Shadows Cast Some Light on Workings of the State Capitol

It’s called the Shadow Program, and its premise is simple: Any citizen who spends a day following a state assemblyman around will come away with a better understanding of the baffling inner workings of the Legislature.

So far Assemblyman Lloyd D. Connelly (D-Sacramento), the program’s creator and lone practitioner, has squired about 800 citizens around the capital--including a Presbyterian minister who later became his wife.

The Shadows, as they are called, sit in on almost all of Connelly’s meetings whether they be with lobbyists, other legislators or constituents. They attend committee hearings, listen in on political strategy sessions, whether they occur in the office or a Capitol hallway, and see some of the infighting between Democrats and Republicans, bureaucrats and the Legislature.

But not all is candor. The Democratic caucus meetings Connelly attends are private, no Shadows allowed, but then neither is anyone else, not even aides. And about once or twice a month, someone will ask that a Shadow be excluded elsewhere. Most recently this happened, Connelly said, when a lobbyist who was angry at his client felt it best that no one else hear him castigate his client as “an idiot.”

As for the lobbyists themselves, even those who say the Shadows do not bother them, admit they sometimes hold back in their presence, particularly when talk turns to specific votes by specific legislators.

“In general lobbying, talking about the substance of issues, there’s no problem,” said Eric R. Newman, lobbyist for a number of clients. “But if it’s a meeting of a political nature, then I probably wouldn’t be as candid.”

Yet, despite such caution, former Shadows say there is still plenty of evidence of political arm-wrestling.

“It opened up my understanding greatly,” said Morgan Witherspoon, a 52-year-old bus driver who was a Shadow a year ago. “I didn’t know the impact of lobbyists was that great. You read so much about them in the newspaper, but to see them at work and their impact as they line up support for a measure . . . it was eye-opening.”

Even though the popular program is 5 years old, none of the other members of the Senate or Assembly have copied it. Some say that is because lawmakers are uncomfortable with such scrutiny. And some lawmakers say it is an inefficient use of their time. Most legislators have an easy out--the distance between the Capitol and their home districts is too great to accommodate their constituents.

Need ‘Right Personality’

Said one senior Senate staff aide, who asked not be identified, “You have to have the right personality to do it. Connelly has it, most of the others don’t.”

An attorney, Connelly is an unpretentious, liberal lawmaker, whose baggy corduroy pants and rumpled sports jackets stand out among the tailored suits worn by many colleagues. He is acknowledged as a hard worker who has staked out legislative territory dealing with consumer, toxic, aging and insurance issues. He keeps a 10-speed bicycle in his office.

He did not create the program as much as it simply evolved. A week after he was elected in November, 1982, he was at a community event and several people asked if they could spend a day with him. Connelly agreed. Soon word of the program spread, and Connelly found himself overwhelmed. There is now a yearlong waiting list. He has cut back the Shadows from four to two days a week, and he now only takes people from his 6th Assembly District.

The waiting list is so long, he has stopped mentioning the program at public forums.

The program has touched such a public chord, that Connelly believes that citizens would come long distances to participate, if their legislators offered it.

Cross-Section of People

The Shadows reflect a cross-section of people. There are as many Democrats as Republicans. There have been police officers and teachers, small business people and retirees. His office discourages participation by high school students. The program has provided Connelly with one personal dividend: his wife, Jean. She was a Shadow in January, 1986.

“Somewhere along the way something just clicked, and he asked me out for a drink afterward,” Jean recalled. “We talked until 11 p.m. I think I have the record for the longest day as a Shadow.” They married about a year later.

In the beginning, other legislators, lobbyists and aides were uncomfortable with the Shadows.

“I must say that the first couple of months or so it was you’d find yourself tempering your language a little bit,” Connelly said. “But after a while you just relaxed. My thought is during the course of a day they are undoubtedly going to see some warts. You can’t spend 8 to 10 hours with someone and not see warts. The idea is by the end of the day they will have seen the whole of the place, the balance.”

The shadows, he said, get a better idea of how to evaluate their legislators.

“There’s this initial expectation the public has that they want 90% or 95% agreement on the voting record of their legislator, and the truth is you can’t (have that) given the number of votes and differences on issues,” Connelly said. “A better criteria is a basic agreement on the issues and calling them straight and working hard. I think they (Shadows) get that sense.”

First Such Exposure

For the vast majority of Shadows, like Terry Vendlinski, it is the first time they have come face to face with an institution they have only read about in newspapers or seen on television.

“I was filled with curiosity,” said the 30-year-old Republican, who heads a youth program for a local Catholic parish. Vendlinski said he expected to see a “slice of life” of California’s Capitol and was not disappointed.

Among other things, he took in a press conference on the evils of the Rancho Seco nuclear power plant outside Sacramento, watched a bewildering and raucous Assembly debate from a seat on the chamber floor and sat quietly in Connelly’s office listening to a visiting legislative aide discuss the merits of holding an antagonist’s bill “hostage.”

Connelly’s schedule was so hectic that there was little time for real conversation between Vendlinski and the lawmaker. They talked quickly in the elevator or walking down the hallway, almost always it seemed while on the way to someplace else, a floor session, a committee hearing, an office meeting.

On this particular day, the Shadow heard Connelly describe a local city council member as “crazy” because she wanted the assemblyman to use some political muscle against Sen. John Doolittle (R-Rocklin) over the issue of creating a new air pollution control district in Sacramento County.

He also listened while state Auditor General Thomas W. Hayes made an office visit to describe the kind of investigation his office would pursue over alleged irregularities in the awarding of a state advertising contract that some of his constituents had complained about.

Dukakis Campaign Call

Then there was a phone call from a Michael S. Dukakis campaign aide. Where, the Dukakis aide wanted to know, was there a good “environmental backdrop” from which Dukakis could outline his environmental policies? Connelly did not hesitate. “The American River. . . . He can say how important it is to keep it clean.”

The Assembly floor session was boisterous, as debate ensued over lengthening prison terms for people convicted of drive-by shootings. Connelly attempted to provide some perspective for Vendlinski, sitting just behind him in the first row of press seats, describing the issue in the broader context of a political battle being waged by the Democratic dissident “Gang of Five.”

The floor action heated up, but it was nothing compared to what happened next. A new and unexpected subject dear to legislators--restrictions on their use of campaign funds--hit the Assembly floor. The arguing was passionate. Pugnacious Richard E. Floyd (D-Hawthorne) stood and called Richard L. Mountjoy (R-Monrovia) an “idiot” and a “liar.”

Vendlinski was vexed. Connelly returned and reassured him that “the talent of the Legislature isn’t always shown in the floor debate.”

A day later, having had time to think about his experience, Vendlinski said, “I think I learned a lot.” His impressions were many, he said, but at the moment one stood out: “I’m impressed we have any laws in the state . . . there are so many obstacles that in get in the way.”