“... a big-eyed patriot ... a perfect man, never in politics in his life, wouldn’t know what it was all about in two years, let alone two months. And the important thing—and this was the genius of the stroke—it means votes. A hero of 50,000 boys, and a 100,000 parents.” —From “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington”
FRANK CAPRA COULDN’T have staged it better. When New York City firefighter Joe Finley announced his bid for the state’s Second Congressional District, he made sure he was surrounded by props: his office, for one, Engine Company 16 Ladder 7, with its garage doors wide open; shiny red trucks, and his uniformed colleagues, undeniable heroes, all within the purview of the handful of cameras.
The 46-year-old Finley, who is suffering from what he describes as smoke-induced asthma as a result of his work at Ground Zero and has been put on modified duty after 12 years as a firefighter, traveled far from his Long Island home and the district he is hoping to represent so that he could officially join the race in front of his former lower-Manhattan firehouse.
“I need to retire from the physical duties of firefighting,” Finley, a Republican, said in his speech. “But I don’t want to retire from working to protect my country.” Finley is one of 164 New York City firefighters currently slated for a desk job as a result of lung damage suffered at Ground Zero. He is one of hundreds of firefighters waiting for a disability ruling that will determine his future within the department.
Not unlike Capra’s Jefferson Smith, who ran for office based largely on his heroism—as portrayed by Jimmy Stewart, Smith singlehandedly put out a forest fire in his small Midwestern town—Joe Finley would not be in this race were it not for the newly appreciated acronym FDNY.
And Finley seems to know that. Much of his platform centers on fighting terror, citing his support of missile defense or noting that Al Qaeda must be stopped at all costs. Indeed, during his speech and in an interview with NEWSWEEK, Finley continued to promote these same positions, although he didn’t outline many specifics. “I want to make sure this world is a better place when I leave it,” he said.
Not that his strategy doesn’t make sense. Finley is running in a competitive district and he’s getting a late start. A political neophyte with no experience in elected office should be talking about what it was like to lose nine colleagues at the World Trade Center and how painful it was to be only 10 years old and learn that his father had died fighting a fire. But it does raise questions: What else can Finley talk about? Does he even need to talk about anything else? He and his advisers clearly realize that Joe Finley is running as a hero and not as a politician. How many candidates can boast about their antiterror and high-rise helicopter training in those usually staid bios? Finley is a strapping man with a gentle face and blue eyes. It is not a stretch to imagine him scaling a skyscraper in a dramatic rescue effort.
“I’d vote for Finley hands down,” says Jack MacAneney, 72, of Northport, the Long Island town Finley has lived in for 40 years. “I’d rather have a man of the people instead of a product of the people. The first job of a typical politician is to get elected and the second is to get reelected. I’m not a fan of professional politicians. Being a firefighter and a policeman is a thankless job. I admire those men and I value what they do for us.”
The local GOP chair, Tony Apollaro, says he likes “Joe’s work ethic, enthusiasm and the fact that when he talks people listen. When I have those three things in a candidate, I think they’re easy to sell. His lack of political experience would concern me if it were an insiders’ race, a primary. In a general election, life is nothing more than a 15-second sound bite, and if those three characteristics come across, a candidate can win.”
If Finley is not quite a celebrity candidate, like ex-football players J.C. Watts and Steve Largent, or TV stars like Sonny Bono and Fred Grandy of “The Love Boat,” who all served in the House, he can be likened, at least in part, to Carolyn McCarthy, another Long Islander, whose husband was one of the random shooting victims of Colin Ferguson.
But, McCarthy, now in her third term in Congress, worked after the 1993 Long Island Railroad shooting as a gun-control lobbyist before she ran for her House seat. She beat out a staunch Republican who voted to repeal the federal ban on assault weapons, not a popular decision on Long Island after the massacre, which killed six people and injured 19 others.
Besides serving on the board of governors for the Huntington Art League, Finley has done nothing political, which even seasoned veterans of the New York political scene don’t see as a detriment. “I have no problem with lack of political experience,” says Rep. Peter King, a Republican who represents Long Island’s Third District. “We have Carolyn McCarthy whose main qualification was that her husband was killed here on Long Island. Being a victim gives you a forum.”
Others, though, are more cautious. “There’s no doubt that New York firefighters are America’s new heroes,” says Amy Walter, an editor at The Cook Political Report. “Does that translate into making a good congressman? He has to make a case against his opponent and not just for himself. That’s more difficult ... He’s a great People story, but you need to have a message and, when you’re running against an incumbent, a contrast. I haven’t seen that yet.”
Finley’s competitor, Democrat Steve Israel, refuses to criticize the firefighter, but he pointedly emphasizes the seven years he spent as a town councilman and the two years he has served as a congressman “lowering taxes and protecting Long Island’s environment.” Israel also casually mentions the $30 million in federal money he’s brought to the people of Long Island during his brief tenure in Washington. “These are trying times,” says Israel. “They call for experience.”
Whether Finley wins will be determined by what kind of experience voters are looking for. In an interview with NEWSWEEK, Finley spoke movingly about how he would work through the night and morning looking for the bodies of his best friends, how he heard church bells ringing somewhere beyond the ashy wasteland and he “knew then that we weren’t alone.” But even God’s presence could not temper the anguish he felt when he saw his firehouse’s truck sitting in the shadow of destruction, still running yet empty of men. He says he can’t forget what it was like to walk to the front of that hollow, eerily quiet fire engine and unfold the ride-list naming who was on board that morning.
No one can challenge his authenticity and grit. But whether or not that’s enough to send Mr. Finley to Washington is something voters will have to decide.
© 2003 Newsweek, Inc.