An Undaunted Morrow Pushes Ahead in Uphill Race

Like all long-shot candidates, Floyd Morrow realizes he needs all the free publicity he can get in his uphill race against San Diego Mayor Maureen O’Connor.

And so, last week, Morrow traveled to the San Ysidro Chamber of Commerce meeting in search of a campaign forum and, he hoped, some much needed press coverage.

The good news for Morrow was that a television crew covered the luncheon and--thanks to some political chutzpah on his part--interviewed him.

The bad news was that the crew was from a Tijuana station.

‘You Take Your Chances’

“Well, you take your chances at these things,” Morrow later said philosophically. “You never know what you’re going to find or whether it’s worth the time.”

So it goes in Morrow’s unabashedly quixotic campaign to unseat O’Connor in the June 7 mayoral primary. With the three other minor candidates on the ballot--semi-retired public relations official John Kelley, City Hall gadfly Rose Lynne and businessman Charles Ulmschneider--expected to collectively receive only several percentage points of the vote, either O’Connor or Morrow is likely to surpass the 50% majority needed to avoid a November runoff.

By conventional standards, the former three-term San Diego City Council member and local Democratic Party chairman appears to have little chance of upsetting the better-known, better-financed O’Connor. She won the $60,000-a-year post in a special 1986 election necessitated by Roger Hedgecock’s felony conviction. Morrow, a 55-year-old lawyer, finished third in that race, with 19% of the vote, behind O’Connor and then-Councilman Bill Cleator.

A Stance of Silence

A prohibitive favorite in recent polls, O’Connor, adopting a common front-runner’s strategy, has refused to participate in the series of community forums and debates that marked recent mayoral campaigns. O’Connor’s above-the-fray stance not only has lessened public and press interest in an already somnolent campaign widely viewed as a race more in name than in fact, but it also has largely eliminated opportunities for Morrow to, as his campaign coordinator, Gary Sheler, put it, “draw blood” in face-to-face encounters.

Morrow, however, seems to almost relish his underdog status, saying he has grown accustomed to being underestimated throughout a political career in which he has won 12 of 19 races.

To win his first council race in 1965, Morrow proudly noted, he borrowed $1,000 against his GI life insurance and, with “a lot of hustle and a little luck,” won an 11-candidate election in which “the experts picked me to finish seventh or eighth.” And, although he lost his 1986 mayoral race, his 19% vote total was “two or three times better than the polls and experts predicted,” he said.

In for a Surprise?

“To win when no one expects you to--well, that makes victory so much sweeter,” said Morrow, a medium-built man with a well-tanned complexion and black hair that is streaked with gray.

“Maureen is doing just what Van Deerlin did, and may end up being just as surprised the day after the election,” Morrow said, referring to former Rep. Lionel Van Deerlin (D-San Diego), who was upset in 1980 by Duncan Hunter, an opponent he took too lightly.

“When they get really confident, a little cocky, that’s when they’re easy to handle,” Morrow said. “Maureen’s not running against an unknown, even though she’s acting like she is.”

Whether Morrow’s comments are simply an exercise in self-delusion or the prelude to a political upset of the first magnitude remains to be seen. But, with five weeks remaining in the mayoral primary, the consensus of most political observers is that the 1-23 Baltimore Orioles are about as likely to make it to the World Series as Morrow is to make it to the 11th floor of City Hall.

Press Attention Crucial

His admittedly slim chances of defying the odds, Morrow acknowledges, hinge largely on whether the press begins to pay more attention to his campaign--and, in so doing, focuses a critical eye on what he describes as O’Connor’s “non-campaign campaign.”

“I know that (the press) and a few of the other power brokers in this city would like to pretend . . . there isn’t a mayor’s race,” he said. “But, with just a little fairness and responsibility from the press, that can change.

“There’s some open hostility to Maureen in the community, and her idea of, ‘If I don’t let people know there’s a race, I can’t lose,’ is hurting her,” Morrow said. “People expect candidates to debate and defend their records. The fact that she’s unwilling to do that tells you something. After all, this is an election, not a coronation.”

‘Arrogance of Incumbency’

O’Connor has agreed to participate in only one televised debate with Morrow and the other candidates, prompting Morrow to charge that the mayor, who in her past campaigns often hailed the merits of frequent debates, is displaying the “arrogance of incumbency.” O’Connor, however, vehemently denies that her campaign is the mayoral equivalent of a Rose Garden strategy.

“People already know where Maureen O’Connor stands, they know where Floyd Morrow stands, and they don’t need to hear it all over again to make up their minds,” O’Connor said, noting that she, Morrow and other candidates debated nearly two dozen times in the 1986 race. “Besides, things are different now. My first priority is running the city, not campaigning.”

Moreover, O’Connor takes considerable comfort from one telling fact that dramatizes the lopsided political arithmetic governing the race.

“Even if Floyd doubles the votes he got last time,” O’Connor said, “it’s still not enough to win.”

Searching for Limelight

In the absence of nightly debates or other typical campaign events, news coverage of the race has been limited. That has left Morrow, in his own words, searching for a way to “put my own oar in the water” to attract attention--an effort that has led to occasional gimmickry, such as his challenge last month to debate Helen Copley, publisher of the San Diego Union and Tribune, whom he characterized as “the real power behind Maureen O’Connor’s throne.”

Morrow, though, has been nothing if not dogged in his pursuit of a prize that most believe is well beyond his grasp. On most days, he attends up to half a dozen community meetings, group luncheons or sporting events, often with a handful of campaign volunteers to pass out literature. Sheler, half-jokingly, says the campaign’s motto should be: “Tell us a place where there’s more than 10 people, and Floyd will be there!”

Two years ago, Morrow spent nearly $110,000, including about $80,000 of his own money, in his campaign. He said he expects to spend about the same overall amount this year, but hopes he will have to rely less on his own funds. Most of the money will be spent on radio commercials, which have already begun airing, and on TV ads he plans to run later this month.

Receptions Are Mixed

Given the low profile of the race, it is not surprising that Morrow encounters mixed receptions at his campaign stops. Some groups welcome his standard stump speech, while others--seemingly unwilling to waste their time on the lackluster race--merely note his presence and move on to other business. At the San Ysidro meeting, for example, Morrow stood unannounced at the back of a room for nearly an hour before injecting himself into the discussion, then used that opening to shake several dozen hands.

An affable person with just a hint of his native Texas in his voice, Morrow is consistently upbeat in his campaign appearances--a style that strikes a responsive chord with many voters.

“People appreciate that at least one candidate is out there campaigning, that I’m offering people a choice,” argues Morrow, who lives in Kearny Mesa with his wife of 34 years, Marlene. “There may not be a lot of stories about this race, but there’s a growing awareness that there is an election. We tend to underestimate word of mouth and the intelligence of voters.”

Does Anybody Care?

The current level of public interest in the race, however, is, at best, a debatable proposition.

“I’d say that the average person in South Bay--and probably in the rest of the city, too--doesn’t even know there’s a mayor’s race going on,” said San Ysidro community activist Paul Clark, an unsuccessful candidate in last year’s 8th District City Council race. “People in the Chamber of Commerce and the political types might know it, but that’s a small percentage of the community. I think that’s a real problem for Floyd.”

But if the political odds facing Morrow appear insurmountable, they pale in comparison to others that he has overcome in his personal and professional life.

Born in a Tent

Born in a church-donated tent in Texas during the Depression, abandoned by his father and adopted at age 4 by an oil-pipeline worker whose frequent job moves provided a nomadic existence, Morrow grew up to become a successful lawyer with a six-figure income, a San Diego councilman from 1965-1977, and a chairman of the San Diego County Democratic Central Committee.

“This country has been very good to Floyd Morrow,” he said. “This city has been very good to Floyd Morrow. And I’d like to give something back.”

During his 12 years on the council, Morrow encouraged greater public involvement in city government and developed a strong environmental record. An ardent supporter of community planning groups, he also pushed for development of a water-recycling project that since has gained international attention, and he helped create the Tecolote Canyon Preserve and the city’s environmental growth fund.

Early Critic of SDG&E;

Long before it became politically stylish, Morrow was a persistent critic of San Diego Gas & Electric Co.’s rates. In 1967, he helped lead an unsuccessful battle for public ownership of the utility system when SDG&E;’s franchise came up for approval--an effort that led to an increase in the franchise fee paid by the company, money used for preservation of open space.

Over the years, Morrow has drawn more amusement than criticism for his advocacy of the economic philosophy of Henry George, a 19th-Century economist and politician who favored a single tax on land, accompanied by the elimination of all other taxes. In his 1986 race, Morrow drew open snickers from many of his fellow candidates when he proposed that a new currency be created along the U. S.-Mexico border in an effort to avoid problems stemming from devaluation of the peso.

“If you aren’t receptive to new ideas, you find yourself being stuck with a lot of old problems,” he responded.

Seeks ‘Freeholders Convention’

One of the “new ideas” Morrow discusses most in his campaign appearances is a proposal for a “freeholders convention,” consisting of one man and one woman from each census tract in the city, to rewrite the City Charter. Later, that group or a similar one could meet periodically to advise the council on major policy issues, he said.

Another major component of his “Blueprint for Our Future” calls for “increased recognition and protection . . . of the air and the land and the water”--a broadly defined goal for which he has provided few specifics.

Sharply critical of O’Connor’s performance, Morrow, mixing metaphors, dismisses her record as “two years of treading water or backsliding” on major issues ranging from growth management and crime to sewage treatment.

No ‘Depth of Thought’

In particular, he faults O’Connor for abandoning the city’s longtime resistance to federal demands for construction of a $1-billion-plus secondary sewage treatment facility, which he argues is unnecessary, and he contends she has been ineffectual in a wide array of other areas.

“I honestly don’t think she’s up to the job,” Morrow said. “I sat next to her for six years on the council and never saw much depth of thought. And I still don’t.

“The real power in the mayor’s office is the power to lead and persuade. That’s what’s missing in that office now. If Maureen O’Connor were a leader, she wouldn’t be afraid to defend her record. That’s the real difference between us.

“Not everyone may like what I have to say on every issue,” Morrow said. “But at least I’m not afraid to say where I’ve been and where I want to go.”