LeRoy Jones, The Last Democratic Party Action Star

Leroy Jones of Essex County tonight emerged as the only boss in New Jersey politics who could double as a 1980’s action star.
It sounds like a minor detail, but it’s not – not really, not when you think of how many males feel alienated by the Democratic Party. Young men – including a longtime caddy for Donald Trump at the President’s golf course – at a local gin mill less than a week before Election Day - confessed to feeling left behind by Democrats.
They planned to vote for Jack Ciattarelli, of course, and would binge watch – for the 100th time - the Sylvester Stallone cult classic Cobra sooner than find something nice to say about Mikie Sherrill and Dems.
“They abandoned me,” said one of them, who confessed to being a liberal in 2007.
They might feel different if they interacted with Jones, who projects Carl Weathers attributes under pressure and genuine leadership qualities, certainly more along the lines of Apollo in Rocky III than Dylan in Predator, but probably mostly like Action Jackson (more on that in a minute). There is a significant difference between Jones and Creed, and that’s Jones’ hardnosed dedication to his candidates while seeming to nurse zero personal comeback ambitions.
The Democratic State Party Chairman from East Orange's obvious contrast to Trump contains a key to Jones’ effectiveness. In chaos – and no word could better characterize what Trump creates in American politics - Jones throughout the cycle projected spiritual serenity. Maybe that’s an act with reporters around, and when the doors close, he raises panic-stricken hell. Maybe. But unlikely. You can’t manufacture class on the fly, any more than you can cloak a crook by making him President.
Here’s another Jones gift:
Picking good people to do critical jobs, standing by them, and nudging them forward so they receive just due as they develop their skills.
And here’s one more:
More than our culture’s anarchist tendencies made the 2024 demise of the party lines wrought by Andy Kim’s lawsuit a significant victory. There’s a noble element to it, certainly. But watching Jones this year, one also sees the beneficial aspects of strong party organization, in this case, defined by those leaders of Essex County, and finally under the protective wings of the state party chairman. Ideal? No. But – in our strangely solipsistic and alienating time, reflective of people working together and complementing one another’s strengths. A structure that produces Jones deserves study – and emulation of the better parts - as we attempt to make sense of – and save – our democratic republic, and in New Jersey, attempt to keep the best of party organizations while deepening our individual responsibility to functioning democracy.
While Republicans (Bill Spadea, Jack Ciattarelli, and Jon Bramnick) came out of the GOP Primary unable to reconcile, Jones took deliberate, ego-defeating steps to bring his party together. He focused mostly on ensuring the unity of Essex County. Ras Baraka and his followers would never aspire to fly into combat in Sea King helicopters behind Mikie Sherrill. But Jones refused to pretend to Napoleonic grandeur and put his party – and the nominee – first.
Whatever his future with Democrats going forward, Jones amassed a fine list of accomplishments as party chairman, just like the chairman before him, John Currie of Passaic County. Jones stood up to South Jersey when it counted, refusing to abide by the ridiculous dynamic of Essex taking orders from a deep red corner of the state. Like Virgil in Purgatory, he finally successfully guided his statewide candidate through the painful brambles of an anti-machine run by the progressive mayor of the biggest city in Jones’ home county of Essex. Purists might say he never should have let it get that far. But those same purists also think the best way for Johnny Friendly to have handled Charlie in On the Waterfront was to hang him on a longshoreman’s hook. Jones performed delicate politics, tough when it mattered, inflexible when it counted, and with a smile – and even kindness - most of the time.
“Civilized” might be a good word for it, in the end.
Finally, as a party leader, Jones – a consummate uniter - stood for prized American principles at a critical time: civil rights, an expanded social safety net, and the priorities of labor and working people. That he accomplished all of this with the lovely Jacqueline by his side, while channeling the fit, elegant, and tough title character of Action Jackson from the 1989 cult classic, who short-circuits the evil political intentions of a billionaire jerk, should give young and lost guys like those watering hole denizens at least one reason to take a second look at the New Jersey party led by a guy from East Orange named LeRoy Jones.

