When, amid Gilded Age splendor, U.S. Rep. Patrick Kennedy hosted a tribute last Saturday to the late Tony Marcella, aide and friend, several Rhode Island political headliners turned out.

They included U.S. Rep. Jim Langevin, Attorney General Patrick Lynch, House Majority Leader Gordon Fox, Democratic state Chairman Bill Lynch and Warwick Mayor Scott Avedisian.

Adding to the wattage was Sister M. Therese Antone, president of Salve Regina, where the tribute to Marcella, who loved Newport, was held in the opulent 19th-century mansion that is the university’s administration building. “Tony is saying hello to eternity,” she said at a memorial service.

But what struck me was an army of folks from the state’s political infrastructure: staffers, consultants, fundraisers, strategists and lobbyists who make the system run.

Marcella, a peripatetic bundle of nervous energy, made things go for Kennedy, then for Fox. “I always wondered how it was that we managed to get heads of state like the president of Italy and the president of Portugal into little Rhode Island,” Kennedy said at a post-service brunch (eggs, French toast, prime rib). But, “If Tony said we could get it done, we got it done.”

Marcella, once a driver for the congressman’s father, U.S. Sen. Ted Kennedy, died last month of complications associated with ALS. He was 43.

Congressman Kennedy said, “Too many of us live our lives holding back a little bit, living a little bit too defensively, and Tony didn’t live his life that way. He lived it on the offense.”

Langevin told the crowd that elected officials get the glory while often it’s the people around them who do the heavy work.

Indeed, politicians would be clueless without them. They wouldn’t know where to turn, how to get there, or what to do on arriving. It could be a floor vote in Congress. Or a hello at a picnic. You’re impressed a top politician recalls your name? An aide or adviser likely whispered it in his ear.

These folks flit from the State House to Washington, from government to campaigns to the private sector — as a job or hobby. From this corps, the Marcella tribute drew such figures as Tom Hughes, Nancy Langrall, Larry Berman, Mark Weiner, Amy Gabarra, Jennifer Bramley, Paul Tencher, Paula Gemma, Gerry Harrington and labor political activists Bob Walsh, Marcia Reback and George Nee. Also, Kennedy confidant Frank DiPaolo, a 101-year-old doorkeeper at the State House. He used to own the Castle Spa, which Kennedy frequented as a PC student.

Former Kennedy aide Rick McAuliffe said, “To Tony, life was a restaurant and Tony was the maitre d’. He knew the people that liked to go out, he knew the people that liked to talk about policy, he knew people that want to save the world … He knew how to manipulate them for the common good.”

Chris Vitale recalled being 19 or 20 and depositing 1994 congressional candidate Kennedy at a Smithfield event and then scooting over to visit his grandmother. On the way back to get Kennedy, Vitale wrapped the car around a tree. Marcella told him, “Look, kid, don’t worry about it, because when I drove the senator around I did the same thing.”

Fox, once very liberal, sat near Kennedy in the Rhode Island House; they’d talk endlessly. Going into the ’94 U.S. House race, Marcella thought Kennedy’s image needed some retooling. Fox reported, “Tony one day walks up to me and says, ‘You know what? Stop talking to Patrick. It takes me two days to get out of his head what you put in it!’ ”

I’ll miss him.

M. Charles Bakst is The Journal’s political columnist.

mbakst@projo.com