St. Petersburg Times
Special report
Video report
  • For their own good
    Fifty years ago, they were screwed-up kids sent to the Florida School for Boys to be straightened out. But now they are screwed-up men, scarred by the whippings they endured. Read the story and see a video and portrait gallery.
  • More video reports
Multimedia report
Print Email this storyEmail story Comment Email editor
Fill out this form to email this article to a friend
Your name Your email
Friend's name Friend's email
Your message
 

Election memories link past, present

By STEVE BOUSQUET
Published August 12, 2006


The assignment: Write a political profile of Bob Martinez, the Tampa mayor running for governor.

The editor in Miami had one piece of advice: "Give me an exotic dateline."

He meant I should find a colorful place to start the story, preferably a place Miamians had never heard of.

Pinellas Park was perfect. The site was Joyland, a honky tonk saloon on U.S. 19 with a wooden dance floor.

A lot of words would describe that 1986 campaign, but "joyland" isn't one of them.

The traveling press spent hours listening to a humorless Martinez drone on about the problems with stormwater runoff. But he won.

Every election brings a flood of memories of past campaigns. They have a way of reinforcing links between past and present.

Martinez's gofer, or travel aide, in the back of the plane was Brian Ballard, who worked his way up to chief of staff and now is one of Tallahassee's most successful lobbyists. He's also a key adviser and fundraiser for Charlie Crist.

Ballard's job in 1986 was to carry the candidate's bags and make sure Martinez had plenty of his favorite snack food: honey-roasted peanuts.

In 1988, Bill Gunter, a Democratic Senate candidate, attacked Buddy MacKay in the runoff primary by reminding Jewish voters that MacKay, while in Congress, voted to sell fighter planes to Saudi Arabia.

MacKay dispatched "truth squads" of supporters to refute the insinuation that he was no friend of Israel. He beat Gunter, but lost to Republican Connie Mack.

Gunter's attack was the forerunner of this week's blast by a pro-Rod Smith group that cited Jim Davis' missed vote condemning Hezbollah attacks on Israel.

Over lunch one day in 1988, I listened to a pessimistic George Sheldon, the former Tampa lawmaker who was trying to get a fellow Democrat, Ken Jenne, elected insurance commissioner. In a down-ballot race destined to be decided by TV ads, Jenne's balding head and freckled face were distinct drawbacks.

"Our opponent has the one thing that we lack," Sheldon sighed, pausing for effect. "Hair."

That opponent was a telegenic legislator with a full head of hair named Tom Gallagher.

Covering Cabinet races on Election Day night in 1994, the news was the upset of the longtime Comptroller Gerald Lewis by little-known Republican Bob Milligan, a career military man from Panama City.

Just one problem: Lewis wouldn't concede, and Milligan wouldn't declare victory.

As the clock raced toward deadline, enough votes remained uncounted to keep the outcome mathematically in doubt, but it was obvious Lewis' two-decade career as the state banking regulator was over.

In desperation, I told Milligan over the phone: "The Miami Herald my employer at time has just projected you as the winner!" It was just me saying it, but Milligan took the bait, cleared his throat and declared victory as supporters cheered in the background.

Political reporters prefer to travel with candidates (at our papers' expense). It offers access and convenience.

For sheer decadence, nothing quite matched the last day of Gov. Jeb Bush's re-election campaign in 2002. Aboard Miami Dolphins owner Wayne Huizenga's jet, we luxuriously hopscotched around Florida for a series of Bush rallies.

No honey-roasted peanuts for this crowd. Waiters brought trays of iced shrimp and warm chocolate chip cookies, then swept them away because the powerful jet seemed to land immediately after takeoff.

On a steamy Orlando airport tarmac in 2000, U.S. Senate candidate Bill Nelson got an endorsement from folk-rocker Stephen Stills of Crosby, Stills Nash & Young fame.

Momentarily unable to maintain the proper journalistic detachment, I greeted Stills and told him the first time I remember drinking too much I was 16 and with some friends in Albany in 1970 while listening to his Deja Vu album over and over ("Our house/was a very, very, very fine house ...")

Stills took one look at the graying, middle-aged man standing before him and said: "Man, don't tell me that."

Steve Bousquet can be reached at (850) 224-7263 or bousquet@sptimes.com.

[Last modified August 12, 2006, 01:51:23]


Share your thoughts on this story

Comments on this article
Subscribe to the Times
Click here for daily delivery
of the St. Petersburg Times.

Email Newsletters

ADVERTISEMENT