× Expand Photo by Ralph D'Oench, courtesy of the Missouri History Museum Old St. Louis County Courthouse The old St. Louis County courthouse, on the northwest corner of Central and Forsyth

The St. Louis County Executive is easily the most powerful elected official in the region—and perhaps in the state, if you set aside the governor. Nine men have held the office of St. Louis County Executive since 1951, when home rule was adopted and the modern era of St. Louis County government began. Four of those nine men have been Republicans, and five have been Democrats. Today, the office wields more power than ever before: The county’s population hovers around one million people, and the executive directly represents the hundreds of thousands of county residents who live outside of incorporated cities and towns.

The path to 1951, when Luman Matthews became the first “Supervisor”—as the County Executive was then known—wends a long and circuitous way, starting in the late 19th century. The Great Divorce has been well documented, but just to quickly review: Missouri pioneered the concept of home rule in 1875, and the City of St. Louis took advantage of the new form of self-government almost immediately, separating from St. Louis County in 1877. Even lawyers and legal scholars have trouble defining “home rule,” but at its most basic, it allows a city such as St. Louis to make decisions for itself that, traditionally, the State of Missouri would make on the municipality’s behalf. Obviously, federal and state law still trump home rule, but if there is no conflict, the laws of the City stand.

Home rule left St. Louis County out in the cold, with a population of approximately 30,000 at the time and no county seat. The city had the Old Courthouse within its boundaries. The county had no locus of power. Various preexisting cities were discussed as county seats, including Kirkwood, Maplewood and Des Peres, but due to the donation of a farmer’s land, Clayton became the obvious choice for a new, centrally located county seat.

Originally, the county court judge, known as the Presiding Justice, administered St. Louis County. The Republican Party dominated that particular office all the way to its end in 1951. Even then, it was Luman Matthews, a Republican who’d been the Presiding Judge from 1943 to 1950, who was elected to the new office of Supervisor.

Spurred by rapid growth, even before World War II and through the rest of the 1940s, the residents of St. Louis County voted for a new county charter that took effect on January 1, 1951. The concerns: a lack of centralized control, parks, police department, fire protection, sewer system and a consistent revenue stream to pay for all these new amenities. The new charter provided the County the most important new power: taxation, which home rule allowed without state permission. A new, seven-member council was also created at this time. The new County government established a professional civil service system that stood apart from traditional political machine hiring. But nothing was done to prevent the fragmentation that now plagues us. What is deeply depressing, as I read a 1950 Post-Dispatch article about the new County charter, is the report that small hamlets—including a town I had never, ever heard of, Margona—had absolutely no ability to generate enough economy of scale to remain fiscally solvent. The new charter did nothing to deal with those small, inefficient redundancies.

Nonetheless, there were glints of strong leadership. For example, it’s interesting to read old newspaper clippings about Luman Matthews, even while he was still serving in the old position of Presiding Judge. As is often the case, when someone is the first person to take a new position, his or her actions set the tone for their successors. One incident stands out to me: It concerns the proposed extension of Delmar Boulevard (the end of this story is, of course, already known to anyone remotely familiar with area roads). Three possible orientations were proposed for extending Delmar past North Price Road, with either Ladue or Olivette being on the receiving end of the additional traffic. A caravan of angry residents from Olivette proceeded out to Matthews’ home in Overland, filling his front lawn, and one of them knocked on his door. Matthews met with the group, patiently explained his position and the procedures involved, and everyone left, perhaps not satisfied but at least feeling that their leader had listened.

When Matthews died in 1977, he could boast a series of accomplishments begun during or perhaps because of his tenure in office. The Metropolitan Sewer District was created in 1954, and the St. Louis County Police Department, a replacement for the sheriff’s department, began in 1955. The County park and library systems are, to this day, the envy of other metropolitan areas. Perhaps Matthews had the benefit of a booming population and economy; between the 1950 and 1960 census, the number of residents in St. Louis County jumped from 406,349 to 703,532. But I do know this about growing up in St. Louis County in the 1980s and ’90s: Matthews’s successors, regardless of their political affiliation, were known for their calm, steady hand, just like the first man to hold the office.

In recent years, that’s changed for the worse. Now, with the election of Dr. Sam Page, we’ll see if the office of County Executive returns to that same levelheadedness and public trust.