Bullet, Ballot Turn Widow Into Member of the House

A year before Carolyn McCarthy was sworn in as a member of Congress, she sat in the gallery overlooking the floor “and yelled down at those who were voting against the assault-weapons ban,” she recalls.

And a year later: “I walked in, I looked up to the balcony and said, ‘My God! Here I am.’ It was a scary feeling, but it was a good feeling.”

The freshman lawmaker from New York’s Long Island is what some consider an ideal member of Congress: a citizen lawmaker, an everywoman with more common sense than political savvy, someone who waded into the fray to right what she saw as a terrible wrong.

And for the former nurse and suburban housewife, her new career is providing a path back to normalcy from a horrific family tragedy.

Before “the incident,” McCarthy had only a passing interest in politics. She’d never met a reporter and harbored no ambitions of seeking office at an age when many friends are easing toward retirement.

“The incident” occurred a couple of weeks before Christmas, 1993. On a Long Island Rail Road commuter train, passenger Colin Ferguson inexplicably opened fire with a high-powered pistol. McCarthy’s husband, Dennis, was one of six people slain. Her son, Kevin, was seriously injured.

When her congressman, Dan Frisa, a conservative Republican, later opposed a federal ban on assault weapons, his vote so enraged McCarthy that she ran against him last November. She soundly defeated him.

Doctors said her son would never take another step. But after a remarkable recovery, Kevin, now 29, has returned to his old job, is working on a graduate degree and soon will walk down the aisle with Leslie Nolan, a volunteer in McCarthy’s campaign.

Hollywood sees high drama in “The Carolyn McCarthy Story”; Barbra Streisand’s production company is making a TV movie. A recent book deal was scrapped--McCarthy had no time to work on it.

The 53-year-old congresswoman said a top priority is simply “to stay normal” and in step with her constituents. “You can definitely get wrapped up in this power, ego,” she said of Capitol Hill. “This is a very abnormal life.”

It was weeks before McCarthy realized that members of her staff were canceling plans any time she casually asked if they would care to join her for dinner. Now she insists on pouring her own coffee and making her own photocopies.

McCarthy keeps a small apartment on Capitol Hill and returns to her home in Mineola, N.Y., every weekend. There she makes a point of going to the supermarket, the dry cleaner and other places where she can chat with constituents.

“She really is enjoying it, which is the key,” said Rep. Gary Ackerman, a fellow Long Island Democrat and a mentor.

In Washington, McCarthy is active in education and health care policy. But the anger over gun issues that brought her to the Capitol still energizes her.

She was livid when House Republicans refused to allow a provision on gun safety locks into the recent juvenile crime bill. “You couldn’t talk to me for two days,” she said. “It was a real eye-opener.”

McCarthy, who raised and spent $1 million on her first race, says she will need at least $1 million when she runs for reelection.

Back home, Nassau County GOP leader Joe Mondello said candidates are “lining up” to run against her, but he refused to name them.

“I don’t know why she’s the darling,” Mondello said. “I can understand the empathy, sympathy. But, gee, it’s not Joan of Arc we’re talking about here.”

McCarthy’s district leans Republican and had not sent a Democrat to Congress in years. McCarthy, a lifelong Republican, ran as a Democrat when she was preventedfrom challenging Frisa in the Republican primary.

Now Mondello complains that she’s trying to “eat out of both troughs.” “You can’t be a Republican and a Democrat at the same time,” he said. “I’ve been watching from day one, and at this point, I can tell you I am not that impressed.”

For the most part, McCarthy’s votes have been middle-of-the-road. She describes herself as a fiscal conservative, but she also supports many social programs and believes firmly in abortion rights.

Rep. Wayne Gilchrest (R-Md.), a former high school teacher and house painter who had no political experience when he ran and won a seat in Congress in 1990, urges McCarthy to hold onto her fresh perspective. His advice: “Keep your idealism and be patient.”