After his arrival and just before we headed to the event, Frank said to me, “What is it that I am going to announce?”
I was flabbergasted. He had already forgotten! I explained to him about the nursing home facility and all the work that had been done, the involvement of the people of the town, the Department of Health, and all related organizations. I also mentioned there were many other issues that over the years we would have to tackle, like forestry, the fishery, and the local ferry service.
Off we went to the event and Frank suddenly became very animated, shook hands, mixed with the people, and everyone was in a good mood and happy to meet the premier. Dinner followed; no problems. Then the meeting was handled quickly and I introduced Frank.
He got up and began his speech—how glad he was to be here, wonderful town, great people, and so on. And he knows there are issues with roads, ferries, forestry, and the fishery, and that he and Brian are going to tackle them together. He also knows that the people of the town have been working hard to get a nursing home here in Springdale for the area.
“Well,” he said, “I am announcing that this new facility has been approved by government.”
The audience was in shock! No one thought that this would happen so quickly. There was still some work to do and the Department of Health was very careful in not getting the people’s hopes too high that it would happen that soon. Hey, but here it was, announced by the premier. And that was that.
Of course, I had to do a lot of shuffling in government to see that this commitment was realized; the Department of Health had to get approval from Cabinet, but this was the premier and he had committed government to it and that was final. Frank liked doing things like that and he did them often during his time as premier.
Another time when I was Municipal Affairs minister, he asked me to accompany him to his district. There was a fair amount of negativity coming from his district that he really had not visited, and this visit was to try to counter this local problem. Well, we ended up meeting with all the municipal councils on the north shore of the Bay of Islands. What a whirlwind series of events. At each meeting Frank would quickly commit to almost whatever the councils asked for. I was there interrupting and trying to smooth things out and keep some kind of lid on the dollar value and number of commitments that were being made.
Unfortunately, Frank could scheme and things were not always as they seemed. One of his favourites was to have his driver bring the premier’s car over early in the morning and park it in the premier’s parking spot. Everyone thought the premier was in early to work when he was still home, recuperating, often from a previous night’s intense activity. Additionally, he seemed to enjoy small numbers (I think he was more comfortable), and small Cabinet cliques and other business cliques developed early on in his premiership. There were always lots of rumours and backstabbing going on. This manifested itself in many unsavoury ways: one being the Public Works scandal involving a local electrical contractor and a later suspicious fire at one Cabinet minister’s apartment, as well as illegal fishing and hunting escapades. One of my first acts as premier was to rid ourselves of the fishing camps the government had in Labrador, which were often misused for partying and not legitimate government entertaining of dignitaries.
Let me record three particular instances on this theme.
I was only minister of Municipal Affairs and Housing a short while when early one morning I heard footsteps coming down the long hallway to my office. It was early and this had been the first time I heard someone else coming in that early. So I was suspicious. I got up from my desk, moved out into the hallway, and looked around. Two men were coming toward me. Who should this be but the premier, Frank Moores, and one Craig Dobbin (now deceased), a local influential businessman. Was I surprised! I called out good morning and as they got nearer I invited them into my office, more than certain it was me they were here to see.
There was this prime piece of land that Newfoundland and Labrador Housing Corporation had that interested Mr. Dobbin; the premier indicated that I should talk to the corporation about having it released and “handled in such a way” that Mr. Dobbin would get it. Well, I was taken aback by the subject and perhaps as much by the brazen approach the two were prepared to make to get the land. I indicated that this did not seem like it should be considered and that therefore doing such a thing was really something I was not prepared to do. Arm twisting ensued, but I stood firm, perhaps more so as the implication of what was being proposed sank in. It became clear to the two as I read their faces that they realized they had made a tactical error, thinking that I would bend under such a visit. So almost as quickly as they appeared they left with Frank, mumbling, “Well, Pecky, get on to the Housing Corporation today. I’m sure you can do something here to help.” I bid them a good morning. I did nothing about it. And Frank never raised it again.
Frank realized that I would not compromise on matters that were obviously unethical and bordering on the illegal. So other issues were kept from me that fell into this category as I continued in his Cabinet.
The sale of the Stephenville linerboard mill is a good example of this. This mill, poorly conceived by Smallwood, and unfortunately pursued and executed by Moores/Crosbie, was finally closed (after more than $300 million of taxpayers’ money) and then put up for sale. Given that it was owned by the government, a public process was instituted to see if there were any buyers manufacturing other paper products to run it, using wood from the island, not from Labrador, one of the fatal flaws of Linerboard’s demise. I found out (how, I do not remember; perhaps from another minister or a public servant), after the process had been under way for some time and the selection of a buyer was imminent, that there was likely “not so nice behind-the-scenes arrangements” going on that very day. This was late morning and I checked to see where the premier was and found out he was meeting in his dining room with several ministers. I barged into the meeting. I immediately inquired if the meeting was about the sale of the mill and was told that it was being discussed. I indicated that from information I was given, Abitibi-Price had submitted the best bid and that this seemed like a simple decision. Well, the premier and a number of the ministers began some advocacy of another bid by Consolidated-Bathurst, a company then owned by the prominent “behind-the-scenes mover and shaker” Montreal businessman Paul Desmarais. As a matter of fact, while I was arguing the point, Frank placed a call to Desmarais and a conversation ensued, only part of which I could hear. It seemed as if Frank was negotiating over the phone with Desmarais. After this phone conversation I made it clear that the mill must go to the company that submitted the best bid as determined by the public servants who were analyzing it and that I would be taking such a stand at the Cabinet table and that rigging one bid to make it seem the best bid after the fact would not work. I think I then walked out of the dining room. Later at a Cabinet meeting, a recommendation came forward for the mill to be sold to the best bidder, Abitibi-Price.
Perhaps an even more galling (in the sense that this was under my ministerial responsibility) event was the issue of a hydro deal with Quebec on the existing Upper Churchill development and the development of the much discussed Lower Churchill project. Frank had patched together a framework agreement with Premier Lévesque without my knowledge, and I found out about it the evening of the signing. The announcement was to be the next day. I remember hurrying to the premier’s office and inquiring as to what was happening. I was ushered into the premier’s office and informed of the arrangement. This was an unbelievable circumstance. For my purposes here, it reinforces the point already made about Frank’s modus operandi, his willingness to completely co-opt ministers, and the gall in thinking that everyone would just go along with what he had secretly negotiated, regardless of its merits and negative repercussions, economically or politically.
Disappointingly, Frank seemed not to get it. After doing such things and knowing I knew, he would continue in like manner. In 1978, rumours began circulating abou
t his pending resignation. I was in his office one day during this period and he informed me that he was going to resign very shortly and he thought he should tell me. Of course, I thanked him for the courtesy. He asked whether I intended to seek the leadership. I responded that this would be a big step and did not know if I would or not; I would have to talk it over with family and friends. He quickly responded that he thought I should, that I could be assured he would not take sides in the pending leadership competition. He was adamant about this and thought such a position would be good for the party—to have a wide-open race with the retiring leader remaining on the sidelines. Well, of course I took this with a grain of salt given my previous experiences with him, but his statements were so emphatic that I half-believed him. How foolish! He had no sooner resigned when he was secretly organizing for Bill Doody, one of his ministerial confidants and leading candidate to replace him.
These kinds of experiences greatly colour my views on the man, although most would say that he was the only one at the time who could unseat Smallwood. And I believe this is true. The early days of his administration saw major change in the way government operated, and most of this was to the good, including a Public Tender Act strongly influenced by Bill Marshall, a minister in Moores’s early Cabinet and later to be of tremendous assistance to me as minister of Energy.
On Frank’s passing, I issued the following:
Frank Moores, Premier of the Province of Newfoundland and Labrador 1972–1979. I first met Frank Moores in the provincial election campaign of 1972. What was most striking as this point was his passion for organization of the PC Party of Newfoundland and his desire to change the way politics was conducted in the province.
I served as executive assistant and parliamentary assistant to Premier Moores from 1972 to 1974. I served in Mr. Moores’s Cabinet from 1974 to 1979 in the portfolios of Municipal Affairs and Housing, Mines and Energy, and Rural and Northern Development.
Mr. Moores delegated responsibility. This was a major sea change in the conduct of government, contrasting sharply with previous administrations in the province. While much attention over the years has been paid to his time in Ottawa as a consultant, little attention has been paid to the fundamental changes that were accomplished under his administrations.
Simply put, it was under Frank Moores’s leadership that governance in the provincial government entered the twentieth century. The Public Tender Act brought accountability and transparency to the conduct of business between the private sector and government. Now companies and the public were assured that if one bid on government work that price and ability would be the criteria by which proposals were judged, and not political connections and influence.
Secondly, the strengthening of the public service, the Public Service Commission, and the organization of government were further important reforms that occurred in Mr. Moores’s administrations.
Thirdly, and arguably Mr. Moores’s greatest legacy, was his approach to resource development in the province. Rather than participating in the depopulation of rural Newfoundland, he actively fostered a reinvigorated rural Newfoundland through the Department of Rural Development, a bolstered Department of Fisheries, active enlightened fishery policy (which often contrasted with the federal approach and contributed to the province having influence in overall fishery policy for the first time since Confederation), and progressive forestry policy.
It was under Mr. Moores’s administrations and leadership that the genesis for all future offshore oil and gas policy was formed and articulated. Mr. Moores was one of the first leaders who spoke for real provincial influence and self-reliance and who fought the federal dependency idea that had become prevalent in the first three decades of Confederation.
A. Brian Peckford
JOEY SMALLWOOD
Of course, from the time I was seven or eight years old I had heard the name “Joey Smallwood.” He was a fixture in Newfoundland politics when I was growing up. He was the premier. He was the boss man. I saw him in action as a teenager at a rally in Lewisporte where he invoked admiringly the names of Sir William Whiteway and Sir Richard Squires. Of course, it was much later that I discovered the shady deals of Squires, but he was supposed to have put the hum on the Humber and Smallwood liked that. The next time I saw him was when I was prancing up Elizabeth Avenue with everyone else at the opening of the new campus of Memorial University. An additional university experience was when he showed up with full Cabinet on stage as he announced grants and salaries for students attending university. I remember it as a sort of surreal experience. I had had experience as a temporary social worker by this time and this lavish display of new money seemed so out of place given the many social problems I had experienced, not least of which was the meagre assistance that was provided to widows, children, and disabled people. Later in the House of Assembly when Smallwood sat in Opposition as head of a Liberal Reform Group, I remember debating with him late one evening about the Upper Churchill contract. It was clear that Smallwood was about the business of trying to justify, for the record, the many dubious deals in which he was involved, and of course this included the infamous contract. In true form, Smallwood went on for a long time. Finally, at one point I rose to rebut him, lamenting the lack of an escalator clause on the price being charged by Newfoundland in the contract, exclaiming that the Greeks in classical times were aware of inflation. Two further encounters have already been related: his phone call to me during the heady days of 1971–72 and his appearance at the formation of the Green Bay Liberal Association.
One further encounter when I was premier is perhaps the most revealing.
The only living father of confederation, Joseph R. Smallwood, was still active in the early eighties attempting to complete his Book of Newfoundland. His company had a building off Portugal Cove Road in St. John’s and several people were hired to assist Smallwood in completing the work. I wasn’t impressed with the work to date on the project, but it was something Smallwood wanted to do, so several “old friends” (no doubt who had benefited from Smallwood’s largess in times past) had helped finance some of it and people were hired to assist.
It was during this period that I received a frantic call (was there any other kind?) from Joey imploring me to meet with him as soon as possible because he had this fantastic opportunity for Newfoundland to describe to me—that it was something beyond the wildest dreams of the most optimistic of our citizens. Aware of Smallwood’s weakness for hyperbole, I took this sudden new opportunity with the more than usual grain of salt and told him that over the next couple of days I’m sure we could meet to more fully discuss this exciting development. Well, this could not wait for a few days; it was doubtful, he insisted, if this could wait a few hours. So not unlike others before me, I succumbed to this typically brazen Smallwoodian approach. I invited him for dinner that evening at the premier’s dining room at the Confederation Building. It was a night to remember! How many people have spent twelve continuous hours with the man?
The province’s own flag debate was raging at the time. I had introduced a bill in the legislature which would see to it that the province had its own flag. Up to then we were using the Union Jack and I was intent on changing that. A select committee of the legislature had held public hearings, designs for the new flag were invited from the public, and the committee had reported and recommended a design created by the well-known artist Christopher Pratt.
“You can’t do that!” Smallwood said as he settled in to the dining room table.
“Do what?” I said.
“You can’t go ahead with that silly flag. Don’t you realize you will be dead politically?”
“Well, times have changed,” I responded. “I think the province is ready for it.”
“This is crazy; haven’t you heard the open-line shows? The Canadian Legion is against it, the Catholics will never support it. Stop it before it is too late,” he shouted.
“Well, I can’t stop it now, and furthermore, I don’t want to
stop it,” I replied firmly. “We must have our own symbols; it’s important for our own identity, of who we are, and what we can become. The Old Country is not this place. And all the provinces have their own flag and we must establish ourselves in every way possible.”
This did not go down very well. I could hear Smallwood grumbling under his breath. The evening was off to a rocky start.
Undeterred, Smallwood continued to explain his many encounters with the veterans and the strong opposition of the Catholics to the Confederation battles in the late 1940s. They would bring the government down and I should not be picking fights with them. I should be getting on with more important issues and leave this alone.
I did not remember the next day what we had had for dinner that night; the discussion consumed everything. There was no pause.
“And I have the issue and the opportunity, right now,” exclaimed Joey.
“You have?” I answered sheepishly.
“Yes I do. We are ready to open the Come By Chance refinery. Shaheen has the money arranged, I guarantee it,” he proudly announced.
And so began a frenzy of discussion about the Great Refinery and Mr. Shaheen and how only he and Mr. Shaheen could get the thing going again.
The Come By Chance refinery was the brainchild of Smallwood and Shaheen during the late sixties and early seventies and opened with great fanfare in the early seventies (I was there), with the ship the Queen Elizabeth II docked in Placentia Bay for the gala affair. Unfortunately, the whole enterprise failed in short order and it became at the time the largest bankruptcy in Canadian history. It was partly because of the financing required of the government that saw John Crosbie and Clyde Wells break with Smallwood and form their own Liberal Reform Group and attack the deal from the Opposition benches. After the closedown of the refinery, the Newfoundland Conservative government was able to negotiate with the Liberal government in Ottawa for Petro-Canada, then a federal Crown Corporation, to keep the assets in good standing for a period of time so that the provincial government could look for new owners. After the set period of time, the refinery could be dismantled and sold for scrap.
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