Although I usually don’t write about politics, this story is more about people and relationships than it is about politics.
It was a unique moment in the history of South Dakota. It was a time of great political turmoil, nine months after the tragic plane crash that claimed the lives of the governor and seven others. With the Democratic party controlling the state senate and the Republican party controlling the state house, the stage was set for an intense election year. The Republican Governor, Walter Dale Miller, was about to face a primary challenge from the former governor Bill Janklow, who would later go on to win both the primary and the general election. As a rookie lobbyist and political enthusiast, I was fortunate enough to witness this historic event and learn about politics and the legislative process firsthand.
I learned about the importance of understanding the process and procedure of the legislature. I learned about strategy and advocacy. However, the most important lesson I learned was the importance of personal relationships.
To provide some context, South Dakota has a longstanding reputation as a conservative state, with a political landscape that has traditionally been dominated by Republicans both in the legislature and the governor’s office. As a lobbyist, I was faced with the challenge of garnering support for my proposed bills from lawmakers on both sides of the political spectrum, even when their views were at odds with my own. This required a delicate balancing act and a nuanced approach to negotiation and persuasion.
One day early in my career, I was working a couple of bills. This involved discussion with several committee members about the merits of the bill. I thought I had done a good job. I spoke to most of the committee. All indicated support for the bill.
There was one committed member I didn’t lobby. Arrogantly, I thought I didn’t need to lobby him. I had enough votes. I didn’t need his vote. Plus, his nickname was “Grumpy” and I was intimidated. This was a big mistake.
During committee testimony, Grumpy began peppering me with questions about the bill. The inquiry was sharp and relevant. With each question, I could feel my chances slipping away. Soon, the testimony closed, and the committee began discussing the bill. After some back and forth, Grumpy motioned to kill my bill. The motion passed, and my bill was defeated.
After losing the vote, I left the committee room on the fourth floor of the capital and walked down to the second floor where the Governor’s office was located. As I walked along the hallways, I noticed paintings of former governors hanging on the walls. Feeling sorry for myself, I spoke to the portraits and asked for guidance. The former governors spoke to me clearly and advised me not to underestimate anyone, not to assume anything and to know how each committee member plans to vote before the meeting. They also suggested I talk to Grumpy first.
Later that day, I headed to the basement bar of the Kings Inn Hotel to meet up with some friends. The bar, affectionately called “The Pit”, was bustling with activity as usual. Upon my arrival before my friends, I began to look for an open seat to settle in. Luckily, I spotted a vacant spot at the bar and quickly claimed it. However, to my surprise, I realized that I was sitting right beside someone who appeared to be in a sour mood – Grumpy.
Grumpy was more formally known as Representative Al Waltman. He addressed me and expressed his concern by saying, “Hey, I hope you’re not upset with me for killing your bill today.” I fibbed and replied, “No, not at all. It’s part of the process. You made some valid points.” I anxiously searched for my friends. This incident took place before cell phones became prevalent, so I couldn’t use text messaging, Snapchat, WhatsApp, or any other messaging app to contact my friends and request their help.
What happen next was unexpected. We started conversing like two ordinary human beings. It turned out that Waltman hailed from my dad’s hometown. Despite being only a year apart, they moved in different social circles an didn’t know each other. Interestingly, Waltman had graduated from high school with my uncle but didn’t know him either. As we talked, we discussed various topics ranging from family, religion, politics, hobbies, and anything else that came to mind. When my friends finally appeared, I told them I would catch up with them later at a different location.
Waltman and I continued our conversation. We even talked about the bill. By the end of the conversation, he understood my position with the bill. “Why didn’t you just talk to me before committee?”, he asked. I didn’t have a good answer. But I did say, “I promise I won’t make that mistake again.” By the end of our conversation we became friends. I don’t remember if I met up with my friends.
From that night forward, whenever a bill was presented before Waltman’s committee, I would talk to him before the hearing. He would ask me tough questions and make an effort to understand my perspective. He would inform me about his stance on the bill and suggest what changes were necessary to gain his support. Sometimes, he would also offer to help the bill. Whatever his stance, he always kept his word.
We had differing political and religious views, as well as being from different generations. However, our shared love for South Dakota and respect for the process brought us together as colleagues and friends. Grumpy tried to stop some of my bills over the years. Sometimes I won and sometimes he did, but we always maintained mutual respect for each other.
I stopped lobbying around the same time Al Waltman left the legislature, and our paths never crossed again. Despite this, I still think of him often, particularly when the legislature is in session. It’s unfortunate to say that Grumpy passed away in August 2020 at the age of 89. His death was followed by the passing of my oldest brother by just a couple of weeks, which is another tie that binds us.
As I watch the current state of politics, particularly in Washington DC, I wonder what would happen if people were forced to sit next to each other at the bar for a couple of hours.
Photo courtesy of https://www.travelsouthdakota.com/pierre/arts-culture-history/historic-sites/south-dakota-state-capitol
Sireadh Toileachas 