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Thursday, November 18, 2004
A MAINE NOTEBOOK: Jim Brunelle
Copyright © 2004 Blethen Maine Newspapers Inc. | ||||
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Frederick G. Payne, an amiable and inventive political leader from the mid-1930s to the late 1950s -- as mayor of Augusta, governor of Maine and U.S. senator -- is all but forgotten now. A Republican, Payne was elected governor in 1948 in the aftermath of World War II when the demand for government services was on the increase. During the war he had served in what was then the Army Air Corps (later the U.S. Air Force) and was sympathetic to the needs of young Maine veterans beginning to rebuild their lives and families back home. Payne can reasonably be described as a progressive governor who strengthened the role of the executive branch in closely monitoring the activities of the various state agencies, promoting industrial development on a widespread basis for the first time and revamping the state's sagging financial structure. Exhibiting considerable political courage, he was the first governor to propose a broad-based source of revenue in the form of an income tax. Although he was unable to sell that idea to the Legislature -- it would be another two decades before Maine established an income tax -- Payne developed an alternate idea and eventually presided over the enactment of a sales tax. This gave the state a reliable source of revenue that allowed the governor to push through educational subsidies and improvements in numerous state institutions. In this regard, Payne was the first of the modern governors of Maine, laying the foundation for changes in government that followed. Payne's political career was both buoyed and diminished by scandal. In 1940, after running unsuccessfully for governor the first time, he was appointed commissioner of finance and budget director, charged with straightening out fiscal problems stemming from an embezzlement involving a former state controller. That was a scandal that helped his career. But in 1952, as he was wrapping up his second two-year term as governor, another scandal developed that would more or less permanently cast a shadow on his place in the annals of Maine's political history. It came about with the confession by a Maine wine merchant who claimed to have paid thousands of dollars in bribes to state officials to get his products into the state liquor stores. The merchant named the governor as a recipient of some of the money. During an emotional appearance before a special investigating committee at the Statehouse, Payne denied the charges against him. "I sleep with my conscience, and I sleep well," he said, receiving a standing round of applause from spectators as he strode from the House of Representatives, where the hearing was held. Exonerated by the investigating committee, Payne went on to win election to the Senate. Following a single, undistinguished, six-year term on Capitol Hill, Payne left the Senate under something of a cloud because of his long-time personal friendship with a Boston industrialist named Bernard Goldfine. When Goldfine was charged with tax evasion in the late 1950s, it came out that he had been helped in his business dealings with the government by President Eisenhower's top aide, Sherman Adams. It was also revealed that Adams had accepted several personal gifts from Goldfine over the years, most notoriously including an expensive vicuņa coat. Adams, a former New Hampshire governor, was forced to resign because of the scandal. Payne became peripherally involved when it was revealed that he, too, once received a vicuņa coat -- by then an all-purpose symbol of government corruption for headline writers and editorial cartoonists -- from Goldfine. Payne insisted it was all quite innocent and stemmed from a personal friendship with the industrialist that went back nearly a quarter-century. When Goldfine was eventually jailed on the tax evasion charges, he asked Payne to oversee his multilayered business operations in Boston. The former Maine governor loyally carried out that chore for more than a year until the imprisoned industrialist's holdings went into receivership. After that, Payne slipped into obscurity, retiring with his beloved Ella to their home in Waldoboro. His later years were plagued by ill health, beginning with a heart attack and continuing with respiratory ailments stemming from his earlier four-pack-a-day smoking habit. He died in 1978. Payne made a significant contribution to the political history of this state. He deserves to be remembered for more than the scandals that, fairly or unfairly, colored his career. Jim Brunelle of Cape Elizabeth has commented on Maine issues for more than 35 years. He can be reached at jbrune@maine.rr.com. |
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