A Tingley sensation: This powerful, and sometimes foul-mouthed, outspoken politician left his mark, and name, across the city

One cannot write about the contemporary history of New Mexico or Albuquerque without a nod to Clyde Tingley – a powerful, and sometimes foul-mouthed, outspoken politician who helped usher the city through The Great Depression and into modern times.

Several places within the city bear his name including a fishing pond, a park, a coliseum, and most recently, a rebranded hotel in Downtown Albuquerque.

Tingley was elected as an alderman on the Albuquerque City Council from 1916 to 1917 and then won a spot on the council, which had become the city commission, from 1922 to 1935. While on the commission, he served as chairman for 10 years, which was the equivalent of the mayor at that time. Tingley set into motion an aggressive plan to modernize the city once he became mayor, paving streets, adding streetlights and annexing land.

He became governor in 1935, but after leaving the governor’s mansion, he returned to his role as a city servant, spending 1940 to 1953 as chairman of the Albuquerque City Commission.

A 1995 New Mexico PBS special shed light on his personality. He was described as a dynamic character with boundless energy who was known for his rough and tumble approach to the English language. He used fractured grammar, was fond of the word “ain’t” and could not have cared less what people thought about that.

“Although constantly in demand as a public speaker, Mr. Tingley was addicted to ungrammatical phrases,” his December 1960 obituary in the Springfield, Ohio, newspaper read. “It is said he stumped his way to office on the sole issue of the word ‘ain’t’ … Questioned about this, he told a reporter: ‘I always said “ain’t” and I ain’t going to quit saying it now.’ ”

Tingley was born in London, Ohio, on Jan. 5, 1882, slightly more than two decades after America began a war with itself. He would make his way to New Mexico in 1911 but it wasn’t politics that lured him. It was the climate.

A Tingley sensation: This powerful, and sometimes foul-mouthed, outspoken politician left his mark, and name, across the city

Doctor’s diagnosed his then fiancee, Carrie Wooster, with tuberculosis. She traveled to the Southwest with her mother in 1911 with the intention of settling in Arizona but was forced to exit the train in Albuquerque after she became too ill to travel further, according to the New Mexico Historic Women project and Tingley’s obituary. Wooster hailed from a wealthy and prominent Ohio family, Clyde followed and the two became husband and wife on April 24, 1911, according to a blurb in the April 25 Albuquerque Morning Journal. The announcement described Tingley as a machinist in the Albuquerque foundry and said the couple would live at 618 East Cromwell Avenue. She would stand by him as he climbed the political ladder while making her own mark on the city.

Tingley wasn’t afraid to use his political power to get his way and penalize those who didn’t embrace his vision of growth. He questioned the wisdom of establishing Pat Hurley Park on Albuquerque’s West Side and scoffed at the $6,000 city expenditure to do it. J.R. Farber, chairman of the Hurley Park Committee, said in a March 26, 1954, Albuquerque Tribune article that Tingley’s reaction was “typical of his attitude toward any development on the west side.”

He also clashed with University of New Mexico President Tom Popejoy in the 1950s, not for dreaming but for dreaming too small.

In 1945, voters had approved a tax increase to fund a new city auditorium but the construction was delayed by the Korean War. Popejoy, who was president of UNM from 1948 to 1968, resurrected the idea and proposed a 2,000-seat auditorium on the University of New Mexico campus. Tingley was chairman of the city’s governing body at that time and wanted a venue with 7,000 seats in a different location. He called Popejoy’s chosen location “a hole nobody can find.”

The city, being steered by Tingley, took its money and went elsewhere, building the Civic Auditorium, which opened in 1957 and was demolished in 1986.

Despite the loss of the auditorium, Tingley’s legacy prevails. Tingley served as governor until 1939 and forged a friendship with then president Franklin D. Roosevelt when the men embarked on a political tour of the western states.

While he was governor, Tingley and a group of New Mexico businessmen convinced President Roosevelt to allocate Works Progress Administration funds to the construction of new fairground buildings in an effort to restart the dormant event in 1937. The Tingley Coliseum was the star attraction, but it wouldn’t open until 1957.

The WPA program was created in 1935 by the Roosevelt administration as part of the New Deal, which aimed to lift the country out of the Great Depression and put people back to work. They built bridges, roads, parks and other public buildings.

It’s said Tingley’s close friendship with Roosevelt gave him enough sway to get funding not only for the coliseum but other city landmarks, including Roosevelt Park (named for the president), the Heights Community Center, several elementary schools and Albuquerque Little Theatre.

Tingley and his wife were also dedicated to the sick or disadvantaged, especially children. Using WPA funds, as governor, he set out to establish Carrie Tingley Hospital in Hot Springs (now called Truth or Consequences) to treat children stricken with polio. The hospital relocated to Albuquerque in 1981 and became part of UNM’s Health Sciences.

Tingley removed the city dump to make Tingley Drive and Tingley Beach, the city’s first public swimming pond, and Tingley continues to influence the business community. Last year, the Hyatt Regency Downtown rebranded as The Clyde Hotel, a luxury business-style establishment whose name now honors the prominent politician.

Ironically, it would be the city’s modernization and growth that Tingley had so championed that would end his political career. Albuquerque’s population exploded in the 1940s and 1950s, shifting from the working-class citizens Tingley understood to more college educated residents who had no loyalty to him or any understanding of what he had done for the city.

He fell out of favor and decided not to seek reelection in 1955. He died in 1960 and his wife died a year later.

The Tingley’s have been memorialized in bronze with a scene on the shores of Tingley Beach. It features Carrie Tingley seated on a bench grasping the hand of a child with her husband nearby, left hand holding his hat, his right hand extended for a shake, forever welcoming passersby.

Curious about how a town, street or building got its name? Email columnist Elaine Briseño at ebriseno@abqjournal.com as she continues the monthly journey in “What’s in a Name?”