—a row of electronic sentinels aimed at a podium that had been pushed to the center of the top step and draped with American flag bunting. A placard with my name graced the front, although there wasn’t a soul present who didn’t know who I was or my job.
The word had gone out that I was going to make an important announcement and now I was ready to face a coterie of state, county, and local officials along with friends and supporters. In fact, I was going to say that I would not run for reelection. My life as an elected official was going to end as governor after winning statewide elections ten times—more than any other elected official in state history. Before I ran for governor, Lura Lynn and I had decided that I would serve only one term if elected. After one term it would be time for us to be together more often with our families and not to spend virtually every day crisscrossing the state or the country. We had kept this to ourselves because I didn’t want to be a lame duck any sooner than I had to be. In fact, it wasn’t until just before I stepped before the podium that I told my staff members of my decision. My lieutenant governor, Corinne Wood, learned of my decision when I said the words aloud.
In the end, I also felt running for re-election would be too divisive for the Republican Party. I had become increasingly progressive and the Illinois Republican Party was veering ever further to the right.
“Thanks for being here,” I said to acknowledge the rolling applause. “It’s hot. Thanks for all the wonderful support.”
“I know we’ve all be sitting around here in this hot weather waiting for some important news,” I said. “I am going to get right at it and get it out of the way at the beginning of this conversation so there isn’t any more to talk about.”
Pausing only slightly, I picked up a white card. “The Cubs won two to one. That’s a final score. And they now lead the division by three games.” Behind me, my family was laughing and in front of me people were clapping and cheering. Hand-held fans fluttered in vain attempts to cool brows coursing with beads of sweat. I moved to the matter at hand.
“In the political season that’s soon to come, some may say the greatest thing I did was launch Illinois First,” I declared. “You all know that’s the comprehensive rebuilding of the state and all its promise. Some may say it was working to open the door to Cuba, a nation that is as close to America as South Bend is to Chicago. And others may say it was acting decisively to halt a series of executions that threatened the rule of law that everyone in this hallowed land of Lincoln holds so dear.
“I don’t know of anybody who wants to execute an innocent person,” I said, prompting the crowd to erupt in applause again. “I leave it to others to determine what is the greatest thing my administration has accomplished. But there can never be any doubt in my mind about the best thing I ever did in my life.” Turning to Lura Lynn, I hugged her close. “And that was to marry this woman right here. We’ve been together for fifty-three years and we are still in love.”
After thirty-four years in public office, I said that I was proud of what I had accomplished but that I still had work to do. I knew I was speaking to more than just the hundreds of state workers, department directors, lawmakers, lobbyists, party officials, and hometown friends who had gathered to hear my announcement. I reminded them that I had taken on and supported controversial issues—including gun control, public funding for abortions for the poor, and gay rights.
“So, I say to you now, this is my record as governor of this state—the record on which I would ask the voters of this state to judge my performance,” I said. “I’ve done my best and I am proud of what we have been able to accomplish by working together.
“I’ve been criticized by some in my party—the hard right wing if you will—for doing some things they don’t agree with. I led a humanitarian mission to Cuba. We pressed Castro on human rights. We also explored new opportunities to feed both the needy and to open markets and minds with the food that grows here in abundance. We brought two ailing children back to the United States to find new hope from the greatest medical system in the world. I would do it again in a heartbeat. It was the right thing to do.
“We tackled these challenges not because they were easy, but because they were hard,” I said. “And I was always grateful you supported me, even when I had tough decisions to make.
“Some of you may recall that in my early days of my term in the General Assembly, I voted to reinstate the death penalty in Illinois. But during the past three years, I have talked with people from all over the world about the shocking condition of our system of capital punishment. We nearly executed innocent men. Not once. But thirteen times in this state. Not once, but thirteen times we almost made that mistake. And I don’t know how that happened. But I knew then as I do now that I had no choice but to call a halt to what was obviously a deeply flawed process.
“And I tell you today that I will continue to lead the fight to reform our criminal justice system. Looking back, it wasn’t a tough decision. The death penalty moratorium was quite simply the right thing to do.
“My conservative right-wing critics deride me for being in favor of equal and fair treatment for everyone, regardless of who they are as a person,” I said. “I am not in favor of special treatment for anybody, but I am for fairness for everybody and equality.
“And I would make all of these decisions again because they were the right thing to do,” I declared. “I can take the heat. But I worry for the Republican Party—the party of Lincoln—under whose banner I have proudly served all of my life. If we are to be successful, we need to listen more and shout less. We need to moderate our positions. People of Illinois want to reach out to their neighbors. They want new markets for their farmers, not outdated ideology. They want compassion for the poor and I learned a long time ago that winning public office is about addition and not subtraction. I would hope that the party folks are listening. We need to be a party of inclusion.
“There are challenges ahead that will require all of our talents,” I declared. “We have a lot of work to do to continue to fight to bring excellence to our schools and to reform the death penalty, to fight for safe neighborhoods, to spark economic growth. . . . These all mark efforts that deserve passion, commitment, and the full attention of the government. The work ahead is important. It’s important to me. It’s important to you and it’s important to Illinois.
“These challenges require serious debate—a dialogue free from rancor or personal attacks about motives or character. And that’s why the governorship should not become mired in the political divisions of a campaign year. And that’s why, over the next seventeen months, I will devote every ounce of my abilities to the challenges that Illinois faces and the duties of high office that you hired me to do.
“And that’s why I will not be a candidate for Republican nomination for governor in 2002. I want to tell you my friends, the hopes of Illinois, the real working of governing still lie ahead. And that’s as it must be. The priority today and in the months to come must be those priorities we work on now. Important challenges remain. They remain for me and for all of Illinois. The journey is far from done. Our pact is a four-year contract to do my very best for the state—to fulfill the sacred trust you placed in me in 1998. This decision today is not about my future. It’s about the future of Illinois.”
I patted the head of one of my grandsons. “It’s about the future of these young people here today.”
And after a reiteration of thanks to various legislative leaders and elected officials, I was done. The speech was over. I loosened my tie. I was drenched in sweat. I had pulled the trigger and now, more than ever, I could focus on the tasks at hand without the distraction of a political campaign. More than ever, I could focus on doing the right thing.
Although Lura Lynn and I had previously decided I would be a one-term governor, this was still a difficult day. But in my heart, I knew this was the right decision. I also suspected I would face much harder choices in the future.
One of the first tasks was to confront the bill that passed overwhelmingly in the General Assembly adding an additional “aggravating factor” to the twenty such factors already in place in the death penalty statute that made an offender eligible for the death penalty. In this instance, lawmakers fed up with the gang-related murders in their districts, engineered a bill that allowed prosecutors to seek the death penalty if a murder was committed as part of gang activity.
I vetoed that bill without a second thought. While it may have been well-intentioned, I thought expanding the reach of the death penalty moved things in the wrong direction. It certainly wouldn’t have curtailed gang activity, I thought. I issued a statement saying that our past history of erroneously sentencing individuals to death was evidence that officials should be questioning rather than expanding use of the death penalty.
“By changing the law to make more and more crimes eligible for the death penalty, we introduce more arbitrariness and discretion, and edge ever closer to our previous capital punishment system that was effectively held unconstitutional by the US Supreme Court in 1972,” I said.
At least one person agreed with me—Chicago democratic senator Barack Obama. “There’s a strong overlap between gang affiliation and young men of color,” Obama declared. “I think it’s problematic for them to be singled out as more likely to receive the death penalty for carrying out certain acts than are others who do the same thing.”
The measure had passed the House 77 to 32 and the Senate 44 to 9. These were vote totals that were sufficient to override my veto. But the veto remained in place. I thought that was a good measure of how many members of the legislature were listening to the concerns I had with the death penalty system and how uneasy they were with expanding it before it could be fixed.
Without the moratorium in place, my veto probably would have been overridden.
And who knows how many more wrongful convictions and wrongful death sentences would have occurred?