In My Time - Dick Cheney [59]
Back home in Casper, we moved into a comfortable old house with a big porch across the front. White with green shutters, it had been built in 1916 by one of the original ranch families in central Wyoming. It needed a lot of work, most of which Lynne and I did ourselves, everything from stripping wallpaper to repairing the roof. I joined the board of a local bank and did a little work for my old firm, Bradley Woods and Company. Lynne got a part-time teaching job at the community college.
The family thrived. Daughters Liz and Mary immediately settled into new schools, rode their bikes around our tree-lined neighborhood, and learned to camp out and fish. Their grandparents were delighted to have their only grandchildren living just five minutes away. Lynne and I renewed old friendships and made new ones.
NINETEEN SEVENTY-EIGHT WAS SHAPING up to be a big political year in Wyoming, with every statewide office from the governorship on down up for grabs. In addition, Cliff Hansen, the former Republican governor and two-term U.S. senator, had announced that he would not stand for reelection, causing a lot of stirring around in both parties about his seat. About the only office not open was Wyoming’s single seat in the House of Representatives. Democratic Congressman Teno Roncalio, a ten-year veteran of the House, was expected to win an easy reelection.
Shortly after we returned to Casper, I drove to Cheyenne to seek advice from former governor Stan Hathaway about the political outlook in the state. Stan had helped me get my first political job as an intern in the Wyoming Senate in 1965, when he was GOP state chairman, and was revered as a great governor and grand old man of the Republican Party. I knew I could count on him for candid advice on my prospects—or lack thereof—and he didn’t disappoint. When I told him that I was giving some thought to seeking the U.S. Senate seat being vacated by Cliff Hansen, he said, “You could do that. You could run for that Senate seat, but if you do, Al Simpson’s going to kick your butt.”
Al was the ideal candidate for whatever office he wanted. He was just completing twelve years in the Wyoming Legislature, the last two as Speaker pro tem. His family had deep roots in Wyoming, his father having been governor and a U.S. senator. The Simpsons were held in high regard by people all over the state, and Al—tall, gangly, and very funny—knew how to win a crowd over with both humor and substance. Stan Hathaway was right. Everyone who ran against Al—in 1978 and in his two subsequent campaigns—got their butts kicked.
My conversation with Stan Hathaway ended any idea I’d had of running for the Senate, and since I wasn’t interested in state office, it looked as though I was going to have to put my political aspirations on hold for a while. But all that changed on a sunny mid-September day when Congressman Roncalio went up to the press box at a University of Wyoming football game and told the radio audience that he didn’t plan to run for reelection. Teno’s announcement opened the way for me to put my name on the ballot in hopes of returning to Washington as a member of the U.S. House of Representatives.
THE FIRST MEETING OF the “Cheney for Congress” Committee was a small affair, just four of us: Lynne, Dave Nicholas, Celeste Colgan, and me.
With Lynne, Liz, Mary and our dog, Cyrano, on the front porch of our house in Casper, Wyoming during my first campaign for Congress, 1978. (Photo by David Kennerly)
Dave was a high school classmate who had been the best man at our wedding. He’d attended Harvard and the University of Wyoming College of Law and was now practicing law in Laramie. He and his wife,