Read Politics Never Broke His Heart - Washington Secretary of State

PREFACE
V
SPELLMAN ALWAYS SAID his management style relied “more on love than
fear,” yet he countenanced two campaigns that were landmarks in the use
of attack advertising in Washington state politics. 12 The ads relied if not on
fear, loathing. The first ones were decisive in electing him governor. His
opponent was state Senator Jim McDermott, the doctor turned politician.
Spellman’s full-page ads in the Spokane papers asked, “Do you want a liberal
Seattle psychiatrist running your state?” The same ad—minus one word:
“Seattle”—ran in the Puget Sound papers. McDermott said it was appallingly
divisive, “the politics of polarization,” and a slam on a profession that
has helped millions struggling with mental illness. Spellman says they were
merely telling the truth: Jim McDermott is a liberal Seattle psychiatrist.
The second attack ad—actually an increasingly greasy series of three—
sealed Spellman’s defeat in 1984. Gardner had a huge lead after the primary.
Spellman’s strategists, desperate to close the gap, seized on an anythingyou-want
letter Gardner had written to union members. Spellman’s ads
depicted Gardner as the puppet of organized labor, with cigar-chomping
“Big Labor Bosses” salivating over his letter. Spellman had misgivings about
the ads but went along. It was the worst mistake of his political career, he
says. “The ads were way over the top, and they negated everything I’d done
over the previous 30 years as an ally of labor.”
So, while politics never broke Spellman’s heart, there were times when
it bruised his conscience. He is an intensely spiritual man, a devout Irish
Catholic, but also a fervent ecumenist who grieves over the ungodly things
men do in God’s name. As I pondered the portrait of Thomas More over
the fireplace in the Spellmans’ living room, I remarked mischievously that
a new book reminds us that “The Man for all Seasons” coldly consigned at
least six shrieking Lutherans to be burned at the stake. “Well,” Spellman
said with a wink of his own, “those were different times.”
Some people who worked with Spellman for years keep telling me he’s
shy. One thing I know for certain is that he isn’t. Granted, he’s “not much
of a hugger”—his words—but his reserve is the sense of modesty Jesuits
inculcate at the seminary. Spellman loves his church and Lois Murphy, the
strong-willed Democrat he married 59 years ago; he loves his six children
and six grandchildren; his jazz record collection; well-bred dogs; steelhead
streams on crisp mornings, and rainy days in front of the fireplace with a
good book. He still goes to his law office several times a week and participates
in several community betterment activities. Spellman offered ongoing
support and advice to Governor Chris Gregoire on her staggering budget
problems. She believes he is one of our most underappreciated governors.
From the 36th floor of a skyscraper overlooking Elliott Bay, Spellman