Second Look

Back in Baton Rouge from a nightclubbing 17-day vacation in Texas, Mexico and Arkansas, Louisiana's Governor Earl Long abruptly called his state legislature together in special session to consider a slate of 21 bills he wanted passed. The "urgent" agenda ran from vengeful bills against Long's political enemies, through pork-barrelling campaign provender, to a whimsical item that would have barred airlines from grounding stewardesses when they got married. The legislature at Baton Rouge last week just as abruptly answered the Governor's call: it adjourned 20 minutes after it had convened--the shortest session in Louisiana history, and quite possibly a world's record.

At first look, many political observers interpreted the lawmakers' rebellion as another direct hit on the scabrous House of Long. But a second look may have been more meaningful. There had been hardly any effort to block the adjournment; in fact, the motions for adjournment were made and roared through by many of Long's own legislative leaders and henchmen. Ole Earl's own reaction was another clue. Rushing half-shaved from his barber's chair to the skyscraper state capitol, he arrived just as the adjournment vote was being tallied, made a speech which was a startling departure from his usual profane tirades (TIME, June 15). "I ain't mad at anybody," Ole Earl purred. "If that's the way you like it, I don't know what else I can do. Go home, think it over, and let your conscience be your guide. Thank you, good luck, and God bless you."

What was Earl Long up to? Well, in his race for a third term as Governor, it would sure be nice to be able to pose as a martyr, to be able to claim that the durned legislature had adjourned without even giving him a chance to be heard. Explained Lieutenant Governor Lether Frazar, a staunch Longman: "The adjournment will earn him 100,000 votes."

If that was the strategy, it was less than a whopping success. At a street-corner rally in New Orleans last week, Long was hooted down by a group of teen-age hecklers, forced to leave the microphone and totter back to his seat. And as his motorcade of crimson station wagons headed upriver into the Long dynasty's traditional heartland, in town after town the audiences were dwindling--and the disturbing sound of hoots and laughter was rising.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.