Swan song: Bowing out after 37 years watching Olympia

OLYMPIA — At long last, it's time to sign off.

After 37 years with a ringside seat at the Capitol, I'm moving on, leaving an amazing gig at The Associated Press and crossing the street to try my hand at state government. It's a bittersweet moment, exhilarating and scary.

The irreverent press corps calls this "going to the dark side" — the lure of better money, shorter hours and a modicum of power that eventually snags many reporters.

In a move that baffled many colleagues who expected to see me in the press gallery until retirement, I'll report soon to Secretary of State Sam Reed's office, where my plan is to become the beloved, witty and much-quoted communications director.

But before that, a look back at four decades on the Olympia beat.

Time for change

When I arrived at the cramped press room in the Capitol basement that July Monday morning back in '71, I had a college degree, a scant year of professional journalism experience, and a boyish blend of eagerness, idealism and innocence.

It was near the end of the era of blue-collar, old-time reporters, grizzled and world-wise, hard-drinking, hard-smoking, profane and cynical. They were fun, if a little scary. They were cozy with sources, wore bias on their sleeves and often saw government as "us," not separate worlds. Lobbyists would pull up and distribute liquor from their car trunks and lawmakers had watering holes in their offices.

Holier than thou, I declined the fraternizing and the booze, and stiff-armed lobbyists, staffers and all but official, quotable sources, assuming spin would taint me. Eventually I loosened up, realizing I needed a broad array of sources. I learned a new color, gray, and the meaning of "trust, but verify." Yes, Virginia, people lie and distort.

Today's press corps is smarter and more strategic in covering government, more skeptical, and looking to hold officials accountable through high-impact stories, rather than just a drip-drip-drip of process-laden stories. That's all to the good.

With the rise of the 24-hour news cycle and the blogosphere and economic woes of the news biz, reporters have to be faster, smarter and able to provide value-added journalism. I'll be missing an exciting, yet anxious time to work in the media.

I started out writing with a manual typewriter and a Teletype machine that fed through telephone wires live into newsrooms around the state, clicketyclack. Fax machines came next and eventually, whee, came the computer era. Today, we talk digital and multiplatform, and access to the Internet and news archives is a given.

The capital press corps has mostly stayed the same smallish size, about 15, although the players have changed. Television has mostly pulled out and radio coverage is spotty except for public radio. But TVW, the state version of C-SPAN, blogs, talk radio and special-interest e-mail newsletters offer new perspectives.

Some of the issues recur and some of the political food-fights sometimes seem familiar, but the chemistry and the context always seem to be changing. I've never found it dull or boring. I've learned something new every day.

Pendulum swinging

Change has been a constant in covering seven very different governors, 40-plus legislative sessions and the courts, agencies, private sector and all the players in government. (Other moments include my all-time favorite story, the 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helens; searching for skyjacker D.B. Cooper, covering Tim Eyman's meltdown; and lunching with sources like, oh, mass murderer Ted Bundy).

As for the political players, when I arrived, the patriarchal, self-sure and rigid old guard of the pre-Watergate days were giving way to skepticism and pluralism. Republican Gov. Dan Evans and the Democratic Legislature were launching the environmental movement, expanding rights for women and minorities, and ushering in campaign finance, open-records and open-meetings laws. Evans spent money lavishly on bold new programs and risked his skin by repeatedly pursuing a state income tax.

Over time, can-do boldness gave way to a cycle of spending and retrenching, reflecting the boom-and-bust cycles of the economy. Ideas seemed to get smaller and forward movement more incremental, as both parties learned the political wisdom of caution. Vanilla became their new favorite flavor.

Still, in many ways, government has evolved. The Legislature has expanded into a genuine partner to the executive branch, with permanent nonpartisan staff providing independent analysis and lawmakers tackling increasingly difficult and complex issues, like health care, global warming and education reform. The administration now takes on just about every social concern you could imagine. Governors try to be manager-in-chief and parent-in-chief.

The state's politics may be tame, but they also run through cycles and produce the occasional surprise, such as U.S. House Speaker Tom Foley getting bounced in 1994 and Dino Rossi coming from out of nowhere to almost win the state's closest governor's race a decade later.

Washington's default political leaning is centrist Democrat — only one other Republican has served as governor since Evans and no GOP White House ticket has carried the state since Ronald Reagan — but we've seen the pendulum swing, sometimes wildly.

In 1992, Democrats won most offices around, leaving only one GOP congressman. In the very next election, fortunes reversed and the "Republican Revolution" installed GOP officeholders everywhere. As the pendulum swung back, things were so nip-and-tuck that the state House was actually tied 49-49.

For the moment, Democrats pretty much run the show, but Republicans expect to make gains this fall.

The Washington Whiplash also has shown up when it comes to issues like taxes and spending. One year we mandate stringent spending limits and toss out the folks who gave us big tax hikes — and soon we're ordering up big spending increases and approving a new estate tax and the biggest transportation tax package ever.

Megatrends and headaches

It's been great fun to watch trends take shape. A few examples:

Grrrl power. From patriarchy, we've become the first state with two female senators and a woman governor, not to mention large numbers of women in lower offices.

Minorities. Likewise, minorities have broken the glass ceiling — such as Gov. Gary Locke, the country's first Chinese-American governor, and King County Executive Ron Sims, the state's most powerful black politician.

Direct democracy. It's been fascinating to watch the initiative process take on new primacy. It has brought us cheap car tabs, property tax caps and performance audits, all from the factory of Tim Eyman; sweeping education and environmental changes; and mandatory yearly increases in the minimum wage. The original grass roots notion, though, is giving way to special interests buying their way onto the ballot.

Open government. "Sunshine" advocates complain about secrecy in government and want better access to records and to policymakers. A hopeful sign, besides creation of a new Sunshine Committee, is the new public demand for more transparency, the unblinking eye of the TVW cameras, and the rise of government-watchers from all along the political spectrum.

Personal postscript

I will always believe journalism is a noble calling with a particularly important, constitutionally protected role in a free society. Including high-school and college press, I've done media for 44 years now. I've honestly enjoyed nearly every day.

My deep gratitude goes to my legions of readers and their helpful feedback and suggestions, journalism colleagues in Olympia and around the state, my editors and mentors, family and friends, and so many of the people I covered over 37 years. For kindnesses, tutelage and tips, I am in your debt.

And now, for the traditional journalist's signoff for one last time:

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David Ammons may be reached at PO Box 607, Olympia, WA 98507, or at dammonsap.org on the Internet.