Rebel to Realist

I remember the night in April 1980, with most of my possessions shoved into the back seat and trunk of a 1977 rust-colored Ford Maverick, when I drove past the U.S. Capitol as dusk fell. The flags over each end of the building fluttered restlessly. A brilliant glow illuminated the Capitol dome.

From Rebel to Realist: The Career and Legacy of US Congressman Bob Carr

I was in awe. This, I told myself, was where some of the greatest statespersons in history had crafted an enduring government of the people, a government dedicated to liberty and ultimately to equality of opportunity.

And 36 hours later, I would be joining the Washington staff of a Congressman from Michigan in whom I believed. His name was Bob Carr.

It turned out we spent a more eventful three years together than I had anticipated. That November, Bob was unseated by opponent Jim Dunn in an upset that startled — even stunned — political pundits. In November 1982, Carr took the seat back after a vigorously contested campaign. Glad he was back in Congress, I stayed in Michigan and began a career in environmental advocacy.

I had come to know him during those three years as a man of decency and caring. He was attentive to staff as human beings, not servants, and came through for many when they were in need. It wasn’t his humanity that caused me concern.

As I watched him work in Congress the second time around (six terms on top of the three he had served before the 1980 upset), I was increasingly disappointed, even dismayed. I believed he had become part of the system he had disrupted so constructively beginning in 1975.

In his first term he had been instrumental in ending funding for the war in Southeast Asia and toppling the seniority system by which committee chairs were chosen. He had championed Michigan wilderness protection, banning Congressional junkets, and pushing peace through arms control.

In his second stint in Congress, he became an appropriations subcommittee chair, skillfully doling out taxpayer money for projects (most of them worthwhile) for highways, airports, and other infrastructure. He also moved appreciably toward the center, even to the right on many issues.

When Bob ran for the U.S. Senate in 1994, I supported and voted for Lana Pollack, who always stood for her principles. He defeated Lana narrowly in the primary, then lost in the general election to Spencer Abraham, ending Bob’s Congressional career.

Bob and I had no contact for years. Ultimately, we resumed our long-dormant conversation, speaking cordially and occasionally up to the end of his life in 2024.

Today I see his story as more complex — and my reaction to his changes as simple-minded.

Aging means understanding that life is not crystal clear most of the time. It’s a mud-spattered and dust-covered blanket over a hidden, shining light.

In 1980 I thought of politics and lawmaking as a matter of right and wrong, good and bad. Immortal statespersons and quickly-forgotten hacks. There is and was some truth to that, but not the whole truth.

Aging means understanding that life is not crystal clear most of the time. It’s a mud-spattered and dust-covered blanket over a hidden, shining light.

It’s arguable that Bob accomplished more for his district and Michigan when he returned to Congress in 1983, hardened by defeat and determined to make a tangible difference.

With the support and cooperation of Bob’s family, who never tried to influence its content, I wrote the story of his career. Did he lose track of his purpose or grow into a more effect representative? You can decide for yourself.