If you don’t live in Boston, today’s death of Albert “Dapper” O’Neil at 87 means nothing to you. I’ll address more on Dapper himself in a moment, but no matter where you live there is a Dapper O’Neil in your city or town.
Your version of Dapper is someone who has been involved with city or town politics his or her entire life. They are correctly labeled as “old school” and often espouse personal and political views that may have been fashionable when your parents or grandparents were young, yet are now hopelessly outdated. While time and politics have evolved, your Dapper O’Neil continues to act as if nothing has changed and is often excoriated for his or her beliefs, and is often labeled a nuisance at best or a roadblock to progress (to be polite) at worst. Yet despite their firebrand and polarizing personalities, your Dapper O’Neil has legions of devoted fans and constituents. These people see your Dapper O’Neil as a throwback to what they consider the golden days and are fiercely loyal, knowing that without their beloved representative (who is often everyone else’s headache) there would be no bastion of decency or contact in City Hall, the town meeting or even Capitol Hill.
Dapper O’Neil, whose obituary is here, served on the Boston City Council from 1971 to 1999. Nobody typified the old Irish Catholic Boston political stereotype better. On one hand if you approached O’Neil for help with a problem, or you happened to be a blue collar Caucasian, you had a friend for life. If you were anybody else, God help you. There was no bigger foe of school integration or gays marching in Southie’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade. If you thought hippies, liberals and abortion were ruining America, Dapper was your man. If you hated political correctness and didn’t think it was inappropriate to say “Nice gams!” to a woman as she walked by, Dapper would like you. Think of Archie Bunker as a city councilor, and you’ve got Dapper in a nutshell.
And yet, despite all this, Dapper also had a heart. He openly acknowledged he could not and would not change with the times. Here is Kevin Cullen’s tribute, which also mentions the Archie Bunker angle. It seems that everyone has two memories of Dapper, and they tend to be one of him screaming at blacks during the busing riots of the 1970s and the other one of his admiration of fellow city councilor David Scondras, who happened to be openly gay.
Dapper’s hero was legendary Boston Mayor James Curley, another Irish Catholic who served time as mayor and in jail (including part of one mayoral stint in jail). Like other legendary Boston politicians – including Billy Bulger, Ray Flynn and Kevin White – he was Catholic first and was extremely socially conservative. And as the 90s went on, Dapper was seen more as an anachronism and throwback. When he finally lost his election in 1999, it was seen as a sign of progress and moving the deadwood out of City Hall. You could hear liberals and immigrants alike sigh with relief.
Dapper’s death, of course, has set off well-intentioned tributes and some additional longing for the good old days when councilors knew all their constituents by name. It’s easy to remember Dapper’s faults. For every chuckle (O’Neil once rented a truck in the early 1970s and threw soap at hippies) there’s a worse embarrassment (the crack about Vietnamese immigrants in Dorchester was disgraceful). But then you also read Cullen’s story about O’Neil helping a Haitian immigrant navigate through Boston zoning laws, and you start changing your mind. You also get the feeling by now that if you had asked City Hall to fill the pothole on your street for a month with no avail, you could get fed up and call Dapper. And you know that Dapper would not only have the crews out there in an hour, but he would also show up, apologize profusely to you and then scream at the crew for your amusement the entire time.
So the reality about these old school politicians, especially as the tributes pile up, is a bit more complicated. Consider the Dapper in your neighborhood. You probably wish he or she would just go away. But if they did, what would happen to the interests of the middle class town residents they champion? And who would you call to get your street plowed or pothole filled?
More Info: How Dapper Got Out the (Female) Vote
Comments on Howie Carr's Tribute: Far better than the tribute itself
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