Standing in the Rainbow - Fannie Flagg [118]
Coleman and Barnes Public Relations handled all the advertising for the Cecil Figgs funeral homes, so when Cecil called Arthur Coleman, the ad man jumped on the phone immediately. Cecil was not only a good friend of his wife, Bipsey, but he was also one of his biggest and most lucrative accounts.
“Cecil, how are you?”
“Fine.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Honey, I need you to do me a little favor.”
“Sure, what do you need?”
“Could you take a look at someone for me on the Q.T. and tell me what you think?”
“Absolutely. Be glad to. Who is it?”
“His name is Hamm Sparks and he’s running for governor. I’d like to help him if I can but I don’t know a thing about politics.”
“What is it that I’m looking for?”
“Just see if you think anything can be done to enhance his public image. You know about those things, I don’t.”
Arthur wrote the name down. “Hamm Sparks? Isn’t he that hicky-looking guy with the bad hair?”
Cecil sighed. “Yes, that’s him.”
Good News, Bad News
TWO WEEKS LATER Coleman called Cecil with his report. “I checked out your man.” He laughed. “You sure picked yourself one hell of a wingdinger there, Cecil, but he’s colorful, I’ll give him that.”
“What do you think he should do?”
“Honestly? Not a thing.”
“You don’t think that maybe it would help if he got a suit that fits and maybe cleaned up his English just a little?”
“No. From a public-image point of view, I wouldn’t mess with him a bit. This guy is all natural and if you try and fool with him at this point it will just confuse him.”
“So you wouldn’t suggest changing anything?”
“No. He has good instincts and he’s doing just fine the way he is. And as far as the whole package, it’s not bad—two kids, a nice little wife-and-mother type who doesn’t get in the way . . . but now, Cecil, you do know that this guy doesn’t stand a chance in hell against Wendell Hewitt, don’t you?”
“Yes, but thank you anyway.”
“Anytime. But I am curious. What made you decide to back this particular candidate?”
Cecil said sincerely, “I don’t know, honey, I wish I could tell you. But I really don’t know. Just a hunch I had, I guess.”
Wendell Hewitt, clearly the people’s choice for governor, took the lead in the polls right from the first day of the race and kept it. He was a six-foot-two, affable, hard-drinking man with an eye for the ladies who was not only a good solid politician with a law background but an independent thinker. Most important, people liked him. However, the state Democratic higher-ups did not like him, and did not support him. They wanted a party man they could control and Wendell Hewitt was not it. As far as they were concerned, he was a loose cannon. Peter Wheeler, a wealthy, well-educated, rather effete insurance executive from Kansas City, was their man. But they had a problem. Their man was a bit stuffy and could never win against such a popular choice as Wendell. Behind closed doors, Earl Finley, the head of the party, agreed it would be best if Hewitt were to be out of the race altogether. A month later, by some miracle and a lot of money exchanging hands, their prayers were answered. A photograph of Wendell Hewitt leaving a motel room with someone other than his wife appeared in the Kansas City Star and was picked up by papers all over the state. Wendell and his staff assumed it had been the Republicans that had done him in but he took it like a good sport and did not whine about it or try to lie his way out of it. In his television address he said, “Due to recent events I have no choice but to withdraw from the governor’s race because, ladies and gentlemen, if my opponents are going to continue to stoop so low and use