Statehouse Turns Attention to 33rd Senate Race : Assemblyman Grisham Wants to Ride Conservative Label to Upper Chamber

One wall in Assemblyman Wayne Grisham’s Capitol office is lined with photographs of Santa Catalina Island, where he owns a vacation home.

Lately, Grisham says, he has had precious little time for relaxing on Catalina or for another favorite pastime--playing golf--because he is engaged in a bitter state Senate election campaign.

By now, Grisham, 64, had anticipated the campaign would be over. There had been some predictions that he could win the March 17 primary outright. But he not only failed to win a majority of the votes necessary to avoid a runoff, he actually trailed Democrat Cecil N. Green.

As a result, Grisham has been spending most weekdays here and shuttling to his Norwalk condominium on weekends to walk precincts or tap campaign contributors.

It is not the first time he has had to rebound from a setback. After losing his seat in Congress in 1982, Grisham managed a 1984 comeback by moving to Norwalk--triggering charges that he was a carpetbagger--and winning the Assembly seat against a well-financed Democrat.

But after coasting to reelection to his 63rd Assembly District seat just six months ago, Grisham finds himself in the neck-and-neck 33rd Senate District race seeking to revive his political fortunes.

Grisham, whose tanned face is framed by a receding line of white hair, seems to relish his role as a legislator. Unlike some of his more reticent colleagues, Grisham hangs his Assembly vanity license plate on his state-leased, 1987 Oldsmobile 98. Around the capital, he is known as a natty dresser in blazers, striped ties, colored shirts and saddle shoes. He smiles, shakes plenty of hands, answers his own office telephone and bewilders visitors by pacing during meetings--a habit he picked up from his father.

However, Grisham seems less comfortable with the nuts and bolts of legislation. And although the former congressman is regarded as more independent than his less-experienced and younger colleagues, he seldom speaks during floor debates or takes the lead on major issues.

Grisham says he sees his role as a “weather vane” reflecting his district. “I don’t need all the statewide publicity. I’m not going to run for a statewide office . . .” nor am I anxious to get back to Congress.

Nonetheless, the special election has focused statewide attention on Grisham. The race is viewed by Republicans as a first step toward capturing control of the state Senate. Republicans estimate that in the runoff election they expect to pump $750,000 into Grisham’s candidacy, which has won a major boost from appearances by Gov. George Deukmejian and drawn an endorsement from President Reagan.

Grisham not only has to run a campaign in Southeast Los Angeles County; he also has to think about the campaign in Sacramento, seeking to avoid mistakes which could provide Green with ammunition. One way has been for Grisham to side with Assembly Democrats on several highly charged issues and against the Deukmejian administration.

For instance, last month Grisham was among three Republicans who joined 43 Democrats to reject Deukmejian’s proposed $300-million budget cut in the Medi-Cal program. Further, Grisham was among seven GOP lawmakers to side with 43 Democrats to save the state’s $8-million worker safety program (Cal/OSHA), which the governor has proposed phasing out.

Grisham, who was regarded in Washington as a party loyalist, acknowledges that he has voted with the Democrats. He explains that his actions are in response to constituents’ requests and demonstrate that, unlike many of his conservative colleagues, he supports some government spending programs. “I think a person has to be pretty hard-hearted not to vote for Cal/OSHA,” Grisham said.

Former Sen. Paul Carpenter, who helped guide Green into the race, assails Grisham as “lazy” and says that Grisham “doesn’t spend a lot of time in committees or working the district.”

Sexist Charge Denied

A pre-primary mailer, which Carpenter helped pay for, repeated an accusation by a former Grisham secretary that Grisham fired her after she turned down his sexual advances. Grisham has denied that charge, but he says the mailer “just about cost us the election.”

To counteract the attack, the Grisham campaign has sent out an unusual piece of campaign literature: a letter to voters from Millie Grisham, the assemblyman’s wife of 42 years.

The letter, in script and on cream-colored stationery designed by the campaign staff, was sent to 86,000 targeted voters along with a photo of the smiling couple and, to the surprise of voters, their home telephone number. Grisham figures that his wife has received at least 300 calls, many merely seeking to verify that it was indeed his home number.

“The politicians opposing Wayne said some very cruel things about his personal conduct--things that hurt Wayne and me terribly,” the letter says. “Honestly, at one point, Wayne and I talked about whether public service was really worth the effort.” But, Millie Grisham vowed, the couple “wouldn’t be scared away by people who put their ambitions ahead of the truth and common decency.”

Reviews Are Mixed

Away from the campaign, reviews on Grisham’s legislative performance are mixed. Assemblyman Frank Hill (R-Whittier), who served on Grisham’s congressional staff, defends his former boss as an independent lawmaker who “probably works his district harder than any five incumbents.”

But others--mostly off the record--say that Grisham is inattentive to detail. The assemblyman minimizes the criticism but also acknowledges that he has made mistakes.

One miscalculation centers on his votes at committee hearings. In the last two-year session, Grisham ranked among Assembly members who most often failed to cast votes in committees. According to Legi-Tech, a computerized information service, Grisham missed 26% of his committee votes in the 1985-86 session.

Grisham says that he usually attended the hearings, but as a courtesy to colleagues would not vote on bills that he actually opposed to make the outcome appear close. Grisham says he is discontinuing that practice.

“I think I probably made a mistake when I would not vote,” Grisham said. “I was doing it to be kind to some of the (bill) authors.”

Downey Bill Shelved

Last month, Grisham found himself in another potentially embarrassing miscalculation with a bill which critics argued was designed to limit the scope of a court ruling in a controversial Downey redevelopment case. Grisham said he introduced the measure at the request of the Downey Chamber of Commerce. But he had failed to consult with Downey Citizens Against Redevelopment Excesses (Downey CAREs), which had won the redevelopment case in 1986. When the organization protested that citizen input would be curtailed by the bill, Grisham shelved the measure.

Grisham, though, has had his share of legislative successes. Last year he sponsored a bill as a result of an appeal by a constituent whose abused 5-year-old granddaughter had been placed in a foster home, even though the grandmother wanted custody. Initially, the bill focused on helping grandparents facing similar circumstances, but it was amended to give relatives, not just grandparents, preference for custody in child abandonment and abuse cases. The measure was signed into law last September.

He also has assisted in passing legislation to provide funds for public works projects--such as a Downey swimming pool and freeway anti-noise barriers. Don Davis, Downey city manager, said Grisham was “very instrumental” in helping the city get a grant for the pool, which is scheduled to open in June, 1988.

Grisham generally wins lower ratings from labor-oriented groups than business associations. For instance, the California Teachers Assn. last year handed Grisham a “D” because he voted with them only 66% of the time on what they consider crucial education bills. On the other hand, the California Chamber of Commerce said he voted with them on 17 out of 18 selected business-oriented measures.

Asks Penetrating Questions

Several lobbyists, who asked to speak without attribution, say Grisham asks “penetrating” questions on bills, but is not a major player in the Legislature, in part because he does not have a leadership position within the Assembly Republican Caucus.

A legislative staffer, who also asked for anonymity, offered another explanation. The staffer said that at hearings Grisham was attentive but “liked it if we didn’t cut into his golf time.”

In fact, Grisham says other legislators have chided him about his hobby. After the primary, Dale Hardeman, Grisham’s campaign manager, said “I think you’ll find he won’t be playing much golf in the next eight weeks.”

Grisham, a 23-handicapper, acknowledges that he has put away his clubs until after the election. He suggested that “it’s an image . . . that if you have nothing better to do you go out and play golf. I say golf to me is not only the exercise but it’s very therapeutic. It’s very good for me . . . I forget about everything except hitting that dumb ball.”

Schooled in Long Beach

Grisham was born in Colorado and moved to Long Beach as an infant. He attended schools in Long Beach and went to Long Beach City College before World War II. Grisham, who was a lieutenant in the Army Air Corps, described how he was shot down while strafing a Nazi airfield north of Munich and crash-landed into a lake.

Grisham suffered head wounds and a broken back. He was taken to a German hospital, where he was held captive for six days until U.S. troops captured the hospital.

Returning home, Grisham received a bachelor’s degree in economics from Whittier College. Afterward, he spent two years teaching elementary school in Long Beach. But Grisham says he was lured into real estate by the prospect of a higher income.

Grisham eventually formed his own real estate company and moved to La Mirada, where he served on the City Council for about eight years. Grisham has amassed large real estate holdings in southeast Los Angeles County and now lives in the Heritage Park condominium complex.

Grisham was elected to Congress in 1978. According to the Almanac of American Politics, Grisham “seemed to approach matters as a traditional small-town conservative would, mistrustful of government because of its practical effects . . . .

Voted for Military Draft

The almanac reported that Grisham voted for draft registration and against loan guarantees to bail out Chrysler. Grisham was given low ratings by liberal groups like the Americans for Democratic Action and scored high ratings with such conservative groups as the Americans for Constitutional Action.

After two terms in Congress, Grisham’s district was reapportioned into another district, which stretched across the San Gabriel Valley. Grisham was forced to run in the 1982 Republican primary against another incumbent, Rep. David Dreier (R-La Verne). He lost to Dreier, who reported raising five times more than Grisham in campaign contributions.

Grisham describes the defeat as one of the toughest moments in his life--tougher than his wartime experiences.

After the loss, President Reagan appointed Grisham as director of the Peace Corps in Kenya, where his job was to familiarize volunteers with the country, oversee their work and determine the needs of the Kenyan government for future projects.

But two officials who served in the Peace Corps with Grisham say that he was not equipped to handle the job because he was unfamiliar with Kenya and he had no experience in an overseer’s position. The officials asked not to be identified because the Peace Corps does not like employees to criticize programs in public.

Job Lasted 9 Months

In response, Grisham acknowledged his lack of background on Kenya. “If somebody said Wayne didn’t know anything about the Peace Corps when he got over there they certainly were right . . . (but) I knew how to be an executive.”

However, after nine months Grisham, with the help of Assemblyman Hill, saw an opportunity for a political comeback by running for the Assembly seat of Bruce Young, who was retiring in 1984.

Now, Grisham is seeking to move up to the state Senate--which carries more prestige because there are only 40 members, instead of 80 in the Assembly, and terms are for four years, instead of two. But Grisham surprisingly says he does not know much about the inner workings of the Senate, which is known for its clubby atmosphere.

Grisham says, “it seems to me like you’re going to be more influential because there’s 40 of you . . . I want to do things. I’m a do-gooder, a conservative do-gooder.”