booth gardner - Washington Secretary of State

administration’s ticklish negotiations with the unions. At Barlow’s urging, Gardner tapped
him to be personnel director in the fall of 1981. Sebring became Gardner’s administrative
aide, in essence deputy county executive, in 1982 when Barlow went back to the Medina
Foundation and the National Guard. Although Barlow and Sebring were as different as
cheese and chalk, Sebring admired him: He was “efficient, organized, very direct and
very straightforward. He would tell you where you stood. If you wanted to know, all
you had to do was ask.” Sebring said Barlow “was probably Booth’s closest friend. He’d
been with him for a long time … in family circles and business affairs.” Sebring adds
that characterizing Barlow as “the enforcer” and Booth as too compliant is a misleading
simplification. “Neither Barlow nor I ever did anything without Booth’s OK. Booth clearly
was in charge. We were the functionaries, implementers. I always knew who was in
charge – and it wasn’t me.” And for all the talk about “the man who loves to be loved,”
Sebring says, “Booth was not one to let faint praise go to his head. He was always very
practical. He expected solid staff work … and for you to do your homework, to ask hard
questions – due diligence…”
One of the new administration’s biggest hurdles from day one was a $200 million
sewer project that had been embroiled in litigation for a decade. The project included
Lakewood, Winsley’s district, and was scheduled to bore under I-5 into Parkland, Clint
Richardson’s district. “A lot of people had septic tank systems and they also didn’t want to
see any growth, which of course would come with new sewers,” Winsley remembers, while
others were simply misinformed. Some of the sewer meetings were like the tumultuous
health care reform “tea parties” of 2009, “with people yelling and practically spitting in our
faces.” Booth was determined to move forward before federal funding lapsed. Wearing a
parka and plaid shirt, he usually sat in the audience, listening intently. When his turn came,
he was usually able to ease the tension with his calm, folksy manner. Unimpressed was one
sewer project foe who paraded outside a meeting with a sign that featured a portrait of a
grinning Gardner. “Certain County Officials Must Go!” it declared. “Booth Gardner First.”
Another carried a “Recall Gardner” placard.
Booth and the new council members emphasized that they welcomed taxpayer
feedback. Winsley says she used to get calls saying, “There’s this guy wearing a plaid
shirt, leaning on a shovel, shooting the breeze with other men, and none of them were
working.” The plaid-shirt guy was Booth out talking with the sewer-project crew.
Gardner loved to get out of the office, grab a burger and rub elbows with the
citizenry and county employees. “I’d go into a supermarket and somebody would wander
over and say, ‘Hi, Mr. Gardner. I’m on the road crew.’ And we’d talk for a bit. They started
inviting me over to visit them on the job. Later I saw one of the guys at a movie or
something and he said, ‘When are you going to go out on the road with us?’ I said, ‘I’ll be
out Monday. Get me somebody to ride with.’ ” Booth tagged along with a worker who was
fixing street signs and dutifully lent a hand as they dug holes, poured cement and replaced
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