After six years, King, columnist share encounter

If you are old enough, or just like old movies, you might remember the 1955 movie classic, “Mr. Roberts,” a bittersweet comedy about World War II starring James Cagney, Henry Fonda and Jack Lemmon. Cagney was the autocratic captain of a Navy vessel. Fonda was his chief antagonist arguing for the rights of the men. Lemmon won an Academy Award as Ensign Pulver, the “laundry and morale officer” who lives in fear of the fiery captain and avoids him at all costs.

They are on the ship at sea for months when Lemmon and Cagney finally meet. “Who is that man” Cagney bellows. “And what is he doing on my ship?”

The scene came to mind last week when veteran State House political columnist Mike Brown finally met Gov. Angus King in the bowels of the redecorated State Office Building also known as the SOB.

For the first six years of the King administration, Brown had successfully avoided meeting the governor he so richly skewers once a week in his syndicated column. Brown states that he refuses to be “corrupted” by the traditional press conferences, refuses to attend and soundly attacks all who do. Those who read his columns term them vitriolic toward King, at their kindest.

Several years ago, Brown even refused to walk to the governor’s office to pick up a copy of the budget. When press aide Dennis Bailey refused to deliver the budget, Brown filed a formal Freedom of Information complaint. He had never spoken to the governor during the six years of his administration.

The twain finally met when King came down for an informal tour of the new press digs. King walked by Brown’s open door and asked “Who is in here?” much like James Cagney did.

NEWS veteran State House reporter, A. J. Higgins, recognized the possibilities and quickly ushered the governor into Brown’s tiny, windowless office. After the introductions, Gov. King said, “So you are Mike Brown,” and shook his hand. The governor turned on the charm, and quickly remembered that Brown had written a book about Maine lobster fishing. King even quoted from the book.

Brown was much more polite to the governor than he is to the rest of the press corps and chatted away about the book and his tiny, windowless office. Although Brown never has visitors, he has four “guest chairs” in the office acquired under suspicious circumstances. After King left, Brown said he still would refuse to attend the governor’s press conferences on general principle. But he did admit that the governor was not the very worst person on the planet.

Brown has had several careers, including that of columnist at National Fisherman and that of editor of the The Republican Journal in Belfast during the polluted reign of the chicken companies. The pollution in Belfast Harbor was so bad that a national newsmagazine compared it to salty chicken soup.

To the dismay of many, Brown penned a series of tough editorials against the chicken companies, by far the major employer in the town. He received a few death threats, which deterred him not at all. When state officials could not or did not control the problem, Brown finally filed a federal suit to clean up the processing plants. He not only won the suit but financial damages as well.

He remains a personal hero to many aging environmentalists, even if he has avoided the governor he covers for six years.

I also have to treat the old gentleman kindly, because his other career is serving as the harbormaster in Northport, where the Cobb Manor Yacht, Daybreak, is moored.