Little noticed record of N.Y. governor-to-be now facing scrutiny

To most of New York State, Lieutenant Governor David Paterson is a virtual unknown, having received little attention. (Photo by Daniel Barry/Getty Images)

NEW YORK - Tomorrow, through a twist that few could have foreseen, Lieutenant Governor David A. Paterson will be sworn in as the 55th governor of New York after the sudden downfall of his former running mate, Eliot Spitzer.

His rise from relative obscurity to center stage has come with astonishing speed, and with it, Paterson is about to face something new: serious scrutiny of his legislative record, political connections, and handling of government money over two decades.

A review of Paterson's time in office reveals many of the typical footprints of a long legislative career. But it also shows that at times he supported controversial policies, made candid comments, and took actions that might have raised questions about conflicts of interest. By and large, his record escaped notice.

As state senator, Paterson helped direct hundreds of thousands of dollars to a hospital in his Harlem district that for a time employed his wife, including for two years as its paid lobbyist in Albany.

He sponsored legislation that would have made it legal for noncitizens to vote in state and local elections and another bill that would have made it legal to use force against a police officer while resisting a wrongful arrest - a proposal that was blasted by police unions and went nowhere. And his father, Basil A. Paterson, is a top lawyer for some of the state's most powerful unions, whose money has long influenced policymaking in Albany.

Within the confines of the Harlem district that he represented for 23 years, Paterson is a well-known commodity, a scion of a legendary club that included his father, who is a former New York secretary of state, deputy mayor, and state senator; David N. Dinkins, New York City's first black mayor; Representative Charles B. Rangel; and Percy E. Sutton, a former Manhattan borough president - although he sometimes bucked their wishes.

But to the rest of the state, he is a virtual unknown, having received little attention and even less scrutiny. For most of his two decades in office, Paterson was a member, and then leader, of one of the least relevant, and least noticed, groups in the Legislature, the Democratic minority of the state Senate.

He received only marginally more attention in 2006 when he was elected to another post with little real influence: lieutenant governor. (Consider that when his predecessor was in office, a statewide poll said only 4 percent of New Yorkers could name their lieutenant governor. Stumped? It was Mary O. Donohue.)

"He is a governor who has only been, quote unquote, vetted, by the constituents in his state Senate district in Manhattan," said Douglas A. Muzzio, political scientist at Baruch College. "He has never gotten the statewide scrutiny that a gubernatorial candidate would expect."

In a statement, Paterson's office said his legislative record was "thoroughly reviewed when he was chosen to join the ticket with Attorney General Spitzer."

Paterson, 53, was first elected in 1985, at the age of 31, to the Senate seat in Harlem that his father once held. He gained a reputation as a smart, engaging, funny, consensus-driven leader who pushed for reform in a state government that had become famous for dysfunction.

In 2002, he mounted a successful coup against the Senate minority leader - and then helped Democrats to win seats.

As minority leader, Paterson did not hesitate to attack the leadership of the majorities in both chambers on the issue of accountability, accusing them of trying to hide details of how they used hundreds of millions of dollars in "member items," the discretionary spending doled out by legislators.

Paterson is also known for a disarming frankness. At a news conference in 2005, he volunteered that he had once underreported his income to the Internal Revenue Service. Paterson filed an amended return and paid the tax owed, amounting to a few hundred dollars, an aide said.