Sometimes words seem so inadequate. But sometimes, words are all we have.
As the news began unfolding about the shooting of Bill Gwatney, chairman of the Democratic Party in Arkansas, a sense of numbness began to set in. From where I sit, I was able to get a bit of information early on, and the information I received was not encouraging in the least.
And then came the news that no one wanted to hear.
No one. Including me.
I had the privilege for several years of covering the Arkansas Legislature during my time as managing editor of the The Daily Citizen in Searcy, and during that time, I became fairly well acquainted with Bill Gwatney. He always struck me as a capable senator, acerbic at times, well read on the issues, and not particularly willing to suffer fools gladly.
A lot like Mike Beebe, actually. Who was, in truth, the reason I was able to get the kind of access to the workings of the Legislature that I had during those years. The reason I was able to interview senators like Bill Gwatney, and to learn a tremendous amount about the reasoning that went into many of the bills that were introduced was because Mike Beebe, now our Governor, told his colleagues that I was tough at times, but always fair.
It enabled me to get a good sense of the thoughtfulness that goes into much legislation, and the hard work that goes into getting that legislation passed into law. During that time I was privileged not only to see Senator Bill Gwatney at work, but to also see that he was human, he was well aware of the privilege he had been given to serve the people of this state he loved so well, and that he wanted what was best for Arkansas.
But this is not a political statement. It’s a personal statement. It’s a statement of respect for a man I have tremendous respect for, and a man who was taken from us far too soon for reasons that we will probably never be able to fathom.
So, if you will indulge me just a tiny bit, I’d like to tell you a story about the Bill Gwatney I met back during those days when Mike Beebe was wrapping up a long and successful senate career, and Bill Gwatney was working with then-Senator Beebe and a host of others to make this the best state he could.
I took my son, Zachary, to the State Capitol one day to see how state government worked. From the floor of the Senate, Mike Beebe introduced Zachary, asked him to stand, and he received applause from the assembly. I don’t know if Zack appreciates that moment all these years later, but you can bet that I do.
I also remember Senator Jim Hill getting into a paper wad fight with Zack on the Senate floor and I was terrified that Senator Beebe, President Pro Tem, would toss all of us right out of the chamber and into the street. Good times. But I digress.
Later, I visited with Senator Gwatney in his office about Senator Beebe’s tenure in the Senate. It was a good interview, but Bill Gwatney cut it short, mainly because he wanted to visit with Zack. With my son. Not me, the reporter, but with my son. They talked about how government works and then they talked about sports.
Senator Gwatney spent about an hour with Zack, at the end of which, he gave him a hockey puck that he had gotten at a professional hockey game. He didn’t have to do that. He certainly didn’t owe me any favors. I wasn’t in a position to do anything for him. He just did it because he was a decent guy who liked kids.
And that’s the most important thing that I remember. For an hour, Bill Gwatney wasn’t a banker, he wasn’t the owner of a car dealership, he wasn’t a powerful senator, he was just a good and decent guy who liked kids and who spent an hour with my son talking to him about the value of public service and then talking about sports.
Arkansas has lost a valuable public servant who spent countless hours trying to make things better for people he didn’t even know, simply because they live in Arkansas.
Governor Mike Beebe and those who work closely with him have lost a good and loyal friend who often placed their interests above his own.
The Gwatney family has lost a son, a father, and a husband who loved his family and worked hard to make sure that this state would be a better place for them.
My heart goes out to all the people who knew and cared about and loved Bill Gwatney.
And on a personal level, I lost a good and decent guy who spent an hour with my son when he probably had a whole lot of other things he could have been doing, but he spent that hour even though it brought him not one ounce of political capital, not one dollar in campaign contributions, not one iota of influence. He just did it because he liked kids, and for that moment in time, he liked my kid. Believe me, that goes a long way with me.
And when you think about it really hard, those of us who labor in state government at whatever level, who put tremendous effort into making life better; we do it for the kids, for the future of our beloved state.
Whatever we remember about Bill Gwatney, I hope we remember that he did what he did for the kids, for the future, for Arkansas. I hope we remember that. I hope that we honor that. And I hope that we work for that.
Not just for Bill Gwatney. But for the kids.