If anybody establishes a Pennsylvania Transportation Hall of Fame, the first inductee should be Thomas D. Larson, a Penn State professor whom Gov. Dick Thornburgh wisely chose in 1979 to head the state's soon-to-be-redefined "highway department."
His doctoral degree was in civil engineering, not medicine, but he wrote the prescriptions for potholes, falling bridges, financial distress, political corruption and other maladies in management and engineering.
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Later, as head of the Federal Highway Administration, he shaped the first Surface Transportation Efficiency Act, whose successor legislation continues to address the most pressing highway problems of the day and sets aside a share of spending on enhancements such as bike trails, beautification projects, scenic roads and historic preservation.
Describing his work at the national level, he said, "I'm painting a picture of what the country will look like and what role transportation will play in the 21st century." In that respect, he was a Van Gogh.
Dr. Larson, 77, who lived in the State College area, died July 20 while I was on vacation. A colleague wrote his obituary, which appeared in Tuesday's editions, appropriately noting "he brought professionalism to everything from potholes to policy."
The former governor and Ginny Thornburgh came from Washington, D.C., for his funeral. Also paying final respects were former U.S. Rep. Bud Shuster, R-Everett, the former chairman of the House Transportation Committee, and Howard Yerusalim and Brad Mallory, who succeeded Dr. Larson and built upon his momentum.
Combined, the Larson-Yerusalim-Mallory trio represented 24 years of PennDOT leadership, a continuity reflected in significantly better roads, bridges, transit and personnel to keep Pennsylvanians on the move.
Dr. Larson, the humble college prof, created a transportation legacy, which is why I pay tribute to him today.
I was there during his tenure. So was Pittsburgh political analyst Bill Green, his press secretary for the first three years.
"The department was a disaster when he took over," Mr. Green said. "The place was broke. People were going to jail. Maintenance sheds were hiring halls for politicians. There was no sense of planning."
It has been awhile since the humble Dr. Larson returned to Nittany Valley, the Pennsylvania Transportation Institute he founded, and his family, farm, horses, bees and garden. But his work lives on.
During his career at PennDOT, Pennsylvania went from No. 50 to No. 1 in the amount of federal highway money it received.
After inheriting a debt of $2.4 billion from previous administrations, he put PennDOT on a "pay-as-you-go" basis. There was a price to pay: Gas tax increases for five years in a row, albeit modest ones.
But Dr. Larson promised "a dollar's worth of service for every dollar collected." Because he delivered, he had bipartisan support in the Legislature and across the state.
Consequently, that old debt, racked up in the 1960s and 1970s, will finally be paid off in several more years and will not burden another generation of drivers and motor-vehicle owners.
I recall Dr. Larson visiting Pittsburgh soon after taking office to meet face to face with a crowd of angry drivers. Then he literally rewrote the book on pothole patching, keeping his promise to eliminate the region's reputation as Pothole Capital of the World.
Consequently, other than in winter emergencies, PennDOT no longer uses the "dump and run" method, but squares and digs out the hole, then drains, fills, rolls and seals it so it doesn't pop out in a day.
Local projects credited to his administration include resolving decades of indecision, controversy and politics to build interstates 579/279 across the North Side and up the East Street Valley; reconstructing the Parkway East "from the ground up," as he put it; and advancing the Greensburg Bypass and the Beaver Valley Expressway toll roads to construction.
He put a stop to paving "election specials," with inch-thick asphalt that lasted until the next vote, and emphasized drainage, sealing and other maintenance procedures still in use today to extend the life of highways.
Dr. Larson battled politicos on the Pennsylvania Turnpike Commission, advocated raising truck weights from 72,380 to 80,000 pounds gross vehicle weight to aid commerce and led the first emissions-inspection program.
"He was a giant in the industry," Mr. Green said. "His influence and impact will be long-lasting."
Dr. Larson made the cover of the transportation equivalent of Time magazine, the Engineering News-Record, as Engineer of the Year.
It was no small feat to take a laughingstock and lead it to national prominence.
Plate du jour. PG colleague Tim McNulty recently spotted the Pennsylvania personalized license plate NO PLUG in town. The plate was on a hybrid Honda Insight.
