Oral History Interview with Edward F. Prichard, Jr., April 15, 1983

Hellard:—two three four testing. This is tape number ten, side one, in the continuing interview with Edward F. Prichard for the Kentucky Oral History Commission on April 15, 1983. Mr. Prichard when you returned, well, first of all you were talking, as we ended yesterday, Wednesday, about some of the—your first encounters with politics upon your return from Washington. You—you mentioned the first time you’d gone into , you want to relate that, we didn’t get that on tape?

Prichard:Well, the first time I remember going into Woodford County in any political way was in 1937 when I was still [microphone noise] on friendly relations with Governor [A. B. “Happy”] Chandler. And they were having county elections and legislative elections, it was the midterm of the administration, and they were having a rally at the courthouse in . And Happy asked Marion Howard to bring me over to to speak at that rally, and they had a good crowd in the courthouse. We had a lively speaking. That was the first time I remember meeting Paul Jackson. And of course others that I can remember being there were Mr. Drake May, who was then the district highway commissioner, Mr. Jack Corman—I don’t know whether Mr. Jack was the deputy sheriff then or not, maybe, I don’t know when he first went in the sheriff’s office—but he was there, and Mr. Hiram Wilhoite, who was then the banking commissioner, and a lot of the others. Bill Stewart, who I believe was running either for the legislature or the state senate. Mr. George Dunlap, who I believe was in the house then, in the legislature. And that was my first foray into politics, and probably my last up until about [Hellard laughs] 1960.

Hellard:Just as a matter of curiosity what were—what were the trappings then, was this the courthouse room where they had it decorated up, or what was the mode—the mode of those things then?

Prichard:Well, this wasn’t such a major rally that they would have had a lot of decorations, it was just held in the courtroom and, you know, we speakers went up to the judge’s seat and—and stood there and spoke. It wasn’t, you know, it wasn’t—now when—when—when Chandler had run for governor in 1935 and was second primary, and I believe I talked a little about that earlier, he opened his campaign in the second primary, the runoff primary, in Paris. And they had me make a little speech there, of course I wasn’t old enough to vote at that time, but I would say we had eight or ten thousand people there that day. It filled that whole town and it was out in front of the courthouse, that has, you know, that courthouse comes up with a bank series of steps. And this was held on the sort of platform or bank that is below the flight of steps that leads you right to the portico. And we had a huge crowd there that night. Happy spoke, Mr. [Frederick A.] Wallis, who had been a candidate and eliminated in the runoff, first primary, spoke. Those—those days, 1935, the ’30s, you could still draw huge crowds to a political opening. And that was a great big outdoor meeting that, you know you’d have a public address system, but this one was a much smaller rally just in the courtroom. Miss Livia Nave was there, I remember that, and—

Hellard:Now sir, she was the circuit clerk?

:I believe she was at that time.

Hellard:Remained so for ( ) years—

:She—she succeeded a man named Claude Witt didn’t she?

Hellard:Yes sir.

:Who had been in for many years. And I don’t know that Mr. Witt was all that close to , but Miss Livia followed him, and she was the circuit clerk then.

Hellard:Well, ran Miss Livia against—against Mr. Witt.

:Was that it?

Hellard:Yes sir.

Prichard:She had defeated Mr. Claude Witt—

Hellard:Yes.

Prichard:—that’s right.

Hellard:She—I remember her telling me he—he threw the keys on the desk and walked out the day she walked in, he never told her anything about the job.

Prichard:That’s right. He had been clerk for years and—and the county court clerk at that time was Mr. Gray, isn’t that right?

Hellard:Yes sir, yes sir.

Prichard:And he lived a long time after he went out as clerk. I think he retired voluntarily.

Hellard:Yes sir.

Prichard:And—and as I recall he was living up into the ’60s.

Hellard:Now, you returned from—from Washington in the fall of ’45?

Prichard:Uh-huh.

Hellard:What—just so we know what kind of setting we’re in—what kind of lifestyle did you come back to in central Kentucky? What were things like then?

Prichard:Well, of course, it was the period when the war was just over and everybody was coming back home. And the universities, which had, colleges which had been depopulated, were suddenly bursting with new students. Everybody was trying to get an education, particularly servicemen and others who had maybe worked in war industries and hadn’t gone to college, were trying to get in. The GI Bill of Rights was probably one of the most potent forces in life, the society and life of the country at that time. The GI Bill was a major factor in the great burst of prosperity and economic growth and activity that came in the postwar period. And literally thousands of young people, and some of them not all that young, you know, veterans and others, were taking college courses. And had all these temporary buildings out at the University of Kentucky, they didn’t have any dormitories, they had these temporary buildings, student housing of a kind of a rudimentary nature. And then lots of others who weren’t going to college were taking various vocational courses, they were filling the vocational schools, such as they were. And of course, in the beginning, things like automobiles and household appliances, which had been shut down as far as their manufacture and production was concerned during the war, were just beginning to come back, and people were standing in line to get cars. I remember that my father had placed an order for a Cadillac with Dixie McKinley, and was one of the top on the list, and can remember when he finally got that car. It was still—required some doing to build a house because the—the building of houses had been shut down virtually during World War II. And at first you had shortages and scarcities, the rationing was ending. And then everyone had expected a big period of unemployment and depression when the war was over, such as we had after World War I, but we didn’t have it. We moved into a really humming period of growth and prosperity at that time, and that seemed to—that seemed to be a dominant theme at that time. There was—young people were getting married very quickly, having children very quickly, and that couldn’t all take place at once, but it was—it was very evident in the—in those late ’40s. And politics was dominated by the issues of the postwar period of transition to peacetime economy. The state had been unable to build any roads during that period, the state had been unable to build any public buildings or projects during that period. Consequently, the state of Kentucky, like all the states, and many of the other units of government except the federal government, had accumulated very substantial surpluses at that time, and the question was what to do with those surpluses. And some wanted to use them for education, others wanted to use them for constructing public projects, and there was a great demand for highway building. And those were the things I remember in the—in the political side. Certainly there was a great change in the lifestyle, based primarily on the mobility which had occurred during World War II. People who had been raised in rural areas, farming areas, small towns, were transplanted. Some went in the service and were in the Pacific or in the European theater, others had been in the big training camps and army posts, and they were no longer simply acquainted with people of their own background and their own upbringing. They—they—they met new people, and there—seemed to me that was the beginning of the tendency—which has accelerated ever since—for greater mobility, of a more temporary character for everything. The permanence and tradition which had characterized life in this section for so many years began to be shaken up and changed. Not only were people—not only were people in the service, abroad and in the army encampments, but thousands had gone to various war industries. Some in—elsewhere in Kentucky, some in Ohio and Michigan, Indiana, and some of those people stayed and never came back. And so people in Kentucky, perhaps for the first time, had numerous relatives who lived in those—in Detroit, or Toledo, or Chicago, or in Indiana, and who—or in Dayton, and came back for vacations, and people would go to visit their relatives. So there was a greater sense of mobility in them, of broader aspects of life. Many of the blacks who had never lived outside these small towns, and even in these small towns had lived in the little black settlements that were on the edges of these small towns, like Claysville and Ruckerville over at Paris, or like Jacksontown or Woolridgetown or Russelltown over in Versailles. Some of them had worked in war plants or been in the service. And they came back with different ideas about the society and the community. And that set in motion forces of change which have continued ever since. It was really a breaking point, a starting point for much that was new and much that’s come in the last thirty-five years.

Hellard:When you did come back what was your—your civic or community involvement or church involvement? Did that change much since—from the time you left to go to college till you were eligible for civic clubs and that sort of thing? I guess what I’m trying to get at, as a starting young lawyer did you do the normal things that young lawyers do growing up, like the Kiwanis Club,—

Prichard:No—

Hellard:—Lion’s Club or—

Prichard:—not a one of them. I never—I never joined a civic club of that character until I joined the Optimists Club in Frankfort about 1960 or whenever, shortly after I located my practice in Frankfort. I—I was invited to speak at many of them, and was kind of a—I was kind of a public utility as far as being called on to speak at various clubs as civic occasions was concerned. But far as my church affiliation was concerned, I had been reared a Methodist, my—my mother was raised in the Methodist church, although she sang in the choir of the Presbyterian church and really didn’t attend the Methodist church very much, but my grandparents on my mother’s side were very devout Methodists and they had sort of guided me into the Methodist church. But when I had been away, I had not been a regular consistent church attender. And when I came back after the war, I—I wasn’t a regular church goer until I went in the Episcopal church after we were married. I—I had—and I don’t know that—that in that period, I don’t know that church attendance was all that much in vogue. That was later.

Hellard:We talked last time about your—some of the clients you represented. A few—some of those were rural co-ops—

Prichard:That was one of them.

Hellard:—what about—what about you—do you recall the time frame when you returned and you practiced law, what maybe some of your more outstanding or controversial or interesting cases may have been?

Prichard:Oh,—

Hellard:We’re talking about the time frame when you returned until you had your difficulty.

Prichard:—oh, I don’t know, I remember representing the local bus company in the hearings that came up. They had had a—they had had a nickel bus fair, I believe it was, either a nickel or a dime, in—in Lexington for many years. And the local bus company made an application for an increase in the fare I think to fifteen cents or two for a quarter. And we had a—be surprised what a stir that created, we had a very fully-attended hearing up at the city hall here in Lexington before the city commission. And I recall that John Breckinridge represented the protester, and that in retrospect doesn’t sound—sound vary dramatic. I can remember—

Hellard:Did you do much criminal law?

Prichard:Well, not—not an overwhelming amount. There was some. I used to represent some of the local bookmakers when they got in trouble and would try to get them leniency in the police courts. I always had a great fondness for the bookmakers. Many of them were my very good friends, and they really were pretty good fellows. I can remember Ernest Welch here, had a handbook up in the Drake Hotel, Bill Keith and Joe Keith, Chris Burns, several of them around Lexington here, and I’d occasionally represent them. They weren’t big pay, but I sort of enjoyed it. I can remember one criminal case I had, the chief of police here, Austin Price, who was a good friend of mine, was indicted for nonfeasance in office because the grand jury was persuaded by Mr. Bill Townsend that he didn’t send enough police out to deal with the strike of the employees of the bus company. That was—that was another—that was before I represented the bus company in their fare increase. [Hellard laughs] And I remember we got that indictment dismissed. This was just a political maneuver to try to break the strike. But—then there were quite a few people who thought that because I was—had been in Washington that I could represent them in matters involving the federal government. I remember there were several people that had problems with the OPA, [Office of] Price Administration, that employed me to represent them in Washington. And several companies, I remember I handled a big case for, you know, the big distillery.

Hellard:Schenley?

Prichard:No, the other one.

Hellard:Old Crow, Taylor?

Prichard:No, no.

Hellard:Ancient Age?

Prichard:No. You know, the other one that would be as big as Schenley. Oh. They bought out the Frankfort Distilling Company. Oh, it’s on the tip of my tongue. They had a big problem with the Price, OPA, I had—

Hellard:Brown—Brown Distillery?

Prichard:What?

Hellard:Brown?

Prichard:No, no.

Hellard:Well, okay, it’s going to worry both us.

Prichard:Weren’t they Canadian, originally? Anyway, I remember handling some litigation for them. But a lot of it was just ordinary cases.

Hellard:Let’s talk about the [Earle] Clements-[Harry Lee] Waterfield race for a bit. Of course, we talked about this before, what were some of the main issues back then?

Prichard:Oh—

Hellard:Or issues really important in those races.

Prichard:Well, you can never tell. The—the—one of the issues, of course, was the question of—of whether Clements was too much—too much in alliance with the private utilities. Waterfield and Phil Ardery tried very hard to make that the issue, and I suppose that I was useful to Clements in—in blunting that issue because I’d been prominently identified with the co-op side. And we managed to split the support of the co-ops, and I don’t think that ever pleased Phil very much. That’s the first time I ever met J. R. Miller.

Hellard:During that—during that campaign?

Prichard:Uh-huh.

Hellard:Which side was he on, was he active in that campaign?

Prichard:I think he started out for Waterfield and ended up for Clements, and after that became very close to Clements. And, oh, the other issue was that Clements was the candidate of the—portrayed Clements as the candidate of the political bosses and the machine politicians, and Waterfield as a younger, fresher candidate more in tune with the people. Waterfield had managed Ben Kilgore’s campaign for governor against Lyter Donaldson in the 1943 primary and had sort of made the machine and the old politics the issue. So when Waterfield ran, why Ben Kilgore managed his campaign, and they tried to continue that—that line of attack. But a great deal of it was just political factions lining up on one side or the other. Lyter Donaldson supported Waterfield, Courier-Journal supported Waterfield, and Joe Leary, some of the old Chandler crowd, supported Clements. And Clements himself had been in the Tom Rhea-[Ruby] Laffoon faction, so he got a lot of support from that group too.

Hellard:Was there any overall strategy to the Clements’ campaign? Are you privy to that?

Prichard:Oh, I was privy to everything in it. I think his strategy was to—to just get enough—

Hellard:Enough votes to win?

Prichard:—get enough votes [Hellard laughs] to win, that’s right, and raise enough money. And, of course, not nearly the—Clements raised a good deal of money from the horse people, he raised a good deal of money from the liquor people. The liquor people were very anxious to get an amendment to the local option law that allowed cities of the first four classes to vote separately from a county unit so that if a county was dry, you could let the county seat vote wet, as Pikeville has done recently or Russellville or—in those days you couldn’t do that. And so I think Clements, what his commitment to the liquor people was, he said, “Now, I can’t come out and openly support this legislation, but I’ll try to help you pass it in the legislature, and then if you pass it, I’ll let it become law without my signature.” And that happened in 1948 after he was elected. They passed that amendment. And the speaker of the house, who was a Campbellite preacher named [T. Herbert] Tinsley from up in Gallatin County, felt that it would be an embarrassment for him to preside over the house when that bill was passed. He might have to gavel through a few motions. So he had a sudden attack of stomach ache, and [Hellard laughs] they took him to the mansion, and Dr. Baughman ministered to him, and they let a fellow named Hobart Reyburn, who was the Republican floor leader, act as speaker and hold the chair, and he was, I have no doubt, compensated by the liquor people. And he conducted the proceedings, and they passed that bill in the house and senate, and Clements let it become law, and that’s how many of our towns, particularly here in central Kentucky, which were in dry counties, became wet—towns like Shelbyville, Mt. Sterling, Nicholasville. They—I have a notion that Clements, as a result of the contributions some of the horse people made, I think he probably appointed some of the people they wanted on the racing commission, that was considered one of the most prestigious purchasable positions in the state government. I think Clements—Waterfield probably tried to make the education people support him, and some of them did, and then Clements in turn accused Waterfield of making commitments that would cause big tax increases and that probably hurt Waterfield. But there weren’t any dynamic issues other than the ones I’ve told you about which—

Hellard: Well, what about the efforts to involve special groups like the—you know like campaigns today involve senior citizens or small businessmen and all that ( )?

Prichard:No.

Hellard:—didn’t Clements make a special effort to involve the veterans?

Prichard:Well, he did that because he—he had served in World War I and Waterfield had not served in the army, and that was a sort of subliminal issue, yes. Clements I think got very effective support from some of the veterans, you know, he didn’t overtly raise the issue, but they—they used the…

Hellard:…( ) prominence or—or platform or plank or anything ?

Prichard:No, no, what he—Clements had a couple of people who had been veterans, like Doc Beauchamp, you know, who had served overseas in that war. I’m not sure Doc wasn’t in both wars. He was very young in World War I and quite at the upper age limit for World War II. And Doc and some of his cohorts would go in every town and slip some handbills out, you know, which pointed out that Waterfield had not been in the army. And that was very effective against Waterfield.

Hellard:Do you remember a fellow named Howard Boles?

Prichard:Sure I do.

Hellard:He was a, I think, was a very active person in the veterans, or at least that what I was advised some years ago, he was very active in the veterans for Clements, is that accurate?

Prichard:Yeah, he never did—never did have much prominence in politics after that. I remember Howard, he’s still living. I believe he’s originally from up in Hazard.

Hellard:Ten. [microphone noise]

Prichard:If you’re like me, you hate those machines.

Hellard:Well, I’m—I’m scared to death to record the whole damn tape, we’re not going to be able to record ( ).

Prichard:That’s right.

Hellard:We were just talking now about Howard Boles who was active in—in—in Governor Clements’ campaign for governor with the veterans.

Prichard:That’s right. And then Howard would from time to time reemerge in political campaigns, but I never thought he was terribly effective. He was—always seemed to me to be kind of a big feeler, as we use to say. And I really haven’t followed him through the years, but every once in a while he’ll call me. Last I heard his mother was living here in Lexington.

Hellard:Do you recall any particularly interesting stories about the Waterfield-Clements race? Any precinct tales? Perhaps any particularly colorful campaign personalities or—?

Prichard:Well, it wasn’t a colorful campaign. Clements was not a colorful candidate. Neither was Waterfield. There was as I recall a rather light vote in the primary. We still, you know, it took a while after the war, when people had moved around so much and so many of them been away in the service, to get people back to voting. Beginning in the war, voting patterns began to get very different. And we always thought that was one of the reasons that Judge [Simeon] Willis beat Mr. [J. Lyter] Donaldson, was because so many Democrats were away in the service and didn’t vote, even though they had a right to, and that so many Kentuckians—[microphone noise]—were in Detroit and Ohio in war plants and didn’t vote, that that probably was the cause of Donaldson’s defeat. He only lost by 6,000 votes. And in 1947, people had not become immersed in politics. Now the next year in the presidential election, they came in much more and voted, but it was a fairly light vote and not a colorful campaign. Clements’ is—was a highly organized campaign, not professional by present standards, but very professional by the standards of that day.

Hellard:And what do you mean highly organized?

Prichard:Well, he had a good organization of the old-fashioned sort, you know, county politicians mobilized, precinct workers mobilized. Clements had a very wide acquaintance in the state, and his sport was not to go make an eloquent speech, he was a very boring speaker, ponderous and not at all eloquent in the ordinary sense, but he—he was very good at just going into a community and talking to key people, and influential people, and mobilizing them. And he knew how to get to them. And that was really the strength of his campaign. Waterfield tried to make it more populist type of campaign, but he just didn’t quite have the personality to swing it. And Clements had the support of Miss Lennie McLaughlin in the Louisville organization, which was very powerful at that time. Clements had the support of Beauchamp and what was left of the [Tom] Rhea organization in that part of western Kentucky. He had the support of Dick Moloney and the political leaders in this county [Fayette], which was one of his banner counties. Waterfield had—his organization support was mainly what Mr. Donaldson could mobilize for him and what he could do through his contacts with members of the legislature with whom he’d served as speaker. And they had the favorable regard of the Courier-Journal. Clements had the Lexington Herald’s support, Tom Underwood managed his campaign phenomenally. Beauchamp did more to build his organization than anybody.

Hellard:Did Chandler support Waterfield originally?

Prichard:No. He quietly supported Clements. And several of the old Chandler crowd were for Clements. I don’t guess all of them were, but Vigo Barnes was, Joe Leary was, Dan Talbott was. Dan, of course, had become estranged from Chandler by that time. Dan Talbott was very hard up. He had gotten older, was not well, lived over at the Kentucky Hotel. And Judge Charles I. Dawson gave him a sort of a little job with the Kentucky Home Life Insurance Company, and that was enough for him to live on. And he felt that Happy had been ungrateful to him and had not paid much attention to him and so—but he supported Clements. Bob Hensley, who came out of the Chandler crowd, was very active in Clements’ headquarters. That was the first time Cattie Lou Miller got into politics. She had just finished high school not long before, and she came and worked in his headquarters in—in the Seelbach Hotel. And that was the beginning of her long and rather distinguished career in politics and government. The—but it was not an exciting campaign in the sense that people were stirred up.

Hellard:Did you—you—you—I guess you spent a great deal of time in the campaign effort?

Prichard:Yes I did.

Hellard:Were you—were you in Louisville most of the time or—?

Prichard:No, I was in Louisville a good deal of the time, then I went on a sort of a tour with Clements, through a lot of counties where we would have sort of half speaking and half organization meetings. They—they weren’t speakings that drew big crowds, but, you know, where’d you get a hundred or a hundred and fifty people in the courthouse, mainly politically active people, and they would usually ask me to make a speech. And I traveled with Clements and Beauchamp all through western Kentucky and parts of this section particularly.

Hellard:Now at that time was Phil doing the same thing with Harry Lee or did he—?

Prichard:He was his veterans’ chairman.

Hellard:And did he spend as much time on it as you did?

Prichard:He spent a lot of time on it, yes he did.

Hellard:Who tended—who tended the law office while you all were out campaigning?

Prichard:Well, I guess I attended to it more than he did.

Hellard:What about the press and that during your campaign? The Herald was for Clements and the Courier-Journal for—for Harry Lee. Did they have their own press secretaries then as they do now?

Prichard:No.

Hellard:Did they rule the press or—

Prichard:They ruled the press, but of course Tom Underwood was Clements’ chairman and he probably was as much a press secretary as anybody. But—and I don’t know who they had in Waterfield’s—trying to think who were some of the newspaper men of— Waterfield himself was a newspaper man, of course, and Adrian Doren was active in Waterfield’s campaign, Smith Broadbent was active in Waterfield’s campaign, Lyter Donaldson was active in Waterfield’s campaign—

Hellard:of course county newspapers back then carried a lot more weight than they do now.

Prichard:Right. And both Clements and Waterfield cultivated them a great deal. But when you talk about press secretaries, you know, you didn’t have a thing where candidates issued releases every day, call the press and gave them things to print, that wasn’t as highly structured as it might be in a campaign today. Now, they used the radio, I remember making some radio speeches for Clements. And—but there wasn’t any tele—wasn’t any television and—it was—Clements won it handily in the primary. I think he defeated Waterfield by about 30,000 majority, which was pretty big considering the size of the vote.

Hellard:Clements had the support of Kentucky—the Congressional delegation did he not?

Prichard:He certainly had the support of most of them. of course you had a Republican from the seventh district, Jack May had been defeated the year before. But Virgil Chapman actively supported Clements. Nobel Gregory, from the first district, actively supported Clements. Clements himself was the congressman from the second district. I think Emmett O’Neil from Louisville supported Clements. Brent Spence, I’m not sure, he probably was mildly pro-Waterfield on account of Lyter Donaldson. Of course Brent Spence’s brother, Judge Giltner Donaldson, was Spence’s secretary in Washington. And—and the congressmen were not as reluctant to get involved in primaries in those days because the governor was considered to have a lot of power in influencing the congressional race when he was governor. And congressional delegation was very much interested in having a friendly governor, and of course they’d been colleagues of Clements’ in the house. So I, oh yes, several of those congressmen were very active for him and helped him a lot, probably were able to help more than they could today.

Hellard:Let me mention some names to you and get you to respond to them, what your thoughts are about them. Keen Johnson.

Prichard:He supported—probably supported Waterfield mildly or was neutral. He had been the—governor when Clements was fighting against what I refer to as the TVA [Tennessee Valley Authority] or rural electric legislation in his administration. Clements had been on the other side before his conversion and he was very close to Lyter Donaldson, and so we always thought of him as a little bit in the Waterfield camp, although he was not—I believe at that time, he may have been Under Secretary of Labor in the [Harry] Truman administration. And he and Clements became good friends after that though, and Clements supported him for—for the senate in 1960 and—

Hellard:But outside that race and—and simply making state—statements and endorsements he was pretty much out of politics wasn’t he after his term?

Prichard:Yeah, although he did run for the U. S. Senate, what twice, no once.

Hellard:…in 1960, running against John Y. Brown.

Prichard:John Sherman Cooper, he beat John Y. Brown in the primary. John Sherman Cooper beat him in the November election.

Hellard:Was he a man—

Prichard:But—

Hellard:—was he a man of substance?

Prichard:I always thought that he was a—basically a rather weak individual. He—he wasn’t a dynamic figure. He was a very honorable person, turned pretty square corners, but really not very interesting, not very, didn’t have much of a flair, extremely cautious and very decent, wasn’t a man of, you know, powerful intellect, had no dramatic side to him. One felt that he was just a presence and that he didn’t have any major impact on political life once he went out as governor.

Hellard:Did he have much impact when he was governor?

Prichard:Well, any governor has some impact. And any governor is apt to be, or certainly in those days was apt to be, in some ways the leader of the party, and yes, he had some impact when he was governor. But it was mostly a negative impact. There was a don’t rock the boat sort of impact. He—he—he—he had no major initiatives in his administration.

Hellard:What about Lyter Donaldson?

Prichard:Well, Lyter Donaldson was a—

Hellard:These were main prominents in that time, were they not?

Prichard:Oh, yes. Lyter Donaldson was a old-fashioned regional politician, came from Carroll County. Had strong ties with the Democratic Party up in Kenton and Campbell. Was very close to a priest named Father Klosterman, who was very active politically and very influential. He had close ties with a lot of the politicians in Kenton and Campbell counties. He—he was on the highway commission during the Laffoon administration, supported Tom Rhea for governor against Happy. And then when Happy defeated Tom Rhea, and Rhea and Governor Laffoon bolted the Democratic Party to support Judge [King] Swope, Donaldson refused to do that and remained loyal to the party, which meant that Happy at least had a mild benevolence toward him, but they never became close. He supported Senator Barkley against Chandler in the 1938 senatorial primary, which was a dramatic race. And then he managed Keen Johnson’s campaign in 1939. Did a fairly effective job of bringing a lot of the Barkley faction and the Rhea faction into the Johnson camp against John Y. Brown, Sr., then was highway commissioner under Keen Johnson. They—he was always very close to the L&N Railroad, he represented them in his area, was a little of a power broker. And when he ran for governor in 1943, he was considered a rather capable, intelligent fellow who didn’t have a whole lot of imagination about him, who would have made a, you know, governor not unlike Keen. But he lacked any color or drama, and consequently it was not easy to inspire much enthusiasm for him.

Hellard:I’m going to throw in John C. Watts. Was he active in the Clements campaign?

Prichard:Oh, I’m sure he was for Clements. He was very close to Clements. In fact, Clements made him the floor leader in the house of representatives in Frankfort during Clements’ first legislative session, and Clements supported him for Congress when Virgil Chapman was elected—ran for the United States Senate in 1948. John Watts started out as a typical rural central Kentucky politician, county attorney of Jessamine County, very close to Virgil Chapman, that was his closest ally in those days. Then John went to Congress, stayed there and got into a powerful position on the Ways and Means Committee. He was a money man. Made a fortune out of politics. Particularly made a fortune out of being on the Ways and Means Committee. He reputed to have left three hundred and fifty thousand in cash in a lockbox when he died. He and Clements were close. He was the campaign manager for Bert Combs after the primary in 1959. John was, again, not a dramatic, popular figure, but he was very good at cultivating the local sources of power. His sources in the Congressional situation were, of course the—very close to the tobacco people, tobacco farmers, very close to the local courthouse politicians, close to Kentucky Utilities, close to the, what you might call the special interests.

Hellard:Okay, well, the—that election is over with, then, and Clements is governor. What was the legislature like in Clements’ administration, the first term legislature, first session of the legislature?

Prichard:Well, except for a small minority faction, he had it under absolute control in the senate and the house. He had two very effective floor leaders, namely John Watts in the house and Dick Moloney in the senate. Clements had several pieces of legislation that he wanted to get through.

Hellard:Did you work with him after he was elected governor?

Prichard:Yeah.

Hellard:In what capacity?

Prichard:Oh, none—in no official capacity, I was just—

Hellard:I mean as an advisor or—

Prichard:Yeah. He had several things. He established the state police force. He established the two-cent rural highway fund. He established the beginnings of our Commerce Department, what was then called the Agricultural and Industrial Development Board. He built the capitol annex. He—considering that the state had very little money—we had no sales tax, we had no big federal programs, and Clements had in many ways the job of making bricks without straw—he was a right effective governor, so much so that the Courier-Journal, which had opposed him in the primary in 1947, strongly endorsed him in his senate race in 1950. Clements really built a hard-core party organization, political organization, much the most effective one we’ve ever had.

Hellard:Did he make it a conscious effort to bring in new blood, consciously bring in new blood?

Prichard:Why yeah.

Hellard:It always seemed to me ( ) part of the organization ( ).

Prichard:Well now, Happy—this is different, you’ve got to distinguish between Happy’s first term and his second term. In Happy’s first term, he brought a lot of new blood in and—and very good people. Dr. J. W. Martin, Clyde Reeves—

Hellard:Well, wasn’t that essentially the same blood he relied on in his second term? He relied on ( ).

Prichard:Yeah, but they weren’t new blood then.

Hellard:I know it. That’s what I’m saying, ( ) I mean Clements it looks like he kept bringing in new people.

Prichard:Clements brought in new blood in his administration. Of course he brought Clyde Reeves back, but that was new blood for Clements. He brought—he—he—he brought Felix Jarnam into state government, he brought Bob Bell into state government, he brought Cattie Lou Miller into state government. Clements, yes, brought new blood in, and some of the blood Clements brought in has been the backbone of Kentucky government for, you know, twenty-five years. They continued through the [Bert] Combs administration and the [Ned] Breathitt administration. Ed Ferris was another one. Clements—Clements had very able people in his administration, they weren’t all—he had Henry Carter as Banking Commissioner, so they can’t all have been great, but you know, truth is, Clements was the Banking Commissioner. Henry probably knocked down a little on the loan companies when he issued them licenses. Yes, Clements brought new blood in, he—and Clements was, you know, he really ran state government. The—Clements—Clements knew as much about the budget as the budget director did. He would sit down with a budget analyst and go over that portion of the budget, and he could tell you as much about the budget. Clements knew everything that was going on in every department. State government was smaller then. He could—he—he was, you know, there wasn’t much went on in the departments that Clements didn’t know about. And he was a very effective administrator. His style of administration was a kind that wouldn’t work today, but it worked every effectively during the time he was governor.

Hellard:Well, what was his style?

Prichard:Close personal contact with all his departments. A combination of great political acumen, even political ruthlessness on the one hand, and—and a real concept of what was needed in any particular area of government on the other. The state highway patrol had been just a political hack organization for years since it was created under Happy, you know, it was just nothing. Clements built the beginnings of a professional police force in this state, for example. We had never had any coherent efforts to build up the economic base of the state. He established the A & ID Board, Agricultural and Industrial Development Board, and that was the beginning of our economic growth in Kentucky. We had a great need for rural highways in Kentucky. We had lots of dirt roads, and lots of gravel roads, and Clements put through the two-cent gasoline tax, and that funded a whole lot of black-top roads in the rural areas of this state, which was the beginning of tying the state together and ending some of the isolation that we’d had.

Hellard:Wait a minute we’re about out of tape. Go ahead.

Prichard:But I think Clements, and—and—and a way to find out the real truth about Clements is to talk to some of the people that worked under him, because they have continued to have a deep respect and almost idolatry for him, while seeing all the sides of his nature. I mean, they’re not fools. Clements was ruthless. Clements had a certain lack of scruple about him. He was arbitrary, could be, had a high temper. He—he had his faults, but he had many, many virtues. And if you talk to people like Ed Ferris and Felix Joiner and Bob Bell, I just think of those off hand, and many others, you would see the respect and admiration and affection they had for Clements.

Hellard:One two three, testing. This is tape number eleven, side one, interview with Edward F. Prichard, April 15, 1983. Do you think you have to remember—

Prichard:I think you have to remember that when Clements was governor, the whole structure and scope of state government was just much simpler than it is today. We didn’t—Human Resources, we had that in the Department of Economic Security, and what it had was mainly administering some old-age pensions and unemployment insurance. We didn’t have all the social services that we have today, we didn’t have all the federally-funded programs administered through the state that we have today, we didn’t have the federal aid for education that we have today, we didn’t even have as much federal aid for highways as we have today. You had no interstate highway system. You—you—you had a much simpler state government. And within the limits of that scope and structure, he had a remarkable command and had a remarkable effectiveness in running—in running state government. You know, we didn’t have the welfare program that we’ve got today, we didn’t have the food stamps as we have today, we—we had a—we didn’t have the comprehensive care centers, we didn’t, you know, LRC [Legislative Research Commission] was a, you know, a vestigial thing as compared with now. It was—had no staff, you know, you had a director and a small staff, but you had no—no committee system in the legislature. If the budget was introduced on a Monday, it’d come out and be voted on on a Wednesday, go to the other house and be read on Wednesday, and passed on a Friday, and signed by the governor on Friday night. That was the way you passed the budget. It was passed without any amendments, with very little debate.

Hellard:Well, what kind of—

Prichard:Legislation was passed pretty much on the word of the lower of the first—then called the first—first floor I guess—no, where was the governor’s office then? Wasn’t on the first floor, it was on the second, wasn’t it?

Hellard:Well, I don’t know I always assumed it was on the first floor.

Prichard:Oh no, it was either on the third or the second. Where’s the State Reception Room?

Hellard:Second.

Prichard:That’s where the governor’s office was, right next to the State Reception Room. because the State Reception Room was suppose to be a part of the governor’s office. The first governor I remember in the State Reception Room was Governor [Flem D.] Sampson. When I was probably, you know, thirteen, fourteen years old, school children would go to Frankfort to see the sights, and we went in the State Reception Room and Sampson came in with his secretary, and he had people waiting all around to see him and he’d go along and see people and hear what they wanted and his secretary would make notes, and that’s the way he saw people rather than by their having appointments in the office. And that’s what the State Reception Room, in part, was for, where people would go and the governor would have certain hours when he went there to receive people. And—so most of the legislation came down from the second floor and was passed with damn few amendments.

Hellard:What—what sorts of things did—did Governor Clements call on you for advice?

Prichard:Well, I worked with him on the legislation that created LRC. I worked on that. Worked with him on the legislation creating the state police force, the rural highway legislation, Agricultural and Industrial Board. I worked with him, particularly in the first session, I worked on—second session I was beginning to be in trouble, wasn’t as available or as that much interested—but I worked with him quite a lot. Worked with him in the 1948 campaign. Went with him to the Democratic National Convention in 1948. I was on the platform committee where we had the fight over the civil rights plan. And that was, as I said, in Philadelphia. And Philadelphia, you know, there was great hesitancy about Truman’s chances, a great feeling that Truman couldn’t win, and everybody went to Philadelphia in a mood of defeatism. And we were, you know, we—we thought we’d have a better chance to win the presidential race if we could get [Alben] Barkley as the candidate instead of Truman, but that was obviously impossible. Truman had enough power to control that convention, as any incumbent president would. There were even a fraction of people led by Claude Pepper who wanted to run [Dwight D.] Eisenhower on the Democratic ticket. But when Barkley made that great keynote speech the opening night, it electrified that crowd and began to turn people around. Now, it didn’t make Barkley a presidential candidate, but we began to think then that his chances of being the vice presidential candidate were good. And Clements and I went in a little dining room down in the basement of the hotel, and I wrote a statement on the back of an envelope for Clements to issue in which we said we were going to put Barkley in nomination for vice president. And we went up the next morning after that keynote speech. And Barkley was still asleep, and he got up full of piss and vinegar. And we told him what we were going to do, and he didn’t try to stop us. And of course it ended up with Barkley’s being nominated unanimously. Truman had fooled around with Justice [William O.] Douglas and somebody else he had talked about, but none of them got off the ground except Barkley.

Hellard:Did Truman want Barkley, or was he kind of forced on him?

Prichard:He wasn’t Barkley’s first choice. I mean Barkley wasn’t his first choice. Barkley really thought Truman ought to get out of the presidential race and let him be the nominee. He told us that that morning; said, “If he was really a big man, he’d get out.” [Hellard laughs]

Hellard:I guess ( ) always depends on which side of the fence you’re on.

Prichard:Oh, exactly. But I do think that—that Barkley was a natural. And I think being on the ticket with Truman probably helped Truman, and—and I’m not sure it didn’t make a real difference in that year. I think Barkley was a big—I think Barkley was a big asset to that ticket.

Hellard:( )

Prichard:All right, let me undo this. Of course, Truman—in 1948 Clements’ big problem was [Virgil] Chapman. Chapman wanted to run for the Senate, and my opinion is Clements was committed to back him for the Senate as a result of his support of Clements in the 1948—in the 1947 primary. Chapman was very unpopular with labor, very unpopular with the blacks, very unpopular with the sea green Roosevelt Democrats, who regarded him as a kind of a southern reactionary, but his—he had the support of the Clements’ administration in the primary. John Y. Brown ran against him. And John Y. Brown was considered a, you know, thread-bare candidate, had run by that time four, five or six times, had no money and no organization, and Chapman beat him. And then [John Sherman] Cooper was the, of course, Republican nominee for reelection, he having been elected to the senate in ’46—I told you about that little race last time. And Cooper ran 100,000 votes ahead of the ticket, and Chapman still beat him. Truman carried the state 125,000 majority, and Chapman had 20,000 majority. And Clements was trying very hard to get—I can remember on the train when Truman went through the state, I was on the train with Truman and Clements, went clear through the C&O, Ashland, no Cincinnati, that’s where it was, down to Lexington—let’s see Cincinnati to Maysville to Lexington, no Cincinnati to Maysville to Ashland to Lexington to Louisville through Frankfort. And that’s when I first began to believe Truman could win, because he was drawing these huge crowds, you know, he was just—he came through Lexington here, and there must have been ten, twelve, fifteen thousand people out there, just at the train. And Chapman was on the train and Truman was and—Truman and Clements were trying to get him to endorse the Democratic platform which came out against the Taft-Hartley Labor Law, and some of those things, and for some civil rights legislation. And Chapman kept refusing and refusing and Clements finally walked out of the Pullman car and said, “Goddamnit you son of a bitch, paddle your own canoe.” But he didn’t leave him, and as a result of Truman and Barkley’s big majority, Chapman was—Chapman was elected. Didn’t make a damn bit of difference how he voted on those laws though.

Hellard:Here you go, go ahead. Well, Governor Clements had a—had a reputation for being a rather abrupt man when his patience was tried. Was that—

Prichard:That was an accurate reputation. He had a terrible temper. He’d shake people.

Hellard:Actually shake them?

Prichard:Yeah. I can remember once out Miss Hogues’, you remember—you’ve heard of Miss Hogues’?

Hellard:Yes sir.

Prichard:That’s where they all use to eat, daddy and Clements and Dick Moloney and all their cronies. They were out there one night and there had been a bill in the—in the session to repeal the three-day marriage law, you know what I mean?

Hellard:Yes sir.

Prichard:The county clerks from the river counties were sponsoring the bill because they thought it lost them business. And one of the county clerks was most active in supporting the bill was a county clerk from Henderson named Billy McClure. Billy was a great friend of Clements, but he wanted to repeal the three-day marriage law. And Clements, you know Clements really tried to be on the right side of a lot of issues and Clements thought it would be just terrible. And all of his people like doctors Lillian South, you know, in the Health Department got on him, and Clements determined to beat that bill to repeal the three-day marriage law. But one of the senators that was kind of wobbly on it was Senator [John] Stanley Hoffman from Henderson, and who was also a close friend of Clements.

Hellard:Was that Judge Hoffman’s daddy?

Prichard:He’s John Stanley’s father, that’s right, still living Stanley is. And we were sitting out to Miss Hogues’ one night, and Stanley Hoffman, who really had been against Clements and for repealing that law, but came along when they mobilized the ranks, you know, and—and supported Clements. But he made some little joke about it, and Clements jumped up and grabbed him by the lapels and started shaking him and saying, “Goddamn you.” And Stanley says, “But Earle, why are you shaking me? I voted with you on the bill—I voted against the bill.” Earle kept on shaking him said, “Yes, but you got too goddamn much pleasure out of it to suit me.” [Hellard laughs] Now that was a typical Clements—

Hellard:Is is true the senator use to go on the floor of the chamber and—

Prichard:Why hell, sat up to there in the pres-—next to the president’s seat in the last night of the session. Sat up there—in the ’50 session, I wasn’t there, but Cash Holbrook was sergeant-at-arms, Cash was carrying a pistol around. Clements went up there and took the pistol away from him and dropped it down between his feet on the floor and sat there till the session adjourned, of course he sat on the floor, and would—might shake a senator or a representative if they weren’t going with him. Oh, it was a tightly controlled legislature.

Hellard:Was there any—or were there any dissidents at all?

Prichard:Yeah, Morris Weintraub, Leonard Preston, there were a few.

Hellard:What about the power of the lobbyists in—in the ’48 and ’50 sessions? Did it all come through the governor?

Prichard:They had to lobby with the governor if they were going to get anywhere. He—he, you know, there were lobbyists around, there were truck lobbyists and railroad lobbyists and labor lobbyists and utility lobbyists and rural co-op lobbyists, but the only place worth lobbying was Clements.

Hellard:Well, what about a fellow named Hugh Morris? Was he a reporter for the Courier-Journal then?

Prichard:Oh yeah.

Hellard:( )

Prichard:Isn’t Hugh living?

Hellard:Oh yes, very much so.

Prichard:He worked up there at LRC.

Hellard:Yes sir, he retired two years ago.

Prichard:I knew that, Hugh was the, I guess really head of the Frankfort bureau of the Courier-Journal. And Hugh—Hugh wrote, you know, the Courier-Journal had rather different kind of Frankfort coverage in those days.

Hellard:How so?

Prichard:Well, it was more what I would have called opinion journalism. Not on the editorial page, but it was—now when I say it was slanted I don’t mean it was illicitly slanted, but it—it delved into things, it wasn’t just something a hung around facts, a lot of analysis, if you know what I mean. And Hugh wrote a lot, and of course they—they—he bugged them because they, you know, if—if he wrote things that didn’t please them, why they’d get mad. I don’t think they ever thought he was dishonest, and I think they finally came to have a lot of affection for him.

Hellard:But Earle never felt like shaking him?

Prichard:He might’ve felt like it, but he never did. [Hellard laughs] He shook John Ed Pearce though.

Hellard:Is that right?

Prichard:Lifted him up off the floor and banged his head against that marble wall. I saw it, in the ’48 session. Just pulled him right up off the floor and shook him and batted his head.

Hellard:What occasion was that shaking?

Prichard:Well, there had been a bill up which I was lobbying for.

Hellard:And John Ed was writing for the Courier at this time wasn’t he?

Prichard:Yeah. I was lobbying for the bill for the co-ops, a bill to extend the period over which they could issue bonds. Well, Clements had made a commitment to both sides of the utility issue that he wouldn’t allow any utility legislation, whether favorable to the co-ops or the private utilities, to pass. Well, this was a noncontroversial bill, nobody was opposed to it, it passed unanimously in one house and it just extended the period over which they could issue bonds from twenty years to thirty years. But Clements got the idea he’d made a commitment there’d be no legislation and then there’d be none. And so he sent the word out to kill that bill, and it was killed. Well, I didn’t like it, but I understood what he was doing, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. And he had done a whole lot of things, you know, he had appointed a public service commission that gave us our first G&T power plant, and he actually had been very favorable, and he didn’t sponsor any legislation to gut our TVA bill. So I thought this was a minor thing, and it was, but John Ed just asked him, in a sassy way, [Hellard laughs] “Why’d you kill that utility thing? Did the KU [Kentucky Utilities] get you to do that?” Or something like that. And Clements just picked him up and started banging that head against that marble. Sounded like a watermelon. Oh listen, he was rough.

Hellard:Did you read about that in the paper the next day?

Prichard:I’m not sure whether John Ed put it in the paper. I don’t think so. He shook Dr. [Herman L.] Donovan.

Hellard:The president of the university [University of Kentucky]?

Prichard:Yeah.

Hellard:What was that—what was that about? When you said that Earle Clements was a shaker and a mover you really meant it didn’t you?

Prichard:Yeah. Well, Dr. Donovan had—had—had claimed that there was some legislation on the books that gave the governor power to remove members of the board of trustees. You know, Willis had exercised that power, and—and Morehead had been disaccredited during the Willis administration because he did that to get rid of the president up at Morehead, Dr. [William H.] Vaughn, and put his friend [Harvey] Babb in up there. And that caused Morehead to lose its accreditation. Well, Clements got Morehead reaccredited after he came in, and, but there was still a statute on the books that left the governor with the power to remove members of the board of trustees. And Donovan came over there lobbying to get it repealed, and Clements didn’t really give that much of a damn about it, but he thought they were attacking him, thought they were intimating that he wanted to fire trustees and so forth. So he and Donovan got in a little argument, and Clements shook him. [Hellard laughs] Don’t you remember Happy, when he ran later, ’55, use to refer to Clements as the great shaker? [Hellard laughs] And said he shook Dr. Donovan. And you know, Doc Beauchamp was always very sensitive about a lot of things, people didn’t know that, and one time I went through all the people that—that Clements had shaken, and Doc said, “He never shook me.” And—and I don’t think he ever did. But yes, he’d shake people.

Hellard:Did he have a sense of humor?

Prichard:On his terms, on his terms, yes. And you can kid him about shaking people now. I kidded him about it. Yes. I’ll tell you one of the funniest stories I ever remember. Mack Sisk and I were there, we were up in his office, Mack was his press secretary, you know, for a while. And there were a delegation from somewhere coming up there to talk to him about a road, or a park, or something. And they were gathered around, and I was standing there waiting to see him. And this bum got in somehow, and he mingled in this crowd of business people, and he was bumming fifty cents off of each one of them. And he got up to Clements, and he said, “How about a half a dollar?” Clements said to him, says, “You take the other side of the room. This is my side.” [Hellard laughs] I thought that was pretty good.

Hellard:[laughing] That would…Interesting you men-—mentioned Mack Sisk. During the campaign you didn’t have a press secretary. What—what did he fill it was—

Prichard:He was the first press secretary to any governor. He was Clements’ press secretary and later [Lawrence W.] Wetherby’s.

Hellard:Why did—when did Governor Clements find it necessary to have a press secretary?

Prichard:Well, I guess every governor by that time was coming to have one, you know. The press got more active and you had to pay more attention to it. And there were more and more newspapers that had correspondents there. And I just guess the same thing that led candidates and everybody else to have press secretaries, led a governor to have it. I’m not sure whether his first press secretary was Mack Sisk or George Curler, but they were both there, and they served for him and Wetherby. Ed Ferris was his executive secretary, ran the office, that’s how Ed started in the state government. One of the characters that was very close to Clements, and never had any job—I’ve always thought he was on the KU payroll and the truckers’ payroll to some extent, and he ended up dying with a lot of money in a lock box or at least they thought he did—his name was Scoop Sherwood, W. Sigsby Sherwood. And he had gone to Uclay—UK with Clements, and he was sort of half bum and half genius, if you know what I mean. And he was in the governor’s office every day when Clements was governor and never was on the state payroll. And there was some belief that he might have received some benefits from some people that sold highway equipment to the state, that he might have had a silent partnership with some dealer. And when he died, hell, he left forty, fifty thousand dollars in a lock box, and there was always some opinion on the part of his widow, whose name is Polly and may still be living down in Todd County, that’s where she came from, that Clements wanted to try to get in that lock box, and that that silent partnership was really his. [Hellard laughs] Now, I never believed that and nobody—Molo-, Dick Moloney never believed it. I think he just let his friend Sherwood make a little money off a couple of these vendors. But Polly got neurotic about it after Sherwood died. And you recall that when Clements was governor, probably the big thing that adversely affected Clements politically was his tax troubles, and that started when he was governor. There were a lot of money collected for political purposes, from highway contractors, vendors of highway equipment, people of that sort. And that was to be used when—was primarily used for political campaigns, you know, nobody ever reported things then, it was all done in cash. And the money was always kept in a safe in the office of Henry Carter, who was the banking commissioner. And I believe they accumulated about a, you know, a hundred and twenty-five, a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. And when Clements went to Washington, was elected to the Senate, Henry Carter was instructed to get all that money out of the safe and put it in a big suitcase and get on the train and go to Washington, which he did. And Clements took that money up there and he used it for political campaigns, he used it for Wetherby’s, I mean for Combs’ ’55 campaign, he used it for Watts’ congressional campaign, he used it for Barkley’s presidential campaign in 1952 in the convention. And when Barkley died, in 1956 wasn’t it?

Hellard:I think that’s right.

Prichard:Very suddenly. You know, Barkley was in the biggest tax trouble that anybody could be in. He had thousands of dollars in cash on his person, he had thousands of dollars in cash at his apartment, he had thousands of dollars in cash in the bank, he had accumulated property. And there isn’t any doubt that from the time he first—first got—his wife first got seriously ill with heart trouble, and had to have nurses around the clock, that Barkley formed the habit of making speeches all over the country and would get $2,500, $5,000 a speech—his salary then was about $10,000 a year—and that he persuaded himself that he didn’t have to pay income tax on that money and he never reported it. Well, just before he died, they were beginning to investigate him, and after he died they took 80 percent of everything he had. But in the course of that investigation, they ran into some money that Clements had put into his presidential effort in 1952. And that caused Clements to be audited. And they charged up all that money to him as taxable income, and they—they threatened to indict him. Now, this came to a head in about 1963—’62 or ’3—and Clements settled the matter by paying them sixty some thousand dollars, and he wasn’t indicted. Now, there is some belief, which I cannot confirm or disprove, that Happy Chandler went to see Bobby Kennedy. You see in the [Wilson] Wyatt campaign of ’62, after Combs fell out with Clements, fell out—Happy and Clements formed a sort of an uneasy alliance. And there is widespread belief that Happy went to see Bobby Kennedy and got the Department of Justice to agree not to prosecute Clements. Now I don’t whether that’s true or not, but that is suppose to be one of the reasons that Clements supported Happy in 1963.