When you are young and a rookie in the real world, your experience as an entry-level working adult can influence your life. 

If you are lucky enough to be mentored by a proven professional with integrity to spare the lessons learned are lasting.

Claire Rosacco will never forget her first boss. She was a newly minted Ohio State University journalism graduate in 1979. The late George Voinovich had just been elected mayor of Cleveland.

I was a reporter assigned to city hall. Ms. Rosacco was part of a cadre of youthful Voinovich administration staffers with surplus optimism in turbulent times.

Her job was to assist the mayor’s press secretary. She was promoted to the position in 1982. “It was exciting to be there. [Mr. Voinovich] let young people our age do an awful lot. He was just a huge force in who we all became in our lives.”

Ms. Rosacco became vice president of government relations and community outreach at Cuyahoga Community College. But her formative career years were spent under the tutelage of a hard-driven mayor with a disarming grin.

Mayor Voinovich eschewed the spotlight and empowered his subordinates, said Ms. Rosacco. She recalled a leader who didn’t always have to be the center of attention.

“George was a very humble person,” she said. “If he could give somebody else the credit for a project or an idea, he was happy to do that.”

“He was all about let’s get the plan done, let’s get the work done and turn it around so people could be served,” Ms. Rosacco added. 

“He really believed in service leadership and giving back to the people was the essence of that public service. I don’t think you find many people today in elected office who feel that way.”

She described her former boss and lifelong friend as an even-keeled man who rarely lost his temper and was pretty upbeat despite the challenges he faced. The hardest one greeted the mayor-elect upon arrival, said Ms. Rosacco.

“He and his senior adviser team weren’t quite aware of the whole fiscal situation they inherited,” she said — putting it mildly. “Their priority was understanding the city finances and putting a plan in place to get the city out of default. It took years. Those were not easy years.”

Yet without much flash or fanfare, the steadfast mayor managed to put his city on solid fiscal footing. Ms. Rosacco admired how Mr. Voinovich could envision seismic change and methodically lay out a plan to achieve it.

He did so much for his hometown, she said, from creating the inner harbor in Cleveland, where a science museum and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame sit, to forming three industrial parks, where none existed, that are still full today. “Many of us who worked with him would say being mayor was probably his favorite job.”

“When you’re mayor you can really see what comes from the seeds you sow, you can watch things come to life.”

When Mr. Voinovich, who died last Sunday at age 79, went to Columbus for his next job as a two-term governor, Ms. Rosacco stayed behind to run his Cleveland office.

By the time he moved again to represent Ohio in the U.S. Senate, his former mayoral press secretary was busy raising two daughters. But her early city hall experiences continued to shape her professionally and personally.

She hasn’t forgotten the lessons learned from a selfless mentor with integrity to spare. “If you can serve people — keeping God, family, and community uppermost in mind — then you have lived a good life. He instilled that in all of us when we were very young.”

“He and I remained close through all these years,” she said. “Those of us who were so fortunate to work with him loved him. He was the type you could always call and ask for advice and he would stop what he was doing and really talk with you about it.”

He was an astute politician who was increasingly frustrated by the polarization of American politics. “He was disappointed that there weren’t more ongoing bipartisan efforts to move our country forward,” said Ms. Rosacco. “He believed good government meant working with everybody.”

“His popularity ratings as Ohio governor and senator were huge, even in heavily Democratic areas, because people knew he was fair, middle-of-the-road, and honest,” she said. “I think he is probably the greatest public servant that our city and our state have known.”

I think Ohioans — and the country — will terribly miss his old school decency, his earnest moderation, and his unpretentious authenticity as a trusted public advocate. Rest in peace, sir.

Marilou Johanek is a columnist for The Blade. Contact her at: mjohanek@theblade.com.

First Published June 18, 2016, 4:00 a.m.