L.A.’s Clout Fractured in Statehouse

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the Los Angeles County delegation was in control of the California Legislature. It certainly looked that way Wednesday when the Legislature opened its new session.

In the Senate, President Pro Tem David Roberti of Los Angeles directed operations from his seat on the right side of the chamber. Across the way, in the Assembly, fellow Angeleno Mike Roos was presiding as Speaker pro tem. Other positions of power were also occupied by members of the Los Angeles delegation, the Legislature’s largest.

The state’s most populous county even provided the house clown, Assemblyman Dick Floyd. He is a round-faced man with a loud voice whose demeanor seems not to fit the solid working-class areas he represents--Carson, Gardena and Hawthorne. Floyd, who has the humor of a warm-up comic at a lodge stag, joked and backslapped his way around the chamber while Roos tried to quiet the house for the opening prayer. “Hi, Rev.,” Floyd shouted as the priest began the prayer.

But the notion that county lawmakers are in charge here is an illusion. The real story is how little power the 45-member delegation has--and why.

The delegation makes up more than a third of the Legislature. It should be able to combine forces and wield considerable clout on issues of importance to the county, such as education, transportation and water. But that’s not the case.

One reason for its weakness was apparent to those at the opening session. The political corruption trial of Sen. Joe Montoya of the San Gabriel Valley, and the federal investigation that preceded it, has implicated leaders of the Los Angeles delegation.

The trial, in the Federal Building just a few blocks from the Capitol, provides a gloomy accompaniment to each day’s legislative proceedings. The day before the Legislature opened, a Montoya assistant who is now a government informant testified that he arranged pay-for-vote deals for Assemblymen Pat Nolan of Glendale and Frank Hill of Whittier.

Nolan was Assembly Republican leader until the scandal forced him to quit that post. A loud, domineering man who acted as if he had all the answers, Nolan, even after he stepped down, had enough power to effectively fight last year for more school appropriations for the suburban Los Angeles areas he represents. Now he spends his time worrying about federal investigators.

Another leader slowly being crippled by the scandal is the San Fernando Valley’s Sen. Alan Robbins, a power when it comes to getting appropriations and transit projects for his area.

These Valley successes constitute just some of the many deals that this legislative juggler has in the air on any given day. In the Montoya trial Tuesday, we got a broad hint of one of them.

The Montoya aide, in his testimony, portrayed Robbins as a price-cutter in the pay-for-vote game. When the aide, wearing a tape recorder, met with Robbins to enlist his support for a bill (part of an FBI sting), Robbins said it would take $40,000 in contributions to various senators for passage. Robbins said he would sponsor it and “wouldn’t charge as much” as then-Sen. Paul Carpenter, who wanted $20,000 for himself, the aide testified.

With testimony like that on the record, Robbins may be spending more time fighting for his political life than for Valley projects.

Another reason for the delegation’s weakness is that it mirrors the diversity of the county. Assemblywomen Marian La Follette and Theresa Hughes, backbenchers usually not in the limelight, illustrate that point.

Hughes’ inner-city district, which stretches through South Los Angeles and the southeast communities of Bell and Cudahy, is home to poor minorities, mostly blacks and Latinos. Only 35% of her constituents are white. La Follette’s 90% white suburban district runs across the San Fernando Valley from Calabasas and Woodland Hills east to Sunland and Tujunga. Household income in La Follette’s district is more than triple that in the area represented by Hughes.

It’s easy to understand how they would disagree on issues such as welfare spending. Similarly, legislators from the San Gabriel Valley and the San Fernando Valley can’t get together on garbage disposal. Overloaded with dumps and suffering from severe well water pollution, the San Gabriel Valley contingent resists plans that would put limits on waste disposal landfill sites in the San Fernando Valley.

Will the Los Angeles County delegation ever be a unified force? Probably not, until calamity throws its members together. For example, if the drought continues the delegation will have to unite to protect the area’s water supply from competing regions of the state. Only then would county power emerge from the current brew of shattered leadership and intense social, economic and regional rivalries.