California Quixote

Can a politically clumsy windmill engineer who wants the U.S. out of Iraq succeed in his quest to unseat Abramoff ally and eco-villain Richard Pombo?

By Michael Scherer

Read more: California, Politics, News, Michael Scherer, 2006 Elections

Aug. 29, 2006 | STOCKTON, Calif. -- It's a safe bet that most West Point dropouts who decide to study math and design windmills never find themselves in a roomful of people chanting their names. But then, there are probably not many mathematics Ph.D.s who have borrowed against their mortgages to run for Congress. And there is only one windmill designer who has decided to run -- not once, but twice -- against a powerful Republican committee chairman, Rep. Richard Pombo, the environmental community's Public Enemy No. 1, who has been dogged in recent months by his ties to the convicted lobbyist Jack Abramoff.

So maybe it is Jerry McNerney's due that he stand in a nondescript office park in California's Central Valley on the first Saturday in August surrounded by about 50 fully grown men and women clapping their hands and shouting, "Jer-ry, Jer-ry, Jer-ry, Jer-ry," as if an episode of "The Jerry Springer Show" is about to begin. In the room next door, there is a spread of iced tea and lemonade, and campaign aides have been passing out ice-cream bars and brochures that show McNerney's open face, his high forehead, faint eyebrows and sincere smile, with a double-entendre slogan, "New Energy for Congress." For the moment, the candidate is surrounded by his true believers, the Pombo haters, the grass-roots organizers, the die-hard Democratic volunteers from the labor and Latino communities who he hopes will take him to Washington. On the occasion of the grand opening for McNerney's new Stockton field office, they chant and clap like it's a revival. "He talks to folks," says one of his supporters, Velma Hampson, explaining the McNerney charm and political history. "It impressed the dickens out of me."

But the mood is not as upbeat as it could be for a liberal candidate in this moderate district of fruit farms and commuter homes 30 miles east of San Francisco. Just before the chanting begins, Tor Michaels, McNerney's spokesman, gives an introduction that recalls a storefront preacher anticipating Armageddon. "We want you all to keep the faith," shouts Michaels, who is on leave from his job as a talk-radio host in Pennsylvania. "Because as the train goes down the track there are going to be a lot of hills and valleys." With a slot just before Rush Limbaugh on WBLF AM 970, Michaels has developed a voice with all the passionate inflection and cadence of a radio professional. But right now he is not radiating confidence as much as trying to lift everyone's spirits. "Stick with us," he implores. "Stick with this guy, Jerry McNerney."

Then McNerney takes the floor to applause. But within minutes he is already veering off his script. He gives short shrift to global warming, oil prices, the Iraq war and GOP corruption and turns his comments to the issue on everyone's mind. "Let me say a few words about the questionnaire," he says, his voice suddenly becoming reserved. "Basically I am just an ordinary guy who is trying to make a difference."

The questionnaire he is talking about comes from Project Vote Smart, a nonprofit nonpartisan group that tries to get candidates on the record about their positions. Veteran politicians, like Pombo, see such requests as booby traps. But last winter, McNerney filled out the questionnaire, naively listing his desire to "slightly" raise gas, alcohol and cigarette taxes, while "greatly" increasing corporate, capital gains and inheritance taxes. Pombo's political consultant, Wayne Johnson, got hold of the answers and turned them into a biting direct-mail piece. To wit, "Jerry McNerney may be the only congressional candidate in America who wants to make it tougher for lower income people to get to work." This was bad news for the Democrat, who is still unknown by many of the district's voters.

But then McNerney, who says he does not want people to pay more for gas, took the advice of an inside-the-Beltway advisor and compounded the problem. He decided to change his Vote Smart answers on 55 of the questions, erasing all evidence of his previous support for higher taxes. The Pombo campaign promptly disseminated news of this "flip-flop" to the local media. "I have never in all my years seen anything as breathtaking as what this guy did," gloated Johnson, who is also the president of the American Association of Political Consultants. "If there is one thing that is guaranteed to kill the passion of your core supporters, it is to change your mind."

And thus the scene in the Stockton office park, where, in a room filled with ice cream and lemonade, McNerney is playing defense before his most avid fans. "Let me tell you one thing. I have not changed," the candidate announces, somewhat incongruously. "I still stand for the things I stood for." A few minutes later, after an audience question, McNerney elaborates. "The honest truth is that I wasn't too thrilled with some of the earlier answers," he says. "We changed them in about five or 10 minutes without giving enough thought. I am just an ordinary person, and I missed that one. It's a miscue. It was a mistake."

Amid this back and forth, Michaels, the talk-radio host, steps in to deflect questions for his boss. "Don't get rattled. Don't give up the faith," the spokesman says, his voice booming through the room. "Because this is going to be one of many."

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