News

Garber Announces Advisory Committee for Harvard Law School Dean Search

News

First Harvard Prize Book in Kosovo Established by Harvard Alumni

News

Ryan Murdock ’25 Remembered as Dedicated Advocate and Caring Friend

News

Harvard Faculty Appeal Temporary Suspensions From Widener Library

News

Man Who Managed Clients for High-End Cambridge Brothel Network Pleads Guilty

The Style Still Lives

COLLEGE

By Barbara E. Martinez, Crimson Staff Writer

Two summers ago William F. Weld '66 got his face splashed across the front pages of local papers when he plunged into the Charles River after signing new environmental regulations.

Although Weld, now a private attorney, no longer reaps the political benefits of such gubernatorial spectacles, it's still safe to expect the unexpected from this re-headed Fayerweather Street resident.

Weld's dry humility, spontaneous wit and uncanny ability to craft tri-lingual puns were not simply accouterments donned to retain his State House office. They have served him consistently from the Hasty Pudding to his battles on the Hill.

This afternoon, Weld may not take a leap from the steps of Memorial Church, but whatever he does, it will follow a pattern predictably unpredictable.

Man of the 1990s

Weld's six-and-a-half years in the governor's office were a departure from the bedrock of Massachusetts liberalism.

As a candidate, Weld pioneered the moderate Republican platform--stumping for fiscal restraint and responsibility, tough crime legislation and defending a woman's right to an abortion--in two successful gubernatorial campaigns.

This model propelled him into the State House ahead of the well-known Boston University President John A. Silber.

Weld served as governor from 1990 through July 1997. During that time he pleased voters by cutting the state budget without increasing taxes.

"His political profile is just what was called for in the times," says Mitchell Adams '66, who worked on two Weld campaigns, in 1978 and 1990, and is now the Massachusetts Revenue Commissioner.

"He succeeded in combining fiscal conservatism and a socially liberal viewpoint with an absolute perfection in Massachusetts in terms of resonating with the public mood," Adams says.

Weld's small-government philosophy appealed to Bay State residents in 1990. Former Governor Michael Dukakis had left the state, in Weld's words, "a fiscal Beirut." In September 1990 the state's bond rating, the lowest in the nation, dropped again.

Weld then won the November election with a call for entrepreneurial government. During his tenure on Beacon Hill, Weld eliminated a $2.3 billion state deficit and ushered in more than 19 tax cuts for Massachusetts voters.

Seventy-one percent of these voters showed their satisfaction by re-electing Weld in 1994.

Keeping Up Appearances

Weld never let the job go to his head. Habits he has held since his college days--a daily squash match and frequent family vacations--found their way into his executive schedule, even during the first weeks of his heavy-handed budget cutting.

Lieutenant Governor A. Paul Cellucci frequently took over the reins of state government, and rarely heard from Weld, according to The Boston Globe.

During the 1994 gubernatorial campaign, Weld's opponents criticized him for his work ethic--and he has admitted himself that his greatest flaw is laziness.

But his colleagues say when Weld has the rightjob before him, he attacks it with vigor.

"He works like hell," says Gael Mahony, apartner in the litigation department at Hill andBarlow where Weld worked as an assistant and latera partner during the 1970s.

According to Mahony, Weld was fascinated bycases dealing with securities fraud, which got tothe heart of business transactions.

"If there was some scullduggerie, that made itmore exciting," Mahony says. "Those were the onesthat he would dig into with real enthusiasm."

Weld's wife, Susan R. Weld '70, who is aresearch fellow at Harvard Law School, says he isfascinated by the international and financialclients at McDermott, Will and Emery, where he iscurrently employed.

The future governor was first bitten by thepolitical bug during his years at Hill and Barlow.But Weld lost big in the 1978 race for districtattorney--he won only two towns against thepopular Frank Bellotti.

"That was admirable because everybody knew thathe was going to get clobbered and he went inanyway," Mahony says, but admits that thecampaign--which Weld paid for with $200,000 of hisown money--was a good investment for Weld'spolitical career.

"He established himself in the public eye as apromising, interesting guy who had some realbackbone to him," Mahony says.

Weld showed that backbone on the national scenewhen he resigned his governorship last summer tocommit himself to a fight for the Mexicanambassadorship, his second attempt to find a newjob since he won the 1994 election.

In 1996 Weld lost the race for a U.S. Senateseat to incumbent Democrat John F. Kerry.

Adams says this pattern fits Weld'spreferences.

"He likes to campaign more than he doesgoverning," Adams says. "This is a person wholikes to get near the flame. He likes to be nearthe edge. He is risk-prone."

Pushing the Envelope

Weld's unorthodox style was cast into sharprelief last summer, when President Clintonnominated Weld for the Mexican ambassadorship, anomination calculated to curry favor among Weld'sown moderate Republicans.

But the nomination came under fire from thepowerful chair of the Senate Foreign Relationscommittee, Jesse Helms (R-N.C.).

Helms asserted that Weld's liberal stance onmedicinal marijuana legislation would compromisehis authority in pursuing U.S. action in theso-called drug war in Mexico.

As chair of the committee, Helms blocked thenomination from the docket, despite Weld's thenfull-time lobbying on his own behalf.

This fighting spirit is what makes Weld anunconventional politician, and is what Mahonybelieves led seniors to vote for him as the ClassDay speaker.

"He has a different style. He has done battlewith Jesse Helms. He really is sort of in thetradition of Teddy Roosevelt, Class of 1880,Nelson Rockefeller, that wing of the Republicanparty," Mahony says. "And he's a maverick."

A Personal Network

Weld has a remarkable ability to setpriorities--both personal and political--and stickto them, according to Adams.

A few weeks ago, Adams says, Weld dined at hishouse with some of the family and a collegeroommate he hadn't seen in years.

"He was so taken by my niece [Nora], four yearsold, that five days later a beanie baby arrived inthe mail for [her]," Adams says. "He had it in hismind that this was something he wanted to do. [Hehas] a rich mind of capability and of character."

Weld makes sure to follow interests that givehim personal satisfaction. According to his wife,he has lately spent much of his free time writing.

He just finished his first book--a murdermystery called Mackerel By Moonlight--to bepublished in September. The Boston Globe reportsthat the mystery focuses on the life of aDemocratic politician in Massachusetts. Many ofthe characters and scenarios seem to be drawn fromWeld's own life.

The book includes scenes like the poker gamesMahony remembers from Weld's days as a Hill andBarlow associate.

"He had an apartment in the Back Bay and heused to invite us up there," Mahony says. "Wewould play poker with Bill and have a greatevening, a couple of drinks."

Friends say that Weld's personal manner is hismost effective political tool.

"He was all-too effective...Sometimes just inpersonal situations," says former Democratic StateSenator Michael J. Barrett '70.

Barrett refrains from commenting on Weld'spolitical merits, but says he "never doubted[Weld's] character for a minute."

Barrett, who also lived on Fayerweather Street,remembers the eulogy Weld delivered in 1994 forfriend Revere Little '67, a Harvard Square streetmusician, when dedicating a corner on HuronAvenue.

"I can remember Bill Weld standing in a streetlight picking out all the faces in the crowd fromhis college years and from West Cambridge,"Barrett says. "There was no press around, nolarger audience and Weld was being genuine. I wasvery moved by the simple human performance heoffered up that day."

Weld is known for his performances--his diveinto the Charles tops the list, but he is alsoknow for his deadpan routine at South Boston St.Patrick's Day breakfasts and for his early stintas a bunny rabbit in the Hasty Pudding Theatricals.

But friends from then and now say Weld rarelytalks about his accomplishments or his busyschedule.

In fact, according Mitchell Adams, Weld neverwanted anyone to see him studying. He wrote hissenior thesis--on two lines of a poem by SextusPropertius--in two weeks, while starring in thePudding show.

"I have a clear vision of Bill beneath thestage in between acts in his dress sitting in hischair with a yellow legal pad on his kneescribbling his thesis," Adams says.

"It was very important to him to present apersona of 'I never study,'" Adams adds. "That wasnot part of his capability, to complain...but alsonever presenting pride."

Weld is not likely to dwell on politics in hisspeech today. The day is personal, and Weld canrelate to the audience, both as a Harvard studentand a parent.

"His first little son is graduating," SusanWeld says. "That's exciting for both of us."

The Welds and their five children, includingDavid M. Weld '98, have lived on FayerweatherStreet in Cambridge for years.

But his son does not worry about his fathergetting too personal.

"He's a moderately good fellow who can becounted on not to say anything about me," DavidWeld says.Crimson/File PhotoBORN TO RUN: Friends of BILL WELD saythat while his tenure as governor will benefit thestate for years to come, his true love iscampaigning.

But his colleagues say when Weld has the rightjob before him, he attacks it with vigor.

"He works like hell," says Gael Mahony, apartner in the litigation department at Hill andBarlow where Weld worked as an assistant and latera partner during the 1970s.

According to Mahony, Weld was fascinated bycases dealing with securities fraud, which got tothe heart of business transactions.

"If there was some scullduggerie, that made itmore exciting," Mahony says. "Those were the onesthat he would dig into with real enthusiasm."

Weld's wife, Susan R. Weld '70, who is aresearch fellow at Harvard Law School, says he isfascinated by the international and financialclients at McDermott, Will and Emery, where he iscurrently employed.

The future governor was first bitten by thepolitical bug during his years at Hill and Barlow.But Weld lost big in the 1978 race for districtattorney--he won only two towns against thepopular Frank Bellotti.

"That was admirable because everybody knew thathe was going to get clobbered and he went inanyway," Mahony says, but admits that thecampaign--which Weld paid for with $200,000 of hisown money--was a good investment for Weld'spolitical career.

"He established himself in the public eye as apromising, interesting guy who had some realbackbone to him," Mahony says.

Weld showed that backbone on the national scenewhen he resigned his governorship last summer tocommit himself to a fight for the Mexicanambassadorship, his second attempt to find a newjob since he won the 1994 election.

In 1996 Weld lost the race for a U.S. Senateseat to incumbent Democrat John F. Kerry.

Adams says this pattern fits Weld'spreferences.

"He likes to campaign more than he doesgoverning," Adams says. "This is a person wholikes to get near the flame. He likes to be nearthe edge. He is risk-prone."

Pushing the Envelope

Weld's unorthodox style was cast into sharprelief last summer, when President Clintonnominated Weld for the Mexican ambassadorship, anomination calculated to curry favor among Weld'sown moderate Republicans.

But the nomination came under fire from thepowerful chair of the Senate Foreign Relationscommittee, Jesse Helms (R-N.C.).

Helms asserted that Weld's liberal stance onmedicinal marijuana legislation would compromisehis authority in pursuing U.S. action in theso-called drug war in Mexico.

As chair of the committee, Helms blocked thenomination from the docket, despite Weld's thenfull-time lobbying on his own behalf.

This fighting spirit is what makes Weld anunconventional politician, and is what Mahonybelieves led seniors to vote for him as the ClassDay speaker.

"He has a different style. He has done battlewith Jesse Helms. He really is sort of in thetradition of Teddy Roosevelt, Class of 1880,Nelson Rockefeller, that wing of the Republicanparty," Mahony says. "And he's a maverick."

A Personal Network

Weld has a remarkable ability to setpriorities--both personal and political--and stickto them, according to Adams.

A few weeks ago, Adams says, Weld dined at hishouse with some of the family and a collegeroommate he hadn't seen in years.

"He was so taken by my niece [Nora], four yearsold, that five days later a beanie baby arrived inthe mail for [her]," Adams says. "He had it in hismind that this was something he wanted to do. [Hehas] a rich mind of capability and of character."

Weld makes sure to follow interests that givehim personal satisfaction. According to his wife,he has lately spent much of his free time writing.

He just finished his first book--a murdermystery called Mackerel By Moonlight--to bepublished in September. The Boston Globe reportsthat the mystery focuses on the life of aDemocratic politician in Massachusetts. Many ofthe characters and scenarios seem to be drawn fromWeld's own life.

The book includes scenes like the poker gamesMahony remembers from Weld's days as a Hill andBarlow associate.

"He had an apartment in the Back Bay and heused to invite us up there," Mahony says. "Wewould play poker with Bill and have a greatevening, a couple of drinks."

Friends say that Weld's personal manner is hismost effective political tool.

"He was all-too effective...Sometimes just inpersonal situations," says former Democratic StateSenator Michael J. Barrett '70.

Barrett refrains from commenting on Weld'spolitical merits, but says he "never doubted[Weld's] character for a minute."

Barrett, who also lived on Fayerweather Street,remembers the eulogy Weld delivered in 1994 forfriend Revere Little '67, a Harvard Square streetmusician, when dedicating a corner on HuronAvenue.

"I can remember Bill Weld standing in a streetlight picking out all the faces in the crowd fromhis college years and from West Cambridge,"Barrett says. "There was no press around, nolarger audience and Weld was being genuine. I wasvery moved by the simple human performance heoffered up that day."

Weld is known for his performances--his diveinto the Charles tops the list, but he is alsoknow for his deadpan routine at South Boston St.Patrick's Day breakfasts and for his early stintas a bunny rabbit in the Hasty Pudding Theatricals.

But friends from then and now say Weld rarelytalks about his accomplishments or his busyschedule.

In fact, according Mitchell Adams, Weld neverwanted anyone to see him studying. He wrote hissenior thesis--on two lines of a poem by SextusPropertius--in two weeks, while starring in thePudding show.

"I have a clear vision of Bill beneath thestage in between acts in his dress sitting in hischair with a yellow legal pad on his kneescribbling his thesis," Adams says.

"It was very important to him to present apersona of 'I never study,'" Adams adds. "That wasnot part of his capability, to complain...but alsonever presenting pride."

Weld is not likely to dwell on politics in hisspeech today. The day is personal, and Weld canrelate to the audience, both as a Harvard studentand a parent.

"His first little son is graduating," SusanWeld says. "That's exciting for both of us."

The Welds and their five children, includingDavid M. Weld '98, have lived on FayerweatherStreet in Cambridge for years.

But his son does not worry about his fathergetting too personal.

"He's a moderately good fellow who can becounted on not to say anything about me," DavidWeld says.Crimson/File PhotoBORN TO RUN: Friends of BILL WELD saythat while his tenure as governor will benefit thestate for years to come, his true love iscampaigning.

Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.

Tags