End of Campaign Finds Fund-Raisers Often at the End of Their Ropes

Orange County political fund-raiser Audrey Redfern remembers the reception as one of her more successful events--but one that was “a nightmare” to produce.

It was September, 1984. Democratic vice presidential candidate Geraldine Ferraro was in town, and Redfern had persuaded 500 people to pay $50 each to meet Ferraro over wine and hors d’oeuvres at UC Irvine’s University Club.

The morning of the event, “I woke up to find that a pro-life group planned to picket,” Redfern said. Next the Secret Service informed her that the fund-raiser could not go on unless all the dining room windows were draped in navy blue cloth so no one could see in.

But for all the last-minute panic, Redfern found a place that would rent her yards and yards of blue fabric, and Ferraro spoke without incident to a standing-room-only crowd. The event raised $25,000 for the Mondale-Ferraro campaign. Not bad for a two-hour reception.

The world of political fund raising is filled with headaches and thousands of picky details--from hand addressing 8,000 invitations for a $500-a-plate dinner for a U.S. Senate candidate to dealing with the Secret Service. But in an election year, this is critically important work--especially this late in an election year.

With just just over two weeks left in the campaigns, the ability to raise money--lots of it, quickly--can be pivotal to a candidate’s chances.

“The bottom line is this,” said Brian Bennett, chief of staff for Rep. Robert K. Dornan (R-Garden Grove), “if Robin doesn’t raise the money, we can’t run the campaign.”

Asking for More Money

“Robin” is Robin Dornan Griffin, Dornan’s oldest daughter and his principal fund-raiser. She is scrambling now to raise another $200,000 to finance several more districtwide mailers in the last days of Dornan’s reelection campaign. That means writing a new letter appealing for help to a Dornan list of 32,000 previous donors. The tone of the plea is important, Griffin said. “I don’t want the reader to say, ‘Oh, they’re coming at me again.’ We want them to enjoy what they’re reading.”

Dornan’s opponent, Democratic Assemblyman Richard Robinson (D-Garden Grove) is making 20 to 100 phone calls a day asking for contributions for what his staff is referring to as a $500,000 campaign.

“It’s not a pleasant task, but it’s a very necessary part of the campaign,” he said between calls recently.

As part of their continuing effort to finance the campaign, Dornan and his wife, Sallie, are also making personal telephone calls to large donors and to political action committees. They call it “tin-cupping.”

“You just feel like it’s sweaty because you know they know you need the money,” Sallie Dornan said. “I wish they’d put a cap on what you could spend. I think it’s crazy.”

According to reports filed with the Federal Election Commission, Robinson and Dornan are running Orange County’s costliest campaigns this year.

Robinson’s calls and personal appearances have raised $348,646 this year--$105,894 of that in the latest reporting period from July 1 through Sept. 30. In that period, $37,144 came from individuals, mostly from attorneys and bankers giving $1,000 each, and another $68,750 came from 33 political action committees, among them groups representing educators, insurance underwriters and letter carriers. Dornan has raised $554,190 since Jan. 1, $246,569 of that in the latest reporting period.

Variety of Sources

Of the recent contributions, $156,000 came through individual contributions of less than $200 each--these in response to Dornan’s direct-mail solicitations, Bennett said. Another $1,616 came from the National Republican Congressional Committee, and $29,100 came from political action committees.

The money has been spent on a variety of campaign tools.

Dornan, who had spent a total of $521,540 by Sept. 30, shelled out $20,000 for 2,000 Dornan-for-Congress signs around the district. A recent eight-page mailer, one of six sent so far, cost $35,000--and there are many more to come, Bennett said.

Robinson, who had spent $280,813 on his campaign as of Sept. 30, paid $2,000 to put on two fund-raising receptions and $12,000 for a poll. And, in keeping with a time-honored tradition of Robinson campaigns, he has spent $12,000 on flowered potholders. Inscribed with his name, they were being mailed this week to 55,000 Democratic households in the 38th Congressional District.

Both the Dornan and Robinson campaigns are handling their fund raising themselves because the candidates believe their personal solicitations are more effective--and it’s cheaper than hiring a consultant to raise the money.

Other campaigns, such as Los Angeles Mayor Tom Bradley’s gubernatorial effort, use volunteer fund-raisers to tap Orange County’s contributor base. Lawyer Michael G. Balmages, Bradley’s Orange County chairman, figures he has raised $70,000 for Bradley so far by contacting friends, relatives, business acquaintances--even opposing counsel.

“When I’m raising funds for a candidate, I’m 100% fund raising all the time,” Balmages said.

And for a small band of consultants, who take 7% to 20% of the gross for their work, political fund raising has become a cottage industry. Some, like Redfern, have other jobs but do political fund raising on the side. Nancy Dooley, former secretary to Rep. Robert E. Badham (R-Newport Beach), works full time out of her El Toro home as a specialist; she doesn’t solicit money directly but works as a Republican “event coordinator.”

Invitations in Longhand

Accompanied by two assistants and a dog named Cinnamon, Dooley sits at her family’s oak dining room table arranging campaign dinners for U.S. Senate candidate Ed Zschau, Orange County Sheriff-Coroner Brad Gates and state Sen. Marian Bergeson (R-Newport Beach). Working with a list of 10,000 Orange County Republican contributors, she hand addresses thousands of invitations, plans seating arrangements and gets small packets of dinner tickets ready.

Whether they are professionals or volunteers, political fund-raisers agree that believing in the candidate is essential to their work.

Before a recent Zschau dinner, Dooley said she had to do some selling to persuade several of the 1,000 or so people she called to buy $500 tickets for the event; in two cases, she arranged for potential donors to talk with Zschau or a member of his campaign staff.

Sarah Catz, now a partner in a women’s clothing store but for 2 1/2 years a professional fund-raiser here for Democratic candidates, said she enjoyed being a saleswoman “for a candidate I’ve believed in. I’ve turned down jobs for candidates I could care less about.”

For all the personal and political reasons a fund-raiser may mention for contributing to a candidate, tax benefits do not appear to be among them. Under the current tax law, an individual can receive credit for a maximum of $50 a year for all donations to local, state and federal candidates and those filing joint returns can get credit for $100.

Under the new federal income tax law, effective in January, it’s simple, said Brea accountant Mike Cohen. “No deductions--period--for political contributions.” Tax reasons have never been an incentive for political contributions, he said. “People really give because they want to influence political positions.”

Ethical, Legal Issues

Political fund-raising involves some ethical and legal considerations.

Assemblyman Robinson, for instance, said he is handling his own fund raising in part because donors like to speak to the candidate, but also because otherwise “you don’t know what representations are made in the course of raising money.”

And representations--real or imagined--can be a major part of the fund-raising process.

“Major donors expect something 60% of the time,” Catz said. Mostly they want to influence legislation, she said, but she did recall one donor who requested something more--a call from the candidate to a USC dean to help the donor’s child get into graduate school.

The Irvine Co. last year was the state’s top corporate contributor to legislators and constitutional officeholders, giving $182,029 to both Republicans and Democrats around the state.

Explaining its policy toward political giving, spokesman Mike Stockstill said the Irvine Co. gives to those in leadership positions because “you want to be positioned to be a participant in decisions. There’s 3,000 to 5,000 bills every year and thousands of lobbyists walking the halls. Unless you have the ability to be listened to late at night when a crucial decision is being made . . . you’re not in operation.”

But Stockstill added, “You’re never going to get anybody to blow your way just because you give money.”

Earlier this month, at the Irvine Co.’s request, the Orange County district attorney’s office began investigating whether company consultants may have illegally laundered money to two Irvine City Council candidates’ campaigns. Any hidden political contributions given through a middleman are strictly against company policy, company Vice Chairman Thomas H. Nielsen has said.

Limits on Contributions

Limits on political contributions are yet another issue to be kept in mind by political fund-raisers. In congressional races, an individual may not contribute more than $1,000 to a candidate in a primary and $1,000 in the general election. Officials in campaigns like Dornan’s therefore watch their computer lists of contributors “like a hawk,” to make sure a donor has not given more than the maximum, Robin Dornan Griffin said.

In 1984, when Catz served as finance director for Democrat Carol Ann Bradford’s congressional race, one donor “wanted to give Carol Ann $10,000,” Catz recalled.

“I tried everything in my power to have that happen in a legal way,” she said. “But people just said ‘Hang it up. Unless you want to launder the money, don’t do it.’ . . . Sometimes you get excited about the prospect of having that much money in your hands. It’s hard to turn it down.” But she did.

Some of the volunteer fund-raisers say they like the glamour and excitement of political fund raising.

“I love it,” Balmages said. “It’s fun. I like the parties. I like meeting all the people I meet.”

But the professionals describe fund raising in more mundane terms.

Said Redfern: “I am a fund-raiser. I am not a party giver.”

Griffin, who also works out of her home, describes it as a high-stress job that gets particularly stressful in the weeks before the election with “the mailers going out, two children wanting your attention, two phones that never stop ringing. It’s not true you can do it all. Someone suffers. I’m the one who’s fritzed out.”

Dooley agreed. She said she was looking forward to the end of election season when she could end her 20-hour workdays and attend her sons’ soccer and football games.

“There’s no magic, no glamour,” she said. “Pure and simple, what I do is being able to coordinate details.”

As for the parties, she said, “I like them when they’re over.”