Vote for Me

On a table full of yard signs, buttons and campaign literature — all with the same message of Vote Mike Allen for Spokane City Council — there is a fat stack of envelopes that deliver a simple, if related, message: Put your money here.

Inside the swank backroom of Raw Sushi, clips of matadors getting gored by bulls play over and over on wall-mounted TVs while speakers emit inoffensive, if cheesy, music. The place begins to swell with the city’s big names — well-heeled kingmakers, developers, politicians.

“How’s it going, Chief?” an older man asks. I tell him I’m a writer for The Inlander. “Have you identified all the city’s powerbrokers here, yet?” he asks.

He’s Steve Dahlstrom, the CEO of Spokane Teacher’s Credit Union and chairman of the Eastern Washington University Foundation Board of Directors. A powerbroker.

“But I’m representing myself tonight,” Dahlstrom points out. I ask him why he supports Allen. “Because I know him,” he says, smiling. “Everybody knows everybody in Spokane. It’s that whole Kevin Bacon thing.”

Clearly, however, there are fewer than six degrees of separation between money and politics. Soon developer Dave Black, of NAI Black, walks in. Then State Rep. Kevin Parker makes the rounds, gripping hands. David Condon, district director for Congresswoman Cathy McMorris Rodgers, meanwhile, looks uncomfortable. And outgoing City Councilman Al French, in a leather jacket, comes in all smiles and is quickly surrounded.

It’s time.

“You’re going to introduce him,” Black tells Dahlstrom, pointing to Allen.

“I thought you were,” Dahlstrom replies.

“Just tell them I have a few words to share,” Allen says.

Finally, Black grabs a mic to introduce Dahlstrom who will introduce Allen. It’s your typical give-me-money plea.

“Write a check,” Black says. “I’m going to.”

Welcome to the race for Spokane City Council. Three contests in the three districts of Spokane: Northeast, the South and Northwest. The basics are simple, as attested by Allen’s fundraising party: It’s an amalgam of glad-handing, asking strangers for money and surrounding yourself with the influential. It takes piles of cash, parading through neighborhoods ringing doorbells, planting countless signs along roads and in yards, building a campaign structure and herding volunteers to do task after thankless task.

It’s a marathon — and the races, though similar, have shaped up to be three completely different beasts.

THE SETUP

District 1: Amber Waldref versus Mike Fagan in northeast Spokane. Here, voter apathy has turned campaigning into a battle of foot soldiers and yard signs. The candidates’ names vie for attention on busy intersections and in the medians of major thoroughfares. Issues and money matter, sure, but it’s all about grabbing voters with an anxious appeal: “Vote, dammit!”

District 2: The incumbent Allen is challenged by Jon Snyder in the southern part of the city. This is a money race, where organization and well-defined platforms matter to an informed and engaged electorate. People here are going to vote, and it takes a political machine (steering committees, fund-raisers, campaign managers) to win.

District 3: Karen Kearney takes on incumbent Nancy McLaughlin. In what’s regarded as the most conservative district, voters care less about tree-lined streets than widening them. They worry less about the downtown core and more about the growth on the district’s northern edge.

It’s been 10 years since the races for City Council have been trifurcated as they are now. Before November 1999, candidates ran citywide races. The change in how we elect our municipal leaders came in response to the River Park Square debacle, writes independent journalist William Stimson in the introduction to his political history of Spokane. (It was recently re-published on the nonprofit Center for Justice’s Website.)

The change in Spokane’s governmental structure — voting by district and jettisoning the city manager for a “strong mayor” — was approved by voters rebelling and reacting to the city’s “leading family [the Cowles, owners of the Spokesman-Review, taking] advantage of taxpayers.”

“This has had its intended effect of counterbalancing the influence of downtown business,” Stimson writes. “It’s doubtful the newly constituted council would conspire to slip a downtown improvement plan past voters.”

Differences between districts have spawned different campaign strategies, with each district acting as a miniature Spokane, says Judith Gilmore, a Democratic fixture in local politics. In Amber Waldref, District 1 has a candidate more like what people assume would come out of the well-heeled South Hill. And District 2 contains the affluent South Hill as well as part of the hardscrabble East Central neighborhood.

“Not only do you have to know our own district damn well, but you have to know about issues that affect the entire city,” Gilmore says. “The cost of what it takes to run a campaign anymore… to try and do it citywide would be outrageous.”

NORTHEAST: RING MY BELL

Amber Waldref answers her door wearing a Georgetown sweater and jeans. At 32, she’s the youngest candidate in the race. She keeps her chestnut hair in a bob.

Inside are people who will help her ring doorbells today: Jason, Jen and Sabrina from SEIU Healthcare 1199 NW. Early on in the campaign for this non-partisan position, the Democratic Party lined up behind Waldref. Sharon Smith, vice chair for the state’s Democrats, says, “It doesn’t get much better [than Waldref].”

Which is why she has so many union endorsements: Spokane Fire Fighters Union Local 29, Spokane City Employees Local 270, AFSCME, AFL-CIO, IBEW Local 73, SEIU Healthcare 775NW and 1199 NW and the Spokane Regional Labor Council. Union power is helpful, especially in District 1: Union folks are seasoned pros in ringing doorbells and staying on message. 

Waldref’s dining room is campaign headquarters. Her table is strewn with door-hangers and campaign literature. On the wall hangs a laminated map of the city. On it, northeast Spokane is obscured by blue, yellow and red Post-It notes, torn and marking where she’s already doorbelled. With just 45 percent of the electorate voting on average, compared with the other districts’ 55 percent turnout, Waldref has to excite voters, usually by meeting them in person.

Throughout the day, she delivers a 30-second homily to each opened door, a quick inventory of who she is, what she wants to do, et cetera. Then she asks them what they’re thinking.

One guy didn’t like the Avista employees parking on his street. One woman loved Police Chief Anne Kirkpatrick; the person next door hated her. A “working man” didn’t listen long before he told Waldref she had his vote. One guy pulled open the door and told us to “stay back. I have H1N1.”

Over the course of two hours, Waldref went to 37 houses, less than half of which answered. That’s average, she says. Since June, she’s personally knocked on probably 1,600 doors, she estimates, and her campaign has hit some 6,000 houses. In the scheme of things, she says, today was a good day.

Mike Fagan, Waldref’s opponent, has two simple principles for candidates. “Job One is having a sound message and Job Two is getting out there and telling people your message,” he says. “Doorbelling. It is probably one of the most important things a candidate can do.”

In the same vein, in District 1, raising funds doesn’t carry as much weight as in other districts. Out of the six council candidates on the ballot, Fagan has raised the smallest amount of money, with less than $10,000. Other candidates in other districts have raised $40,000.

Fagan says this proves he’s not beholden to anyone. Besides, it’s not about who you know with money, he adds. It’s just who you know. But according to the Public Disclosure Commission, Fagan has received $1,000 from the Monroe Court Limited Partnership, his largest donor. The company is also one of the largest donors to both Mike Allen and Nancy McLaughlin, the only two incumbents running this year.

According to the state Department of Licensing, Monroe Court is owned by developer Marcus DeWood, who made news last year when the City Council (by a 6-1 vote with Richard Rush opposing) reversed a ruling by the city’s hearing examiner to allow for a 100-foot office and retail tower to be built just west of the county courthouse.

That decision was appealed and sits, waiting, for a decision by an appellate court, which is expected in January. In the meantime, DeWood has drawn new plans for the same tower, without the retail element and thus appeasing the district court judge’s ruling from last December that said the development was within the city’s Comprehensive Plan — if it didn’t contain retail.

Generally speaking, even to have a chance, a candidate needs $7,000 in the bank for just the primary, let alone the months before the general. Money wins elections, but there are always exceptions: two years ago, Richard Rush trounced Brad Stark with a much smaller war chest, and Mary Verner gave the same treatment to Dennis Hession in the last mayoral election. But these are definitely not the rule.

In 2007, Steve Corker beat Lewis Griffin in District 3 by 6 percentage points, out-raising him with a similar spread, $14,300 to $11,800.
Two years before, a similar thing happened in two races. On the south side, Mary Verner easily carried the day with 66 percent of the vote.

With $42,000, she had raised about $10,000 more than her opponent, Dallas Hawkins. In northwest Spokane, Nancy McLaughlin raised approximately $28,000 more than her opponent and beat him by 24 percentage points.

“I walk around with a lot of envelopes in my pocket. If people say they appreciate me, I say, ‘Well, if you want to keep on appreciating me…’” McLaughlin says with a laugh, not finishing her sentence.

NORTHWEST: Reading the Signs

“Signs actually provide recognition,” says City Councilman Bob Apple, a veteran of two successful campaigns. “Signs are one of those things that if they’re placed early enough and in a good location, they provide for background mental stimulation.”

The stimulation? Vote. For. Me.

“Signs on private property are huge because it shows real people support you,” says McLaughlin. Anybody can throw a sign up in the median, but a front yard usually only supports one person. McLaughlin has a knack for getting them everywhere.

McLaughlin guesses she’s lost 25 percent of her signs to theft or damage. Her husband, Dave, takes it personally when the campaign’s signs are vandalized. “My husband is the sign guru,” she says. “He goes through and replaces them.”

A woman McLaughlin met through the Inland Northwest Coalition, a conservative political organization, regularly calls people who have McLaughlin signs to see if they need a replacement. McLaughlin also draws on a database of people who supported her last campaign and asks to use their yards again.

All this explains why northwest Spokane is McLaughlin Land.

“When we were at our neighborhood’s Night Out Against Crime, this man approached me and said, ‘I know you. I voted for you.’ I said, ‘Why?’ ‘Because I opened up the ballot and yours was the only name I recognized,’” McLaughlin says.

For McLaughlin, signs are just one aspect of a very disciplined organization, which might explain why in September’s primary she whupped her opponent, Karen Kearney, with three times as many votes and has raised almost $40,000 — four times Kearney’s take.

McLaughlin, unlike her opponent, has a campaign manager and two treasurers. She has a volunteer coordinator to shepherd her doorbellers and sign wavers. There’s a woman who does all her graphic design and some friends in marketing who help her on her advertising. In a bleak year nationally for Republicans, the local GOP has lined up behind McLaughlin as their golden candidate of the year, supplying her with volunteers and infrastructure assistance. “I can’t remember the county party ever giving money to City Council races. I think this is the first time,” says party spokesman Curt Fackler.

And there’s one more element unique to McLaughlin’s campaign. “I have a prayer person,” she says. “I am Christian and that’s a part of who I am and I think it’s important.”

In contrast, Kearney has a different, homier style of campaigning. “Quite frankly, it’s a campaign that’s basically run by me,” she says. “There’s no great big machine behind me. It’s very grassroots.”

Still, Kearney’s gotten her message out, having rung 3,500 doorbells, staked 500 yard signs and erected 250 larger signs along major roads. She says she understands the juggernaut she’s up against, and she’s happy with the campaign she’s run.

“She’s the incumbent and she’s been endorsed by the Republican Party. I’m an independent. … I did not go to either party, but I have people from both parties backing me,” she says. “You just do what it takes.”

SOUTH: You Gotta Fight

It’s Saturday night at the Spokane Arena’s parking lot. All the streets surrounding are packed with cars. Yet right across the avenue, it’s a completely different affair at the Eastern Washington Center for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing. Inside, Jon Snyder is speaking to eight people… or rather, he’s speaking, but they’re watching Schawn Hardesty’s hands translate.

It’s another one of Snyder’s countless events to drum up more votes. He’s the first candidate to visit the center in at least nine years. It’s a testament to Snyder’s desire to reach out — but in this room, he soon learns, only two people actually live in his district and can vote for him. This fact doesn’t dissuade him.

The folks here mainly want to discuss “communication access,” and so does Snyder — he wears a hearing aid himself. Hearing loss runs in the family, he explains to the group — that and years of “way, way too much loud music when I was younger.” Snyder speaks to all their concerns — signing translators at council meetings, a way to know what stops are coming while riding the bus — but he consistently brings the discussion around to his campaign’s core issues. By the end, this group of mainly older folks all appear to agree on the need for light rail in Spokane.

It’s this skill — the clarity of message — that matters so much in District 2.

“These things come pretty easy to me,” Snyder says. “I like doorbelling. … I like interacting with folks. I like speaking. I like debating. Those are all things you have to do.”

And they come pretty easily to Allen as well. Though Snyder is backed by the Democratic Party and is recognized as the progressive in the race, Allen insists that the candidates aren’t too far apart — even though he was denied endorsements by both Democrats and Republicans.

To get these southern votes, a candidate has to give plenty of lip service to neighborhood planning and the importance of consistent and quality delivery of city services. And on these more liberal issues, the candidates talk the same talk — so much so that it has become an issue.

“My opponent is adopting all the campaign language I’ve been using in an effort to confuse voters,” Snyder declares in a recent e-mail to supporters.

Regardless of rhetoric, the race in District 2 is easy to sum up: collect piles of cash and hire somebody to manage your campaign.

“The rule of thumb is: A candidate should be doing fund-raising and voter contact… and networking with important groups,” Snyder says. With fund-raising, Allen has brought in more than $20,000; Snyder’s collected more than $40,000. And first-time candidate Snyder beat the incumbent Allen by 4 percentage points in September’s primary.

“I learned pretty quickly that I needed a campaign manager [after the primary],” Allen says.

And now, unlike the other two districts, both candidates have paid campaign managers and organizations below them. For campaign managers, Snyder has Lorna Walsh, who he’s paid $3,500 so far. And Allen has Ben Oakley, who’s collected $1,500 from the campaign.

Besides a steering committee and volunteers, Snyder also has someone in his campaign who performs a unique function. “I have one person [and] all he does is work on campaign vehicle No. 1,” Snyder says. “My bike.”

Wallets and Ballots
It’s Monday, and on the top-floor apartment of a downtown condo, dozens of contributors and cash-giving progressives are gathering. It’s a double-header fund-raiser for Snyder and Waldref, and both candidates are wearing nametags in a wide-open living room with a gas fireplace between picture windows overlooking the falls, downtown, the South Hill and the bridges. Senate Majority Leader Lisa Brown and state Rep. Timm Ormsby glad-hand supporters.

Soon, Sharon Smith — who’s hosting the affair with partner Don Barbieri — calms the crowd and gets them to move to the main room. The candidates are ready to speak and make everyone feel just dandy about supporting them — with their wallets and with their votes.

Silencing her guests, Smith informs them that The Inlander is in attendance but tells them not to worry: Everything from here on out is off the record….

Except, of course, the very end of the evening, when I’m standing with Barbieri. His place is almost cleared out and he introduces me to everybody — Spokane Indians President Andrew Billig, former state Rep. Denny Dellwo, environmental lawyer Rick Eichstadt.

Then Kitty Klitzke, who operates the Spokane chapter of the progressive group Futurewise, runs in with a handful of envelopes.

She had been manning the door, collecting checks from folks on their way out. She’s filled with energy, almost bouncing in place and waving the thick collection for all to see. The night’s take, just a bit more than $4,000 for each candidate. In Klitzke’s hands, the envelopes fall back and forth as she waves them around, clumsy under their own weight. Not a bad party.