As rioting broke out in Baltimore last April, Maryland governor Larry Hogan got a call from Chris Christie, his friend, political ally, and governor of New Jersey. How you handle the crisis, Christie told Hogan, “is going to be the defining moment for you" as governor.
The situation was dicey and Hogan's task—preventing the riot from spreading—was delicate. He was a Republican official in a Democratic state, a white politician dealing with a predominantly black city, a governor ready to send in the National Guard who had to negotiate with a black mayor, Stephanie Rawlings-Blake. She appeared more fearful of an overreaction than of the riot itself.
Two days before lawlessness broke out, Hogan had sensed the city might explode over the death of a black man, Freddie Gray, in police custody. He opened an emergency operations center and put the National Guard on high alert. He drafted two executive orders, one deploying the soldiers at the mayor's request, the other on his authority alone. The mayor's role wasn't required by statute, but politics made it advantageous.
Hogan, 59, was ready to act once violence erupted. Police were being ambushed, buildings torched. "The city was in complete anarchy," he says. Yet Hogan couldn't reach the mayor for two-and-a-half hours. Neither could his aide, assigned to keep the two of them in constant communication.
When Hogan finally got through to her, Rawlings-Blake said she needed 15 minutes to talk to the police commissioner. With several minutes to spare, she got back in touch. She was reluctant for the National Guard to come into the city.