Florida's Dark Horse, New Deal Governor

A mild Gov. Doyle Canton, fearful lest the state’s business-tourist image be tarnished, wrote to President Herbert Hoover to reassure him that everything was just fine here, thank you, and the state needed no federal assistance, even though in the city of Tampa alone, one- third of its people were unemployed and food riots were a daily threat.

Sholtz well knew the odds as the eight- man primary opened that spring, but not many knew the Sholtz personality. He had an infectious self-confidence but, moreover, he had an instinctive rapport with individuals of diverse background and he conveyed a feeling of sincerity to those he addressed. His law partner recalled him simply as “a kindly person with a sincere interest in helping people.” It was at least a refreshing change from the winking, nudging, phony croneyism and pandering in the “good ole boy” tradition of the day.

As a public speaker, he seldom used notes and this emphasized the impression of sincerity and genuine concern for individual needs. The urbane Yankee could in such manner convince the most skeptical Cracker that he, too, was against the rampant bossism of the day. Sholtz was an active Episcopalian by faith and when an audience in the panhandle Bible Belt asked what it meant to be an Episcopalian, the reply came that this was midway between a Baptist and a Methodist. The answer apparently satisfied both. Sholtz had no funds for radio, newspaper or billboard advertising and often had to go door to door to get funds for mailing a few campaign letters. But he relied mainly on a flat-bed truck with two loud-speakers which he drove from town to town over the state under a tireless schedule. And then came election day.

Martin indeed led the first primary with 66,940 votes. But no one could explain or understand dark horse Dave’s second place win with 55,406, and Hardee trailing third — and out — at 50,427. The soothsayers went into apoplectic daze and a grim Goliath Martin took a more sober look at this menacing David. It would be a bitter run-off primary.

The ex-governor pulled no punches as his machine laid pressure on not only the losing candidates but every old-line boss in the state. But a desperate Martin went even further. Whatever demonic urge moved him, once he learned of Sholtz’s Jewish ancestry (which Sholtz never denied) he began to inject a subtle tone of anti-Semitism into the campaign until finally he was elevating the evil smear into a major issue. He even wrote to Germany to get sworn depositions attesting to Sholtz’s Jewishness. He would win — at any price.

Meanwhile, Sholtz completely ignored these attacks and refused to show any anger against Martin. Instead, he smiled, shook hands and listened to people. He talked of the depression crisis, jobs for the hungry, opening schools and keeping them open nine months, free textbooks, and a reduced tax millage for small homeowners. He was serious, intensely sincere, and people listened. They were tired of the shopworn, Coolidge-type slogans of the old politicians as the depression grew darker and heavier. And, again, Martin may have won the winking tacit approval of the party regulars with his rabid smears but he underestimated the solid sense of fair play of those very Cracker voters he sought to inflame. Election night once more stunned the political analysts: Sholtz, 173,540; Martin, 102,805, the largest majority ever given a candidate in Florida history. Sholtz easily swamped his Republican opponent, W. J. Howey, in November.

Sholtz could say truthfully, as he did at his inaugural, that he owed no political obligations anywhere and that in setting the state house in order it would surely arouse the anger of “selfish interests” and “political racketeers” and their “chicanery conniving and attacks.” But he would “hew to the line and let the chips fall.”

The 40-year-old upsetter was known as “the New Deal governor” for his strong support of F. D. R. and his poiicies. In fact, his closeness to Roosevelt redounded strongly to Florida’s benefit as programs and critically-needed federal aid began to pour into the state. Sholtz first pushed for an auto tag fee of $5 and diverted enough funds to pay teachers in cash instead of script. He beat the powerful publishers lobby to make good a promise of free textbooks. He instituted needed reforms in prison camps and set up the highway patrol. I-fe made jobs a priority and cut relief cases by 75% in three years and moved an inherited deficit of $2,124,000 to a surplus of $591,000 by 1934. Other enduring achievements made at his impetus were a park service and conservation commission, the state citrus commission, a workman’s compensation act, a mechanics’ lien law, a social welfare board, a state employment service, pensions for the aged and blind and numerous other long-range improvements.

When he had finished his constitutionally-restricted one term in 1936, Florida had become one of the fastest states in the country in moving toward economic recovery.

But it all might have been otherwise if an affable New York Jewish lawyer had not looked over the odds — and the needs — and said to himself: “Why not?”