Jackson, Strickland Offer a Study in Contrasts

It’s a cold Sunday evening in November, and as Hannah-Beth Jackson rolls in from the airport, she glances at the dazzling light on the Capitol dome, then across the street to the Hyatt Regency Hotel.

“They may have to go union at the Hyatt,” the driver of Jackson’s government sedan tells her. “The Democrats don’t go there. And now the Democrats are taking over.”

A Democrat, Jackson doesn’t stop until she reaches the Radisson--a union hotel-- 10 minutes away.

Tony Strickland, a Republican, flies in the next morning. He checks into the Hyatt.

“It’s very convenient,” he says. “And it’s where the Republican Caucus arranged for us to stay.”

A contrast in styles and perspective, Jackson and Strickland are Ventura County’s contribution to the Assembly Class of 1998. They have arrived in Sacramento for their first extended stay since surviving costly and contentious races in the Nov. 3 election.

They are here for three days of schooling on how to help run the nation’s largest state government, and a fourth day of picking the right people to get their offices up and running when they are sworn in Dec. 7.

Among the 27 Assembly newcomers, Jackson and Strickland stand out from the rest.

At 6 feet, 5 inches and 260 pounds, Strickland is a head taller than most of his colleagues. At 28, he is also the youngest. He is one of just a few new members who has worked in the Capitol--”The Building,” as veterans call it. And the former small college basketball star may be the most amiable of the freshman lawmakers.

Just a day into the Assembly Rules Committee orientation classes, as new members gather for lunch, the boyish Strickland greets Democrat Herb Wesson, a man old enough to be his father, with a bear hug.

“Sometimes you just see somebody and you know you’re going to like them,” said Wesson, the former chief of staff for Los Angeles County Supervisor Yvonne Brathwaite Burke. “That’s what happened with him and me. I truly believe we’re going to be buds.”

In this town, veteran lawmakers say, likability can be as important as academic brilliance or speech-making eloquence.

Jackson, 48, is striking not because of her size or demeanor--she is small and lawyerly precise. While Strickland sometimes stumbles over a word, she nails each one with the same authority as the tennis serve she used as a New England junior champion.

For more than two decades, attorney Jackson has sat on state commissions on child support, family equity and the status of women, and is exceedingly organized.

“She impresses me as someone who’s serious about making public policy,” said another first-term Democrat, Darrell Steinberg, a Sacramento lawyer and city councilman. “I just felt a connection with her right away because she’s so bright and has so much energy.”

Even before they take office, Jackson and Strickland are being eyed by the powerful in each party as potential leaders. Under term limits, no Assembly member can serve more than six years, so first-termers who work hard and well can distinguish themselves quickly.

For instance, the House’s second-ranking Democrat, Rules Committee Chairman Robert Hertzberg of Sherman Oaks, is just finishing his first two-year term, as is new Assembly Republican Leader Rod Pacheco of Riverside.

“I think Tony is certainly going to play a leadership role in the Republican Caucus, and he’s going to play that role early on,” Pacheco said. “This stuff is not brain surgery. If you apply yourself and have a modicum of intelligence, you can figure this out pretty quick.”

Jackson Rode Backing of Assembly Speaker

Assembly Speaker Antonio Villaraigosa backed Jackson with party money as Jackson spent nearly $1 million to defeat B-movie actor Chris Mitchum and take the 35th District seat back from Republicans. And Villaraigosa foresees a big return on that investment.

“Are you kidding, I love her,” said Villaraigosa, a 45-year-old from Los Angeles who has been a lawmaker himself for only four years. “I spent time with her on the campaign. And she’s very, very articulate and very strong on issues. I can tell you Hannah-Beth is going to be a rising star in the Legislature.”

Villaraigosa controls most appointments in the Assembly, and he said Jackson is sure to get top posts, including jobs on committees of her expertise--law, education, family issues and the environment.

But reaching out early for Republican cooperation, Villaraigosa also praised Strickland, who sat at his left elbow for a dinner with new Assembly members at a popular Sacramento steak house Tuesday evening.

“It was the first time I’d met him, but I was impressed,” Villaraigosa said. “He’s mature, he’s smart and he’s very likable. He has respect for the institution of this House.”

Just how wide a swath either cuts is partly a function of whose party holds power this session. And Jackson comes to the Capitol as a member of the dominant party.

Democrats not only control the Assembly 48 to 32, but the Senate 25 to 15. And with Gray Davis as governor, they no longer face a frustrating September of gubernatorial vetoes.

Without doubt, Jackson will take a high-profile role on major legislation that is sure to pass, Democratic leaders say. Her own initiatives--especially those that benefit her district in Ventura and Santa Barbara counties--will be backed just as vigorously to firm up support at home.

Strickland, on the other hand, must make a name for himself as a member of the opposition. Republican leverage is limited this session to budget and tax measures that require a two-thirds vote to pass. In the Assembly, Democrats are six votes short of that super-majority.

Strickland could also impress by being creative in finding bills to sponsor that would gain wide popular support--much the way Jackson’s Republican predecessor, Brooks Firestone, gained recognition for initiatives in education, including a curb on bilingual instruction.

As Assembly leaders take their measure of Jackson and Strickland, the two new lawmakers are evaluating the strengths and weaknesses of the other--and discussing how they can work together for the good of Ventura County.

So far, that bipartisan local agenda is only one item long: They have pledged to push for speedy establishment of Cal State Channel Islands as a full, free-standing campus.

Both say they like the other, even though their positions on hot-button issues could hardly be more different. She favors gun control, he doesn’t. She favors abortion rights for women, he doesn’t. She favors HMO reform that includes the right to sue health maintenance organizations. He doesn’t. She favors enhanced spending on public schools, while he says parents should be free to transfer student vouchers to private schools.

“Ninety percent of this up here is about working with other people,” Strickland said. “I know Hannah-Beth is in this to make a better California. We may not agree, but we respect each other.”

Jackson is more detailed in her analysis of Strickland. Given his positions on issues, she had suspected he would be more single-mindedly zealous in support of them.

“But my observation of Tony is that he doesn’t come from a negative place,” she said. “He’s not an angry guy. He’s not a mean-spirited guy. He’s dispassionate. These are his positions, but it’s nothing personal. It’s just the way he sees the world, and I’m glad he’s in the minority.”

New Crop Replacing Career Politicians

Ventura County’s political opposites are among the citizen-legislators replacing the career politicians who once thrived under Assembly bosses such as Jesse Unruh and Willie Brown. Since term limits passed in 1990, all incumbents have cycled out of the Assembly or been defeated.

This newest crop reflects the makeup of the Assembly overall--16 of the freshmen are Democrats and 11 are Republicans; 19 are men and eight are women.

Many are young--several nearly as youthful as Strickland. But none as senior as 64-year-old Robert Pacheco, a Bay Area lawyer and city councilman.

Most have local government experience. Several are lawyers. One is a developer, and two are real estate brokers. Two more are professors of psychology. One is a teacher, another a retired instructor. Several own businesses, large and small.

They have come to Sacramento to prepare for a task they find both thrilling and daunting. They have come to absorb the Capitol’s dizzying protocols, to begin hiring staff members and to jockey for good assignments and spacious offices.

Following Villaraigosa’s bipartisan theme, Democrats and Republicans are trained together. As they take their seats the first morning in an Assembly hearing room, Jackson and Strickland sit side by side.

“Right now I feel like a freshman in high school,” says Jackson, stylish in a green suit with gold buttons and a white silk blouse.

“It’s very humbling to know you’re voting for 400,000 people,” says Strickland, dressed in a black suit, white shirt and tie.

Rules Committee boss Hertzberg has assembled six thick volumes of information for their attention--a level of preparation said to be rare in state government. The newcomers study budget-writing, and a strict set of rules banning gifts and financial conflicts of interest. They ponder the work of major committees.

Media specialists tell them how to handle reporters: “Always focus on your message, and never lie,” says Richard Zeiger, a veteran journalist and now Assembly communications director.

State Sen. Jack O’Connell, a former Oxnard teacher and Assembly leader, emphasizes the importance of happy constituents. To keep in touch, he advises them to use his trademark technique of setting up a street corner card table on weekends.

They are trained on computers they will use as legislators, including laptops that allow them to rewrite bills on the spot. Jackson is not yet keen on the mysteries of the Web, but she has promised her 14-year-old daughter, Jennie, she will learn to send e-mail to her.

Newcomers Focus on Nuts and Bolts

They take the Assembly floor beneath huge gilded chandeliers, sitting for the first time at mahogany desks bearing their names. They find electronic keys in locked drawers that allow them to cast their first votes.

“I get chills down here, I really do,” Strickland says. The first time he was there, as a 19-year-old supporting his mentor, Assemblyman Tom McClintock (R-Northridge), he stayed for 17 straight hours of session-closing debate. “I got to see Willie Brown’s little antics and how Sacramento really works.”

But mostly the newcomers focus on the nuts and bolts--both in the formal sessions and outside of them.

Strickland drops into the office of his 37th District predecessor, Republican Assemblyman Nao Takasugi.

By Capitol standards, it is big, with a large private office and conference table for the lawmaker and private cubicles for two aides. Strickland will move in temporarily after the swearing in--just as Jackson will take over the comfortable office of Firestone.

But as first-termers, neither is likely to stay in such relative opulence. Indeed, right down the hall from Takasugi’s office is the smallest in the Capitol, a 12-by-22-foot cubbyhole where an out-of-favor lawmaker and his top aide sit at desks so close they can touch elbows.

They learn the importance of hiring the right staff members the first time around while staying within an annual budget of $242,000 for all office expenses. And they maneuver for leadership duties that bring extra dollars for extra staff.

Jackson recounts a story told by Speaker Pro Tem Sheila Kuehl (D-Santa Monica), an old friend who encouraged her to run and is now one of her mentors. During her orientation in 1994, Kuehl asked Willie Brown the secret of hiring a good staff. “He said, ‘If you have to choose between hiring six cheap staffers or two expensive ones, hire the expensive ones,’ ” Kuehl said.

But Jackson has a problem. Experienced Democratic talent is at a premium because the party was so dominant in the fall elections. Gov.-elect Davis alone has 3,000 patronage jobs he can fill with loyalists. Conversely, Strickland can pick from a flood of senior legislative advisors because their old bosses lost.

“I’m relieved,” Jackson says as she settles over a salad in the Assembly cafeteria at lunch. “Nobody else has any staff either.”

But Strickland is making progress. His campaign consultant, Joe Giardiello, will be his chief of staff. The best man at Strickland’s wedding last year, Giardiello lived at Strickland’s Thousand Oaks home throughout the campaign.

By Thursday, Strickland has hired his senior staff--selecting Jose Angeles, a top aide to former Speaker Curt Pringle, and Erika Cuneo, a veteran of Firestone’s Capitol office.

Jackson, meanwhile, interviews six job candidates, referrals from Kuehl and Democratic state Sen. Debra Bowen of Torrance. She meets with them on Thursday, likes two a lot, but has hired nobody by the weekend.

Just as important as hiring good staff members is finding a good place to sleep in Sacramento during the Monday-through-Thursday legislative workweek.

Neither Jackson nor Strickland plans to move their families to Sacramento.

Jackson’s husband, retired Ventura attorney George Eskin, will oversee the couple’s Santa Barbara house. But he says he will forgo the Assembly spouses’ training next month, a session that delves into everything from ethical conflicts to domestic strains.

Strickland’s wife, Audra, 24, a Ventura science and history teacher, will keep up the couple’s Thousand Oaks house. She is already savvy to the ways of Sacramento, having worked for former Speaker Pringle. The Stricklands met, in fact, at the state Republican Convention in 1996 and married at the Richard Nixon Library last year.

Strickland may rent a Sacramento apartment with chief of staff Giardiello.

Jackson arrived in Sacramento last week with no clue of what she would do for shelter. But she soon found an old friend with a $900-a-month, two-bedroom condo for rent.

So as Strickland tucked into an Assembly lounge lunch on Tuesday, Jackson and a potential roommate, Assemblywoman-elect Gloria Romero, jumped in a car and drove 20 blocks to look the place over.

It was nothing fancy, hardly the digs an outsider might imagine for a state lawmaker making $99,000 a year and collecting $108 a day extra for room and board. But the neighborhood is safe, and it’s just four minutes driving time from the Capitol.

“I’m not really picky,” Jackson says. “This looks ample.” But she had a question: “Is there a bike path, and is there a place to get my mocha in the morning?”

Condo owner Helyne Meshar says there are two places.

Jackson is sold. But there is a complication. Meshar, a registered lobbyist for agencies that deal with problems such as alcohol abuse, must declare their financial contract to state watchdogs. And Jackson knows from her ethics training that the rent must be at the market rate.

“She’s a friend for 20 years, but now she’s got to fill out all these forms,” Jackson said. “No breaks allowed.”

After three long days, Jackson and Strickland left the Capitol Thursday, vowing to follow the same guiding principle.

“The best thing we learned is to get along with people from the other side of the aisle--not to demonize them,” Strickland said

“I disagree with Tony on almost everything,” Jackson said. “But right now there’s a tremendous emphasis on civility. We think we can work together.

“But check back in six months,” she added. “We’ll all see how naive we really were.”

About This Series

“County Report: The Making of a Legislator” is a three-part series describing the education and maturation of Ventura County’s two new legislators. This installment follows new members of the Assembly Hannah-Beth Jackson and Tony Strickland as they arrive in Sacramento and try to find a place to live and a role to play in the halls of power.