When a majority of Indianapolis residents chose to change local government and put new faces in city hall and on the City-County Council, their decision marked the end of an era.
Rozelle Boyd, an at-large member of the council who had served 42 years, was among several local Democrats, including outgoing Mayor Bart Peterson, who were swept out of office in what many have described as the greatest political upset in the city’s history.
Boyd, along with fellow at-large members Lonnell “King Ro” Conley and Ron Gibson, lost his bid for reelection, taking with him decades of irreplaceable experience.
However Boyd, who was recognized by colleagues in both parties as “the dean” of the council because of his seniority, has responded to the loss as he has done with every setback during his career: With grace and dignity.
“Historically I’ve been an optimist even during times when optimism did not seem to be what the situation called for,” Boyd said while preparing Christmas gifts for relatives this week. “I have found that generally a positive attitude will profit you significantly more and solve significantly more problems than being negative. If crying would help me I would spend more time crying, but that doesn’t solve anything.”
Boyd’s final term as a council member officially ends Jan. 1. He attended his final session on the council last Monday and sponsored a bill that encourages the incoming Republican leaders of the council to overturn an increase in the county income tax that was originally approved by the council in August.
Boyd, who had the longest tenure of any Black elected officially in the city, said he is currently reviewing several community projects and initiatives that he now has time to complete.
“I absolutely intend to remain active civically and politically but immediately I do not intend to make a commitment to one particular project,” he said.
An Indianapolis native who graduated from the historic Crispus Attucks High School and Butler University, Boyd originally had no interest in politics while working as a history teacher at his alma mater, Crispus Attucks (he later went on to become an educator at Indiana Unviersity).
In 1965 however, he was approached by civic leader Frank Lloyd and then Marion County Democratic Chairman Jim Beatty, who encouraged him to run for the County Council (which is what the council was called before city and county governments were merged under Unigov legislation in 1970).
After exploring what the position entailed Boyd agreed to run and was easily re-elected several times. During most of his time on the council Boyd served in the minority, as Republicans held the majority for over 30 years.
He patiently led his party as minority leader until Democrats finally regained the majority in 2003 and elected him council president. His tenure as president was brief however, because he lost the position to Steve Talley a year later following a bipartisan coup.
Boyd said he would like to be remembered as a stabilizer on the council who “brought civility” to government, brought more people to the local governing process and closely followed constitutional rules to ensure that the rights of minority interest groups were protected on the council.
He encourages more youth and senior citizens to become active in the local political process by voting, being involved in community organizations and perhaps running for office.
“Seniors and young citizens should take a look at what their future can be in Indianapolis politics,” said Boyd. “I think that a great deal of decisions should come from that level and I absolutely encourage both groups to get more involved.”
Cornell Burris, president of the Greater Indianapolis Branch of the NAACP described Boyd’s departure from the council as a loss to the community.
“Politics and apathy got him removed and now we’re paying the price,” Burris said. “He was very dedicated and knew how to get the job done.”
Beurt SerVaas, a Republican who served as council president from 1969 to 1999, called Boyd “a good friend” who is a joy to be around.
“I consider him a prince of a man,” SerVaas said. “They don’t make ‘em like Rozelle Boyd very much anymore.”
