Tough Old Codger

Wisconsin's common folk, with an air of affectionate proprietorship, called him "the old man." They liked to think of the big, rumpled man in the governor's chair, puffing his pipe, nibbling cheese, his voice rumbling, his massive head wagging like an amiable St. Bernard's. Some might disagree with his basically conservative Republicanism. But everyone agreed that Governor Walter Samuel Goodland was honest to the point of truculence. He was also, at 84, the oldest state governor in the nation's history.

As a newspaper editor, his masthead motto had been: "Independent in all things, neutral in none." When he became acting governor in 1943 (the governor-elect died before taking office), Wisconsin politicians learned that he hadn't changed. The self-styled "tough old codger" tackled every sacred cow and pressure group, from the American Legion to organized labor. He cracked down on lobbyists, gamblers, and battled the highway lobby.

The regular Republicans, headed by State Boss Thomas E. Coleman, didn't like such highhandedness. But the voters did. They re-elected him in 1944, and again in 1946, despite the opposition of Coleman's regulars.

But the old codger was ailing. His legs hurt him more than ever. Last week, as he sat on his bed winding his big, old-fashioned watch, death came, suddenly and swiftly, to Walter Goodland.

Next day Lieut. Governor Oscar Rennebohm, 57, was sworn in as acting governor. A wealthy, self-made man who built a bankrupt drug store into a prosperous chain, he is a political neophyte. He owns a palatial, 14-room house overlooking Lake Mendota, during the summer spends most of his spare time on his 175-acre dairy farm. He is closely associated with the G.O.P. machine. Said Boss Coleman: "He will serve the state very well."

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