By ALICIA CALDWELL
© St. Petersburg Times, published February 17, 2001
Just hearing the phrase "The Griswold Dynasty" is enough to make him cringe.
William J. Griswold (please don't call him Bill) is a little peeved these days. All people can focus on, he said, is the fact that he and his wife have taken turns holding the St. Petersburg City Council District 2 seat for the past 16 years.
And now that Bea Griswold is leaving the seat because of term limits and William J. wants it back, it seems no one wants to talk about his efforts to build a U.S. veterans' memorial in Williams Park. Or his support of Bay Plaza, without which, he says, there would be no BayWalk, the buzzing downtown shopping and restaurant district.
The man wants to talk about issues, and all anyone wants to focus on is the family grip on the seat.
That grip, however, may be the issue in the Feb. 27 primary in which William J. faces two opponents.
Americans have long been infatuated with political families. Stephen Hess, a senior fellow at the Brookings Institute, counts some 700 families in which two or more members have served in Congress. They account for 1,700 of the 10,000 men and women who have been elected since 1774, he wrote in a column called Political Dynasties: An American Tradition.
"This is an odd phenomenon, a democratic electorate's love affair with a political royalty," wrote Hess.
Examples abound: Chicago has the Daleys. Massachusetts spawned the Kennedys. New York has Hillary Clinton in the U.S. Senate. Texas gave us the Bushes, with Jeb in our governor's mansion, his brother in the White House and, of course, the former president.
And St. Petersburg has . . . the Griswolds?
The spouse scenario usually is different, Hess said in a phone interview.
"The history of that is usually the husband is dead and the wife succeeds him," he said. "A lot of them are just seat warmers. But some of them become far better legislators than their spouse."
What does it take, I asked Hess, for voters to turn away from the cachet of a family with a political pedigree?
"They start getting a little sloppy," Hess said. "They take their constituents for granted."
Typically, voters just don't tire of a political brand name, especially one so well-established.
Say what you will about the Griswolds, but newcomers they aren't. William J., 72, a U.S. Air Force veteran, and Bea, 68, have lived in their north St. Petersburg district for 35 years.
Between them, they unsuccessfully ran at least 10 times for state and local offices in the 1960s and 1970s.
"I don't think there has been an election without a Griswold on the ballot," said political consultant Mary Repper.
The familiarity of the name, Repper predicts, will carry William J. back into office, despite what she calls lackluster performance from both of them. There are so many candidates -- 17 for five seats -- that voters will go to the name they know. Combine that with typically low voter turnouts for municipal elections, and she thinks he's a winner.
"If I were a betting person, I'd bet on it," said Repper, who is not representing anyone in the race. "It's sad. I think it's time for the Griswolds to give it up. What could they put on the table that they haven't had the chance to put on the table in 16 years?"
William J., however, finds the "family seat" talk quite irritating.
How about the value of experience? You know, a seasoned hand on the tiller. Why isn't anyone talking about his eight years on the City Council? He was the city's representative on a variety of boards, including Bayfront Medical Center and the University of South Florida.
"If people were unhappy with me, they wouldn't have elected Griswolds four times," he said. "If people don't want me, they'll let me know."
Well, folks, it's your call: Should they stay or should they go?