Boy, You Want To Run For The Assembly?

David Dinkins remembers all his opponents.

- Chris Smith

WAY BACK, like 1939, my father-in-law, Daniel L. Burrows, had been in the State Assembly. He knew all the people, politically, and he wanted to see that his son-in-law got a break. And it was he who first introduced me to Ray Jones.

Ray’s nickname was “the Fox,” and that was appropriate, because he was tough, very smart, and smooth. He was our local district leader, and he became the first black leader of Tammany Hall. The political clubs, that was the method of networking in that day. A lot of lawyers were members, and they’d come once or twice a week and help people with their legal problems for free. Ray would also help people get jobs. One of his favorite sayings was “Nobody does anything for nothing.” So the community could be counted on to vote consistently Democratic.

One night, Ray came out of his office with a big cigar and said, “Boy, you want to run for the Assembly?” I said, “I don’t know—I guess.” There had been a federal lawsuit, and the result had been an expansion of the number of seats, creating a space for which I could run. So I won. Now I’m hopelessly hooked on public service. This is what I want to do.