Some Day the Sun Will Shine and Have Not Will Be No More (38 page)

It would be a huge mistake, however, to imply that Frank lacked brains. He was
quick, had an excellent memory, and could master a lot of material quickly when
he put his mind to it. It was getting his mind to it, and holding it—that was
the problem.

I remember when I first worked in the premier’s office, having been appointed
special assistant in 1973. I think I also acted as parliamentary assistant.
Anyway, the office was in disarray. Charlie Brett (the then Member for Trinity
South and good friend) was doing his best to arrange things. It was a mighty
task. Just getting responses out to letters written to the premier seemed like a
mighty task. And it wasn’t being done in a timely manner. On one of my first
days I was in the premier’s private office (I think just me) talking to the
premier. I insisted on a one-on-one because I wanted to tell him just how bad
the organization of the office was and get his okay to bring some sense to the
place. I used as an example his desk before me, cluttered in piles with
letters—some opened, some not opened—and that this needed to be cleaned
up.

“Well, Pecky, just look at you; trying to change the world. My
son, if you can do it, no problem. You got my blessing.”

It was this nonchalance that would frustrate one as you tried to do something
that would help him and all of us. He often just didn’t seem to care that much.
And then there were times when he would get this burst of energy for the job,
and for a few days he was on top of everything. And great to be around.

His womanizing was legion. While serving as his parliamentary assistant I had
occasion to be ordered by him, while seated in the legislature, to proceed to
the legislature gallery and escort a woman, unknown to me, to his office on the
eighth floor. I did and returned to the legislature. In a few minutes, the
premier left his chair and informed me that he would be away for a little while
and proceeded to his office via the private elevator. Within the hour he was
back, looking refreshed, showered, with a clean shirt and tie, and gave us all
the impression he was very much interested in the ongoing debate. On campaign
stops around the province he was known, at overnight stays, to have access to
women of the community. And I remember I was to accompany him and his press
secretary to Ottawa for a conference via Montreal. The conference was on a
Tuesday, but we three were going to Montreal on Friday for the weekend, or so we
were informed.

And he could be generous. I remember when I finally persuaded him to come to my
district to be the guest speaker (he had never been there before) at the PC
District Association annual meeting, dinner and dance. Of course, he almost
didn’t make it, showing up late by helicopter on a misty evening just before
dark (and well fortified with alcohol).

A few days before, when I had reminded him of the event, he said to me, “Well,
what are the problems in your district?”

I responded, “Premier, there are many: road problems, forestry issues, health
care, and so on. If you just mention that you are aware of the road, forestry,
fishing, and heath care issues, and that you will be tackling them with me, that
will be fine.”

“No, no,” Frank said, “What can we do right now? What do you want?”

Taken aback, I stumbled and uttered that a very dedicated group
had been working with me and the Department of Health on a new long-term care
facility for Springdale and that they had a lot of the groundwork already
completed.

“Well, that’s it,” he said, “I will announce it.”

After his arrival and just before we headed to the event, Frank said to me,
“What is it that I am going to announce?”

I was flabbergasted. He had already forgotten! I explained to him about the
nursing home facility and all the work that had been done, the involvement of
the people of the town, the Department of Health, and all related organizations.
I also mentioned there were many other issues that over the years we would have
to tackle, like forestry, the fishery, and the local ferry service.

Off we went to the event and Frank suddenly became very animated, shook hands,
mixed with the people, and everyone was in a good mood and happy to meet the
premier. Dinner followed; no problems. Then the meeting was handled quickly and
I introduced Frank.

He got up and began his speech—how glad he was to be here, wonderful town,
great people, and so on. And he knows there are issues with roads, ferries,
forestry, and the fishery, and that he and Brian are going to tackle them
together. He also knows that the people of the town have been working hard to
get a nursing home here in Springdale for the area.

“Well,” he said, “I am announcing that this new facility has been approved by
government.”

The audience was in shock! No one thought that this would happen so quickly.
There was still some work to do and the Department of Health was very careful in
not getting the people’s hopes too high that it would happen that soon. Hey, but
here it was, announced by the premier. And that was that.

Of course, I had to do a lot of shuffling in government to see that this
commitment was realized; the Department of Health had to get approval from
Cabinet, but this was the premier and he had committed government to it and that
was final. Frank liked doing things like that and he did them often during his
time as premier.

Another time when I was Municipal Affairs minister, he asked me
to accompany him to his district. There was a fair amount of negativity coming
from his district that he really had not visited, and this visit was to try to
counter this local problem. Well, we ended up meeting with all the municipal
councils on the north shore of the Bay of Islands. What a whirlwind series of
events. At each meeting Frank would quickly commit to almost whatever the
councils asked for. I was there interrupting and trying to smooth things out and
keep some kind of lid on the dollar value and number of commitments that were
being made.

Unfortunately, Frank could scheme and things were not always as they seemed.
One of his favourites was to have his driver bring the premier’s car over early
in the morning and park it in the premier’s parking spot. Everyone thought the
premier was in early to work when he was still home, recuperating, often from a
previous night’s intense activity. Additionally, he seemed to enjoy small
numbers (I think he was more comfortable), and small Cabinet cliques and other
business cliques developed early on in his premiership. There were always lots
of rumours and backstabbing going on. This manifested itself in many unsavoury
ways: one being the Public Works scandal involving a local electrical contractor
and a later suspicious fire at one Cabinet minister’s apartment
,
as well
as illegal fishing and hunting escapades. One of my first acts as premier was to
rid ourselves of the fishing camps the government had in Labrador, which were
often misused for partying and not legitimate government entertaining of
dignitaries.

Let me record three particular instances on this theme.

I was only minister of Municipal Affairs and Housing a short while when early
one morning I heard footsteps coming down the long hallway to my office. It was
early and this had been the first time I heard someone else coming in that
early. So I was suspicious. I got up from my desk, moved out into the hallway,
and looked around. Two men were coming toward me. Who should this be but the
premier, Frank Moores, and one Craig Dobbin (now deceased), a local influential
businessman. Was I surprised! I called out good morning
and as
they got nearer I invited them into my office, more than certain it was me they
were here to see.

There was this prime piece of land that Newfoundland and Labrador Housing
Corporation had that interested Mr. Dobbin; the premier indicated that I should
talk to the corporation about having it released and “handled in such a way”
that Mr. Dobbin would get it. Well, I was taken aback by the subject and perhaps
as much by the brazen approach the two were prepared to make to get the land. I
indicated that this did not seem like it should be considered and that therefore
doing such a thing was really something I was not prepared to do. Arm twisting
ensued, but I stood firm, perhaps more so as the implication of what was being
proposed sank in. It became clear to the two as I read their faces that they
realized they had made a tactical error, thinking that I would bend under such a
visit. So almost as quickly as they appeared they left with Frank, mumbling,
“Well, Pecky, get on to the Housing Corporation today. I’m sure you can do
something here to help.” I bid them a good morning. I did nothing about it. And
Frank never raised it again.

Frank realized that I would not compromise on matters that were obviously
unethical and bordering on the illegal. So other issues were kept from me that
fell into this category as I continued in his Cabinet.

The sale of the Stephenville linerboard mill is a good example of this. This
mill, poorly conceived by Smallwood, and unfortunately pursued and executed by
Moores/Crosbie, was finally closed (after more than $300 million of taxpayers’
money) and then put up for sale. Given that it was owned by the government, a
public process was instituted to see if there were any buyers manufacturing
other paper products to run it, using wood from the island, not from Labrador,
one of the fatal flaws of Linerboard’s demise. I found out (how, I do not
remember; perhaps from another minister or a public servant), after the process
had been under way for some time and the selection of a buyer was imminent, that
there was likely “not so nice behind-the-scenes arrangements” going on that very
day. This was late morning and I checked to see where the premier was and found
out he was meeting in his dining room with several ministers. I barged
into the meeting. I immediately inquired if the meeting was
about the sale of the mill and was told that it was being discussed. I indicated
that from information I was given, Abitibi-Price had submitted the best bid and
that this seemed like a simple decision. Well, the premier and a number of the
ministers began some advocacy of another bid by Consolidated-Bathurst, a company
then owned by the prominent “behind-the-scenes mover and shaker” Montreal
businessman Paul Desmarais. As a matter of fact, while I was arguing the point,
Frank placed a call to Desmarais and a conversation ensued, only part of which I
could hear. It seemed as if Frank was negotiating over the phone with Desmarais.
After this phone conversation I made it clear that the mill must go to the
company that submitted the best bid as determined by the public servants who
were analyzing it and that I would be taking such a stand at the Cabinet table
and that rigging one bid to make it seem the best bid after the fact would not
work. I think I then walked out of the dining room. Later at a Cabinet meeting,
a recommendation came forward for the mill to be sold to the best bidder,
Abitibi-Price.

Perhaps an even more galling (in the sense that this was under my ministerial
responsibility) event was the issue of a hydro deal with Quebec on the existing
Upper Churchill development and the development of the much discussed Lower
Churchill project. Frank had patched together a framework agreement with Premier
Lévesque without my knowledge, and I found out about it the evening of the
signing. The announcement was to be the next day. I remember hurrying to the
premier’s office and inquiring as to what was happening. I was ushered into the
premier’s office and informed of the arrangement. This was an unbelievable
circumstance. For my purposes here, it reinforces the point already made about
Frank’s modus operandi, his willingness to completely co-opt ministers, and the
gall in thinking that everyone would just go along with what he had secretly
negotiated, regardless of its merits and negative repercussions, economically or
politically.

Disappointingly, Frank seemed not to get it. After doing such things and
knowing I knew, he would continue in like manner. In
1978,
rumours began circulating about his pending resignation. I was in his office one
day during this period and he informed me that he was going to resign very
shortly and he thought he should tell me. Of course, I thanked him for the
courtesy. He asked whether I intended to seek the leadership. I responded that
this would be a big step and did not know if I would or not; I would have to
talk it over with family and friends. He quickly responded that he thought I
should, that I could be assured he would not take sides in the pending
leadership competition. He was adamant about this and thought such a position
would be good for the party—to have a wide-open race with the retiring leader
remaining on the sidelines. Well, of course I took this with a grain of salt
given my previous experiences with him, but his statements were so emphatic that
I half-believed him. How foolish! He had no sooner resigned when he was secretly
organizing for Bill Doody, one of his ministerial confidants and leading
candidate to replace him.

These kinds of experiences greatly colour my views on the man, although most
would say that he was the only one at the time who could unseat Smallwood. And I
believe this is true. The early days of his administration saw major change in
the way government operated, and most of this was to the good, including a
Public Tender Act strongly influenced by Bill Marshall, a minister in Moores’s
early Cabinet and later to be of tremendous assistance to me as minister of
Energy.

On Frank’s passing, I issued the following: