Sunday, January 31, 1999
Dedicated worker in a political limbo
BY KAREN SAMPLES
The Cincinnati Enquirer
COVINGTON — Darn, it's early.
Jimmy Williams, Democrat for life, doesn't have to be at work until 9 a.m. But he needs hours to “warm up,” he says, so he rises at 5 and gets to the main bus station by quarter 'til 7.
He claims Republicans have tried to recruit him for his strong work ethic. Considering the ungodliness of the hour, it's clear at least half that sentence is true.
Mr. Williams' girlfriend, Kim Bohnen, usually waits with him at the bus station. They work together at Bawac in Florence, where they do piecework such as counting out nails and sealing them in plastic bags.
Mr. Williams' breath is forming frost in the air, and Ms. Bohnen keeps hopping around to keep warm. In her jeans pocket is a ring from Mr. Williams: a purple stone surrounded by diamonds. It cost $40, she says, and it sort of means they're engaged. She has proposed to him several times, but he wants to wait until he's making more money.
Title taken seriously
Ms. Bohnen's hands are thrust deep inside a black jacket borrowed from her boyfriend.
She may be keeping it for a while. Since Nov. 3, Jimmy Williams hasn't allowed himself to put it on.
“Elected official. Kenton County surveyor,” the jacket says on one side. And on the other: “Elected official. Jimmy Williams.”
Never mind that Mr. Williams has never done a survey in his life. Kentucky apparently doesn't care about details like that; its constitution still requires an election for this job, which has no salary nor regular duties.
Mr. Williams has never pretended otherwise. Still, he took his title seriously after winning a write-in election in 1993. As one of only three disabled people holding elected office in Kentucky, he used the surveyor's position to make a point: Everyone is part of this democracy, even a mentally disabled man.
“It's a mild version of retardation,” says Mr. Williams, 39. “I'm a slow learner.”
Election controversy
On Nov. 3, he lost re-election to a Republican named James Shumate, who happens to be a real surveyor. He beat Mr. Williams by 19,509 votes to 13,173, although he never intended to do much with the office. The local chapter of the surveyors association decided it would be a good idea to professionalize the job in Northern Kentucky, so Mr. Shumate volunteered.
Now he's reconsidering whether to take office. His company, David Estes Engineering, has done some work for Kenton County, and questions have been raised about a possible conflict of interest.
Hard to say how a job with no authority would pose a conflict. Nevertheless, Mr. Williams is thrilled. While his successor waffles, he's calling himself the “surveyor-in-waiting” and checking in with Judge-executive Dick Murgatroyd about once a day.
As a child, Mr. Williams' disability made him a target for bullies in the Newport housing project where he grew up. Now it makes him a remarkable politician: bold, transparent and utterly without guile.
During campaign seasons, he favors Uncle Sam hats and ties that light up, sing and otherwise behave obnoxious ly.
“If you're going to have people notice you, you've got to have something different,” says Mr. Williams, who lives in Latonia with his mom and dad. “One year I even wore green leprechaun shoes.”
He makes the rounds of county fairs, senior citizens picnics and festivals, always taking the bus or getting rides from other politicians.
Everyone knows him. They have to, just about, because he is a relentless worker of the phone. Several times a week, he calls Democratic Party big shots, elected officials, reporters — nobody is too high up on the food chain for a friendly chat. Mr. Williams reads three newspapers a day and sometimes wants to talk issues, but often he's just passing along rumors about who's running for what.
By some accounts, these turn out to be true about 10 percent of the time, which isn't bad.
A born optimist
Nov. 3 was a dark day for Mr. Williams. His mother and his girlfriend sometimes worry about his political aspira tions.
“I get pretty scared whenever guys beat him and stuff, and he's, like, down,” Ms. Bohnen says.
More disappointment may be forthcoming. Mr. Murgatroyd, the judge-executive, says if the new surveyor resigns, he's inclined to appoint somebody else who can actually do a survey once in a while. Sometimes the county has small jobs that might not interest a large firm, he says.
Mr. Williams takes losses personally, but he also bounces back with the buoyancy of a born optimist. Besides surveyor, he would like to serve on the board of the Transit Authority of Northern Kentucky, he says. Maybe the judge-executive would consider him for that position. He is, after all, one of TANK's most devoted riders.
Every day, Mr. Williams takes the bus to one of his part-time jobs: Either at Bawac, a training center for the mentally disabled, or at Sagamore Parking near Covington's riverfront. Last Thursday found him sweeping up beer cans and potato chip bags at the RiverCenter parking garage, a job for which he makes minimum wage.
Yeah, he says, sometimes it's a little boring.
“But then again, it's a job. You still have to do it,” he says.
Mr. Williams would like to be on his own. Right now, though, he's still depending on a small amount of Supplemental Security Income for the disabled. That means he can't make too much at his regular jobs, or he'll lose eligibility.
Whatever he does bring home often goes right back out.
Every year, Mr. Williams donates toys to Covington's African-American Heritage Festival, founded by one of his best friends, former Covington Commissioner Pamela Mullins.
The festival isn't until August, but already he is making payments on three Furbys.
“I often marvel at the guy,” says former County Commissioner Bernie Moorman, who talks to Mr. Williams five times a week. “He has no salary, and he gives away these door prizes all the time. He always buys Christmas presents for everybody.”
Mr. Williams knew he had arrived in Kentucky politics when his gift-giv ing prompted — what else? — an investigation of potential vote-buying.
Last year, he donated Beanie Babies to several charities. The Kentucky Registry of Election Finance got wind of this and sent him a letter quoting Kentucky Statute 121.175.
“The use of (Beanie Babies) as campaign-related material could be construed as vote-buying,” the letter said.
Sheesh.
“I don't want to run into another scandal,” says the surveyor-in-waiting.
His hobby, as he calls politics, began 20 years ago, when he was delivering newspapers for Gus Shee han, a relative. Mr. Sheehan also served in the state Senate, and soon Mr. Williams was accompanying him to Frankfort. He ran documents here and there and generally soaked up the hand-shaking, back-slapping fun of it all.
He has pictures of himself with members of Congress and former governors such as Brereton Jones, who wrote a letter warmly endorsing him in last year's surveyor race.
Now Mr. Williams' conversation is peppered with the favorite nonsayings of politicians — phrases such as “I have no comment on that,” and “But again” — as in, “But again, on that point I want to say ...”
Despite his embrace of the lingo, Mr. Williams is “real, true people,” says Ms. Mullins. “He's not there to deceive or disguise his real motive about things.”
Indeed, the former surveyor has been known to politely inform female acquaintances that he's looking for a girlfriend. (This was before Ms. Bohnen, of course.)
He always remembers special occasions. For her birthday recently, he gave Ms. Mullins a hat-shaped pin that said “bad hair day,” because she often jokes about wearing hats when her hair is a wreck.
Mr. Williams talks a lot, but he also is a keen observer of the small gesture. This is what Mr. Moorman likes the most about him — the way his simple wisdom reminds busy people of the humanity around them.
Once, gabbing away during lunch with a friend, Mr. Williams saw her pause briefly before digging in to her food.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” he said. “You're praying, aren't you?”
Karen Samples' column appears on Sundays and Thursdays. She can be reached at 578-5584 or by e-mail at: ksamples@enquirer.com
Karen Samples is The Enquirer's Kentucky columnist. Her column appears on Sundays and Thursdays in The Kentucky Enquirer. She can be reached at 578-5584 or email
her at ksamples@enquirer.com
SAMPLES ARCHIVE
