Boston Herald, MA
March 8 2009

Already missing Mr. Speaker

By Peter Gelzinis
Sunday, March 8, 2009 –

My last phone conversation with George Keverian was two weeks
ago. `I’m looking over bread inside the Market Basket,’ he told me.

I apologized and said I’d call back in an hour.

`Peter, don’t be silly,’ said the former speaker of the House. `Your
call is the highlight of my day. I’m able to multitask, you know. I’m
sure I can squeeze the bread and provide you with insight at the same
time. So, Peter, please, what can I do for you?’

Our phone calls always ended the same way, with me promising to bring
coffee over to his assessor’s office in Everett. `I’ll look forward to
it,’ George would say.

In the aftermath of his passing on Friday, I can’t remember now what
it was that kept me from going to Everett City Hall.

George Keverian was, quite literally, an abundant man. His similarly
sizable intellect was surpassed only by his prodigious compassion. In
many ways, he was an engaging paradox.

As a public figure, Keverian was skilled enough to dominate in that
shark tank known as the State House. He was also the devoted
first-born son of Armenian immigrants, who died in the same Everett
three-decker where he’d spent all of his 77 years; he was the powerful
pol who never married and cared for his mother until the day she
died. Such bedrock loyalty does not exist in today’s crop of
politicians.

`When George was speaker and (Billy) Bulger was Senate president,’
recalled one insider, `you had this remarkable contrast in styles and
temperament. George was the Everett kid who rode the subway back and
forth to Harvard, a tremendous wit who made himself the butt of all
his best jokes.

`Bulger, on the other hand, was the (BC) Triple Eagle who never let
you forget it,’ the source added, `the studied quip whose fork-tongued
punch lines were always aimed at someone else.’

After Keverian out-maneuvered his Napoleonic predecessor, Tommy McGee,
in a coup of House reformers, the word `paternal’ described a
leadership style befitting a man who really did view the House as his
family.

Our conversations started after George had left Beacon Hill with no
regrets and no desire to lobby or look back. He took refuge in the
bosom of his beloved Everett, where the city immortalized its favorite
son by naming an elementary school in his honor.

`Peter, do you know what it feels like to be able to walk into a
building that bears your name and read Dr. Seuss to a kindergarten or
first-grade class?’ George Keverian would say. `It’s wonderful, truly
wonderful.’

I will miss the insight and the laughter so graciously dispensed by
this kind and generous man with the gentle voice.

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