"Some of the People Who Ate My Barbecue Didn't Vote for Me": The Life of Georgia Governor Marvin Griffin

Abstract

Scott E. Buchanan's short, readable biography of one-term Georgia governor Marvin Griffin argues that the colorful native of Bainbridge was an important figure—and therefore a subject worthy for a book—for two reasons. Griffin, Buchanan argues, was more than just another southern segregationist; he was a man of “charm, wit, and abilities” and his administration recorded “considerable achievements” (p. 250). And, Buchanan suggests, Griffin was a seminal figure in the changing of the Georgia political guard: after the governor left electoral politics in 1962, the state's elected leaders were more likely to be Republican, less likely to be overtly racist, and more likely to be urban or at least tied to urban interests. Of these two contentions, Buchanan is more successful in identifying Griffin as a transition point than he is making a case that the governor stood apart from Georgia, let alone southern, governors of the era. To be sure, Griffin—lieutenant governor from 1948 to 1955 and governor from 1955 to 1959—could tell a story, captivate rural Georgians from the hustings, make effective political alliances, and find ways to reward supporters through patronage or access. These skills, though practiced with great flair by Griffin, were stock-in-trade for southern governors in the period directly before and after World War II. Virulently segregationist in and out of office, Griffin defended white supremacy wholeheartedly on the stump and in front of Citizens Council gatherings. The Griffin administration, like those of plenty other southern governors, was replete with corruption and scandal, a factor that damaged Griffin's attempt at a second term as governor in 1962. The Griffin administration did boost teacher salaries and education spending, and managed to build plenty of roads and attract industrial development to the state. But in the economic climate of the first two decades after World War II, nearly all southern governors could point to similar achievements, had similar views on race and the traditional propensity to “fire the Hell out of … enemies and take care of … friends” (p. 4).