IT didn't take long to figure out that the Exy Johnson, Los Angeles' official tall ship, wasn't big enough to hold two of the city's most gregarious political egos.
By the time Councilwoman Janice Hahn stepped aboard the 110-foot-long boat -- leading an annual tall ships parade in the Port of Los Angeles, the hub of her district -- Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa was already on deck, soaking up the spotlight.
"I thought he was on another boat," Hahn commented to an aide. Villaraigosa, surrounded by the ship's crew, glanced at the councilwoman and then went back to signing autographs. If you ask him, Villaraigosa will tell you that he likes Janice Hahn, the doting baby sister of James K. Hahn, the man he defeated in a rough election last spring. And Janice Hahn will say that she wants to see the new mayor succeed, even if he did break her heart by taking away her brother's job.
But put Janice and Antonio in close proximity on the open sea and watch out for the churning undercurrent.
Unlike her brother, Janice Hahn has all the zip and verve of her late father, the revered Kenneth Hahn, who served as a county supervisor for 40 years. And she has suffered to get to where she is: When she told her parents years ago that she was going to run for office, her mother burst into tears. Her father, who had urged her to stay out of politics, was no less disapproving.
For many years, it seemed as if her parents were right. She lost races while her brother made the family proud with victory after victory. It felt like a repeat of all those times when they were kids, when her brother's report cards went up on display while hers got stuffed in a drawer
Now that has changed. Janice, 53, is the only Hahn in public office. With her down-home San Pedro folksiness, she sees herself as the one charged with carrying on the family name and legacy -- even if it means taking on Villaraigosa during his honeymoon with the city.
Hahn has moxie, in spades, and there's no mistaking it: The new mayor is watchful and a bit wary of her. The subtle tension -- although tempered by spurts of joviality -- was obvious during the 2 1/2 hours the councilwoman spent with the mayor recently on the Exy Johnson.
About 10 minutes after Hahn arrived on the ship, Villaraigosa decided it was time to act.
He announced to the crew that he was going to climb the mast to look at the harbor from a platform 40 feet above deck, amid the unfurled sails. She told the mayor that she would follow behind him, but as she watched him struggle to navigate the rope ladder in his black dress shoes, she changed her mind.
"I'm just going to stay here and offer you moral support," she yelled up.
"The key is not to look down," Villaraigosa called back.
The mayor's Los Angeles Police Department security detail watched nearby. "This is either teetering on a PR accomplishment or a disaster," offered a radio reporter.
Once securely on the platform, the mayor surveyed the scene and grinned. He looked down at the blond Hahn, dressed in a sporty pink jacket and suede sneakers. "If you want your projects approved, you have to come up here and talk to me."
She smiled back.
"I need you to get down safely," she said. "I was a cheerleader in high school. That's my role. I'm cheering you on."
She added, quietly: "I do not feel the need to climb up there like that."
She looked up at Villaraigosa again. "Don't fall!"
In the family business
To find political personalities as big as Villaraigosa's and Hahn's at City Hall is pretty rare at the moment. There's already talk about the new mayor running for governor, and perhaps an even higher office someday.
For Hahn -- who is so popular in her district, which stretches from Watts to San Pedro, that she ran unopposed in her reelection bid last spring -- the future also looks promising. She says she is determined to stay in local government, where she thinks she can have the most influence.
So, she wonders, will she run for mayor in four years, when her term limit expires? What about running for county supervisor, like her father?
"You have to think about all your options," she said.
Certainly, politics is something she has been thinking about all her life. Growing up in South Los Angeles as the daughter of the popular liberal Democratic supervisor, she watched her father in awe. They talked about politics at the dinner table, when they went out to restaurants and in church.
"Dad raised us to believe that two of the most noble professions we could go into were full-time preacher or public servant," said Hahn, who still draws on her strong Christian roots for solace and inspiration. "They were the best ways to serve God and man."
But there was a problem: Her father didn't want his only daughter in politics, even though he knew she was a natural. The elder Hahn, earnest but old-fashioned, urged Janice to be a stay-at-home mom.
