Rose Mofford, first woman Ariz. governor, dies

PHOENIX — Rose Mofford, the scrappy softball player from rural Globe who would make history by becoming Arizona's first woman secretary of state and governor, has died. She was 94.

Mofford, who lived 55 years in the same home and kept her phone number public, died Thursday morning at Gardiner Home, a hospice in Phoenix.

Karen Scates, a close friend and longtime political associate, said Mofford had been moved to the hospice as a precaution after an Aug. 31 fall at her own home.

“She was moved to Gardiner House to have a little more care and attention, and was doing fine and was recovering,” Scates said.

Tributes to former Gov. Rose Mofford flow in on social media

According to Scates, “She was in good spirits yesterday. She went peacefully — that is all we can hope for.” She added that Mofford, just the day before, had read the newspaper and snacked on lemon cakes and a vanilla milkshake.

Mofford, of course, was anything but vanilla.

As secretary of state, she took over the top office in 1988 after Gov. Evan Mecham was impeached for obstruction of justice and misuse of funds.

Rose Mofford, a Democrat, made history as Arizona’s first female governor, but her hairdo was equally legendary.

Well into old age, she continued to wear her trademark swirl of white hair piled high in a French roll that made her an easy caricature for political cartoonists, bobblehead makers and her own Christmas cards, and instantly recognizable as an Arizona icon.

She was the embodiment of old Arizona, where Republicans and Democrats could be civil and work together. She ran a tight, efficient office and is credited with bringing stability to the state at a rough time with grace and wit.

Phone calls and friendship: My time with Gov. Rose Mofford

"When the state desperately needed healing, she stepped in," recalled Athia Hardt, who served as Mofford's press aide when she was suddenly catapulted to the Governor's Office following Mecham's impeachment. She called herself "Mother Mofford," and fulfilled that role both as a stern parent, when needed, and as a caring individual, Hardt said.

The White House released a statement Thursday night in which President Obama called Mofford's life "a story of tireless service, steady leadership, and a trailblazing spirit that inspired not only a state where three more women would eventually follow her in office, but an entire country."

Mofford retired in 1991 after 51 years in state government, but never lost interest in state affairs. "As recently as a few months ago, she was still calling on my cellphone every so often when she saw something in the newspaper she didn't like or about something political," Hardt said.

Mofford started in state government as a secretary, beginning right out of high school, and then tirelessly did charity work.

She lived in the same house near Central and Maryland avenues in Phoenix for 50 years, even through three years as governor when her security detail thought she would be better off somewhere else.

It was her neighborhood, she insisted. Her Arizona. Her people. Her home number was listed, and always had been. She lived by simple rules.

“Let your word be your bond,” Mofford said often. “If you say you are going to do something, do it, and don’t make excuses.

“Be a good listener. Learn to listen and to listen to people’s suggestions. Learn from the people around you.

“And treat everyone with dignity.”

Mofford once attributed her success to her “roots, religion and Rolodex.” The Rolodex was a real one, with little paper cards she flipped through to find phone numbers and addresses, not a spreadsheet on her computer.

She started building up that Rolodex with her first job in state government in 1940, eventually collecting 4,000 names and addresses in four green metal Rolodexes. By 2011, she was down to just two Rolodexes and about 2,000 cards.

“People are dying, and I'm getting older, and things are changing,” she said then. “Honey, you would be surprised by how many friends I've lost.”

And it was people Mofford most cherished: “Arizona may have its unparalleled sunsets, magnificent canyons and heart-stopping mountains, but it's the people who bring the state alive.”

Mofford's journey 

Mofford was an Arizona native. She was born and grew up in the small mining town of Globe, the youngest of six children — four girls and two boys. Her parents, John and Frances Perica, were naturalized immigrants from Austria. They taught their children to help others.

“It was a wonderful place to grow up. It was about population 12,000, and you knew everybody, and the teachers, the principal and everybody knew you, so if you got in trouble, your parents knew it before you got home,” Mofford said in an interview in 2011.

“You never locked your car. You never locked your house. People were always welcome. Christmas was always big. And if someone died, people would make cakes or fried chicken, and you would be there for them.”

At Globe High, she won a national typing contest and was the first girl to serve as class president. At 17, she was picked to play first base for the Arizona Cantaloupe Queens in an exhibition game at New York's Madison Square Garden.

She heeded her father’s advice not to accept an offer to join a professional softball team and graduated as valedictorian in 1940.

Mofford then went to work as secretary to state Treasurer Joe Hunt, her first in a series of state jobs that would span five decades. She was just 18. Her salary was $125 a month.

Two years later, Hunt became a member of the state Tax Commission — the precursor to today’s Department of Revenue — and Mofford went with him.

She was promoted to executive secretary for the entire commission in 1947, but six years later, she encountered the wrath of the overt male chauvinism of the 1950s. She was removed, as commission member Thad Moore explained, because the commission "felt it was better to have a man in that particular job."

Mofford chuckled when asked about that anecdote at age 89. She quipped, “He likely would have felt it was better to have a man in the particular job of governor, too.”

Mofford landed on her feet. She was the business manager of Arizona Highways magazine for two years and then served as assistant secretary of state under Wesley Bolin.

"Let's face it," the late Gov. Sam Goddard once said of that period, "she ran the place."

When Gov. Raul Castro resigned in 1977 to become ambassador to Argentina, he was succeeded by Bolin, who in turn appointed Mofford to serve the remainder of his term.

Bolin died of a heart attack less than six months later, but because Mofford had been appointed, not elected, the office went to then-Attorney General Bruce Babbitt.

Mofford ran for secretary of state in 1978, 1982 and 1986 and won each time by large margins. When Mecham was removed from office in April 1988, Mofford became governor.

Mofford ran an efficient office. She was noted for being punctual, answering her own phone and replying directly to her mail.

As she had been when she was secretary of state, Mofford was accessible almost to a fault. She regularly handed out watches with her caricature on the dial to people she met. Each year, she sent out thousands of Christmas cards with a caricature of herself on the cover.

While her platinum hairdo was her trademark, she also was well-known for her quick one-liners and sense of humor. She could dish it out and take it.

In 1989 when Esquire magazine named her one of the "50 Women We Love," Mofford, observing that she was in the company of the likes of Geena Davis and Madonna, quipped, "You know, I think I weighed more when I was born than some of these women today."

The Democratic governor faced the challenges of a hefty state deficit, the collapse of the real-estate market and voters’ rejection of a referendum to create a paid Martin Luther King Jr. holiday, which took Arizona out of contention to host the 1993 Super Bowl.

Mofford pressed for higher bonding limits for rural highways and helped promote statewide economic development. She also helped develop a funding mechanism to keep Major League Baseball's Cactus League in Arizona. A member of the Arizona Softball Hall of Fame, Mofford has municipal fields named after her.

She was most proud of her efforts on behalf of education, the elderly, people with disabilities and children.

Mofford's popularity was high, but it waned in late 1989 amid questions about her commutation of two killers' sentences.

In early 1990, she announced she would not run for re-election at the end of her term. Mofford was more comfortable with administrative tasks than partisan politics.

At a press conference back then, Mofford said she wanted to get out from under the intense public pressure so she could visit lifelong friends around the state.

“I’ve served Arizona long and hard, and I think I’ve done an outstanding job for 50 years,” a misty-eyed Mofford said then. “I feel this one I have to call for Rosie.”

Later she would say that she served as governor out of a sense of duty – her state needed her. Supporters and detractors agreed that she handled her time in office with grace and wit.

"What she did was reinvest the system with dignity and honor,” former state Senate Democratic leader Alfredo Gutierrez said when Mofford left office in 1991.

Her busy retirement

In her retirement, Mofford continued to help the people of the state she loved.

She had a particular soft spot for children, though she never had any of her own. She married T.R. "Lefty" Mofford, a captain with the Phoenix Police Department, in 1957, and they divorced after a decade.

But Mofford often told people to call her “Mother Mofford.” She considered herself the mother of every Arizonan, she said.

Even after Mofford retired, a few times every month a child would call her at home for help with a report for school.

“Go ahead and ask,” Mofford would tell any caller. “I'm listening.”

She started a scholarship in her name at Globe High. She promoted sports. And she also worked with former state lawmaker Leo Corbet, a heart-transplant recipient, to help people with state health insurance get organ transplants.

“Don’t take your organs to heaven!” she would tell people. “We need them here!”

Up until she turned 91, Mofford collected, washed, sorted and donated clothes and delivered them to shelters. She regularly visited care homes for the elderly.

“If we all took one person, we would never have poverty. I don't mean with money but with love, care and attention and listening to what they have to say,” Mofford said.

She liked the satisfaction of knowing that she could help at least one person: “If I help more than one, I have a star in my crown and I'm going to heaven sure as hell.”

Mofford will be cremated, followed by a private burial service. A celebration of life at St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church in Phoenix will be announced later, friends said.

Contributing: Mary Jo Pitzl, The Arizona Republic. Follow Karina Bland and Craig Harris​ on Twitter: @KarinaBland and @charrisazrep