© St. Petersburg Times, published October 26, 2001
TALLAHASSEE -- At 1:37 p.m. Thursday, Tom Feeney, speaker of the Florida House, put down the telephone at his rostrum and interrupted the proceedings with a surprise announcement. "If you'll indulge me for a minute," he told his 120 members, "I'm talking to the president of the Senate."
This was new. So far that day, in their speeches on the floor, the state House and Senate had been busy thumbing noses at each other over how to cut the state budget.
Feeney picked back up the phone with his left hand. He put his right hand in his pocket as he listened. He took it out and scratched his curly hair. He talked. He rocked gently. Then he hung up and said: "I think we might as well take a 45-minute recess."
At the other end of the Capitol's fourth floor a few minutes later, Frank Brogan, the cheerful lieutenant governor and the emissary of Gov. Jeb Bush, emerged from the office of the Senate president. Escorted by security guards, dressed in a natty, navy blue double-breasted suit, Brogan slipped down a side hall toward the House unnoticed.
"Shuttle diplomacy," Brogan grinned when asked what he was doing. Apparently, he had just been talking to John McKay, the Senate president, and now was on his way to Feeney. Would he say what was being discussed? "No."
In fact, by that point, Brogan already had spoken both to McKay and to Feeney three times, and would do so several more times by phone and in person the rest of the afternoon. It was a private three-step between the executive branch and the two houses of the Legislature -- chambers divided not as much into Republicans and Democrats, as into a House Party and a Senate Party.
Publicly, the House and Senate were two rams butting heads. Both sides had started with the same terrible fact: Because of the economy, they have to cut $1.3-billion out of this year's $48-billion budget.
But the more conservative House insisted on cutting every dollar now. The more compromising Senate had a three-part strategy: cut some now, borrow some from the state's emergency fund, and repeal a tax cut that is supposed to happen Jan. 1.
Both sides stuck out their jaws.
Sen. Ron Silver, a Democrat from Miami, declared on the Senate floor: "I have taken all the cuts I am willing to take with regard to health and human services." He promised the Senate would not accept "one dime more."
Rep. Evelyn Lynn, a Republican from Ormond Beach, mocked the Senate's refusal to make deeper cuts: "The Senate has said, things are fine, don't worry . . . We're going to give you lots of candy and make you happy."
Despite all this, the pressure on the Legislature mounted to reach a middle ground best for the state, best for the members, best for the majority Republicans.
Al Cardenas, chairman of the state Republican Party, made an unscheduled visit to Feeney. Meanwhile, Brogan brought proposals back and forth, checking in with the governor -- not dictating, but chipping in suggestions from the executive branch, too.
At mid afternoon, the governor emerged from his first-floor office and changed the scope of the special session (which he could, because he had called it). Lawmakers could now talk not only about spending cuts, but also about borrowing from the emergency funds, and changing the Jan. 1 tax cut.
"Clearly, there are differing views on this subject," Bush said, then snorted at his own understatement.
What had Brogan been doing, the reporters asked?
"They both trust him," the governor smiled. "They enjoy being in his company, as I do." Brogan stood behind him, looking innocent.
Late in the day, the House pulled an interesting trick: It accepted the Senate's version of the budget cuts for the time being, and then adjourned -- but without backing off on keeping the tax cut.
Nothing is settled really. The question is whether the forces from inside threatening to tear the Legislature apart are overpowered by the forces from outside trying to keep it together.
-- You can reach Howard Troxler at (727) 893-8505 or at troxler@sptimes.com.