I’ve known him since he was the first King County Executive in 1969, eager to move up to governor but forced to wait in the wings while fellow Republican Dan Evans agonized whether to go for a third term, and then for a fourth.

Back in those days, Spellman was a tweedy-looking character with an ever-present pipe.

He looked comfortably middle-aged, despite gleaming black hair kept that way we all suspected, courtesy of the wonderful world of chemicals. Rumor had it the youthful locks were at the direction of wife Lois. No silver haired daddy for her.

It was a great disappointment to Spellman when Evans opted for a third term in 1972.

He bided his time until 1976; announcing his candidacy for governor, even before Evans dismissed the thought of a fourth term try. Unfortunately for Spellman, that was the year the women of Washington state, Democrats and Republicans, eagerly elected their first woman governor in Democrat Dixy Lee Ray.

That eagerness wore off as Dixy’s tenure proved a stormy one and Spellman was on deck again in 1980. When Dixy was knocked off by Jim McDermott in the primary, it was a new Spellman going all over the state blasting the senator as, “that liberal Seattle psychiatrist.” He’d let his hair go natural silver, dropped some poundage and quit wearing his father’s old suits. He even got rid of the pipe, although it proved to be only temporary.

The Olympia media, which had been in a constant feud with Dixy, were ecstatic when he won. The incoming governor assured reporters that press conferences were back on again, and any reporter who needed five or ten minutes with him had only to drop by the office.

The Legislature was equally welcoming and Spellman belted out a few tunes from the House rostrum in his fine Irish tenor. His pal Sen. Peter von Reichbauer, left the Democrats for the Republicans, giving them the majority. Spellman had it all.

But two months later, it became evident that while he brought a style, a verve, to the office of governor, he was a fence straddler. He waltzed around every issue from usury to teacher salaries to civil service for ferry workers. Where Dixy made snap judgments without consulting anybody, Spellman consulted everybody — and still pondered. His office became known as John’s Waffle Shop.

News conferences gradually died out or were scheduled on call, mostly to accommodate the deadlines of the two Seattle morning newspapers. He angered legislators by making appointments in their districts without consulting them. He insisted on tax increases to meet the problems of a burgeoning recession and signed nearly $1 billion of them.

By 1983, the handicapping in the House when he appeared to address joint sessions was so restrained it was embarrassing. That was the year he named Evans to the U.S. Senate vacancy created when Henry Jackson died suddenly. Evans was not his first choice, but he was the Republican deemed most likely to hold the seat in the fall election.

Throughout all this, however, Spellman remained one of the most likeable people around. He was ever the gentleman, a fact, I learned on a fishing trip I went on where he was a fellow guest, and fun to be with. On the dock, we ran into a kid dressed like a punk rocker. "What do they call you,” asked the governor. “Shorts—-t,” said the kid. “Well, you look like it,” said Spellman, who doesn’t tolerate such language.

Happy 80th birthday, John. You may not have been the greatest governor we ever had, but you sure weren’t the worst. You didn’t do anything to make us ashamed of you.

(Adele Ferguson can be reached at P.O. Box 69, Hansville, WA, 98340.).