As special assistant to Governor Rose Mofford, I always knew she was genuine, approachable and popular. But it took one particular incident for me to realize just how well-liked she was.
It was 1989, at an event at the Veterans Memorial Coliseum in Phoenix. As Rose entered the arena, recognizable by her white beehive hairdo and voluminous eyelashes, to take her seat, she was instantly greeted with a standing ovation. A few minutes later, Mother Teresa, in her familiar white and blue head covering, entered to a standing ovation, as well. Two very different women, both beloved.
I’ll never forget that day, or the countless other examples of average citizens lining up for autographs from this political “rock star.” Rose, who died in September at the age of 94, had the uncanny ability to remember everyone she met, even family pets. She kept her home phone number listed publicly, and invited everyone to call her—which countless constituents did even long after she retired. She never put politics before people—something sorely missing in America today. And it served her well during her 51 years in state government, where she worked with 12 of Arizona’s governors and occupied a historic role herself as the first woman to lead the state.
Rose often attributed her success to her personal three Rs—roots, religion and her Rolodex. She was born Rose Percia in the rural mining town of Globe, Arizona, in 1922, just 10 years after Arizona was granted statehood. Her parents were naturalized immigrants from Austria and raised her with Roman Catholic values, such as putting others first and helping the poor.
Rose’s political story starts in school, where she excelled in academics and sports, and “firsts” quickly became part of her legacy. She was the first girl to serve as class president at Globe High School, from which she graduated in 1940 as valedictorian. During high school, recruiters offered her a contract with the semi-pro basketball All-American Red Heads. She turned down the opportunity to take her first job in government as secretary to the state treasurer. Before leaving high school, though, she played first base for the Cantaloupe Queens, an amateur softball team, during their first ever cross-country championship tour in the summer of 1939. The team traveled across 33 states playing 20 exhibition games in various cities including in Chicago and New York, where they drew an estimated 18,000 spectators for each of their three games in Madison Square Garden. Rose was twice inducted into the Arizona Softball Hall of Fame.
“Sports taught me how to win and how to lose and how to play the game fairly,” Rose often said. She recognized there were personal rewards for individual athletes, but also learned the possibilities that sports could open up for communities and economic development.
The respect she gained for her love of sports helped Rose navigate another male-dominated world: politics. After 11 years in the state treasurer’s office, she held various other jobs in state government before becoming assistant secretary of state in 1955. In 1977, she shattered the glass ceiling as the first female secretary of state, and she was reelected three times in that role. Rose never aspired to become governor herself, but she ascended to the office in 1988, upon the impeachment of Evan Mecham for misuse of government funds and obstruction of justice.
In her inaugural address to the state Legislature in 1988, she acknowledged having the “courage of a pioneer woman, compassion of Gandhi, wisdom of Solomon and energy of Magic Johnson.” A Democrat, Rose was able to draw on her vast reservoir of goodwill from conservative Republicans to liberal Democrats during her almost three years as governor, and in so doing, she brought stability to the state.
Her sense of fairness, compassion and openness to diversity helped her champion some of the most divisive and controversial issues of her day. She re-established the Martin Luther King Jr. Holiday, which Mecham had rescinded. She created a task force for a comprehensive statewide response to the growing HIV epidemic at a time when AIDS awareness was just beginning. As a defender of American liberties, she voiced a strong opposition to mandated English-only language instruction in Arizona schools. And she appointed more women and ethnic minorities to boards, commissions and courts than any other previous governor.
Rose is also credited with creating Arizona’s thriving sports industry. As governor, she formed a high-level task force to save Major League Baseball’s spring training Cactus League, which was in danger of losing teams to Florida. She turned to a friend at Major League Baseball, Joe Garagiola Jr., to help spearhead the initiative, including successful legislation with a commitment of new resources. Since the 1990s, the Cactus League has grown to 15 teams and also paved the way for Arizona to acquire the Diamondbacks. In 1988, the Arizona Cardinals football team came to the state thanks, as well, to Rose.
Rose always took the job seriously, but never herself. Her iconic image inspired many caricatures, adorning stationary and watches. But Rose embraced the caricatures with a sense of humor. She commissioned likenesses of herself for holiday cards and annually sent them to more than 4,000 friends, family and colleagues—over a span of 30 years. One year, her card depicted Rose as “Winged Victory,” whose figure sits atop Arizona’s state Capitol building. When conservative lawmakers criticized Rose for showing too much leg underneath the drawing’s toga, she printed another 7,000 cards to meet the increased demand.
In 1991, Rose retired from government and the governorship, but not from public life. She remained active in politics, giving her support and advice to many candidates and officeholders. She served on boards and committees, including Mercy Care Foundation, the Ryle Fund and the Crime Prevention League, and she provided philanthropic support to many nonprofits. She remained an avid and lifelong fan of Arizona sports teams and youth sports.
Rose’s genuine concern for everyone, especially children, the elderly and the disadvantaged made her an Arizona icon and a lasting treasure. She had a favorite booth at a Phoenix restaurant, Sierra Bonita Grill, where friends from her days in government and other patrons would stop by and chat; some would request an autograph. Today, fittingly, there’s a plaque on that booth, dedicating it to Rose.
