Close call

The bout between maverick state rep William J. McManus II and lawyer James Leary is one of the juiciest contests of the current political season

by Chris Kanaracus

AS THE STATE representative from the 14th Worcester District since 1993, William J. McManus II has amassed quite a reputation. He's made powerful and unusual alliances with both House Speaker Thomas Finneran and Governor Paul Cellucci. And for the past two years, he has chaired the prominent House Steering, Policy, and Scheduling committee, which controls which bills come up for debate, and when. McManus, 37, is equally well known in the district, thanks to his high-profile role in projects such as the redevelopment of Union Station.

But his familiarity comes from polarized camps. McManus's supporters say he's an effective, independent-minded legislator who brings home more bacon than his peers in the local delegation. His detractors, which include many area Democrats and most unions, aren't so nice. They say McManus -- a Democrat until he was voted out of the party earlier this year -- is a turncoat, an opportunist eager to trade his vote for a plush job appointment down the line, and a spotlight-hungry self-promoter who ignores his constituents. It was the last straw for these critics when, in October 1999, McManus endorsed Cellucci's re-election campaign. McManus, though, maintains the move was good for Worcester County interests.

Off the record, the outspoken McManus's critics say (occasionally in profane terms) that he's Worcester's biggest political bully this side of Tammany Hall, and they want him out of office by any means necessary.

Democrat James Leary, McManus's opponent in this year's race for the 14th District rep seat, hopes he can kick the incumbent off the playground. Leary, a 33-year-old liberal Democrat, looks strong so far. He's campaigned door-to-door all year and has assembled a large and energetic organization, which includes many of the labor groups who ditched McManus. That backing was enough to defeat former city councilor Timothy J. Cooney in the September 19 primary by more than 1100 votes.

In contrast to some other local races, this campaign is overflowing with dramatic fodder. There's an embattled incumbent up against a fresh-faced, game challenger, harsh words from both sides, a potentially key minority bloc of voters, and inter-party squabbling. And, lest we forget, a slate of meaningful issues on which the two candidates are sharply divided.

UNLIKE LEARY, MCMANUS, has laid low for most of the year, surfacing only here and there to push high-profile items such as a

proposed minor-league baseball stadium in Worcester. As far as actual campaigning goes, McManus did little before his kickoff party at the Manor restaurant in West Boylston last week. Some say keeping a low profile was a shrewd move that allowed McManus to save his energy for the home stretch.

In any case, with about three weeks to go, McManus lawn signs have sprung up, campaign mailings have arrived at district homes, and the first round of debates is about to begin.

For sure, McManus has a solid local base, an incumbent's excellent name recognition and a talent for making headlines. And although he'd spent nearly all of the more than $50,000 he'd raised on campaign preparations, his October 5 fundraiser at the Manor drew a big crowd.

McManus, a lawyer and father of two daughters, was born and raised in the Burncoat Street area. He comes from a prominent political family. His younger brother, Dennis, also a lawyer, is a member of the Governor's Council, and his father is a former probate-court judge and Worcester city councilor.

Still, keeping so quiet so far into a campaign is slightly out of character for a politician who at one point was known as "Billy the Bully." Political observers won't soon forget McManus's notorious May 1998 battle with Worcester Housing Court clerk James Bisceglia over funding for eight court positions. McManus reportedly asked Bisceglia to hire one of his friends. Bisceglia interviewed the individual, but didn't give him the job. Shortly thereafter, state Representative John Locke (R-Wellesley), who chairs the House Judiciary Committee, struck the court funds from the budget. The money was later restored, but most observers felt Locke carried water for McManus, who continues to deny his involvement.

Besides what some see as his bad attitude, McManus has been dogged for years by charges that his friendship with the House leadership and Cellucci are means to a certain end -- a cozy appointed position. McManus's name has been tied to an open court clerk's post in Clinton, a number of judgeships, and even the register of probate's slot at Worcester District Court -- an $88,000 job that's set to go to local lawyer Peter Lukes, a Republican.

But the rumor mill still churns. One local elected official, a McManus critic who asked to not be named, swears a Boston Globe reporter recently told him that a job is waiting for McManus.

That notion, and all the others, make McManus simultaneously laugh and bristle. "All the people that wanted me out were the ones who started their little whispering campaign," he says. "And all the jobs I was supposedly going for, I never applied for and never got. Those critics have been proven wrong."

What's really going on, says McManus, is a vendetta by a small but hell-bent group of local Democrats and special-interest groups, especially local labor organizations. There's certainly evidence to back up McManus's claims. Joe Carlson, president of the Central Massachusetts AFL-CIO, told the Telegram & Gazette that his group will be "actively working to unseat Mr. McManus." Michael W. Coonan, head of the Worcester-Fitchburg Building Construction & Trade Council, has expressed similar sentiments.

The beef between McManus and labor stems from project labor agreements, or PLAs, in a courthouse bond bill in 1998. Union officials wanted every courthouse project costing more than $10 million to require union labor, but McManus voted to set the threshold at $75 million. Although the planned $125 million Worcester courthouse falls above the cutoff, four smaller projects in Worcester County do not.

McManus also irked area teachers' groups like the Educational Association of Worcester with his support for charter schools and teacher testing. Charter schools allow for the formation of new schools with public funding, but without many of the typical public-school requirements.

For his part, McManus says he'd rather talk about the issues and his record. "There are genuine differences between myself and my opponent. If he wants to get started about lobbyists and special interests, then we can do that. But I'd hope we can get past that."

McManus's views are certainly independent-minded. He favors the oft-reviled Cellucci-Swift state-income-tax rollback, from 5.95 to five percent; supports only modifying, and not repealing, MCAS testing; and voted for charter schools -- all traditionally Republican positions. But at the same time, McManus is anti-death penalty and pro-choice -- both traditionally Democratic positions.

Such a willingness to play both sides of the fence, says McManus, has paid off for the district. "I'm not taking all the credit," he says. "But since 1992, over one billion dollars -- with a `b' -- has come into Central Massachusetts."

In talking about his positions, McManus looks back to 1992's Clinton-Gore led Democratic Leadership Committee, the moderate branch of the Democratic Party. "They endorsed TIFs [tax-increment financing plans, which provide tax incentives to development projects], charter schools, ed reform, welfare reform -- a whole host of issues I endorse. But around here, those issues aren't embraced by the old-school liberal elements of the Democratic party."

What's annoying, says McManus, is that he's now being attacked for his positions. "I haven't changed on any of the issues. My campaign literature is all the same as it was back then."

FOR SURE, McManus faces a strong challenge. Leary, a candidate who has already proven his mettle, ran a surprisingly good-willed primary campaign against Timothy Cooney. While it's not certain that Cooney will actively campaign for Leary, Leary says he expects to pick up a large number of Cooney's 1800 votes. It may be a mistake to overstate the importance of Leary's primary win, however. Cooney has a reputation as a lazy campaigner -- a notion that wasn't dispelled this year.

Leary, a well-liked lawyer from a prominent Worcester family (his cousin is the actor and comedian Denis Leary), certainly seems eager to take office. Although this is his first run, Leary, a former assistant district attorney, has worked on other campaigns, including that of city councilor Tim Murray.

In large part, Leary's platform reads like a reverse image of McManus's. He's against the tax rollback, citing the way communities were forced to raise property taxes in the early '90s because of reduced state aid. He opposes charter schools, is against MCAS testing as a requirement for graduation, and against welfare-reform measures pushed by the Cellucci administration.

Personality-wise, as well, McManus and Leary stand apart. While hundreds of people -- including this reporter -- have felt the wrath of the all-business McManus's famously short temper, Leary is jocular, and he seems surprisingly un-coached, given even that this is his first run for office.

Leary, recently married and one of five children, has an unlikely political hero, too. Along with (of course) Ted Kennedy, he points to Irish leader John Hume, who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1998 for his work to resolve the conflict in Northern Ireland. "[Hume's] always been a strong advocate for peaceful solutions," Leary says. "For 30 years, he's been like a rock at that bargaining table. I admire that."

Perhaps it's Leary's unassuming manner that helped attract all those endorsements from local labor groups (of course, Leary received some collateral help from McManus there). Save for the Teamsters, which are still behind McManus, everyone from the pipe fitters to carpenters have endorsed Leary. And they've forked over some decent coin, too -- $7750.

Along with labor, the grassroots organization Neighbor to Neighbor, which focuses on issues of concern to low-income folks, threw some serious weight behind Leary's campaign. Finance reports list cash and labor contributions totaling about $4000. For Luz Ramirez, Neighbor to Neighbor's local coordinator, Leary was an easy pick. "We were in desperate need of true leadership," she says. "[McManus] never had any office hours. . . . [H]e's not available for his constituents."

Neighbor to Neighbor's efforts in Worcester emanate from the Great Brook Valley housing project on Lincoln Street, on the edge of the 14th district. "You know, down here, we try to get low-income people involved in politics," Ramirez says. "[McManus is] available for high-income families but not for us." McManus has shown for some local events, but on at least one occasion, she says, he exhibited a bad attitude.

Beyond what she calls McManus's lack of visibility, Ramirez points to the incumbent's support of the Cellucci-Swift state-income-tax cut and stringent welfare reform, and his opposition to a proposed increase in the minimum wage. All positions, she says, that aren't in tune with Neighbor to Neighbor's views.

So why Leary? His early campaign strategies, which involved visits to the area as far back as April, seem to have paid off. "We interviewed [Leary]," says Ramirez. "He had already been through. He said he'd be here and hold office hours regularly. We need a leader that's willing to work for us."

SO FAR, THOUGH, the focal point of the race hasn't been the issues or differences between Leary and Cooney, but a flap over campaign finance.

In talking with the Phoenix, and to other area media, Leary has made it a point to attack McManus's support base. "It's practically all lobbyists," he says with derision. Well, not quite. According to records from the state office of campaign finance, about 60 lobbyists and PACs contributed $9400 to McManus's campaign -- that's 27 percent of this election cycle's total of $34,730. (McManus carried over $21,320 from his last campaign.)

Worth raising an eyebrow, perhaps. But at the same time, it's an odd thing for Leary to point out when you consider he's received more than that from labor groups and Neighbor to Neighbor, both of which could be considered special interests.

But Leary doesn't see his labor ties as anything to worry about. "I don't see [labor endorsements] as a quid pro quo," he says. "They want someone who's in general agreement with them on the issues. I happen to be. . . . [PLAs] are fair to working people of the district." The same, he says, goes for Neighbor to Neighbor's support.

And Leary aims a parting shot at McManus. "I find it funny that he's crying now, calling [labor] special-interest groups," Leary says. "He didn't call them that when he had their support."

Of course, a centerpiece of McManus's rhetoric is his independent streak, which, he says, cuts to the heart of his difficulties with local unions. "These organizations become special interests when they believe they are entitled to tell you how to vote on a certain issue," he says. "I have clearly demonstrated that they do not control my vote."

Among the lobbyists listed on McManus's finance report, says Leary, are individuals with ties to tobacco and insurance interests -- not necessarily the type of friends you'd want to make in today's political climate. McManus downplays the notion. "I take money from every source: PACs, lobbyists, whomever," he says. "But what I'd like to point out is that more than 500 people from my district have contributed to my campaign."

To that end, it's not connections, but the oldest tool in the book -- local support -- that will win the race for him, says McManus. Contrary to popular opinion, he asserts, 14th District voters are well aware of his record. "There have been suggestions made that I'm not available," the rep says. "Nothing could be further from the truth. Hundreds of meetings have been held regarding the airport, the voke school, and the Holden-Worcester sewer project. I never once saw my opponent at one of those meetings. Not once."

The suggestion that he's a no-show seems to rankle McManus. "For eight years I've sponsored Little League teams at Tris Speaker," he says. "I coach a T-ball team. I coach two Worcester youth-soccer teams. Never once saw him there. These comments about me not being accessible simply aren't true."

And beyond ball-field connections, McManus may not be as on the outs as some would like to believe. Although he's certainly ticked off his share of Democrats, he can still count on allies within his former party. Well-known former state senator Gerry D'Amico and former state Representative Charles Buffone, among others, have endorsed McManus's campaign. Others, though, like US Representative Jim McGovern, for whom McManus was an early supporter, have remained neutral.

Then there was the March meeting in which McManus was voted out of the Democratic Party by committee members. Only about 70 of the 360 members showed to take the vote. According to McManus, a pattern can be found here.

"The people who showed did so to vote against me," he says. "And about six of those who did actually live in my district." Most observers point to Committee chair Bill Eddy as the nexus for anti-McManus activities.

Even the labor factor doesn't seem to bother McManus. Certainly, though, the impact of that bloc in this race can be debated. While the Burncoat/Greendale neighborhood, a Leary stronghold, is strongly blue collar, thanks to the presence of sprawling manufacturers such as Norton Company, other areas -- such as the town of West Boylston -- are more generically middle-class and home to a share of unenrolled and Republican voters.

SO WHILE LEARY'S come across as intelligent, likable and well-versed on the issues, he's only recently come out strong against McManus. Perhaps the biggest challenge for Leary is the fact McManus has been a fairly effective legislator.

One local politico points to the Harriette Chandler-Joe Early Jr. state-senate race as an example of how Leary could stumble, should he strategize without care. "[In radio and print ads] Early talked about local issues, how we didn't get our fair share [on Chandler's watch]. Well, she stuck that ad up his ass," says the observer, referring to radio ads Chandler launched in response, touting a laundry-list of her roles in such large projects as the Route 146-Mass Pike connector, Union Station, Biotech Park, and improvements to Quinsigamond Community College -- all projects to which McManus can rightfully lay some claim. In the end, Chandler won a close race.

This isn't to say Leary has been a total wallflower. For one, he's eager to attack McManus's voting record, pointing to votes on several override motions that he missed in the recently completed legislative session. Those include ones concerning money for prostate-cancer research and early-childhood education -- the latter a subject that McManus highlights in his campaign materials. "I find it interesting that he'd take credit for something he wasn't around for," Leary says.

McManus waves off Leary's charge with a snort. "There are certain votes that have the overwhelming support of the majority, so it is routine, especially for chairpersons, not to vote on a certain matter," McManus says. "The overwhelming majority of the House do not have a 100-percent voting record."

Neither do district voters, who, of course, hold the key to this race. Both Leary and McManus realize the election could hinge on the district's unenrolled voters. As the big day looms, you can bet both men will be puckering up with gusto. For sure, the race is too close to call right now, and at least Leary is content to keep it that way -- no polling is planned, he says, for the final stretch.

The closeness of the contest isn't surprising. If anything, the race represents a clear-cut choice for voters: an old-style, oft-criticized maverick incumbent or a fresh-faced, idealistic young blood. Place your bets.

Chris Kanaracus can be reached at ckanaracus[a]phx.com.