Ross Johnson Walks Both Sides of Party Line

‘I really believe that there’s too much around here of treating philosophical opponents as two-dimensional cartoon characters. I try not to do that.’

--Ross Johnson

There is an image of Assemblyman Ross Johnson (R-La Habra) that many in his district who know him as a reserved, serious man might find hard to imagine.

It involves country-western songs, two popular night spots in Sacramento and the late Jesse Unruh, longtime state treasurer and powerful Democrat. In the Legislature’s recent eulogy to Unruh, Johnson described it like this:

“Many’s the night that Jesse and I have, in a great crowd in the Torch Club or Eilish’s, begun to sing an old song.

“I recall the time he very generously said he would endorse me in my first reelection effort and, in the spirit of the moment, maybe caught up in the root beers we were sharing, or whatever, I told him I would be pleased to endorse him in his next reelection. He said, ‘Ross, you don’t want to do that. That’s really not going to play all that well in Orange County.’ ”

Johnson’s friendship with Unruh illustrates a characteristic that many consider to be one of his stronger assets as a legislator--his ability to cross party lines and to form alliances on both sides of the aisle.

But Johnson also is something of a loner. He is known for taking on issues that are not necessarily popular, even with his own party, and he is about to do it again this fall. For the second time, Johnson is sponsoring a controversial initiative on campaign finance reform, having failed repeatedly to get his proposals through the Legislature.

In 1984, Johnson succeeded in getting on the ballot Proposition 40, which would have strictly limited campaign contributions and would have stopped transfers of campaign funds between candidates. But Proposition 40, which included a controversial public financing provision, went down in what Johnson called “ignominious defeat” after being opposed by “virtually every organization in the state.”

Defeated in the same election was another initiative sponsored by Johnson that would have dramatically slashed welfare and Medi-Cal aid to 2.7 million Californians.

This fall, Johnson has joined Sen. Quentin L. Kopp (Ind.-San Francisco) and Sen. Joseph B. Montoya (D-Whittier) to launch a signature-gathering effort for another ballot measure calling for campaign finance reform.

State Sen. John Seymour (R-Anaheim) said of Johnson: “Once he has made his mind up on a particular issue, he doggedly pursues it.”

In his early days in Sacramento, Johnson, now 48, fit in well with a group of young Republican assemblymen known as the “cavemen,” an ultraconservative group with a reputation for refusing to work with the Democrat-controlled Assembly.

But Johnson since has taken a somewhat different path, having decided that it might be a long wait before Republicans are in power in the Legislature and that there was much to be done in the meantime.

“There are some ideologues who will await the coming of a Republican majority so fervently that they cannot participate in governance until they have achieved that majority,” said former Assemblyman Ron Cordova (R-Newport Beach), a longtime friend of Johnson’s. “Ross is not amongst those ideologues.”

“He’s dedicated and he’s determined, but he’s also pragmatic,” said longtime aide Phil Miller. “You do as good as you can, but you can’t just stop everything and be completely unmovable on everything.”

Johnson explained that while he has certain philosophical principles that are important to him, legislators “are not philosopher princes. We are people who have to deal with the real world.”

In addition to his work for campaign finance reform, Johnson co-authored legislation to strengthen state laws against secret meetings of government, in part to prevent actions such as the Los Angeles City Council’s 1985 vote granting themselves a pay raise without discussion or public notice. He crusaded successfully to abolish the state Board of Dry Cleaning and Fabric Care, an agency he termed the state’s most useless bureaucracy. And on Sunday, the governor signed into law Johnson’s bill funding a fully staffed Caltrans district office in Orange County.

Finding a Niche

Johnson also has found a niche for himself as a sponsor of tax and criminal justice legislation. Often, Orange County calls upon him to carry its bills because, as county lobbyist Dennis Carpenter explained, Johnson has developed an expertise in certain areas and has some clout in the Legislature. Johnson also is the only lawyer in the Orange County delegation in Sacramento, and thus has some familiarity with court-related issues.

As he enters his 10th year in office, Johnson takes with him a reputation as a persistent, hard-working legislator known for being able to articulate the conservative stand in floor debates. Within his own GOP caucus, he is admired for his ability to get to the heart of an issue.

“During discussions, he looks like he may not be as concerned about the issue as a lot of people are,” said Assemblywoman Marian LaFollette (R-Northridge). “But then, at the end of the debate, he sums up all the arguments and makes the point so clearly.”

He also is viewed as somewhat unpredictable, however.

Mary Bergan, a lobbyist for of the American Federation of Teachers, put it this way: “One day he seems like the Neanderthal of all Neanderthals, and the next day he’s a reasonable person.”

Popping Off

Johnson also has a reputation for popping off. Nearly everyone who was asked recently about him mentioned the times his temper appeared to get the better of him.

Recently, for example, Johnson chastised a fellow member of a committee.

“If there’s a member of this committee who hasn’t thoroughly been exposed to all the conceivable arguments from all the conceivable interests from every point of view, then they’ve been asleep for the last eight years,” Johnson fumed. “Anyone who says they don’t understand that issue by now really ought to be ashamed of himself--really doesn’t belong here.”

Johnson insists that while he “makes points forcefully,” people rarely see him really angry.

Nevertheless, the reputation has stuck, and one of the reasons is a legendary story involving Johnson and former Assemblyman Louis J. Papan (D-Millbrae), who also was known for his feistiness. When Papan was chairman of the powerful Assembly Rules Committee, he scolded Republicans for a Fourth of July celebration involving blender-mixed drinks in a committee room off the Assembly floor during a budget deadlock.

‘A Pigpen’

Papan said recently that the Republicans were making a “pigpen” out of the Rules Committee room and “then tried to hide it.” He said his remarks that some members were not sober were not directed against Johnson, “but he picked up on it.”

In any case, Johnson was quoted as saying to Papan, “I’ll be sober in the morning, and you’ll still be an asshole.” Johnson said recently that he was misquoted. He said he actually said, “I’m not drunk, but if I were, I’d be sober in the morning.

“I was stone cold sober. And Lou Papan was a bully.”

Sen. Marian Bergeson (R-Newport Beach) said that while Johnson is “ticked off easily,” he also has an ability to get along with both parties for causes he believes in.

“He is a person who does a lot of soul-searching,” Bergeson said.

Using the System

Bergeson said that when she needs help in the Assembly’s GOP caucus on legislation, she calls on Johnson because “Ross knows how to use the system. He knows when to be forceful and knows when it’s time for sensitivity.”

Speaker Pro Tem Mike Roos (D-Los Angeles) said Johnson is considered one of the most effective Republicans in the Assembly.

“He has smoothed over a lot of the anger,” Roos said. “He’s polished his intellectual and oratorical skills. And as a consequence, he’s become intriguing from a Democratic point of view. . . . You always believe you have a shot in talking to him about something that’s important to you.”

Johnson said he tries to look at people as human beings.

“I really believe that there’s too much around here of treating philosophical opponents as two-dimensional cartoon characters,” Johnson said. “I try not to do that.”

No Different

But Johnson insisted he is no different now than when he first arrived in Sacramento. What is different, he said, is that people have gotten to know him better.

Johnson grew up in Orange County as the son of working-class parents and remembers many spirited discussions with his father, a union man and Democrat. Johnson first became involved in politics at age 12 when he walked into the local campaign headquarters for presidential candidate Dwight D. Eisenhower, got himself an “I like Ike” button and offered himself as a volunteer.

His mother, Joyce Johnson of Anaheim, said Johnson “was always dependable. He would look after his younger brothers and sisters and keep out of mischief.” She said that from early childhood, her son “absolutely shone” in government and history.

Johnson was an ironworker to put himself through Cal State Fullerton, taking eight years to get a degree. He worked for five years for GOP Assemblyman Jerry Lewis of San Bernardino, who is now a congressman, and later for then-state Sen. James Whetmore (R-Fullerton). He also ran a campaign for Assembly candidate Marlin McKeever, who won the Republican nomination but lost the general election to Richard Robinson of Garden Grove.

Along the way, Johnson served in the Navy for two years (all of it at El Toro), got married and picked up a law degree from Western State University College of Law in Fullerton. He and his wife, Diane, have two daughters, Susan, 17, and Molly, 15.

Political Hopes

Johnson had long intended to run for office. In 1978, he spotted an opportunity when Rep. William E. Dannemeyer (R-Fullerton) left the Assembly to run for Congress. Although Johnson knew that the competition for an open seat would be stiff, he knew that “no one in that race was going to have a lock on it.”

Johnson said he explained the situation to his wife one day when they were having lunch in the park. But he told her he did not know how he would raise the $40,000 or more needed to run a campaign.

“She said, ‘I know how we could do it,’ ” Johnson said. The couple sold their home.

In the primary, running against four candidates, Johnson did two things that probably won him the Republican nomination. The first was that he “knocked on thousands of doors,” asking people to vote for him. The second was that he kept a low profile in the news media, never putting out a press release or even officially announcing his candidacy, while preparing for a last-minute mail blitz.

“He did a blind-side campaign. Not a dirty campaign, but a classic, hold-it-off-to-the-last-minute campaign and then let it off with all you have,” said a longtime political friend.

‘Sandbagged Them’

“He sandbagged them all by not letting them know he had some money in the bank,” Rep. Jerry Lewis said.

In his personal life, Johnson is not known as a gregarious man. If anything, he is “painfully shy sometimes,” Miller said.

“He’s gotten better about that, but it’s still difficult for him to go to unstructured events,” Johnson’s aide added. “He’s not the type to go out and work tables and stuff like that.”

Still, Johnson has done well in his district and at one point was considered a shoo-in if he wanted to run for the seat being vacated by state Sen. John Briggs (R-Fullerton). Johnson thought it over and declined.

“I’ve never regretted not doing it for one minute,” Johnson said last week. “I honestly believe up here the action is in the Assembly. I think the backbone of the Deukmejian Administration today is the knowledge that the Assembly Republicans are going to be there to back his place.”

In the Assembly, Johnson holds seats on the Ways and Means and Government Organization committees and is vice chairman of the Finance and Insurance Committee.

He has played in GOP caucus politics with mixed results.

Lost Post

A few years ago, he lost a prized seat on the powerful Rules Committee when he chose the wrong side in an unsuccessful effort to oust Assembly GOP Caucus Leader Robert W. Naylor, who has since left the Assembly and is state Republican Party chairman.

Naylor said that despite the challenge, he and Johnson became good friends.

“The caveman sobriquet really does not reflect the true Ross Johnson,” Naylor said. “Confrontation is not what he really enjoys. But he will do that if he has to, to get some progress on some issues.”

Earlier in his career, Johnson had helped install Assemblywoman Carol Hallett of Atascadero as head of the GOP caucus, a move that helped get him his start in the lower house. But Johnson has never held the top spot in the caucus, as he wanted.

Johnson moved his family to Sacramento after an accident in which his oldest daughter’s finger was severed and he did not find out until late that night.

“I said, that’s it--whether there’s a political price to pay or not,” he said. “And you know, no one’s ever said a word about it.”

Before his last election, the portly Johnson dropped 60 or 70 pounds, enough weight that he was hardly recognizable to some. But he has gained most of it back, and this fall he is embarking on yet another diet.

“I’ve had problems with my weight all my life,” he said.

Johnson said he picked up his love of country-western music from his father, who was a native of west Texas. Growing up, Johnson said, he would listen to KXLA (now KRLA), 1110 on the dial.

“I enjoyed listening to that music all my life,” Johnson said. “I know the words. Late enough in the evening, I think I can sing them.”