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Editorial Boost. In 1931 the political itch struck Lausche again. That year, in a party split, two Democrats, Ray T. Miller and Peter Witt, ran for mayor of Cleveland in the city's "nonpartisan" campaign. Lausche, breaking with his ward leader, came to the aid of Miller's campaign. Miller won, and a year later Lausche was rewarded with an appointment as municipal judge. The next year he was elected in his own right. In 1936 he was elected to the higher Common Pleas Court. He was on his way.
As a judge, Lausche cracked down hard on organized crime, drove the loan-shark racketeers out of Cleveland, and, with handwritten orders secretly delivered to a friend on the police force, dramatically closed down two of the city's most notorious gambling sinks. Early in his career, Lausche attracted the attention of Louis Seltzer, the breezy, brilliant editor of the Cleveland Press. Seltzer soon decided that the young judge was the freshest, most forceful new face to turn up in Cleveland politics in a long time. In the columns of the Press, Crimebuster Lausche began to get helpful publicity, and Seltzer repeatedly urged him (in front-page editorials) to run for mayor. Lausche resisted Seltzer's blandishments for six years until at last, in 1941, he was ready.
He announced his candidacy at the traditional Democratic steer roast, ran on an orthodox, straight party ticket, with the warm support of Boss Miller and the organization. Soon after he swept into office, however, he had a falling-out with Miller. Miller had promised the leaders of organized labor that Lausche would fire Eliot Ness, the Republican director of public safety. Lausche, he charged, had privately promised the dismissal. The mayor denied the charge, kept Ness on his job because his record had been good. Ray Miller, Lausche's old mentor and friend, became his bitterest enemy.
From that time on, Frank Lausche walked alone. The wrath of the organization Democrats and of labor rained on his shoulders. Despite his new enemies, he was re-elected by an avalanche of votes in 1943, continued his crusade against gambling, and provided Cleveland with clean government and inspirational leadership in World War II. By 1944 he had broadened his political horizons to run for the governorship. His friends advised him not to try: Ohio, they told him, would never elect a Catholic as governor. But Lausche disregarded the advice, as usual, and despite a vicious whispering campaign, he won, as usual—in a year when Franklin Roosevelt lost Ohio by 11,500 votes.