Remembering a Long Ago Visit to the State Capitol

It was 30 Years ago that Fowlerville lawmaker Fred Dillingham left office

Fred Dillingham is shown here in front of the Michigan State Capitol in December of 1994 during in his last days as a State Senator.

In early December of 1994 my wife and I drove to the State Capitol in Lansing to meet Fred Dillingham who was then serving as the area’s State Senator. I had called him earlier and pitched my idea of doing a story detailing one of his last days as a Michigan legislator. This article would include a retrospect of his career. He had decided not to run again and a new senator, Mike Rogers, would be taking his place in January.

A Fowlerville native, he had started out on the Livingston County Board of Commissioners, winning a four-year term in the 1974 election. He was subsequently elected as a state representative in 1978, serving in that position for eight years. Then in 1986 he ran for the State Senate seat and won.

It was midway through his second term (in the 1992 election) that voters approved a proposition to impose term limits—holding senators in the future to two four-year terms. The way the law was enacted, Fred could have run again. Instead, he opted to leave.

We arranged for a date convenient to both our schedules when the Senate would in session. Arriving, we stopped off at Fred’s office in the Farnum Building, visited with him and one of his staff members for a few minutes and then the four of us headed over to the Capitol building. Dawn and I were treated to a tour of the Senate chambers by the staff member while Fred was in the caucus room with his fellow Republicans, plotting their strategy. We were then able to obtain credentials that allowed us to sit in the press gallery, a small enclave just off the floor. We were instructed, though, to remain there until the recess was called.

So, for about an hour-and-half we got to watch the Senate in action as members considered a couple of bills. Throughout the morning I had been furiously taking notes on what was happening for use in my planned article.

As it turned out, our visit included an extra bonus. A luncheon had been planned that day at the nearby Radisson Hotel to honor those senators (including Fred) who were retiring or otherwise departing. We were invited to attend.

Dick Postumus, the then Senate Majority Leader, hosted the affair. He started out the program by joking that “this is a luncheon of lame ducks.” He noted that nearly a third of the 38 members would be leaving office at the end of the session. The term lame duck, while referring to those 13 senators, also referenced the fact that the legislature was in the midst of a lame duck session.

Each departing senator was given an introduction and a plaque. Each of them, in turn, gave a brief speech. Among those heading to the exit were several well-known and long-serving members: John Kelly, Jack Welborn, Debbie Stabenow, Lana Pollack, Jack Faxon, and William Faust.

All of those who were leaving had brought along their respective staffs and took time in their remarks to introduce and thank these otherwise unsung heroes of the legislature. Fred did likewise when his turn came and then, alluding to his having bumped heads from time to time with the leadership in the Republican caucus—said: “It’s been a lot of fun. There’s been a lot of production. It’s been a time of trial and a time of change, but it’s been very rewarding. As you all know, I’m very passionate about issues. I feel I’ve been sent here to serve all the constituents in my district, not as some feel I should, just the Republicans.

“I’m proud to have been a member of the state legislature for the past 16 years. I’m proud to know all of you. I’ll personally hold this experience close to my heart.”

I should add that Postumus, with whom Fred had apparently not always agreed with in those party meetings, introduced him as “my good friend and the most dedicated father I know.”

While I had my notes from the morning and the unexpected bonus of the luncheon, I had also planned to do a one-on-one interview with Fred for the retrospective part of the overall article. However, due to the luncheon lasting as long as it did and scheduled appointments he had during the afternoon, there was not enough time to do an interview. So, I arranged to come back and meet with him the following week.

On that second visit—this time by myself--I sat in the visitor’s gallery while the Senate conducted its business that morning and then waited for Fred in the hall after the session was adjourned. I found a spot just outside the main entrance where the lobbyists are assigned. The lobbyists on both of my visits were very much in evidence, working hard to either see a bill get passed or defeated.

When Fred walked out of the chambers, he was immediately met by a couple of men wishing to talk with him. I waited patiently, soaking in the scene, watching the legislative sausage being made.

A lame duck session is, of course, the last chance for numerous proposals that had been introduced. If not acted upon before the final gavel is struck, then the process of bringing them back for consideration begins anew.

Adding to the sense of urgency that permeated the air was the realization that the clock was ticking away the last hours on the careers of those 13 senators heading for the exit, along with those serving their few remaining days in the Legislature. The desire to leave a little more legacy, to have one last measure of influence and impact, was (I could tell) compelling.

When Fred left office after that gavel was struck later in the month, he went to work as an administrator for a company that owned numerous funeral homes around the nation. He had earned a mortician’s license and had helped at the family-owned funeral home in Fowlerville while growing up, so at first glance this seemed a natural move.

But public service was in his blood. After just 14 months he left that job to accept the position as the Executive Director for the Livingston County Economic Development Council. After a long tenure in that role, he set up a business and now works as an economic development consultant.

Of that group of departing state senators at the luncheon, only Debbie Stabenow moved onto higher office. She failed in her bid to be governor, but found success running for Congress—first as a House representative and then as our current senior U.S. Senator. Dick Postumus was not among those retiring that year. He continued on as the majority leader and then was elected four years later as lieutenant governor in Gov. John Engler’s third term. His bid to succeed Engler failed though when he lost to Jennifer Granholm in the gubernatorial election of 2002. Engler could not run for a fourth time due to term limits.

In remembering that long-ago visit, three thoughts came to mine.

Term limits, just going into effect back then, has changed the trajectory of Michigan politics and governance. Several of those lawmakers serving with Fred that day would have likely stayed on for many more years given the opportunity, but a host of new faces and voices would have never had the opportunity to serve. Among those who have been elected to serve as representatives or senators, or both, for this area in the intervening years have been Mike Rogers, Valde Garcia, Dan Gustafson, Cindy Denby, Joe Hune and Hank Vaupel. The latter three are Fowlerville area residents.

Many longtime observers of Michigan government do not feel that term limits have proven a benefit; that lawmakers do not last long enough to form working relationships with others, including those across the aisle, and that they lack the institutional knowledge to get results or to take a long view of situations and proposals. They point also to a trend of special interests exerting more influence than was true in the past and of elected officials being too mindful of the partisan political calculations due to their being worried about the next career move—either in another elected office or a job as a lobbyist. The litmus test of party loyalty, they feel, supersedes statesmanship and bipartisanship.

Yet, I recall a Democratic legislator from the Upper Peninsula who controlled the state’s purse strings thanks to his chairmanship of the Appropriations Committee and his seniority. Anyone wanting to get a bill passed that involved money or a project funded in their district was forced to cut a deal with him. His constituents, based on past performance, would have kept him in office as long as he wished. Only term limits broke this stranglehold of power.

Another impression from that visit, albeit based on only a brief first-hand observation, was that lame duck sessions are not necessarily a good idea. I witnessed the hurried activity to beat the clock and get those pet bills and projects approved. Since then my impression has not changed.

It seems to me that a lot of mischief is done and controversial measures passed during this brief interlude between the General Election and the end of the legislative session. Matters that should have been addressed before the election and thus subjected to voter judgment are instead held back for this post-election gathering when voter fatigue and the holidays divert attention. To me the only activity that should occur during this time period is for offices to be cleaned out by those who are leaving and a farewell luncheon held in their honor.

Still another takeaway from the visit was the physical sense of how alluring power can be. Despite only a couple of days at the Capitol, I found myself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. I saw reporters working their beats, asking questions and scribbling the answers that would be used in an article, or else taping an interview with a legislator that would be broadcast on a radio newscast.

“I could do that,” I thought. I could rub elbows with these movers and shakers—such close proximity being one of the perks for a reporter who covers politics along with state or national government. Or, better yet, I could be one of those reporters whose face is as recognizable as the officials he or she covers.

Well, it proved a short-lived fantasy. Once back on the home turf of community journalism, surrounded once again by a more modest set of movers and shakers, the allure faded.

That has not been our only visit to the Capitol. In the years since we’ve covered a couple of swearing-in ceremonies when our area legislators (those from Fowlerville) were sworn into office for the first time and, more recently, we’ve been invited to several State of the State addresses.

On each of those ensuing visits I’ve felt the warmth of that flame and noticed others who, I suspect, also feel the allure that power creates.

I finally got to interview Fred when he steered me away from the crowd in the hall to the nearby Republican caucus room. It was quiet there; only a few lawmakers were present and soon just the two of us occupied the place. After we sat down at the table, I took out my notepad and began asking my assorted questions.

Among them was the ‘why’ of his decision to leave public office at this moment. He explained that he wanted a career change away from Lansing and state government. He mentioned also that he planned to remain in the community for the time being, explaining that “all my children want to be Fowlerville graduates.”

Fred closed his remarks to me that day by saying that he had two things he’d tried to keep in mind while serving in government. “I felt it’s always important to have a good sense of humor, and I tried to keep one; maybe not always as well as I should. And whatever I did, I was most concerned how it played in Fowlerville. I wanted to make sure my hometown was satisfied with my performance. We might not have agreed on different issues, but I wanted my community to feel I was doing the best I could by them.

“They set high standards in a small town,” he concluded. “I hope I’ve met them.”

A sense of humor. Trying to meet the high standards set by your community. Serving all of your constituents, not just those who share your beliefs or political party affiliation. I thought that was a pretty good approach to public service back then. I still do.

* * *

NOTE: I wrote this retrospect in 2016. As for an update among those I mentioned, Fred Dillingham retired several years ago, Senator Stabenow—by far the most illustrious of those 13 state senators at the farewell luncheon—is leaving the U.S. Senate at the end of the month, and Mike Rogers failed this past election in his bid to succeed her in that elective position—unlike the success he had in following her as the area’s state senator and then as its Congressional representative.

As for my wife and I, we haven’t been to the State Capitol of late but are still running the newspaper. If someone wishes to invite us to a luncheon for departing legislators, we’re always game.

But on the serious side, lawmakers come and go; however, the dignity of these institutions of representative government remain. Soiled at times by human misbehavior, well-served in other moments by high principle. Mostly, if functioning as intended, a place of give and take, of finding consensus, and moving forward with the people’s business. Serving as best they can (or as best they should) the needs and aspirations of their constituents. But also, at certain times and situations, going against popular sentiment and attempting to guide those they serve in an uplifting fashion rather than taking a courser, more expedient path.

Steve Horton is editor-publisher of the ‘Fowlerville News & Views’—a mid-Michigan weekly and a commentary on various matters.