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Right now I cant remember what I was looking for, but when I reached into an old briefcase a few weeks ago I pulled out a wad of rubber surgical gloves [--] the kind that make grown men cringe.

They made me think of Dick Pettys.

Monday night, when I heard Dick Pettys had died, I thought about those rubber gloves. They're part of an old story that is part of state capitol lore and one I often told when I was promoting my 1997 biography of Zell Miller.

Long ago, when Democrats roamed the halls of the Gold Dome, Miller was the governor of Georgia. The old Marine had a peculiar relationship with the press corps -- a group led by Pettys, the chief of The Associated Press Capitol Bureau.

Reporters constantly got in Miller's way, which didn't set well with a control freak who always figured he could do their jobs better than they could.

Miller didn't even appreciate longtime reporter Bill Shipp's concern about his health. Writing in his monthly political newsletter, Shipp reported that the governor was secretly suffering from prostate trouble, a scoop that compelled others to write a follow-up.

Pettys served news outlets all over the state so he had to call the governor's office. He got the perfunctory comment from Miller's press secretary and put a story on the wire that denied the governor was ill.

That could have been the end of it, but Miller, as usual, wanted the last word. Weeks later, as his driver wheeled into his reserved parking place outside the capitol, Miller spied Pettys crossing the street.

"Hear you've been asking about my health?" Miller said.

While they talked, the governor fumbled around in his coat pocket and then asked Pettys to hold out his hand. In that outstretched hand, Miller put one of those thin rubber gloves.

See the rest here:
Richard Hyatt: Dick Pettys still gets the last word