Rep. Ben Nighthorse Campbell’s victory in the Colorado Democratic Senate primary last August was partly attributed to a television spot that chronicled his life as an American Indian of humble roots and featured him galloping across the plains on a horse.
The day after the primary, polls gave Campbell a seemingly insurmountable 32-point lead over the GOP nominee, real estate developer and former state senator Terry Considine.
But the primary drained Campbell’s campaign war chest and forced him to temporarily cancel TV advertising–leaving the airwaves to Considine for more than a month.
More bad news came last week. Campbell fired one of his top aides and suspended two others for impersonating routine callers trying to zing Considine on a radio talk show. Campbell later apologized and blamed their actions on inexperience.
Now his lead has dwindled to 11 percentage points–or even lower in some polls–and the race to succeed retiring Democratic Sen. Timothy E. Wirth has taken a nasty turn focusing primarily on character and image.
At stake are Campbell’s effort to become the only American Indian in the Senate and Republican hopes of strengthening the party’s hold on the Rocky Mountain states.
Regardless of the outcome, the contest between the middle-of-the-road Democrat and conservative Republican signals a political seismic shift in the state that elected liberal Democrats Wirth, Rep. Patricia Schroeder and Sen. Gary Hart in the 1970s and 1980s.
“We are pulling out of a bad economy in Colorado, and people are cautious,” said Robert Drake, vice president of pollsters Talmey-Drake Research and Strategy Inc. of Boulder. “They are not going to vote for liberals.”
In the campaign, Campbell has questioned Considine’s draft status in the Vietnam War, business dealings, anti-abortion position and backing of a land speculator’s attempt to build a road to private property within a federal wilderness area.
Considine, who shepherded congressional term limits into law in Colorado, has fired back with accusations about Campbell’s voting attendance in Congress, “tax-and-spend” philosophy and acceptance of a tour of Alaska’s Arctic National Wildlife Refuge from Chevron Oil Co. in 1990.
In public appearances, Campbell sports a ponytail, cowboy boots and bolo tie. Considine wears business suits and keeps his hair short and well-groomed.
“Campbell’s (initial) ad was a distinctly Western story that captivated the Colorado public,” said Larry Dodd, director of the American Politics Center at the University of Colorado at Boulder. “Against Considine, who is a classic upper-class Republican, Campbell’s story stood out in great relief.”
Born in Auburn, Calif., the 59-year-old Campbell is the son of an alcoholic American Indian father and a Portuguese mother who died of tuberculosis. Campbell, who is part Cheyenne, was raised in a series of Roman Catholic orphanages, earned a high school equivalency degree while in the Air Force and later worked as a truck driver to get through San Jose State University. Campbell moved to a ranch near Durango, Colo., in 1977.
He became a successful jewelry designer and member of the Council of 44 Chiefs of the Northern Cheyenne Tribe, and was elected to the House in 1986.
Campbell is backed by labor unions, ranchers, Latino organizations and veterans groups. However, he angered some Indian leaders by endorsing a controversial Columbus Day parade in Denver that was halted by Indian activists on Oct. 12.
Considine, 45, was born in San Diego, the fourth of 11 children raised in an affluent Catholic family. At age 13, he left Southern California to attend the Groton School, a prep school near Boston.
A graduate of Harvard Law School, Considine initially received a student deferment from the Vietnam War and was later disqualified for service because of a bad back.
In 1975, he formed a property-management firm that specializes in rescuing troubled real estate. Considine moved to Colorado in 1981. Six years later, he was appointed to the state Senate to fill a vacant term and led a successful effort in 1990 to pass a Colorado law limiting members of Congress to 12 years.
But that reformer image has been questioned in the campaign, most notably by the disclosure that Considine-managed partnerships were involved with the failed Denver thrift, Silverado Banking, during the mid-1980s.
Considine is backed by business, banking and anti-abortion groups.
He has taken a hit for defending land speculator Tom Chapman, who this summer began developing a luxury subdivision on private land nestled in a roadless, federally designated wilderness area about 300 miles southwest of Denver.
Chapman threatened to build a road through the wilderness to his property in the West Elk Mountains. But he offered to cease development if the government would buy the property for $5,000 an acre–$4,000 more than its appraised value–or trade him for valuable land near the pricey resort of Telluride.
Considine acknowledged that Chapman was not a particularly sympathetic figure, but defended his property rights.
Researcher Ann Rovin in Denver contributed to this story.