It was a routine call for the Beacon Ambulance Service of Fort Lauderdale. No sirens, no red lights, just an old man dead on arrival at the Florida hos pital. The autopsy revealed "peritonitis, secondary to acute gangrenous appendicitis, ruptured." Only an uncommonly tough character could have endured such pain so long and without any relief through drugs or antibiotics. Indeed, the manner of Joe Martin's departure from life was entirely consistent with the way in which he had always conducted it. The former Republican Speaker of the House, dead last week at the age of 83, had never had much use for palliatives.
No Little Loyalty. Joseph William Martin Jr. was born in North Attleboro, Mass., in an era of horse trolleys and self-made men. Son of a Scots blacksmith and an Irish lass, he peddled papers, passed up Dartmouth in favor of reporting local news, and later bought the paper. Politics came naturally in that era, and Joe Martin was a natural. Stubby and combative, as quick with an infectious grin as with a roundhouse right, little Joe's big break came in 1925, when he entered the U.S. House of Representatives after the man who had beaten him in the primary died before the general election.
Martin took his place, won, and for 42 years—in an era of compromise—tried to make America a macrocosmic manifestation of Attleboro. In 1946, in the offices of his own newspaper, he learned that the Republican Party had regained the majority in Congress; thus Joe Martin was propelled into the speakership of the House for the first time in his faithful career. No legislation bears his name, and his tenure as Speaker was a scant four years (1947-48, 1953-54); yet he was the Republican
Party's spokesman in the House for 20 years and presided with smooth skill over five G.O.P. presidential nominating conventions. Though he fought fierce rearguard actions against Franklin Roosevelt's New Deal, he later supported foreign aid in the days when it was anathema to many Republicans; his conservatism was easily accommodated in support of more liberal Dwight Eisenhower. Indeed, party loyalty always meant more to Joe Martin than programmatic polemics.
Manifold Malapropisms. As Republican minority leader in a period of Democratic ascendancy, Martin kept the faith—pliantly. His malapropisms were manifold and celebrated: guided missiles became "gilded muscles"; Republican programs had "headlights" instead of highlights; his friendly archrival became "the gentleman from Rayburn, Mr. Texas." Joe Martin and Democratic Speaker Sam Rayburn were synonymous with the House for two generations of Americans. Once, when Rayburn was asked to campaign against Martin in Massachusetts, the Texan responded brusquely: "Speak against Joe? Hell, if I lived up there, I'd vote for him."