CT bids farewell to Jodi Rell, the governor who calmed a crisis

A lone bagpiper played an ancient Irish tune, The Minstrel Boy, as a hearse bearing the body of Connecticut’s 87th governor, M. Jodi Rell, glided to a stop by the broad brick walk leading to the north portico of the state Capitol.

On a summer’s day 20 years ago, Rell marched to the same spot to take the oath of office, succeeding a governor who had resigned in the face of an impeachment inquiry. She then welcomed the public in a receiving line, staying until she had shaken the last hand, finishing in stocking feet after kicking off her high heels.

There was one last receiving line Tuesday in the east atrium of the Capitol, hard by the statue of Nathan Hale. Rell would lie in state for four hours before her funeral, her coffin draped by the blue flag of the state she served as a state representative, lieutenant governor and governor from 1985 to 2011.

As Lawrence F. Cafero, a former House Republican leader and one of the mourners in line Tuesday, recalled of her inaugural: It was cloudy at the start, but the sun eventually shone on the new governor.

Rell, a Republican who finished the last six months of her predecessor’s third term and was elected in 2006 to a four-year term of her own, died in Florida on Nov. 20 after a brief illness. She was the second woman elected governor of Connecticut.

“She didn’t seek the limelight,” Gov. Ned Lamont said later in a eulogy a few blocks away at the Cathedral of St. Joseph. “But then one day, the limelight found her — big time. Jodi Rell became Gov. Rell, almost overnight, a very, very complicated time in our state.”

In a pew nearby sat John G. Rowland, the proximate cause of that complicated time.

Rowland was the governor who had chosen Rell as his running mate in 1994 then resigned a decade later rather than face a certain impeachment vote in the House. He later pleaded guilty to a federal corruption charge arising from bid-rigging and was sentenced to one year and a day in prison.

A member of the National Guard had escorted him to the front of the vast cathedral, seating him with other politicians — Lamont, former U.S. Sen. Chris Dodd and former Gov. Dannel P. Malloy, among them.

Lamont talked about Rell’s role in healing Connecticut, something that the governor saw no need to explain further. He spoke of Rell’s small kindnesses: the note sent to Lamont after his mother’s death; the care package that Francis J. Evon, now the adjutant general of the Connecticut National Guard, received in Afghanistan.

She had been expected Friday at the annual holiday open house at the Executive Residence. When her son called him two weeks ago, Lamont expected a confirmation she would attend once again, greeting delighted visitors at the door and insisting she be called Jodi.

“He gave me a very different message,” Lamont said.

When she died, Rell did have a plane ticket and plans to come back for Thanksgiving to Connecticut, where her daughter and son, Meredith O’Connor and Michael Rell, and their spouses and Rell’s grandchildren live. Her usual routine was to stay through Christmas, then head south before the new year.

Son and daughter delivered eulogies. Meredith recalled a mother with great empathy, though little tolerance for self-pity when things went awry.

“She would let you have a two-minute pity party, but then it was time to splash your face, square your shoulders and face what came next,” she said. Her voice broke as she addressed her mother: “I’ll gather myself. I will square my shoulders, but Mom, I hope you understand that I need more than two minutes this time, because it hurts. Know that we will miss you greatly. I love you, Mom.”

Her brother embraced her.

At the Capitol, a police and military honor guard had awaited the hearse, which arrived as scheduled — a half hour before the 10 a.m. start, when her family would receive mourners. Six military men bore the coffin, climbing the steps to a called cadence.

“Ready! Step.”

They carried the coffin to a bier of cherry wood, on loan from a local funeral director, John C. Carmon. A legislative facilities manager said it was the same model the Reagan and Bush families chose when the former presidents lied in state at the U.S. Capitol.

A rotating honor guard, one Capitol police officer and one member of the military, stood at attention on either side. Her official portrait, borrowed from the Museum of Connecticut History on the other side of Capitol Avenue, faced the casket.

The family retired to a borrowed caucus room, where M. Lisa Moody, who served Rell as chief of staff for nearly all her 16 years as lieutenant and governor, waited to greet them. Moody was hobbled by recent foot surgery.

Paddi LeShane and Jackie Bernstein were there. Like Moody and Rell, they all were active in the Connecticut Women’s Council, a professional and social networking group.

The family held a private wake the previous day in Brookfield, the community Rell represented in the House. The home where Rell and her husband, Lou, raised their children is now owned by her daughter. 

The former governor had kept a condo in town, though she was a snow bird, a retiree with a legal residence in Florida. Lou Rell died a decade ago at 73. Their daughter looks and sounds like the mother, and she smiled whenever the resemblance was noted. The son favors the father.

The formality of a governor lying in state didn’t last long, as a line formed, nearly all of the early arrivals with some connection to Connecticut politics and its 87th governor.

“I had to sneak over and see my friend,” Paul Doyle said.

Doyle is a Superior Court judge who sits in criminal court, two blocks south of the Capitol. He was a House member during Rell’s 10 years in the House and later was elected to the Senate.

Peter Nystrom, the mayor of Norwich and a former House member, was already there. Soon, others followed: James A. Amann, who became House speaker in 2005, sometimes clashing with Rell over issues — once drawing the ire of his wife, who admonished him to be nicer.

Thomas D. Ritter, one of Amann’s predecessors as speaker, chatted with Jack Betkoski and Michael Caron, two former lawmakers now serving on the Public Utilities Regulatory Authority. Herb Shepardson, the Republican chair when Rell was governor, was behind them.

At 10 a.m., the family emerged to greet Lamont and Lt. Gov. Susan Bysiewicz, the latter of whom had served in the House with Rell. Lamont and Bysiewicz were the first to pause by the casket, then chat with the family. Lying in state had become a wake.

House Speaker Matt Ritter, a Democrat, and House Minority Leader Vincent J. Candelora, a Republican, arrived together. Senate Minority Leader Stephen Harding, R-Brookfield, left the line to join them. Then he returned to his place in line, explaining that Rell, who held the House seat that Harding would occupy before going to the Senate, had a thing about not jumping lines.

Cafero, a Republican, stood in line in front of Tom Swan, the director of the Connecticut Citizen Action Group, a liberal activist in Democratic causes.

Swan was one of organizers behind an effort to pass campaign finance reform the year after Rell took office. Rell wanted bans on contributions from contractors and lobbyists, but not the public financing of campaigns sought by Swan and others.

Ultimately, Rell accepted a version with public financing. On Tuesday, Swan said her initial reluctance was immaterial.

“She signed it,” Swan said.

There were other things about Rell that Swan admired, including signing a law that gave early marriage rights to same-sex couples under a civil unions law. She later signed a gay marriage bill enacting a court order. Medicaid expanded under Rell, and the tax code got more progressive, even if it was through a budget Rell allowed to take effect without her signature.

“She was a good governor,” Swan said, his voice low as he approached the casket and Rell’s family. 

An initial rush subsided after 45 minutes, but a stream of others continued into the afternoon. Liz Kurantowicz, a former Rell aide who later would read a prayer at the funeral, wore a scarf, a tribute to her former boss’s fashion signature.

“This is a Rell scarf,” Kurantowicz, pointing to a state seal. There would be other scarves in church, worn by women who exchanged smiles and nods of recognition.

Donald E. Williams Jr., the former Senate president pro tem, is a Democrat who led the opposition to the Republican governor but noted it was an opposition without rancor. 

Williams moved up the pecking order at the Capitol the same time as Rell. When Rowland resigned and Rell became governor, William’s predecessor as Senate leader, Kevin B. Sullivan, automatically succeeded Rell as lieutenant governor. Williams was then chosen as the new Senate leader.  Sullivan would be in church.

After greeting the family, the mourners paused to sign a guest book that sat on a lectern by three easels holding photos.

The National Guard had brought pictures of Rell at events for Operation ELF, the guard’s annual toy drive. It was a pet cause of Rell’s. The photos were displayed on easels off to the side, near an illuminated Christmas tree.

At the funeral, former WTIC-AM morning host Ray Dunaway, who had befriended the Rells, reminded everyone the day was “Giving Tuesday.” Old habits die hard, and the old radio host gave a plug for Operation ELF.

The mourners who entered the cathedral in bright sunshine exited to gathering clouds. There was a hint of a snow.