Daily Local News (West Chester, PA)
What a ride it’s been for Andy Dinniman
The very first story I covered was a county meeting where Andy Dinniman was one of three at the podium.
Oh my, it’s been a long and wild ride. The very first story I covered for a paycheck was a Chester County Commissioners meeting where Andy Dinniman was one of three at the podium.
Step forward two decades and now, Andy has chosen not to run again for his gig as a state Senator and to instead spend more time with his family. The county will never be quite the same.
Let’s choose to not use proper AP style here as is taught in journalism school. Instead, let’s call him “Andy” for this column, since that’s how almost everyone refers to him.
I was as inexperienced a cub reporter as could be on that day in 2001 when Town Talk hired me as a correspondent. The weekly paper was distributed for free and was wrapped and thrown into thousands of driveways and it was available gratis from racks in lobbies of Wawas.
From the start, Andy stood out as a commissioner. You might remember—it wasn’t so long ago— those were the days when Republicans ruled the county and the minority party took one of three seats on the board. Andy was that lone Democrat.
He was often outvoted and the yearly vote to choose a chairman of the board was no different. Twice, I watched Andy use tact and diplomacy, but everybody in the room except him knew that fellow commissioners Karen Martynick and Colin Hanna were going to out vote him and take turns running the meeting.
After not seeing Andy for a long time period, I asked the senator why he never complained about my coverage or that I might have misquoted him. He was matter of fact. “There is always another day and another paper,” he said.
When I was green at the Phoenix, Andy was one of the first politicians to give me his home phone number and actually take my calls. That made my job much easier.
Where were you during 911? The World Trade Center was attacked during a commission
er’s meeting. We watched on a television rolled out into the meeting room as the second building was struck.
The commissioners were legally forced to vote on a single agenda item that day. The shock on Andy’s face was tragic. When those commissioners looked at the audience, they probably saw the same in our faces.
The world had instantly changed. That was likely the shortest county commissioner’s meeting ever.
One time, I wanted to write a “humorous” column about Andy and his dogs who have become regular companions. For
Small Talk, I wanted to mock interview the dog “Jazz” and get quotes from the poodle himself. When I showed, to Andy’s beautiful Church and Market streets office, the senator was present, but no dog.
I told Andy, “I can’t write about a dog I’ve never met.” Without missing a beat, Andy replied, “I’ll put him on and you can talk to him on the phone.”
I won that one. The next day I returned and met the pooch while staffers stayed far away. The new companion, “Jazz,” wasn’t as friendly as the original, “Henry,” had been.
“Jazz took no prisoners,” Andy told me one time, with a chuckle.
Andy is a talker. He
regularly goes longer than other politicians (which is difficult to do) but he is always interesting and direct. He doesn’t stumble over words and I’ve never seen him use notes. He rarely uses a microphone.
When Gov. Wolf took a walking tour of West Chester, Andy talked my ear off, rather than schmooze with the governor and other politicos. I learned a great deal that day.
Andy and I have both worked at dozens of events together, including a campaign fundraiser for a statewide candidate, at a McMansion near Phoenixville.
This was not your typical broccoli and ranch dressing offerings. We reporters often refer to those little cheese cubes
as “supper,” but this fundraiser was different. It was the single greatest spread on a kitchen table of all time. The caterer had gone wild!
Mid-meal, the senatorial/gubernatorial candidate arrived. Somebody yelled to meet outside on the deck. The room cleared out in 20 seconds. I couldn’t tear myself away from those shrimp that were as big as your fist, with cocktail sauce that featured the perfect mix of horseradish. Yes, I was working, but it was well worth possibly missing the speech for.
I reached for a shrimp and out of nowhere a hand went for the same shrimp.
Ah ha! You guessed it. Andy and I were the only two people left inside filling our bellies. Without a word, we enjoyed the goodies. Then, perhaps a little guilty, we slinked out to the deck for the speaker.
I’ve visited 40 state capitols and Pennsylvania’s is close to being the most impressive. Andy even has fireplace in his office.
I visited the Harrisburg capitol office one time when covering something other than Andy. I was talking to the staff when the senator popped out from behind a wall. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have known he was there. He’d been listening to visitors and announced himself only when he chose to.
Andy has always fought long and hard for the environment. Preservation was something that Hanna, Martynick and he all agreed upon.
Andy has bitterly fought the Sunoco Mariner East Pipeline since long before it became popular to have such an opinion.
That might have landed him into a bit of hot water with the governor. You would never know it from watching the pair together. That’s the mark of true politicians.
So what’s next, I asked Andy this week?
He told me he intends to form an issue political action committee that will lobby, but not financially support, politicians.
Education, civic dialogue, animals—Andy’s favorite—and pediatric cancer will all be addressed.
And what will the longtime politician miss?
“I will most miss the people who I meet every day,” he said. “One of the joys is that you meet so many people from so many walks of life.
“You see the world you didn’t see before.”
Good luck, Andy. You left your mark with dignity, grace and professionalism, and will continue to do so. We shall miss you.