Joseph Sabino Mistick: Remembering Roddey's political gusto

It is not often that we are surprised when someone dies at age 91, but it seemed like Jim Roddey would live forever. When Jim arrived in Pittsburgh in 1979, he was a Republican businessman with a Southern accent. When he died this month, he was a true Pittsburgher, a part of the fabric here (even though he still talked funny).

Jim arrived here to run his new billboard company, but very soon he was everywhere. He quickly received plum board and commission appointments from the Democratic leaders of the city and county, including the chairmanship of what was then called Port Authority Transit. And he joined nonprofit boards and hosted what seemed like an endless series of fundraisers.

Those of us who had been working our way up the Democratic political ladder — patiently waiting our turn — saw him as a line-jumper at first. But he ran things so well that we had no room to complain.

In 2000, Jim became the first elected Allegheny County executive, beating Democratic Party powerhouse Dr. Cyril Wecht. Jim said that no one was more surprised than he was by his victory. In four years, he basically invented modern Allegheny County government, establishing procedures and structures that are still in place.

It was a rough-and-tumble campaign, but afterward Jim and Cyril became good friends. When the owner of one of Jim’s favorite restaurants mentioned that he would be catering an event at Cyril’s home the next morning, Jim hatched a plan. He arrived at the Wechts’ door with the caterers in a waiter’s white shirt, black pants and apron, and all the recent political tension dissolved in laughter.

Early in his administration, Jim reorganized various county boards, and when he removed Mayor Sophie Masloff from the Community College of Allegheny County’s board of trustees, he got roughed up in the press. After several days of bad publicity, he wanted to stop the bleeding and asked me to tell the mayor that he would gladly reappoint her if she wished.

When I told Sophie, she paused, then chuckled and said, “Let’s let him twist in the wind a little longer.” When I told Jim what she said, he paused and chuckled, too, and made me promise that I would tell him when the mayor decided that he had twisted enough.

For 20 years, Jim and I were on television together on a little political debate show that became known as “Roddey Mistick,” first at WQED-TV and then PCNC-TV. When it started, the producers were looking for fireworks, and I did my best to deliver, but Jim never took the bait, never raised his voice. Eventually, I came around to Jim’s way of doing things, and our small audience liked how we disagreed without yelling at each other.

Jim practiced politics with gusto — as it should be practiced — and even though he often tried hard to beat my Democratic pals, that never came between us. We both had jobs to do, but we were friends. Jim and I had lunch at least once a month and talked or emailed throughout the week. Jim and Elin and Catherine and I never missed our holiday dinners.

Jim’s life was a master class in civics. The old Marine knew that there are very few political hills worth dying on. And he knew that all of us could always work together for the good of the community, if not today, another day.