The Ten Best and The Ten Worst Legislators
Nineteen people you voted for and one you didn’t.
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Not since O. Henry have Short stories been so in vogue. Broke up a committee hearing on the farm and ranch security program with the comment “In my opinion we ought to pass this legislation for good or bad.” On the floor, responded to a question about whether a proposal violated the sate constitution with “I’ve been here a long time, Senator, and I don’t know that we’ve gotten too involved with the constitution.” Then there was the time Short fled the Senate floor to avoid a pivotal vote on the redfish bill—only to run into a lobbyist stationed outside the chamber for just such an eventuality. Short ducked into the members-only rest room—but the lobbyist followed him in to make certain Short wouldn’t linger through the roll call.
Such antics have earned Short a reputation among hard-boiled types as the worst member of the Legislature. That’s too harsh: he is, after all, without malice or guile, just a politician unsuited to hardball—the sort of man who would make a good city councilman back in Tahoka but will never contribute much in Austin.
Carlos Truan, 46, Democrat, Corpus Christi. A legislature klutz who has made a career out of doing the right thing in the wrong way, with a net effect of zero. Plays the game as though he expects to lose and seldom surprises himself. He still views the Legislature as the closed shop it was ten years ago, when he was a member of the Dirty Thirty opposition and didn’t have a prayer of passing a bill. Consequently, doesn’t do his homework, doesn’t learn the rules, and doesn’t have a prayer of passing a bill. Blames others when he loses, but most of his wounds are self-inflicted.
Not only the senator to get run over during the session, but the only one to throw himself under the wheels. Valiantly tried to filibuster a bad ol’ bill that could have restricted public access to beaches, but had to surrender prematurely when he made an obvious procedural goof. What’s worse, his blunder came at the suggestion of another senator—who, unlike Truan, did know the rules and deliberately led him down the primrose path. Few senators would be held in such low esteem as to be offered a parliamentary Trojan horse; fewer still would take it.
Sometimes ended up losing even when he won. Mishandled a nomination controversy by refusing to wait until after a public hearing before rejecting a Clements appointee—his prerogative as a senator, but a bad political move that led to a lashing by his hometown papers. (Forewarned by Truan’s error of judgment, Senator Hector Uribe of Brownsville let McAllen mayor Othal Brand have his full say before busting him.)
After three sessions, still doesn’t understand how the Senate works. Got trapped in the embarrassing position of having to kill his own bill, not once but twice: the first time because of a devastating floor amendment; the second because he had overlooked a parliamentary device that sent the dying bill not to the Senate’s graveyard by to its intensive-care unit, where it was restored to life and set for automatic passage the next day. Only a committee clerk’s alertness kept the bill—and the amendment—from slipping through.
Truan’s defenders, who include just about everyone who believes that having your heart in the right place is exoneration for all shortcomings, urge the additional defense that he passed the bilingual educational plan, one of the session’s major bills. Overruled: if Truan had not been in the Senate, Attorney General Mark White and the leadership would have seen to it that a bilingual bill passed anyway (indeed, they were prepared to run around him with a House bill) because the state needed some response to Judge Justice’s court order. As for good intentions, they are said to pave the way to places far worse than the Ten Worst list.
Special Awards
Worst Procrastinator
Billy Hall, Laredo. He (1) promised early in the session to sponsor a bill allowing the Texas Department of Corrections to purchase a new prison site but (2) didn’t file the bill until the session was almost over—so late that (3) when he finally did get around to it, he had to beseech his colleagues for a relaxation of House rules just to file the bill; however, (4) by that time TDC had discovered that it didn’t need legislative permission and (5) had already bought the land.
Best Rumor
The motive behind the redfish bill. Commercial fishermen, fighting to prevent a ban on catching redfish and speckled trout, said the real reason for the bill was that John Connally plans to raise redfish in captivity and doesn’t want any competition.
Truth in Lending Award
Senator Betty Andujar, Fort Worth, Defending the proposed 24 per cent interest rate ceiling during Senate debate, she explained, “We’re not sticking it to anyone who isn’t borrowing money.”
Truth in Purchasing Award
Senator Dee Travis, Dallas. Asked whether the huge campaign treasury he collected from business lobbyists was responsible for his anti-consumer stance, Travis answered, “No one has to pay me to work for business. I do it for free.”
Truth in Absentia Award
Senator Dee Travis, Dallas. One week after passing a resolution seeking an amendment to the U.S. Constitution allowing school prayer, Travis fought a proposal to restrict campaign fundraising with the argument that it’s wrong to legislate morality.
Rookie of the Year
Senator Kent Caperton, Bryan. A true moderate; a man with a homing instinct for the middle. Caperton knew when to compromise (as when he worked with two other senators to develop a balanced low-level nuclear waste bill) and knew when to stand firm (as when he continued to press for a work furlough program for prisoners despite Bill Clement’s veto threats). Best House freshman: Terral Smith, Austin, an independent Republican who did some of the best committee work of the session cleaning up the governor’s law-and-order package.
Best Nickname
Bill “Senator Applecheek” Sarpalius, Amarillo. Young, innocent, naïve, nice, and so well meaning. Once during a committee meeting he mentioned Boys Ranch, where he grew up as an orphan. “Is that like Boys’ Town?” asked Tati Santiesteban of El Paso, deadpan. “Yes, I guess it is,” answered an earnest Sarpalius, never catching on that his colleague was referring to a very different kind of institution.
Public Service Award
Elton Bomer, Montalba. For cleansing the Texas Legislature of Fred Head in last year’s election. Runner-up: Jim Turner of Crockett, who defeated Emmett Whitehead. Randy Pennington of Houston was eligible—for defeating Bill Carraway—but Pennington turned out to be worse.
Worst Investment
Texas Medical Association. The doctors’ lobby spent more than $800,000 in campaign contributions and tens of thousands more in lobbying fees only to end up killing its own bill, which had been crippled by amendments.
Bill Moore Memorial Award
Bob Davis, Irving. A 1977 Worst and 1979 Best who, like the legendary Bull of the Brazos before him, simply transcends both categories. Beyond moderation, beyond scruple, beyond classification. A certifiable genius at the legislative process, Davis has forgotten more about power and its uses than most members will ever know. What they do know is that he’s capable of almost anything, from the finest legislative craftsmanship to the most violent disruption—and often both at once
Brilliant on the rules, a peerless strategist, riveting in debate. The only member who could—and did—speak against child welfare services or uniform taxation and sound right. One of the Legislatures’s most instantly recognizable figures: strides unabashed through either chamber, hair ruffled, tie askew, radiating authority—a player so avid he raises political gamesmanship to the intensity of a force of nature.
The one member without whom the character of the session would have been irrevocably changed—even though not a single piece of major legislation bore his name. Kept the House in an uproar for weeks with his pro-GOP machinations during redistricting, until, like an army of ants attacking a rhino, the Democratic majority turned and overwhelmed him. Came within a hair breadth of changing the shape of Texas politics for a decade to come. After members heard on the night of the final redistricting floor battle that Davis had been hospitalized for exhaustion, arch-antagonist John Bryant rose to offer a minor amendment on Davis’s behalf. That it passed overwhelmingly was a clear mark of his colleagues’ grudging respect but couldn’t hide the sad truth that arguably the ablest legislator of all had lost the only battle he really wanted to win.
Most Improved
Senator O.H. “Ike” Harris, Dallas. There have been sessions when Ike Harris wouldn’t attend a committee meeting, much less run one. But the onetime Senate playboy swapped the cocktail glass for the gavel and not only ran the Economic Development Committee better than it had ever been run before, but also was a regular at the Finance Committee, which wrote the Senate version of the state budget. He passed the redfish bill, skillfully using a rare parliamentary maneuver to transfer it from a hostile committee to his own. Even more important was what he didn’t pass—namely, the collection of special-interest bills that in the past made up the bulk of his legislative package.
Most Underrated
El Franco Lee, Houston. A monument to the old adage that art consists of concealing its own artfulness, Lee combines a country-boy slyness with a calculated Stepin Fetchit style. When he is passing a bill, he deliberately mumbles and stumbles through his lines in a way that makes empathetic members refrain from asking any question. It also, apparently, lulls them into forgetting that he is a first-rate engineer, both by profession and in the Legislature. Lee succeeded in holding up a bill coveted by lending institutions and bond lawyers until they agreed to a prohibition against red-lining (refusing to lend money in inner-city neighborhoods). On two other occasions, his last-minute amendments to his own bills caused uproars in the Houston establishment but went unnoticed on the floor. And that’s just the way Lee wants it.
Worst Loser
Frank Collazo, Port Arthur. He got only 2 votes out of 150 for an amendment benefiting big oil on a bill regulating delivery of gasoline to service stations.
Best Riposte
Senator Grant Jones, Abilene. Question (to Jones): “Just tell me one thing, Senator. Is the State of Texas giving birth control pills to unmarried girls without their parents’ consent?” Answer: “I think you’ll find they’re getting pregnant without their parents’ consent.”
Prisoner of War Award
John Bryant, Dallas. Former field marshal of the anti-Clayton forces. Outgunned in the Speaker’s race; withdrew his name at the last minute to minimize casualties among his troops. Was stripped of his chairmanship of the House Study Group; quit the field for most of the session, but did stage covert operations to preserve urban Democrats in redistricting.
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