The Register Citizen (Torrington, CT)
A politician’s life across the stage of Conn.
On the stage that is the State of Connecticut, Mark Boughton’s life is of Shakespearean proportions. Love, loss, power, betrayal, ambition, sacrifice, redemption, a staredown with death. At times, it may have seemed buffeted about by uncontrollable fate; but ultimately he knows he is responsible for his own destiny — as we all are.
At the midcentury age of 55, he has already run for governor three times, last year gaining the glory of the Republican nomination only to lose in the summer primary to a millionaire who eschewed public financing. There will not be a fourth time.
On Tuesday evening, Boughton won the chance for a different title — Danbury’s longest serving mayor. And that suits him just fine.
The morning after election night, a suited Boughton strides into Mothership Bakery on Main Street, a coolvibe gathering spot. Before he orders a bottle of Coca Cola (he doesn’t drink coffee), he stops to chat with an employee who is roasting coffee beans in the lobby for that day’s patrons.
The morning after the election, when the mayor of the seventhlargest city in the state bested his toughest opponent in nearly two decades, he was still campaigning. That’s the way he is. Always making the personal connection.
He pulls up a chair opposite me and we begin the interview I requested days earlier. We all know what you have in mind for Danbury the next two years, I say. What I want to talk about is your life.
What Shakespearean figure or play best reflects who you are? He laughs. Yeah, I joke, would it be a tragedy or a comedy?
Ambition, loss
Mark Boughton has a witty sense of humor. He keeps up a regular Twitter chatter with high school students. He sent an election flier from his dog, Ellie, to 1,800 registered dogs in Danbury this fall. He gleefully acquired the 38foottall Uncle Sam statue that once greeted visitors to the legendary Danbury Fair but ended up in a New York amusement park for decades, and put it downtown.
He is Danbury through and through, while hoping — earlier — to step onto a bigger stage and lead Connecticut as governor.
He is a son who has followed in his father’s footsteps. Donald Boughton, a Korean War veteran, became mayor of Danbury in 1977, three administrations before his only son, and was a state representative. Mark recalls the phone ringing at home in the evening, and his father taking the call because being mayor is not a job you turn “off.”
Like his father, he went through Danbury schools. He taught social studies at Danbury High School for more than a decade and served as state rep before winning his first mayoral term in 2001.
November echoes with significance in his life. It was in 1995 that he met Phyllis Guida, campaigning for a cousin. The next Nov. 10 they married, a marriage that lasted 19 years. Loss. He pauses as we chat to note that Phyllis (who I know) voted for him in this election. Another loss, his father died eight Novembers ago.
But there is also love. A steady companion of several years. And Ellie, the dog, who he walks every evening down Main Street, where they live in a Kennedy Flats apartment.
Betrayal. To understand, go back to 2010. Boughton put aside his campaign for governor at that time and ended up running as Tom Foley’s lieutenant governor — and they came close, within half a percent, to beating Democrat Dannel Malloy. It was good training. Four years later, Boughton realized he could enhance his chances to reach the state election financing threshold by combining donations with a former Groton Town mayor, Heather Somers, who he chose as a running mate. They were a team, until five days after the nominating convention when she dumped him and aligned with Foley. She didn’t return Boughton’s $100 contributions, he said. History knows the FoleySomers ticket lost to another Malloy term.
“People around here understand the way the numbers break, but they do not understand — nor forgive — broken promises,” I wrote in a column at the time.
Lesson learned. Last year in his third try, Boughton worked the phones and traveled around the state to garner donations that would get him to the state matching grant level. He did it. He won the party nomination only to have the ballot place snatched away by Bob Stefanowski in the August primary.
By then, though, Boughton’s perspective of what is ultimately most important had changed. The year before, he nudged death.
What if ...
It was the summer of 2017 and he was running for his ninth term as Danbury mayor. Dizziness sent him to the Danbury Hospital ER. A benign brain tumor was discovered. He tracked down the only surgeon in the world who specialized in that type of tumor; he was at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center and agreed to see him. Boughton wanted to wait until after the election, about three months away.
His general practitioner in Danbury called him. Mark, you don’t have that much time. Get that surgery now.
In many public speeches and personal conversations since then, Boughton recounts the sense of human frailty he felt the night before the operation. He recovered, the scar is barely perceptible and his stamina has returned. He speaks freely about his belief in God.
“It made me a different person,” he said. He is more sensitive to others’ plight in life.
Redemption. Boughton doesn’t like this, but his name is inexorably tied to the dark days in the city in 2006 when ICE agents, aided by local police, entrapped undocumented day laborers. They became known as the Danbury 11. The city was riven, with marches down Main Street for and against the actions. Boughton, as mayor, was interviewed on national TV. The city ended up paying $400,000 in the resulting lawsuit.
That would not happen again, he insists. For one, the state has the Trust Act, which would prevent like roundups. He is not antiimmigration, he insists.
“For six or seven years I taught ELL,” he said, “And I didn’t ask a student’s status and didn’t care.”
The mayor knows that the growing immigrant community contributes to Danbury’s economy, visible in the many shops downtown. In this way, the city is a microcosm of the country.
Wednesday morning at the Mothership Bakery — after attending a veterans’ event and before going to a funeral of a prominent Danbury resident and later conducting a workshop on school overcrowding, plus working — Boughton was looking ahead, past the hardfought campaign.
What would you have done if you had lost? What was your Plan B?
He didn’t know. Maybe create podcasts of people who have succeeded despite the odds.
“Sure, I would have been upset if I had lost,” he said. It would have been time for reinvention.
I went back to the Shakespeare question. Well, he taught Macbeth in high school, he allowed, but his life would definitely not be like any character in that play. No.
Yet the Shakespearean eternal themes have played across the stage of the state.