Pot rules create sticky situation for lawmakers
Hynes was a pro, and a friend when it counted
Dozens of state lawmakers are pushing pot regulators to reshape what they called an “aggressive” proposal to roll out legal marijuana sales, joining a chorus of high-ranking legalization opponents, including Gov. Charlie Baker and Attorney General Maura Healey, who are calling for more simplified regulations to govern the industry.
The letter signed by 78 state lawmakers, including state Rep. Hannah Kane, House Majority Leader Ronald Mariano and House Minority Leader Brad Jones, was part of a deluge of written submissions to the Cannabis Control Commission ahead of yesterday’s deadline for comments on its draft regulations.
It’s included in a flurry of letters from agencies under Baker, which have issued harsh critiques of the proposal that, in the eyes of legalization advocates, are veiled attempts to rein in a legal industry they pushed to block less than two years ago.
“We are concerned that the aggressive roll out of numerous licensing categories envisioned by the Commission will jeopardize the successful implementation,” the lawmakers wrote, adding that plans to license deliveronly and so-called “social consumption” businesses should be delayed.
Healey, who with Baker publicly opposed legalization ahead of the successful 2016 ballot question, fired off her own letter yesterday that underscores some of Baker’s own concerns.
“There is a learning curve for everyone, and we suggest that Massachusetts should take it slow and learn from the experience of other states in its initial roll-out of this new industry,” Healey wrote to the commission.
The Charlestown Democrat honed in specifically on reconsidering allowing for home delivery in what’s largely a cash business.
“The fact nevertheless remains that marijuana delivery people, potentially carrying thousands of dollars in cash, will be an attractive target for criminals,” Healey wrote.
The commission hasn’t responded specifically to each letter, and a spokeswoman yesterday didn’t have a count on how many written comments it’s received. But it’s revived a political showdown between legalization opponents and advocates, including the Marijuana Policy Project, which said the letters’ “near carbon-copy rhetoric” stinks of collusion.
Spokesman Jim Borghesani said, “The orchestration of this campaign leaves little doubt that it is an overtly political action amid an election year.”
Jack Hynes was one of the classiest guys I ever worked with.
Jack, who died Monday at age 88, was an old-school gentleman, always understated, never losing his cool.
After he retired, it was always great to see Jack down in Chatham. Whenever I had a book signing at the Yellow Umbrella on Main Street, he’d drop by and we’d catch up on current events. I called him a couple of times recently on his cellphone, but he never picked up. I should have tried harder.
Jack was one of the last living links to several threads of Massachusetts history, one of which was Chappaquiddick. But first let me tell you my most memorable conversation with Jack Hynes.
It must have been 30 years ago. He was the anchor at the old Channel 56 on Morrissey Boulevard, and I was a part-time reporter/commentator. To get to Channel 56 from the old Herald, I had to drive by Whitey Bulger’s South Boston Liquor Mart.
In the warmer months, Whitey and his fellow serial killer, Stevie Flemmi, would hold court out on the sidewalk next to the traffic rotary, so that they couldn’t be bugged.
Anyway, Whitey knew who I was, and he also recognized my car, so whenever I drove through the rotary, he’d always fix me with a long, baleful glare. It was not pleasant, but what could I do? He had police protection and I didn’t.
Needless to say, I never set foot inside the Liquor Mart. If I wanted a road beer after work, I would cut across Preble Street to Andrew Square.
Anyway, one night I am in the Channel 56 newsroom editing my tape package, and Jack comes up to me and says in his usual mild, soft-spoken way:
“Howie, I stopped by the Liquor Mart last night to buy a bottle of wine.”
Now he had my complete attention. He said he’d gone up to the counter to pay, and some thug he didn’t recognize had struck up a conversation.
“Jack,” the plug ugly said, “how come Howie never comes in here?” Jack shrugged, because he was from the old “I-didn’t-see-you-you-didn’t-see-me” school of dummying up.
“Well, listen, Jack,” the guy told him, “you tell Howie, if he ever comes in, we got a fresh dumpster out back just waiting for him. It’ll be another Robin Benedict.”
Robin Benedict was the Combat Zone hooker murdered by her Tufts professor boyfriend. He dismembered her body and tossed it into a dumpster. Her remains were never found.
I thanked Jack for the information. Both of us knew there was nothing we could do. It just showed how brazen the Bulger mob was — one of Whitey’s thugs felt he could casually tell a major Boston media figure, the son of a former mayor no less, that the brother of the state Senate president wouldn’t be averse to murdering another highprofile semi-civilian, namely me.
Those were the good old days all right.
Jack’s connection to Chappaquiddick was through his first TV employer, Channel 5. After Ted Kennedy pleaded guilty to reduced charges the Friday after he killed Mary Jo Kopechne, the Kennedys needed a TV feed for Teddy’s halfassed mea culpa from Hyannis Port. They wanted Channel 5 to handle it because the station GM, Hal Clancy, was an old Joe Kennedy hand.
They also preferred Channel 5 because the anchor would be … Jack Hynes, whose father, John B. Hynes, had in the 1949 mayor’s fight finally eliminated that longtime political thorn in the side of the Kennedy family, James Michael Curley. I think Teddy’s handlers figured he might be slightly less panicked if he were sharing the set with the son of the man who had avenged his beloved grandfather, Honey Fitz.
So Jack Hynes was in Hyannis Port that evening, introducing Ted on national television. Fat Boy read his prepared statement, after which he turned from the first Channel 5 camera to the second one. He then began speaking, supposedly extemporaneously, to the people of Massachusetts, humbly seeking our advice and counsel.
“But actually,” Jack Hynes said, “Teddy had his cousin Joe Gargan beside the second camera, holding cue cards with the entire second statement blocked out on them. Teddy no more ad-libbed his second ‘personal’ statement than he did the first.”
Why are we not surprised? Anyway, Joe Gargan passed on in December, and now Jack Hynes, too, is gone.
But Jack, I’m thinking of you today, just as I used to think of you every night after I finished my shift at Channel 56 and headed down Preble Street to Andrew Square. Let me just say one final time, Jack, thanks for the heads-up.