Grand old man: Remembering Jim Roddey
He was known in Pittsburgh as Mr. Roddey — not because he stood on ceremony, but because he had earned the honor. Few people, and no members of the Republican Party, are as responsible for the Pittsburgh of the 21st century than James C. Roddey. The chief framer of the Allegheny County Home Rule Charter and the first Allegheny County Executive died Thursday. He was 91.
Mr. Roddey was born in 1933 in the mountains of western North Carolina. An accomplished athlete, he entered the United States Marine Corps, from which he retired with the rank of captain and a lifelong identity.
He moved to Pittsburgh in 1979, where he quickly established himself in this famously parochial political culture with his charm, his toughness, his talent and his generosity of spirit. He may be the most prominent and successful outsider in Pittsburgh political history.
Mr. Roddey’s broad cross-partisan respect, earned over the course of several appointments in leadership roles at agencies such as the Port Authority and ALCOSAN, made him the natural choice to shepherd the Home Rule Charter from design to a successful public vote. Then he implemented the charter after winning the first race for the new office of county executive.
He was always a partisan figure — for the past two generations, no one could compete for the title of Pittsburgh’s own “Mr. Republican” — but throughout his time in Pittsburgh he served as a convener and advisor for anyone who asked, and many who didn’t. It would be very hard, if not impossible, to find anyone who asked for his time and did
not receive it, with a smile.
This gentility was a visible reminder of grand old times for the Grand Old Party, and for Pittsburgh’s and America’s political culture — times when there were people you might not vote for, but would still admire; times when opponents could trade debate barbs in the KDKA studio then jokes when the cameras turned off; times when political generosity was rewarded, and cruelty punished.
At the time of his death, there was no longer any place for the grand old man in the Grand Old Party, or anywhere in politics for that matter. And yet the eulogies flooded in — not just polite, but effusive — from across the political spectrum on the news of his passing: County Executive Sara Innamorato, County Councilman and GOP Chairman Sam DeMarco, Lt. Gov. Austin Davis, former U.S. Rep. Keith Rothfus, Mayor Ed Gainey. It should make us all wonder and grieve at what we’ve lost: not just a good man, but a way of doing politics and of living together based in honor and trust.
And a smile. And a story. And, perhaps most of all, as Mr. Roddey knew better than most, a good laugh.