Michael Smerconish: Requiem for an era

8.21.08
Philadelphia Daily News

IT'S MONDAY night, and I've just joined the end of a long line waiting to enter a viewing in South Philadelphia. The obituary in the Daily News said it began at 6.  When I arrived at 7, the line was already wrapped two full blocks down Reed Street. I've been up since 3 a.m., and hosted two radio shows, but I don't regret the wait.

It's not often that you see an outpouring like this. Especially when half the town is down the Shore. It's a good thing for the several hundred of us snaking down the South Philly sidewalks that this August night isn't a particularly humid one.  

But it is a uniquely Philly scene. There's an old-time feel (the BlackBerry I'm tapping as I record these thoughts doesn't quite fit in) even though the crowd is fairly young. 

Every age group is represented, but most look to be in their 40s and 50s. Lots of closely cropped hair. Guys in suits, sport coats or open dress shirts.  Women wearing what women wear when guys dress like that. Several hold mass cards. There are plenty of appointed and elected officials. Many more are on public payrolls.  

I stand for awhile in front of a rowhouse with a Flyers banner hanging in the window alongside a sign saying: "Parking for Italians only, all others will be towed." 

Next door, an older woman in shorts, white sneakers and white socks sits on an immaculate stoop. There's a pot filled with colorful artificial flowers and an American flag. I'm thinking she cast a couple of votes for Frank Rizzo.

Cars are doubled-parked everywhere, but something tells me that'd be the case even without the funeral. 

I'M SURE IT'S somber inside the Rogers Funeral Home, but out here people are friendly and chatty. They know each other or know somebody who knows somebody. Lots of "How ya doin'?" and "Whaddya been up to?"

It's a glimpse of the way the city used to look 30 years ago. Very white and ethnic. And, in fact, I'm thinking that many of these people won't have far to travel to get back home, even if their kids are headed back to Cherry Hill or Broomall after the viewing ends. 

A scene like this reminds me how much the city has changed. The parents of those around me used to control City Hall, but those days are over. They don't have the votes anymore and haven't since the late 1970s. But they're together tonight to mourn the passing of the mother of two public figures. It's a matter of respect. The sort of thing we could use more of these days.

I wasn't sure whether I'd come. The kids are going back to school soon, and it would've been a nice night to grill. I didn't know the decedent. But I'm glad I'm here. I'm always glad when I get there. I've never regretted paying respects, but I've often been sorry when I didn't.

It's dark outside an hour and 20 minutes later, but I've rounded the corner at South 3rd Street. Near Garrett, a big-screen TV flickers through a picture window that sports a star for somebody serving overseas. People are still arriving. The line is even longer than when I first joined it, but it's time to turn off the BlackBerry and go inside.

A well-respected woman has passed. And so has an era. *

Listen to Michael Smerconish weekdays 5-9 a.m. on 1210/AM. Read him Sundays in the Inquirer. Contact him via the Web at www.mastalk.com.