Chicago mayors: 100 years of their inauguration speeches — from William Dever through Brandon Johnson

A mayor’s inauguration “didn’t amount to much” in the early days of the city, 86-year-old Chicago resident David “Uncle Dave” W. Clark told the Tribune in 1927.

“There were no ladies, flowers, big dinners, or river trips. The mayor just walked up, was sworn in, said his speech, and that was all,” he said.

Pomp and circumstance is still in decorum — though river trips are out — and a new mayor’s first words delivered during inauguration are the standard by which he or she will be judged during their term.

Here’s a look back at what Chicago’s mayors have said in their first official addresses during the past 100 years.

William A. Dever

Chicago’s 42nd mayor (1923-1927)

Elected 100 years ago, Dever was a reformer with impeccable working-class credentials.

The Massachusetts native came to Chicago at age 25 and worked as a leather tanner while attending law school. After passing the bar exam, he opened a Loop office. When the tannery workers went out on strike in 1891, they asked their former colleague to represent them. Dever won acquittal for a worker charged with repeated picketing. That won Dever a reputation as a friend of the workingman.

He was elected to City Council in 1902 and served nine years before he was elected a judge. He remained on the bench until 1923, when he ran for mayor.

What he said (in entirety) on April 16, 1923: “Long years of public service has taught me there is not much to be gained by long speeches. So I shall not have much to say. Tonight I am moved by the sentiment that comes to me from the old days. It was my good fortune to have served under three mayors (Carter Henry Harrison IV), (Edward F.) Dunne and (Fred A.) Busse, and during my years of service in this council I supported them all to the best of my ability, because it was my belief that no administration could be a success without cooperation of mayor and council.

“That administration must be a success where mayor and aldermen cooperate, and I hope we may have that sentiment here. I want my administration to be remembered for something definite in the service of the city. My office shall be at all times open to every member of the council, and I trust that none may fail to avail himself of the cooperation I expect.”

His legacy: Where else but Chicago could a nickname like “Decent Dever” be the kiss of political death for a mayor?

Seeking reelection four years later, Dever found himself on the defensive. He was defeated by William Hale “Big Bill” Thompson, a former mayor and awesome boodler.

He then served as vice president and trust officer for Bank of America but was forced to retire after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

Dever died on Sept. 3, 1929 — just two years after leaving office — and is buried in Evanston’s Calvary Cemetery.

Did you know: A water crib in Lake Michigan is named in Dever’s honor.

William Hale “Big Bill” Thompson

Chicago’s 41st and 43rd mayor (1915-1923; 1927-1931)

Thompson served as mayor in two stretches: from 1915 to 1923 and from 1927 to 1931. He was fairly rational during his first term, perhaps because he had presidential ambitions. But returning to the fray in 1927, he abandoned all restraint.

During that year’s primary season, Thompson carried two rats in a bird cage to his campaign appearances. The Trib reported: “The caged rodents are introduced to ‘Big Bill’s’ audiences as ‘Dill’ and ‘Fred,’ which is short for Dr. John Dill Robertson and Fred Lundin.” Robertson was running for mayor; Lundin was a ward boss in Robertson’s corner.

As the rats shtick demonstrates, Thompson loved stage props, his favorites being horses and boats. The horses came first. When he was 12, Thompson was arrested with a group of friends, all on horses galloping across the State Street bridge chasing imaginary Indians. His father, a man of means, intended Thompson to have an Ivy League education, but he yielded to his son’s fascination with the Wild West and bought a ranch in western Nebraska for Thompson to manage.

Thompson promised voters he’d “crack King George one in the snoot” if the British king dared set foot in Chicago. He was convinced that King George had given the library a collection of books, some being propaganda intended to make unwary readers regret that the U.S. had broken with England. Thompson appointed a buddy, Urbine J. Herrmann, a special commissioner with a mandate not unlike a Soviet commissar’s: rooting subversive literature out of the Chicago Public Library.

What he said on April 18, 1927: Thompson delivered a 2,000-word address — a word for every person in attendance — to City Council, “set forth in pungent words,” the Tribune reported.

“The crime situation will have our immediate attention. Our new Superintendent of Police has my positive instructions to drive the crooks and thieves and lawbreakers out of Chicago in ninety days, so that the people, their homes and their property may again be secure. I am sure that Chief Hughes will accomplish this result.

“I will proceed vigorously to oust Superintendent McAndrew from the schools of Chicago, and restore to the school children the true history of George Washington and the other fathers and heroes of our country, and expose the treason and propaganda which insidiously have been injected into our schools and other educational institutions.”

His legacy: Thompson’s antics lost their magic by 1931 when he was defeated by Anton Cermak. The voters were fed up with the bootleggers’ violence and Thompson’s reported connection to Al Capone’s gang. He ran again for political office a number of times, each unsuccessfully.

He became increasingly reclusive, seldom leaving a suite he rented, first at the Congress Hotel, then at the Blackstone Hotel. Old friends rarely came to visit, and his wife had died. At the time of his own death on March 19 1944, Thompson’s only companion was Estabelle Green, who had been his secretary during the 1931 campaign.

Did you know: Thompson made headlines one more time, after his death, when safe deposit boxes of his were discovered stuffed with $1.84 million in cash and securities. Green put in a claim for half of Thompson’s estate, which totaled $2.1 million.

She settled for $250,000.

Anton Joseph Cermak

Chicago’s 44th mayor (1931-1933)

Cermak — from Czechia — was the first foreign-born mayor of Chicago who once sold firewood out of a wagon and labored as a coal miner. He worked his way up the political ranks — through the Illinois House of Representatives, then City Council followed by president of Cook County Board of Commissioners before running for mayor in 1931 — and is credited with creating the Democratic machine that has chugged along for the past 92 years.

He built the strength of the Democratic Party by bringing together diverse factions, using clout and patronage to punish and reward. Cermak could be ruthless, but also conciliatory.

His rewards, it is widely held, came from real estate deals and bootlegging.

What he said on April 9, 1931: Cermak began the day by showing many City Hall employees the door.

“I assume this office with all its responsibilities. I will never shirk any of them. I have no statement to make at this time, except to reiterate that I am going to give the people of Chicago the best administration they ever had.

“I ask the members of the council for their cooperation to that end. I know the financial dilemma the city is now in.

“The principal reason that hundreds of employees were dismissed today was so that we would be able to function for the balance of the year. The funds in many departments are depleted. I shall do all I can to coordinate departments to eliminate waste and extravagance. I believe that thus in a short time we shall be able to reduce taxes.”

Cermak left the city for a few days to recuperate from the campaign, the Tribune reported. His formal inauguration took place on April 27, 1931.

His legacy: Cermak traveled to Miami to meet President-elect Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who was returning from a Caribbean fishing trip. It was 1933, a bleak Depression year. The city’s coffers were empty. Its schoolteachers weren’t being paid. After a short speech, Roosevelt sat atop the back seat of a convertible and motioned Cermak to his side.

Cermak barely got to speak to Roosevelt that Feb. 15. A man, later identified as Giuseppe Zangara, an Italian anarchist, raised a handgun and began shooting. He was aiming for Roosevelt, but hit Cermak and four others. Cermak was helped into Roosevelt’s car, which sped to the hospital. During that ride, with Roosevelt at his side, Cermak supposedly uttered his famous line: “I am glad it was me instead of you.”

FDR lived to dramatically remake the federal government. But Cermak was badly wounded and died a few weeks later, on March 6, 1933. A estimated 50,000 people joined in a somber procession to his interment in Bohemian National Cemetery.

Did you know: Five days after the funeral, the City Council voted to change the name of 22nd Street to Cermak Road.

Frank J. Corr

Chicago’s 45th mayor (1933)

Corr, an attorney and alderman for the 17th Ward, was a dark horse candidate to succeed Cermak, whom he supported politically. When asked what his likes and dislikes were, Corr told the Tribune he lived simply, liked to play golf and smoked too much. But he received the majority of the vote during what the paper called a “stormy session” just days after Cermak’s funeral.

What he said on March 14, 1933: “I shall to my utmost follow the policies of economy, retrenchment and good government enunciated and performed by our late mayor. I have no feeling of elation. I realize I am here through the hand of destiny and the tragedy which made Chicago and the nation grieve.

“I assume the office in full knowledge of the responsibilities which go with it. I didn’t even know I was a candidate for mayor — and I shall need the aid of all my colleagues to bring order out of chaos.”

His legacy: Corr was mayor for a month before City Council chose Edward J. Kelly to serve the remainder of Cermak’s term.

Did you know: Expected to easily win a race to become a circuit court judge, Corr died on June 3, 1934 — the eve of the election. He went into a coma brought on by complications arising from a diabetic condition, the Tribune reported. The 57-year-old was buried in Holy Sepulchre Cemetery, the same resting place as Mayor Richard J. Daley.

Edward J. Kelly

Chicago’s 46th mayor (1933-1947)

Cermak may have created Chicago’s Democratic machine, but Kelly put it into action.

Kelly, president of the South Park Commission and chief engineer of Chicago’s Sanitary District (now known as the Metropolitan Water Reclamation District of Greater Chicago), was selected to succeed Cermak by his fellow Democrats on City Council. His track record was solid — his South Park administration helped build the Shedd Aquarium, Adler Planetarium, Grant Park, Soldier Field and the Museum of Science and Industry. Kelly won his first full term in 1935 and, fully in charge of the powerful Democratic machine Cermak had bequeathed him, ruled City Hall for another 12 years.

What he said on April 13, 1933: “I am not prepared to present a detailed program to this honorable body. Time, since my election, was too short for that. But I do know the plight in which Chicago finds itself.

“Our teachers, policemen, firemen and other municipal employees have been working for months without pay.

“The general economic conditions are making it increasingly difficult for our citizens to pay their taxes, while others able to do so, are delaying or refusing payment.

“Two hundred thousand families are dependent upon public or private charity for their daily bread.

“The lawless elements of our city are not yet completely conquered.

“The cost of government has not yet reached the lowest possible figure consistent with good public service.

“These conditions present our major problems. To solve them, I shall need your help.”

His legacy: Kelly was the first of three consecutive mayors of Irish heritage hailing from Bridgeport. He took office just before the Century of Progress International Exposition began in Chicago and asked the Tribune to come up with a sporting event to embellish the fair (that’s how baseball’s first All-Star Game was created). Then in 1942, he dedicated the Frances Cabrini Rowhouses — the city’s first wartime housing project — at the intersection of Chestnut Street and Cambridge Avenue.

“We cannot continue as a nation, half slum and half palace. This project sets an example for the wide reconstruction of substandard areas which will come after the war,” he said at the time.

Kelly opened the city’s subway system in 1943 and appointed a board in 1945 to find a suitable site for the city’s second airport, which became home to O’Hare International Airport.

He fell out of favor with the machine and did not seek another term in 1947.

Kelly died on Oct. 20, 1950 and is buried in Calvary Cemetery in Evanston.

Did you know: Patrick A. Nash, then-Cook County Democratic Party chairman, refused to be considered for Cermak’s replacement. Instead, Nash suggested Kelly — his longtime friend — for the position. They remained close — in politics (known as the Kelly-Nash political machine) and as confidantes. Kelly was at Nash’s bedside when Nash died in 1943.

“Chicago has lost a great citizen and I have lost my best friend,” Kelly told reporters after Nash’s death.

Martin H. Kennelly

Chicago’s 47th mayor (1947-1955)

One sentence from the book “The Mayors: The Chicago Political Tradition” by Paul M. Green and Melvin G. Holli sums up Kennelly completely — “He was a nice man.”

Though born into a poor family, Kennelly worked hard to become a mogul. He served as a captain in World War I. Kennelly then translated his experience working in the stockroom at Marshall Field & Co. and moving exhibits from the former Field Museum site in Jackson Park to the new facility in Grant Park into ownership of a storage company. Allied Van Lines, a national moving company, was organized with his help and he eventually became president of the National Furniture Warehouseman’s Association.

The election of the soft-spoken Kennelly as mayor meant the Democratic Party would continue its domination of Chicago politics. The Tribune said it could also mean the end of a political era that “saw regular ward business carried on with pistols, blackjacks, free beer, and groceries.”

What he said on April 15, 1947: Kennelly was sworn in by outgoing Mayor Kelly.

“Our first concern must be Chicago’s progress — an objective which must exclude partisan politics. Let our record for the public good be our only politics. In that way we will bring credit upon our city and the people who have honored us.”

His legacy: Under his leadership, the groundwork for Chicago’s expressways had begun, and Kennelly’s administration planned and started the Chicago Skyway. He also helped assemble land for O’Hare International Airport.

While mayor, Kennelly hired an attorney who replaced 12,000 political appointees — many of them Democratic precinct captains — with permanent civil service workers. That was, according to the Tribune, one of the key reasons the regular Democratic organization supported their chairman Richard J. Daley.

When Cook County Democratic leaders met in December 1954 to pick a candidate for the 1955 mayoral race, they gave Kennelly three minutes and 58 seconds to make his case for re-endorsement. After his time was up, party leaders promptly endorsed Daley.

Kennelly died on Nov. 29, 1961 and was buried in Evanston’s Calvary Cemetery.

Did you know: In the early 1960s, a Chicago alderman proposed naming what is now the Eisenhower Expressway after Kennelly.

Richard J. Daley

Chicago’s 48th mayor (1955-1976)

Daley’s name is synonymous with Chicago politics. For 21 years, he was known as “The Mayor,” although he had other names as well. He was “The Boss” or “Da Mare” or, in a coinage from the late columnist Mike Royko during his fabled Chicago Daily News days, “The Great Dumpling.”

For an entire generation of Chicagoans, Daley was the only mayor they had ever known. He was the longest-serving mayor in Chicago history until his son, Richard M. Daley, broke his record. Today, there are generations who never knew him at all.

What he said on April 20, 1955: Daley, who had been Cook County clerk since 1950, defeated Republican Robert Merriam to become the new mayor of Chicago at age 52.

“I have no intention of interfering in any way with the proper functions of the City Council,” he said. “But, as mayor of Chicago, it is my duty to provide leadership for those measures which are essential to the interests of all the people and, if necessary, to exercise the power of veto against any measures which would be harmful to the people.”

Neither Kelly nor Kennelly, Daley’s predecessors, ever vetoed an ordinance enacted by the council, the Tribune reported.

His legacy: During his long reign, the face of Chicago changed profoundly. His friendship with Presidents John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson brought millions of federal dollars to the city to pay for ambitious capital-works projects and to fund the jobs that Daley used to hold his political apparatus together. He presided over the construction of the city’s expressway system, sprawling public-housing complexes, a greatly expanded O’Hare International Airport, the vast lakefront filtration plant for the city’s water system and the West Side campus of the University of Illinois at Chicago.

Daley’s national reputation was cemented in the presidential election of 1960, when legend has it that late-counted Democratic votes were responsible for Kennedy’s paper-thin victory over Richard Nixon. He was later criticized for his heavy-handed methods in handling the riots of the late 1960s, and in 1972, he and his machine allies were prevented from taking their seats at the Democratic convention because of a challenge to their credentials.

The setbacks only seemed to make him stronger with voters in Chicago. He was elected by huge margins six times, and voters followed his directives to the point that nearly every elected county officeholder and every alderman on the 50-member City Council was a Democrat.

He suffered a potentially debilitating stroke but had recovered fully and won an unprecedented sixth term in 1975.

Daley died unexpectedly of a heart attack on Dec. 20, 1976 and is buried in Holy Sepulchre Cemetery in Alsip.

“Many will say it was an era that should have ended, perhaps long ago,” said the Tribune, which had endorsed him in four of six mayoral campaigns. But “before cheering the end of the Daley machine, it is worth pausing to ask to what extent it has been the city that worked, and to what extent it was the Daley machine that worked.”

Did you know: Daley is credited not only with reviving Chicago’s St. Patrick’s Day parade, but also proposing the idea of greening part of Lake Michigan to celebrate the holiday.

It was his boyhood friend and Chicago Plumbers Union business manager Stephen M. Bailey who suggested dyeing the Chicago River instead.

Michael A. Bilandic

Chicago’s 49th mayor (1976-1979)

Daley had failed to groom anyone as a successor. Bilandic, a World War II veteran, lawyer and 11th Ward alderman of Croatian descent, was picked by council colleagues to replace him. The new mayor was faced with the unenviable task of filling shoes that no one in Chicago could have filled.

What he said on Dec. 28, 1976: Apologies to Bilandic if he said something profound — neither the Tribune archives nor the Chicago Public Library have the text from his speech.

His legacy: During his 2 1/2 years in office, Bilandic organized the first ChicagoFest and arranged city-insured, low-interest mortgage loans for middle-income families. A runner and jogger, he also lent his support to the Chicago Marathon.

In what turned out to be a major tactical error, however, he ousted Jane Byrne as the city’s consumer sales commissioner and forced her to give up her spot as co-chairman of the Cook County Regular Democratic Organization’s Central Committee.

Then, snow began to fall during the winter of 1978-1979. Blizzards paralyzed the city and Bilandic’s political career unraveled.

After his defeat by Jane Byrne, Bilandic returned to private law practice and then answered what some believe was his true calling when he was elected a judge, first to the Illinois Appellate Court in 1984 and later to the state Supreme Court after winning election in 1990.

Bilandic died on Jan. 15, 2002 at the age of 78, on the eve of scheduled coronary bypass surgery. He’s buried at St. Mary Catholic Cemetery in Evergreen Park.

Did you know: Bilandic wrote a revolutionary 1999 opinion in a ruling that health maintenance organizations can be held liable for negligence involving a patient’s medical care. The decision opened the door for a flood of HMO lawsuits.

Jane Byrne

Chicago’s 50th mayor (1979-1983)

Byrne, with an assist from mighty snowstorms and a tone-deaf Chicago mayor who preceded her, will forever be known as the feisty woman who in 1979 toppled Chicago’s formidable Democratic machine and “the cabal of evil men” she said ran City Hall.

She was born Margaret Jane Burke on May 24, 1933, the second of six children. Her father, William Burke, was a vice president of Inland Steel. She attended Queen of All Saints Catholic School near her Sauganash neighborhood, then St. Scholastica high school before graduating Barat College of the Sacred Heart in Lake Forest.

In 1956 she married William Byrne, a Marine pilot. Their daughter, Kathy, was born a year later. But tragedy struck in 1959 when William Byrne died in a plane crash.

The young widow soon got involved in politics, joining the presidential campaign of Democrat John F. Kennedy. That drew the notice of Daley, himself a key player in Kennedy’s campaign, and Byrne gravitated into the mayor’s powerful political orbit. Daley eventually named her commissioner of the city Department of Consumer Sales, Weights and Measures, an obscure office that Daley felt needed reorganization in the wake of growing consumerism. He also gave Byrne political visibility by making her co-chair of the Cook County Democratic Party and putting her on the Democratic National Committee.

Byrne’s election as mayor was a glass-ceiling-shattering event at City Hall, an insular bastion of white male-dominated power. But her four years in office proved more transitional than transformational, setting the stage for an arguably even bigger change with the election of Washington, the city’s first African-American mayor, to succeed her.

What she said on April 16, 1979: “As I visited the various neighborhoods in the campaign, I learned fast that it’s a mistake to think that all of the wisdom and possible solutions to our problems are available only in this building. I listened to suggestions from residents for ways of solving many problems. In the housing projects, people talked of ways to reduce crime, relieve overcrowding, and they were good ideas that we plan to study, and possibly implement.

“The people must know that from this day on, we want their opinions. We want to hear their complaints and problems. We will give fair consideration to their demands and proposals. We want them to become real partners in the business of government.

“The open house at City Hall must not be allowed to end tonight. The doors must be kept open. I will keep them open.”

Her legacy: Over her single term in office, Byrne launched Taste of Chicago and crowd-pleasing celebrations like Blues Fest, inspired the redevelopment of Navy Pier and the Museum Campus and encouraged moviemaking here in a big way by luring production of box office hits like “The Blues Brothers.” She also helped make the city more welcoming to gays — declaring the first Gay Pride Parade Day in 1981.

She will also be remembered, however, as a perpetually unsmiling and mercurial leader prone to publicity stunts like the month she spent living in the old Cabrini-Green public housing complex. In office, Byrne also cozied up to the insiders she once reviled, alienating the coalition of Blacks, liberals and women who were instrumental in making her the city’s first and only female mayor.

After leaving the mayor’s office, Byrne made a few unsuccessful stabs at returning to public office. She also briefly became a television ad spokeswoman for a chain of Mexican restaurants and cut another ad for the Weather Channel, making a pitch about how weather can change your life.

Perhaps Byrne’s last public appearance came at a ceremony renaming the Circle Interchange, the confluence of the Eisenhower, Kennedy and Dan Ryan expressways, the Jane Byrne Interchange.

Byrne had a stroke in 2013 and had been receiving hospice care when she died at the age of 81 on Nov. 14, 2014. She is buried in Calvary Cemetery in Evanston.

Did you know: The park surrounding Chicago’s historic Water Tower is known as Jane M. Byrne Plaza.

“It goes back many, many generations that my family was in that area,” Her daughter, Kathy, told aldermen in 2014. “My great, great grandfather, who was the first of my forbears to come to Chicago, lived in that area during the time of the Chicago Fire. And the Water Tower is a survivor, and my mother is a survivor, and Chicago is a survivor. And I think that would be a tremendous way to honor her, by dedicating that park to my mom.”

Harold Washington

Chicago’s 51st mayor (1983-1987)

On April 12, 1983, Harold Washington was elected mayor of Chicago, becoming the first Black man to hold the city’s top office. Washington, a U.S. representative who also served in the Illinois House and Senate, built his victory over Republican candidate Bernard Epton on a massive show of support by Black voters and a narrow slice of the white electorate.

What he said on April 29, 1983: Washington, a veteran of the U.S. Army, was sworn in at Navy Pier in order to accommodate several thousand guests. He then “broke with traditional inauguration day generalities and declared a freeze on hiring, a cut in executive salaries and the firing of newly hired workers,” the Tribune reported.

“The immediate fiscal problems Chicago faces are enormous and complicated,” Washington said. “My transition team advises me that the city government is ... in far worse financial condition than we thought.

“Today, I am calling on all of you — particularly you who have taken the oath with me today — to respond to a great challenge: Business as usual will not be accepted. ... Help me institute reform and bring about a renewal of this city while we still have time.”

Byrne and many of the aldermen who supported her sat behind the new mayor on the rostrum in stoic silence as Washington delivered what amounted to an indictment of the outgoing administration, the Tribune reported.

Yet Washington repeatedly noted that his remarks were offered “with malice toward none,” designed only “to set the record straight.”

His legacy: The ushering in of Washington as Chicago’s first Black mayor did not sit well with the old guard. A revolt was inevitable. Chicago’s Council Wars, as they would be dubbed, erupted on May 2, 1983, when 29 aldermen realized the power of a favorite scenario of political science professors: on paper, the pitting of a weak mayor against a strong City Council in Chicago.

In April 1986, court-ordered special elections resulted in a Washington majority in the City Council for the first time. The Washington administration was ready to begin its work.

Washington — who vowed to serve the city in that position for 20 years — was stricken by a heart attack while sitting at his desk just nine months after winning reelection to a second term and with a majority of the city’s 50 aldermen finally working with him. He was pronounced dead at 1:36 p.m. on Nov. 25, 1987. He’s buried in Oak Woods Cemetery in Chicago.

“In many ways, Washington’s legacy is not what he did, but what he was on the verge of doing” Tribune reporter Robert Davis wrote after Washington’s death. “Vowing to destroy the old Democratic machine, he finally managed to control it firmly only this year. Vowing to run the city government his way, he finally managed to garner the votes to do it.

“And he managed to solidify, at least behind his popular leadership, a united Black community that, aligned with a large number of Hispanic and white voters, lowered the voice of racism in a city that had gotten a national reputation for shouting.

“He was the first mayor of the last three to successfully seek a second term in office, following Richard J. Daley’s 21-year reign, but only in the last year had he managed to forge the combination of governmental and political control that had convinced some to describe him as a ‘Black Mayor Daley.’”

Did you know: Before the Bears played in Super Bowl XX, Washington renamed Daley Plaza — temporarily — in the team’s honor and declared himself “the city’s chief physician” for treating Bears Fever, the Tribune reported.

David Duvall Orr

Chicago’s 52nd mayor (1987)

As 49th Ward alderman in the 1980s, he was an “independent Democrat” allied with Washington.

The day before Thanksgiving 1987, then-Mayor Washington died of a heart attack in his City Hall office. Under a succession plan established after Daley died in office in 1976, the vice mayor would serve as interim mayor until someone could be chosen to fill out the remainder of the term. The vice mayor was Orr, who quickly ruled himself out as a candidate for acting mayor.

At the time, the Tribune described Orr as “an independent-minded former history professor with a reputation so squeaky-clean that a cynical colleague calls him ‘Mr. Goody Two-Shoes.’”

Despite his short tenure — which lasted all of a week — Orr insisted that his photo be added to the wall of mayors at City Hall, drawing some eye rolls from critics.

What he said on Nov. 25, 1987: Since Orr automatically became interim mayor after Washington’s death, there was not a typical inauguration ceremony for him. He did, however, make some remarks after he was sworn in on Thanksgiving Day.

“We are in mourning, but we still have great thanks to give,” he said. He praised the late mayor for his “vision of reform” and for “galvanizing the best and brightest for a new government that worked for everybody.”

His legacy: Seen as a Democratic rising star in the early 1990s, Orr was viewed as a potential contender for everything from mayor and Illinois secretary of state to Congress and U.S. Senate. He ended up playing it safe, sticking with the clerk’s office for nearly 30 years.

Did you know: Chicagoans probably recognize Orr as the guy who would come out and remind people to register to vote and offer turnout predictions on Election Day.

Eugene Sawyer

Chicago’s 53rd mayor (1987-1989)

Known for his calm manner and ability to forge compromise, Sawyer rose to prominence in the days following Washington’s death in November 1987. After a bitter, racially charged debate, a split council voted to name Sawyer — the longest-serving Black alderman at the time — as Washington’s replacement. He bridged the gap between the Council Wars of Harold Washington’s tenure and Richard M. Daley’s decades-long political reign and served as mayor until 1989, when he lost in the Democratic primary to Richard M. Daley.

What he said on Dec. 3, 1987: Sawyer was sworn in at 4:04 a.m. on Dec. 2, 1987 — after a historic City Council meeting that took up portions of two days. The following were his comments during his first official press conference the following day.

He insisted he did not “pass out” during the council election fight but felt tired at times.

Asked if he smokes, Sawyer said: “Yes, I do, but I will be stopping. I quit once and gained 30 pounds in six months, but I lost 10 pounds in the last few days. Maybe I can maintain this weight and not have to buy new clothes.”

His legacy: During his brief tenure, Sawyer pushed through several initiatives that Washington had started or supported, including a human-rights ordinance that had languished in the council for years before it was approved in 1988.

After he was defeated in 1989, Sawyer dropped out of public life but continued to reside in Chicago. He filed for bankruptcy in October 2005

Sawyer died on Jan. 19, 2008 and is buried in Oak Woods Cemetery in Chicago.

Did you know: Sawyer was sworn in in the rain-spattered parking lot of the Town and Country Restaurant, 1500 W. North Ave., in the shadow of the Kennedy Expressway. There’s a Mercedes-Benz dealership at that location today.

Richard M. Daley

Chicago’s 54th mayor (1989-2011)

Richard M. Daley was a former Illinois state senator and Cook County state’s attorney before he became mayor in 1989. He was mayor for 22 years — one more year than his father — making him the longest-serving mayor in Chicago history.

What he said on April 24, 1989: “You don’t hand down policies from generation to generation. But you do hand down values. As I take the oath my father took before me, I carry with me a love for our city and a zest for public service.”

His legacy: Richard M. Daley oversaw a city in transition in the 1990s and 2000s and spearheaded several major projects, including the construction of Millennium Park and the Museum Campus. He got the Democratic National Convention to come to the city in 1996 and also convinced state leaders to give him control of the Chicago Public Schools.

Daley can also take credit, or blame depending on your aesthetic point of view, for rebuilding decrepit Soldier Field into a modern stadium that resembles a flying saucer resting on classic colonnades. He waged a long battle with state officials to close Meigs Field, finally taking matters into his own hands by sending in heavy equipment without notice one night in 2003 to rip up the concrete.

He also masterminded the tearing down of many of Chicago’s public housing high-rises and sold the city’s parking meters to a private firm, a decision that has faced widespread criticism in the years since. He also attempted to lure the 2016 Summer Olympics to Chicago but that bid went to Rio de Janeiro.

Yet, he had plenty of unfinished business, too. The unbuilt Chicago Spire, an incomplete Block 37, an empty swath of land where Chicago wanted to construct the athletes’ village for the 2016 Summer Olympic Games, unbuilt runways at O’Hare and unrealized mixed-income housing — the list of incomplete initiatives sprawls on, reflecting the vast array of projects Daley took on and the inability of even powerful political leaders to enact their wish lists in the midst of recession.

In 2010, Daley shocked the city by announcing he would not run for reelection and his decision set off a flurry of political maneuvering to replace him.

The former mayor has suffered some health issues in recent years. In 2014, Daley spent time in the ICU of the same hospital after taking a fall; he reportedly suffered stroke-like symptoms that affected his speech. He was hospitalized in 2022 after experiencing what his doctor called a “neurological event.”

Did you know: Abraham Lincoln Marovitz, longtime U.S. District judge, administered the oath of office to Richard J. Daley six times, then did the same three times for his son, Richard M. Marovitz, who died in 2001 at 95, was also a boxer who fought in the ring under the name “Herbie Miller” because his father didn’t want him to hurt the family name.

Rahm Emanuel

Chicago’s 55th mayor (2011-2019)

He was senior adviser to former President Bill Clinton, first chief of staff to former President Barack Obama and a Democratic leader in the U.S. House, but Emanuel often said Mayor of Chicago was his dream job.

He was elected the city’s first new leader in 22 years.

What he said on May 16, 2011: “For all the parents who deserve a school system that expects every student to earn a diploma; for all the neighbors who deserve to walk home on safer streets; for all the taxpayers who deserve a city government that is more effective and costs less; and for all the people in the hardest-working city in America who deserve a strong economy so they can find jobs or create jobs — this is your day.”

His legacy: Emanuel left office after eight years with a mixed record, the Tribune reported.

Academic performance at Chicago schools improved and students can attend city community colleges for free, but Emanuel angered teachers during a heated strike and drew the ire of South and West side communities when he closed 50 schools.

Chicago homicides dropped to levels not seen since the 1960s for two years and the city hired 1,000 new cops, but the mayor also presided over two of the bloodiest years in decades and the Laquan McDonald police shooting served as a stain on his tenure, leading to a federal civil rights investigation and a consent decree forcing police reforms.

The city was on better financial footing and some poor budget practices ended, but to make it happen Emanuel passed a series of record tax and fee increases that fell disproportionately on poor and working-class Chicagoans while a deficit and a $1 billion pension crisis still loom.

Development in the Loop boomed, new corporate headquarters flocked to downtown and Chicago’s growing tech economy emerged, but amid the prosperity the mayor faced near-constant criticism that he left behind the city’s most struggling neighborhoods.

Through it all, Emanuel governed with a consistent chutzpah, deploying an in-your-face political persona he honed over his previous decades working at the White House and in Congress to pressure aldermen into backing his agenda, cajole business and union leaders into cutting deals and solicit tens of millions of dollars in campaign contributions that served as the bedrock of his political power.

Amid the accomplishments and controversies of Emanuel’s City Hall, the mayor tediously kept score. Allies got rewarded and enemies were remembered. No ranking or statistic was too small to cite if it conveyed victory, and there was no shortage of public relations spin to explain away defeats.

Whether it was school closings, a teachers strike or raising taxes, Emanuel rarely wavered from his most contentious decisions, a show-no-weakness style that grated on some Chicagoans.

After a stint in investment banking, Emanuel was confirmed as ambassador to Japan in late 2021.

Did you know: Then-Vice President Joe Biden and his wife Dr. Jill Biden attended Emanuel’s first inauguration.

Lori Lightfoot

Chicago’s 56th mayor (2019-2023)

Buoyed by a corruption scandal involving powerful Ald. Edward Burke, Lightfoot won all 50 wards in a 2019 runoff election against Cook County Board President Toni Preckwinkle, defeating the powerful Democratic Party chairwoman as badly as Mayor Richard M. Daley used to beat political has-beens and nobodies, and making history as the first Black female and first openly gay Chicago mayor.

What she said on May 20, 2019: During an approximately half-hour speech, Lightfoot drew from Chicago poet Gwendolyn Brooks and called for citywide unity in addressing public safety, education, financial stability and “integrity” — a reference to Chicago’s infamous corruption.

“For years, they’ve said Chicago ain’t ready for reform. Well, get ready because reform is here,” Lightfoot said in her inaugural address. “I campaigned on change, you voted for change, and I plan to deliver change to our government. That means restoring trust in our city’s government and finally bringing some real integrity to the way this city works.”

Her legacy: Lightfoot struggled through a storm of skyrocketing crime, the COVID-19 pandemic and a series of personality conflicts that left her labeled as a divisive leader who was unable to build political coalitions or maintain relationships.

Her failure to advance to a runoff election — finishing third in a nine-candidate race behind former Chicago Public Schools CEO Paul Vallas and Cook County Commissioner Brandon Johnson represents an astonishing fall from power four years after she was ushered into City Hall with a promise of reform.

It’s a political embarrassment unlike any suffered by a sitting mayor seeking reelection since Byrne — the first and only other female mayor of Chicago — lost the 1983 Democratic primary to Washington.

Did you know: Lightfoot used her last weekday as the city’s chief executive to issue a flurry of orders aimed at cementing some of her key initiatives that could force her successor to stay the course on some of her spending plans.

Brandon Johnson

Chicago’s 57th mayor (2023-Present)

Johnson is the city’s fourth Black mayor and, having turned 47 in March, one of its youngest mayors in recent decades. Richard M. Daley was almost exactly the same age when he took office on his 47th birthday in 1989.

What he said on May 15, 2023: Johnson began his sweeping remarks by shouting out the greatness of Chicago: the “beauty” of Lake Michigan, its “boundary-breaking” arts and cultural scene and even the signature Italian beef. And, ever eager to reference his former profession as a social studies teacher, he shouted out the unique history of Black Chicago, starting from its founder, the Haitian voyager Jean Baptiste Point DuSable, before broadening to the city’s tapestry of immigrants who hail from all corners of the earth.

“There is something special about this city, and I call it the soul of Chicago,” Johnson said. “It was alive in the hearts of tens of thousands who arrived here in the Great Migration, including my grandparents, who came to Chicago in search of a home. … It is the soul of Chicago that brought immigrants from all over the world to work, to organize, to build the first skyscraper.”

The new mayor’s speech struck an earnest tone with the humorous touches he was known for on the campaign trail.

While giving shoutouts to his large family and his late mother who always opened her door to relatives near and distant, he quipped, “I didn’t know how many cousins I had until I ran for mayor.” He amusedly remarked on his father’s profession as both a carpenter and pastor: “You understand the pressure of growing up in a house when your father is just like Jesus?”

Sources: Tribune reporting and archives; Chicago Public Library; “The Mayors: The Chicago Political Tradition” by Paul M. Green and Melvin G. Holli

Subscribe to the free Vintage Chicago Tribune newsletter, join our Chicagoland history Facebook group and follow us on Instagram for more from Chicago’s past.

krumore@chicagotribune.com

Twitter @rumormill