Ray Mariano: The Jordan Levy I knew

When he got on a roll, Jordan Levy could really get cranked up. One day, he was debating an issue on the floor of the City Council and he was spitting mad. His voice was booming, his eyes were bulging and he kept tugging on his belt, jerking it left and then right. I thought the poor guy was going to have a stroke. By the time he finished speaking, there wasn’t a bit of oxygen left in the room.

As he started to sit down, I looked over to make sure that he was OK. Jordan gave me a quick look and a wink. He was having a blast.

Welcome to the Jordan Levy Show.

Jordan Levy was a Worcester original. Everyone who has every voted for him, watched him speak on the floor of the City Council, loved him, hated him or listened to him on the radio had to admit that he was one of a kind.

More: Jordan Levy, former Worcester mayor and radio host, dies at 79

Jordan burst onto the Worcester political scene in 1975 during the property reevaluation hearings. I often reminded him that back then he used to wear the worst-looking suits I had ever seen. One of them, a cream-colored Panama suit, made him look like he belonged on the streets of Cuba. The only candidate who looked worse was me in my carnival barker sportcoats. We have been friends ever since.

From the time he was first elected, Jordan’s fiery rhetoric got everyone’s attention. Most people loved him, others hated him. But no one ignored him.

Jordan’s popularity meant that he could get away with things that no one else could. In one of his early campaigns he heard people saying that he was “two-faced.” So he ran an ad in the Telegram & Gazette with the headline, “Some people say I’m two-faced.” Below the headline were two pictures. In one of the pictures, Jordan was clean-shaven and looking in one direction. In the other, he had a beard and was looking in the opposite direction. Below the pictures it said something like “whichever face you like, vote for Jordan Levy.” I still laugh every time I think of that ad.

One of my most vivid memories of Jordan was an encounter when he wasn’t even present. I was campaigning outside of Immaculate Conception Church. An older gentleman, blue-collar type, was dropping his wife off at bingo. I approached his car and asked him to sign my nomination papers for the Worcester School Committee. In a heavy Polish accent, the man asked me what I thought of Jor-dan Lee-vy.

At that point, I had no idea how the man felt about Jordan. For all I knew he could have hated him. As I fumbled around with my response, he cut me off. With his two fists clenched and in his most formidable voice, he said, “Jor-dan Lee-vy makes me proud to be American citizen!” Of course, I told him how much I loved Jordan and he quickly signed my nomination papers and then left.

Jordan was proud of his faith. I remember sitting in a room at a candidate’s forum at Clark University. Jordan had just refused to give Rev. Jesse Jackson a key to the city because Jackson had insulted Jews by referring to New York City as “Hymietown.” That night, in front of this very liberal audience, Jordan showed up knowing that he’d get a cool reception. When he was introduced to speak, everyone sat silently. I was the only person in the room who applauded.

And then there was Jordan the prankster. One day a citizen, known for being especially long-winded, showed up at his front door to talk about an environmental issue. This man was a regular attendee at City Council meetings. Rather than let him into his home, Jordan told him that Ray Mariano’s committee handles that issue and why don’t you go and visit him. He just lives down the street. “Tell him the mayor sent you.” Once the guy showed up at my house, it took me more than an hour to get back to my Saturday. Later that day, Jordan called me. He couldn’t stop laughing.

Some of my fondest memories of Jordan involve his wife, Maxine, and their two young daughters. I remember helping Maxine push a baby stroller over the bumpy turf at East Park. And I recall how Maxine was afraid to drive her car during inclement weather. So when snow was forecast, Jordan would drive her to and from work at Burncoat Senior High.

Maxine was fiercely loyal to Jordan. But she also knew that she needed to give him perspective. More than once, when he went on a rant about something, I saw her look at him and gently roll her eyes. It was her way of telling him to tone it down.

Every once in a while, after I retired from elective office, someone would stop me realizing that they recognized me but not being able to place exactly who I was. On a couple of occasions, I reluctantly admitted that “I’m Jordan Levy.” Invariably the person would go on and on about how much they loved me when I was mayor or how much they loved my radio show. Jordan really loved those stories. He especially got a laugh when I told him that one guy, thinking I was Jordan, told me, “I’d recognize your voice anywhere.”

I called Jordan a few weeks ago to see how he was doing. We talk about politics, about our children and grandchildren. I’m glad I got one last chance to talk to my old friend.

After all these years, one thing about Jordan stands out to me. Of all of the people I have ever met in elective office, I have never met anyone who had more fun doing their job. He loved the debates and fighting for lost causes. He loved the people he met, the limelight that followed him, and the city of Worcester.

Like I said, Jordan Levy was a Worcester original.

Email Raymond V. Mariano at rmariano.telegram@gmail.com. He served four terms as mayor of Worcester and previously served on the City Council and School Committee. He grew up in Great Brook Valley and holds degrees from Worcester State College and Clark University. He was most recently executive director of the Worcester Housing Authority. His column appears weekly in the Sunday Telegram. His endorsements do not necessarily reflect the position of the Telegram & Gazette.

This article originally appeared on Telegram & Gazette: Ray Mariano on former Worcester mayor and talk show host Jordan Levy