Backstory: Jonny-come-lately

By Michael Green

Recently, Jon Ralston suggested in the Las Vegas Sun that voters would be unwise if they voted early and didn't get the chance to watch Rep. Jon Porter debate challenger Tom Gallagher. Gallagher certainly would agree.

The debate was fascinating enough to divert our attention from a number of other political issues--a pro-Bush R-J poll that even Republicans discount; an Independent American judicial candidate doing well while his party spews racism and homophobia and claims judges and the 14th Amendment ruined the Constitution; George W. Bush's daily diet of lies and murder.

Oh, yeah, the debate. One cause for fascination--or consternation--was Porter answering Gallagher's charges that he marches in lockstep with other Republicans, who favor a waste dump. If my ears were working, he said--twice--he had stopped interim storage of nuclear waste at Yucca Mountain.

First, Porter managed to pronounce the word correctly (new-clee-er) and as nucular, perhaps out of deference to fellow Republicans in the White House and governor's mansion who can't say it. Second, his success in stopping interim storage must have been news to the rest of Nevada's congressional delegation, whose members might think they had something to do with it, too. Even the press release that Porter's office issued on the subject mentioned the efforts of his House colleague, Jim Gibbons.

Another oddity was what seems to be a Porter campaign strategy that Gallagher handled well but really could have beaten to a bloody pulp. Several times, Porter mentioned living here for 26 years while Gallagher has lived in Nevada just seven years and rented a house in Henderson so he could run for Congress.

Porter changed districts in 2000 to run against Rep. Shelley Berkley, but that's beside the point. So are the ads referring to Porter as "our mayor." He was mayor of Boulder City, a wonderful community, but not exactly the entire valley. It almost makes him sound like he was Oscar Goodman's predecessor.

Understandably, Porter might prefer not to be specific about such topics. Besides, who would know? Probably those who have lived here a long time--like Porter.

That's why Porter asked Gallagher about the Santini-Burton Act, an important piece of public lands legislation from more than two decades ago. Gallagher handled the question well, saying he didn't know what it was, but it was more important to know about "the things that matter" to voters. Porter's goal was to show Gallagher as a Johnny-come-lately to Nevada.

It isn't the first time something like this has happened and won't be the last. In 1991, running for the Las Vegas City Council, Frank Hawkins asked opponent Nicole Stupak where City Hall was. She didn't know. That hurt her chances. Maybe Porter hoped Gallagher would say the Santini-Burton Act used to open for Siegfried & Roy.

One of the classic campaigns in Nevada history was the 1952 Democratic Senate primary. Alan Bible was the frontrunner, for good reason: He was a lifelong Nevadan, a former attorney general and the political protege of Sen. Pat McCarran, the state's most powerful man.

Tom Mechling challenged Bible. He had some Nevada connections: His father-in-law was a longtime Elko businessman and politico. But most Bible supporters saw him as a carpetbagger, a term coined after the Civil War to describe Northerners who moved to the South--some, as their critics claimed, to make money. But some came because they legitimately wanted to help a defeated region overcome its horrible legacy of slavery and ex-slaves to enjoy their basic rights.

Carpetbaggers enjoyed some success. So did Mechling: He beat Bible in the primary. He lost in the general election, because he kept attacking McCarran despite belonging to the same party, then tried to make peace with McCarran's supporters by offering to sell out to them. But even in 1952, many Nevadans were recent arrivals. Southern Nevada's population had tripled in the past decade. They resented the attitude that as newcomers--carpetbaggers--they had no business expressing their views.

Indeed, since the Santini-Burton bill passed, Nevada's population has just about tripled. That's why Gallagher should have responded to Porter with this answer, provided free of charge:

Jon, I admit I don't know about that legislation. But this is part of your effort to show I'm a newcomer to Nevada because I've only lived here seven years. In those seven years, our population has grown by several hundred thousand. You think someone has to live here a long time to have a say in what goes on here. Unlike you, I think if you live in Nevada, you have the right to have a voice in Nevada.

The irony is obvious. In 1926, the Las Vegas Review got a new editor, Al Cahlan, who once complained that a ruling elite ran his old stomping grounds in Reno. A quarter-century later, he was unhappy when a recent arrival, Hank Greenspun, challenged the R-J's primacy with the Sun. Maybe in 25 years, Gallagher will be lamenting these newcomers.

That reminds me. On Nov. 1, my family celebrates an anniversary. On that day in 1967, we moved here from California. I was 2 and had little say in the matter. But as a 37-year resident, I wish newcomers like Jon Porter would let the people who have lived here a while run the state.

Correction: Last week's column referred to Assemblywoman Kathy McClain's "exoneration" for double-dipping during the 2003 legislative session. While an arbitrator held that she should be reinstated, she was suspended without pay for four months.