Brimming Cup

Any civic-minded Washingtonian is doomed by circumstance to be a thwarted, unhappy man. By geography he is disfranchised--he has no voice in managing his 69,245 square miles of handsomely landscaped bedlam. He is plagued by starlings, 10-c- streetcar fares, a water system that floods basements even after a drizzle, a street-cleaning system that depends mainly on the wind, a police force loaded with the castoffs of Congressional patronage--and some of the worst slums in all the U.S.

The Washingtonian's affairs are run for him by three Presidentially-appointed Commissioners, usually utterly without administrative experience. Congress grudgingly appropriates a mere $6 million a year for the city's upkeep, and in return reserves the right to park in front of fireplugs. The abused, voteless resident cannot even dilute his wormwood with a weekend binge. Bars close promptly at midnight Saturday, and remain shut over Sunday.

Last week the long-suffering citizen's cup ran over. Mississippi's squat, jug-eared Theodore Gilmore ("The Man") Bilbo, 66, became "mayor" of the city. Whereas four of his skittish seniors declined the Chairmanship of the Senate District Committee, The Man accepted with enthusiasm. Hereafter, with the House's hard-working Jennings Randolph, Senator Bilbo will pass on the District's budget, and thus on its civic welfare.

Washington's 50-odd never-say-die civic groups gloomed, got ready to say die. The city's 187,266 Negroes had reason to be apprehensive. This was The Man who had survived umpteen fragrant political scandals to campaign again in red necktie and diamond-horseshoe stickpin. After eight years as Governor of his state, The Man left Mississippi's educational efficiency rating in 47th place. Grateful Mississippians then sent Poll-taxer Bilbo to the Senate. There he showed his mettle by suggestions such as that all the nation's economic ills might be cured if U.S. Negroes were deported, en masse, to Africa.

But His Honor pitched in with new-broom vigor. His first official act was hilarious: a warning to gangsters to get out of town. The warning created some surprise, since Washington crimes are historically either passionate or political. After further thought, The Man announced: "Slums should be eliminated, insofar as possible. ..."

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