Senate Days - Part II

The 80's were a great time to live in DC.  Ronald Reagan was president and Marion Barry was mayor.  You couldn't have a more interesting study in contrasts.  Crime was rampant, however.  I lived in NW, DC which was over 90% white in a city that was almost 90% black.  Police protection was much greater in NW but in those days crime was everywhere.  I lived on Massachusetts Avenue in the Dupont Circle section . Someone was murdered half a block from my house.  I had visited DC many times over the years, with and without my family.  Once, in HS, I ran away from home and fled to DC of all places.  Being me, I stayed at the Watergate Hotel until I decided to go back home.

I loved visiting DC but didn't like living there.  One's perception of the city was shaped primarily by where you had come from.  I had a friend who was from and worked for a Senator from S. Dakota.  To her this was the big city; Paris, Rome and New York all rolled into one.  If you were from NYC, it seemed like a small town and quickly became dull.  I was lucky to have a close circle of friends from college who had moved to DC, either for work or school, at the same time I did. 

One of the most interesting things I discovered shortly after moving there was the firmly and near universally held belief by black residents in something called "The Plan".  In NYC, we didn't have a widely shared urban legend amongst only one section of the populace.  I never met a white person who believed in "The Plan" and I rarely met a black DC resident who didn't.  "The Plan" was supposed to be a secret scheme by the white power structure in the city to regain control of DC.  After Congress had given DC Home Rule in the 70's, blacks were convinced that a secret cabal existed with a plan to take back power.  There was no evidence of this but blacks were absolutely convinced of it.  It would be startling to me sometimes to be talking to someone, whom I considered thoughtful and intelligent, and asked if they put any validity in "The Plan" they would respond with total certainty that it existed.  To me it was the same as discovering that one of your closest friends actually believed in zombies.  It always took me aback.  Even the mayor of the city, Marion Barry, would speak of "The Plan" and his constituents legitimate concern.

I loved working in the Senate and not a single day did I go to work that I didn't get goosebumps walking into the Capitol or the Hart Senate Office Building.  If you loved the Constitution, regardless of how you felt about who might be sitting in the White House, it was magisterial and never lost its impact on me.  One weekend I had a friend visiting me from out of town.  It was late and we were walking back from a bar.  We passed the Capitol grounds.  The building is just breathtaking at night all lit up.  I said "let's go see the Senate".  I thought my friend would get a kick out of it.  I wasn't sure I could pull it off but back then having a red Senate ID - permanent staff - was pretty much all you needed.  You could enter almost any room in the Capitol complex, kick people off of the elevators or the subway if they were crowded and gain admission to the reserved staff section of the galleries.  We walked right up to the Senate entrance under the portico, I showed my ID and asked the Capitol police officer if it would be OK to take my friend onto the floor for a few minutes.  Sure, he said.  It is completely unimaginable for something like that to happen now.  Not only would I never get onto the floor of the Senate, I would never breeze across the Capitol grounds unchallenged to the Senate entrance.  But it was a different time and I am very glad I worked there then and not now. 

The Hart building is modern architecture constructed with an atrium at its core and all offices looking out into the center.  My cubicle's window looked across to Senator William Armstrong's (R-CO) staff offices.  Sen. Armstrong was a very vocal pro-lifer. In those days I was pro-life as well.  One day his staff put up a giant poster of an aborted fetus on their windows facing out onto the atrium for all to see.  I was basically staring at this giant dead fetus all day.  An office mate called Sen. Armstrong's office and asked if they might take it down.  He explained that we too worked for a pro-life boss and were in agreement with them on the issue, we just didn't want to stare at this giant bloody fetus while we were eating lunch at our desks.  They said they'd call us back.  Sure enough they did and said no way.  So I called the Sergeant at Arms office and complained.  I gave my name and quoted the section of the rules that pertained to window displays. There was no question we were in the right based on the rules.  But Sen. Armstrong  decided he liked what his staff had done, became personally involved and insisted on inspecting it with the Sergeant at Arms once the complaint was registered with his office. The Sergeant at Arms called me himself and asked if I wanted to be there for this inspection of the poster with Sen. Armstrong.  I said that wouldn't be necessary.  I figured that Armstrong might not know that a D'Amato staffer had made the complaint and I didn't want to fuck up the relationship he and Alfonse had.  Armstrong was a zealot of the right's social agenda.  In our office he was referred to as "Wild Bill". 

Sen. Armstrong made a big show of his inspection and a number of us went out to watch.  He said he found nothing wrong or offensive with the poster and that it would stay up.  I told the Sergeant at Arms that I didn't want to pursue the matter.  I could have based on the rules that governed the administration of the Senate.  But there was no point in getting into a pissing match with a US Senator, especially when my boss knew nothing about it.  After a few weeks however they took the giant fetus down on their own.   

The Senate then was filled with old greats like Stennis, Proxmire, Cranston and Metzenbaum as well as where are they now candidates, like Chic Hecht and David Karnes.  I spent many a reception talking to Strom Thurmond.  He was an odd man; loud, funny and friendly.  But always the first one to line up for free food at a reception.  I always thought it must be one of those things from a poor childhood that stays with you throughout your life.

One figure that became fascinating for me to watch was Dan Quayle.  Before August 1988, and George Bush's selection of him as running mate, the view of Dan Quayle by those of us who worked in the Senate was of a serious guy who may have been something of a dilettante.  My recollections comport exactly with the observations of James Mann in his new book, "The Rebellion of Ronald Reagan".  Mann points out what I recall vividly, namely Quayle being in the forefront on arms control issues.  I saw him speak many times on arms control and he knew his throw weights and MIRVs.  It was so interesting to me to see what he allowed himself to become.  Yes, no question the media frenzied on his every mistake and klutzy malapropism but Quayle could have stemmed the deluge of mockery had he handled it better.  I've never seen one man portrayed in such starkly different ways.  I knew members of his staff, and while they said he was not the best boss to work for, he was no dope.  But history will chiefly recall not his fierce opposition to the INF Treaty but Murphy Brown and Potatoes.

The Senate is a completely self-contained world.  You never had to leave.  Restaurants, a travel agency, florists, a barbershop, a bank, woodworking shops, metal shops, and a department that did nothing but fabricate those large blown-up charts you see the members using  as props on the Senate floor.  And then there was the best perk of all - the Senate Stationery store.  The Senate Stationery store is a fairly small space located along a corridor in one of the passageways that connects the Capitol to the office buildings.  In theory all purchases are for official office use.  Rather silly since they sell a vast array of items that could hardly be used in your daily official business.  Further, most real supplies were ordered through a Senate catalog for the real meat and potatoes functioning of the office.  At first hearing the name you might think the store was just office supplies.  And it was.  But it was so much more.  They had luggage, crystal, Mont Blanc and Waterman pens, leather goods, bronze statues, cuff links, clothing and tons more.  You could not even walk into the store without having the stationery card in your hand, and there was only one card per office.  It was like going to an Officer's Club.  No cash or credit cards, you signed for everything.  Back then, at least, every purchase had to be made on the card. 

I along with a few others were favorites of Claudia, the office manager.  As such, we were given the card every so often for shopping sprees.  Usually on a birthday or if someone was leaving.  Initially it started out that only the person being honored got a gift.  But as time went on the group of us would join that person and we'd all wind up getting something on the occasion.  I had certainly benefited from those trips and had accumulated a beautiful Waterford crystal dome that I put jelly beans in, a slew of Mont Blanc pens, leather folders, pewter elephant bookends, cuff links and more.  But the thing I always had my eye on was this butter soft Tumi briefcase.  I had purchased a briefcase from DC's finest leather goods store on Connecticut Avenue when I moved there, but nothing felt or smelled like this Tumi briefcase.  But it was $450 and I could not bring myself to charge it to the office on any of the sprees. 

I knew Claudia wouldn't care, especially after Bill Powers' wife had come down from Albany one afternoon and was rumored to have spent $5,000.  He ran the Senator's Albany office and would later become GOP State Party Chair.  That was apparently the record for use of the Senate stationery card by a single individual in our office.  None-the-less when my day came to depart, the group of us went to the store and as is my nature I let them get what they wanted and I chose to to not get anything for myself.  It was fine, I was happy that my friends were getting what they wanted.  The amount of stuff they selected by the time we hit the register was just too huge and I thought it best to just let it go.  The only thing I really wanted anyway was the briefcase and I wasn't going to get that for myself. 

Everyone was really grateful and thanked me.  Which of course is silly on so many levels.  Thank the Senator, thank Claudia, my God, thank the taxpayers, but I was just the conduit that day.  However, without me leaving - no shopping trip, so I accepted their thanks.

A few hours later the phone rings and Claudia's assistant, Mike, tells me she wants to see me.  I go down and there is a large gift wrapped box.  "This is for you, open it," Claudia tells me.  You should know there is an office in the Senate that does nothing but wrap things, it's called the Wrapping Room.

I unwrapped the box and got a real lump in my throat; the outside of the box said TUMI.  I opened the box and sure enough it was the right briefcase.  "Gia told me everyone got what they wanted but you didn't get the thing you most desired," Claudia said jokingly.  "Wow," I said, "Claudia, this is very touching, thank you."  Neither Claudia nor I liked long emotional moments so I lightened and changed the mood by saying, "we've spent a lot of your money today."  "That's OK," she said, "I'll just fire someone."  Meaning to free up funds.  Claudia was famous for firing staff.  "You can't," I said, "that's a different budget line."  She laughed.  It was a joke, of course.  Claudia was razor sharp and knew everything about the budget and where money could be taken from and moved to.  I left feeling very appreciated and really unsure that going back to NY was the right thing.  People liked me here and I might have a career in the Senate.  I didn't know, I never did, what I wanted for a career or where things would take me.

Incidentally, the briefcase?  I never used it preferring the Camalier & Buckley model I purchased when I first moved to DC.  The Tumi stayed with me, always polished and shiny.  In 2001 Vinny LaPadula, who had been begging me for it for years, offered me a beautiful briefcase Bloomberg had given him, in exchange for the Tumi.  I finally relented.

It was fun working for D'Amato.  Although he never knew my name, it was a very laid back office and I always enjoyed working there.  As for his reputation, I doubt he was the most ethical man you would ever meet but I can't say I saw truly corrupt practices.  Lots of favors for friends and contributors but what's unique about that?  There were always rumors, however, in the office from staff about large cash payments being made in briefcases late at night back in NY and Albany.  One of the Senator's drivers told me he had witnessed an exchange like that personally.  I think in general Alfonse seemed more corrupt than he actually was.  He was just one of those people who looked like he'd take a payoff and his ties to the Nassau County machine never helped.

When Spring of '89' rolled around Ray called me and told me that I needed to leave the office and come back to NY to work on Giuliani's mayoral campaign.  I didn't really want to leave the Senate.  Ray kept telling me about Rudy and that this was an historic moment.  None of that proved to be the convincing factor in my decision to leave, although I did believe all that.  Ray, as is his way, played politics roughly.  Never over the line, but rough.  He had always said publicly that D'Amato was ethically challenged but as D'Amato became the chief Rudy antagonist Ray ratcheted up the rhetoric.  Ray would call him, 'slime' and 'sleaze' and 'a disgrace'.  He would comment on how unimaginable it was that NYS, which had produced Wagner, Javits, Kennedy & Moynihan, should have to suffer the embarrassment of a D'Amato.  Well naturally these comments were printed in the press and distributed in the daily press clips in our office.  D'Amato staffers were fiercely loyal to the Senator and bristled at these mentions of his low intellect or the Senator Pothole implication.  We were very proud of our constituent service. 

Many also took offense at the reference to Moynihan as a great Senator since everyone knew his office did virtually no constituent service at all.  The joke was always, "if you want a lecture on the history of immigration go to Moynihan's office.  If you want help getting a passport, go to D'Amato's."  Other staff started treating me differently and giving me the cold shoulder after Ray's comments started appearing in '89'.  It was that more than anything else that made up my mind.  I knew his comments would only get worse and my loyalty to the Senator was now constantly in question by implication.  But I wanted to leave on as good terms as possible.  So I wrote out a letter of resignation and gave it to Mike Kinsella, the Chief of Staff/AA. 

He was a very low key laconic sort of guy.  He studied the letter and asked me the reason I was leaving.  I told him I just wanted to go back to NY, Washington had lost its appeal.  I did not want to say I had taken a job with the Giuliani campaign.  There was no point.  It would have only made my last few weeks unpleasant for everyone.  But Kinsella would not let me leave until I told him the real reason, he probed and poked for half and hour.  I offered vague reasons but nothing specific.  Finally he said that he thought he knew the reason I was leaving.  If it was to work for Giuliani there were a lot of things about Rudy I didn't know.  His PR wasn't true and Kinsella wanted to set-up time for me to sit with Alfonse so he could explain it to me.  This was not at all what I wanted.  I wanted a very quiet exit.  I said that was extremely gracious but it really wasn't necessary, I was just moving back to NY without any definite plans.  I did not want to sit with the Senator. 

Kinsella kept insisting and told me if I wasn't happy in the office there were other jobs that could be gotten for me in the Bush Administration.  He kept coming back to me sitting with Alfonse who could work all this out and explain to me the things I didn't know.  I finally stood up and ended this which was not usually something a staffer did to his boss.  I told him I really wanted to end on a good note and thanked him for how decent he had been to me and that this had been an extraordinary opportunity. As I left  he told me this matter wasn't settled.  He did try one more time to get me to sit with Alfonse, but again I refused.

It's been twenty years, almost to the day, since I left the Senate. I always wondered what Alfonse would have said.  What revelations did he have in-store that I didn't know or have not learned since?   Ironic I guess that these days it is I enlightening about Rudy rather than being the one informed.

Comments

[John M.]

Fascinating stuff. I was working in and around politics and government in those days and the one thing that was known for sure was that if you made an inquiry or a request for constituent service, or even sent a nasty letter to D'Amato's office, you would always get a response of some kind. If it was a pothole, it would get fixed. If you disagreed on a vote, you'd get a letter saying why and thanking you for your opinion. Moynihan's office was a blackhole. Now, you can call Schumer's office and they refer you to some website. On Hillary's staff, there were too many young people busy flirting with each other to help you. Whatever one thinks about D'Amato's politics, he delivered for NYers, and I'm a liberal Democrat who voted against Rudy every chance I got.

[RAH]

Not sure what the gratuitous nasty remark means. I had lots of friends in college. As for 'Ray', that has been explained previously on the blog.

[Bobby Jones]

College friends?

I didnt know you had friends in College.

Why do you refer to your father as Ray? Most people call there father "Dad"