John McCain and the great Arizona outdoors
For me, on a personal level, the passing of John McCain marks a passing of a friend, the passing of an era in my professional life that so often intersected with him and a flood of cherished memories.
There were campaign meetings, fundraisers, client sessions in Washington or Phoenix that provided numerous opportunities to hear John McCain’s oft-repeated jokes that still make me laugh. I can clearly hear him . ... “As Chairman Mao once said, it is darkest, just before it goes totally black.”
And then there are the dear memories of being the punching bag:
“Hello my friends, I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me today and by the way, I have traveling with me today, my friend, Kurt Davis. Kurt recently left prison through a work release program. So, give him a round of applause.” Or...
“You know, Kurt may be the worst Game and Fish commissioner our state has ever had.”
To be roasted by him was an honor. I have memories of entering his office in Washington, D.C., with a client to discuss their issues concerning legislation, but after the meeting, John McCain would always take a moment to invariably say to me, “Hey Scumbag (one of John’s words of affection for lobbyists), what is going on out there?”
He kept track of who was doing what and to whom on the political battlefield.
He asked if I would co-chair his Arizona campaign for president in 2008, he kiddingly warning me of the dire consequences I would suffer if I helped cochair a campaign of a presidential candidate who lost his home state.
I met John Sidney McCain in 1982 when I was a college Republican at Northern Arizona University. Later, he became Barry Goldwater’s successor in the U.S. Senate and I the newly minted executive director of the Arizona Republican Party.
My most cherished memories of the man, however, come later in our lives. They involve smartphones; planes; long, lost highways; otters; bison; wolves; burros; trout and stunning landscapes and sunsets across a vast Arizona landscape.
I had the good fortune of sharing his passion for Arizona’s wildlife and her landscapes, and we did numerous tours, briefings and meetings across the state on policy issues that included land designations, stocking sport fish, bison management on the North Rim, wolf reintroduction, the impact of non-native burros on Arizona’s habitat, California condor reintroduction, federal land policy and forest health.
John McCain didn’t just learn these issues in an office, he got out and examined them for himself. His inquisitive eye for the natural world was where he and I intersected the most and shared a passion.
We flew in small planes together and even lost an engine once. While others on the flight and I were about to lose our minds, he calmly reminded us there were two engines, it was no big deal and “hopefully the pilot is Navy."
We drove distances to faraway places and spent evenings up close with Arizona in places such as the Vermillion Cliffs. It was there on a perfectly still, beautiful Arizona evening that I watched a friend, in a moment of unusual quiet, take his iPhone, saunter out to the middle of Highway 89 and snap numerous pictures of an unbelievable sunset rising above the Grand Canyon and North Rim.
We sat that evening on the front porch of the lodge and spoke about God’s handiwork in the creation of our natural world. He joked about the intelligence of the otters in the Verde River and how they feasted on the Koi fish that Cindy had put in their ponds near his cabin at their beloved ranch.
His term for those otters was not a Latin word or scientific label, but a profane description of these highly proficient thieves. It was something we laughed about often.
We often spoke of his strong connection to Arizona, its beauty and wildlife. We pondered the impact of wildlife and its implications for the future of our state. For me, these were powerful moments with a friend, not a politician — just a guy, not a celebrity. An Arizonan who loved this unique place. They were simply awesome opportunities to speak of things that mattered to both of us.
Shortly before John got sick, we were planning a trip to the Wilcox Playa to see the thousands of sandhill cranes that call Arizona home during the winter. We wanted to enjoy the wonder of watching these creatures that traverse thousands of miles to visit our state in winter. It was a trip we never made, and I will always feel great sadness for having lost that opportunity.
John McCain’s personal creed was evident in his oft-spoken words of, “Nothing in life is more liberating than to fight for a cause larger than yourself, something that encompasses you but is not defined by your existence alone.” And did he ever live out that creed. Every day of his public and personal life, he viewed mankind, his constituents, his family, his friends, his state and his country as causes larger than himself.
He also believed conservation a cause worth fighting for, and with his friend Congressmen Mo Udall passed the seminal Arizona Wilderness Act and other bills that helped protect Arizona in the 1980's and early 1990’s.
John McCain's voice will come with me on hunting or fishing trips and ring in my head when traversing Arizona’s landscape — a gentle reminder of the important work of conservation for our state’s wildlife.
We enjoyed discussing a quote by a favorite president we both claimed — Teddy Roosevelt — because it reminded me so much of his little piece of heaven near Cornville. Roosevelt was describing his own ranch house on a river bank:
“From the low, long veranda, shaded by leafy cotton-woods, one looks across sand bars and shallows to a strip of meadowland, behind which rises a line of sheer cliffs and grassy plateaus. This veranda is a pleasant place in the summer evenings when a cool breeze stirs along the river and blows in the faces of the tired men, who loll back in their rockingchairs, book in hand — though they do not often read the books, but rock gently to and fro, gazing sleepily out at the weird-looking buttes opposite, until their sharp outlines grow indistinct and purple in the after-glow of the sunset."
I am sure John McCain is now temporarily sitting in a rocking chair on the edge of a river, with a stunning landscape in the background. He's asking our Creator, “What’s next? Where are we going and what are we doing next?”