Inside The Lobby
ON A FINE SPRING SATURDAY morning in mid-May, nine days before the end of the legislative session, Bill Abington sat in the Senate gallery and nervously puffed on his cigar, awaiting the final vote on a bill that was as important to him as any he could remember.
His intelligent, pale-blue eyes moved from the list of 31 Senators in his hand to the men themselves, 30 feet below him, as he tried to predict the outcome for the one-hundredth time.
The measure in question was the compulsory oil and gas unitization bill, and as director of the 3000-member Texas Mid-Continent Oil and Gas Association, he personally felt responsible for its passage or defeat.
As he gazed around the gallery, Abington spotted the Exxon boys, Gaylord Armstrong and Wade Spilman. Armstrong is a strapping 6' 3" Austin attorney with reddish-blond hair who used to travel with Ben Barnes and looks enough like him to be kin; Spilman is a former House member, attorney, and the acknowledged expert in oil and gas, insurance, and alcoholic beverage law among the lobbyists. Their company had worked so hard for the bill's passage that during the recent committee hearings it was referred to as "the Exxon Bill."
As Abington continued to gaze at his list, he couldn't figure out why he felt something was wrong. On paper everything looked good.
The bill had easily passed the House earlier in the year by a vote of 103-36. Thirteen Senators, three short of a majority, had co-signed the bill when it was originally introduced. Senator Jack Hightower, a teetotalling, hard-shelled Baptist from Vernon who was the bill's sponsor on the floor, was regarded as an expert and able leader.
Abington was growing impatient as the Senate plodded through regular business. Part of the trouble was that you couldn't depend on anything this session. It was so different. His great friend Ben Barnes, who knew how to run the Senate, was gone. Gus Mutscher, a little slow but always reliable, was a convicted man now living in Brenham. Even ole Preston looked good at this point. You don't miss your water till your well runs dry.
Abington had worked long hours for months on this bill. Now, what was done was done. It was up to those 31 politicians milling around below him who, within the hour, would pass or kill the bill for two more years. Abington settled back in his gallery seat to wait.
Bill Abington is a prominent member of a group of a hundred or so men and a few women who make up the "Third House" of the legislature. Highly paid, thoroughly acquainted with legislators and legislative procedure, they are known, for better or for worse, as The Lobby.
Basically, a lobbyist is a person with no official government position who attempts to influence government decisions and policy. Lobbyists traditionally try to influence legislatures, but may work with the executive branch as well. The name originated during Andrew Jackson's first presidential term, but the popular use derived from persons who, since they were not allowed on the floor, literally hung around in lobbies of legislatures, collaring members for lunch after adjournment.
To lobby successfully requires a great deal of energy from a man who must wear many different hats. Lawyer. Educator. Entertainer. Friend and companion. And if the occasion arises, procurer.
A good lobbyist does five fundamental things: 1. Makes clear who he represents; 2. Makes clear what his interest is; 3. Makes clear what he wants to do and why; 4. Answers questions; 5. Provides enough back-up material and information so politicians can make a judgment.
He also never asks a legislator to vote for or against a bill; this is considered bad form. He explains his position on the bill, answers questions, and, if he is smart, warns how it might hurt back home in the next election.
A good lobbyist has a well developed system of seeing that people in home districts who are interested in legislation are contacted and, in turn, ask politicians to vote for the bill in question.
The Texas State Teacher's Association (TSTA), Texas Trial Lawyers, and the Texas Medical Association are the recognized experts at this "grass roots lobbying." In a town of 50,000, the TSTA will have 300 lobbyists and husbands (or wives) who, upon command from lobbyist L. P. Sturgeon, can flood the legislature with letters or themselves.
The smart lobbyist has this manpower working for him and remains above the nitty gritty of pressure tactics. He is just the good guy who offers information, buys lunches ever so often and, when the vote is near, puts his arm around shoulder after shoulder and says, "This bill is coming up and we need the vote. I sure hope we can count on you."
Many lobbyists are former members of the legislature, and are hired not for their knowledge of the client's business, but because they know legislative procedure and the legislators themselves. Of course, being a lawyer helps, but is not essential.
This past session, six freshmen lobbyists were members two years ago: Ralph Wayne, Texas Mid-Continent Oil and Gas; Ace Pickens, Texas Medical Association; Gerhardt Schulle, Texas Association of Realtors; James Slider, Lone Star Steel; Joe Golman, Dallas Chamber of Commerce, Dallas Community College, and the National Association of Theatre Owners; J. P. Word, Texas Association of Taxpayers.
A few lobbyists learned the ropes as administrative assistants to governors or other Capitol officials. Howard Rose (Padre Island Investment Corporation) was Gov. John Connally's first administrative assistant. Weldon Hart (Texas Good Roads Association) was the top assistant under Gov. Shivers. Dan Petty, (the University of Texas System's Director of Public Affairs) served under Gov. Preston Smith. Buck Wood was the Secretary of State's Director of Elections before taking his present job as lobbyist for Common Cause.
To become chief legal counsel for the Texas Railroad Association was almost inevitable for Walter Caven. He grew up in Marshall, which at that time was the shop town for the Texas and Pacific Railroad. His father was an attorney who represented the railroads, so it wasn't surprising that after serving one term in the House in 1949, Caven went to work for the Railroad Association.
Former members who have secured profitable niches representing their clients before the Legislature are many. A few prominent ones are: Reuben Senterfitt, former speaker of the house (utilities); Terry Townsend (trucks); Bill Abington (oil and gas); Johnnie B. Rogers (insurance); George Cowden (insurance); Searcy Bracewell (Houston Natural Gas, Gulf States Utilities, etc.); Dick Cory, Jep Fuller, Buck Buchanan (Beer); Robert Hughes (independent auto dealers); Gene Fondren (Texas Auto Dealers Association).
The way lobbyists work is as varied as the clients they represent. Where they work most effectively is long before the session begins, in campaigns a full year before the legislature convenes. For instance, there are 414 wholesale beer distributors in Texas who are members of the Wholesale Beer Distributors of Texas. When a man becomes a candidate for the House or Senate, these men find out one thing: Does he drink an occasional beer or is he high tenor in the Baptist Church choir who denounces demon rum every Sunday?
It doesn't matter if he is a Commie-Red-Pinko-Symp or worships the spirit of Joseph Goebbels. Will he vote wet or dry? A study on the candidate's background is sent to their chief, Turner Keith, who studies each candidate's profile carefully before deciding yea, nay, or who cares.
A major change in lobby techniques has occurred in this area in recent years. Previously, the lobby looked at the field of announced candidates and picked out one to support. Today, a strong grass roots organization such as the TSTA will actually recruit a young man or woman to run, particularly if the incumbent has proven an irritant.
With the crack of the gavel convening the new session, the lobbyist begins the endless round of gratuities. They drop by member's offices daily, offering to buy lunch, drinks, or just to chat. Those legislators who respond to flattery are shamelessly backslapped. Those who are fiercely independent are treated at arm's length. Lobbyists know how busy most legislators are and they are always there to hold hands, lift spirits, run messages—being everything from page to lawyer.
One of the bright, new lobbyists explains why this daily contact is important: "Even when nothing is happening that affects my client, I have to keep circulating because inevitably the time will come when it is critical that I know this or that particular member.
"It's like being a fireman. You spend a lot of time polishing the brass and revving up the engine because it has got to work when the bell rings." But this same lobbyist is critical of how some industries play the game. "The railroads have eight to ten men down here all session and they are all assigned certain people to take to lunch every day. John Eck of Southern Pacific has asked Hawkins Menefee every day for lunch, and here it is the last day of the session, and Hawkins ain't been yet. It's not a personal thing but the Hawk just doesn't want to spend his noon hour with a railroad lobbyist."
My Library
