January 19, 2007
Cong
I came to Ney's office straight from a month-long internship program with the at-the-time junior senator from Texas, because I wanted more time in Washington, more time on the Hill, more time to sample a taste of the life I thought I wanted to live.
Ney was a bright star in 1997. It was his sophomore term and he was a stand out from that 1994 class that rocked the Hill when the GOP took control of Congress.
My memories from those few weeks as the sole intern in his office consist mostly of fun times and trips with his other staffers. Of course sorting the mail became an instant duty (actual stamped, addressed, hand-written mail), and I often called constituents in response to their letters and was the first line of communication when the outside phone line rang.
We played softball on the mall against other Congressmans' offices and Cong, as his staffers affectionately called him, joined us at bat more than once. I couldn't believe it sometimes - that I was manning second base trying to get the distinguished gentleman from Arkansas out so we could win the game - all the while in the shadow of the Capitol.
It turned out that Ney's District chief-of-staff was the nephew of the wife of one of my cousin's, and about a year later, when I was working for the Ohio House of Reps, I drove out to Eastern Ohio and campaiged for him. He lost, and I have no idea if he ran again or even what he is doing now.
Unfortunately, I know what former Rep. Ney is doing now, as he was just sentenced to 30 months in prison for his involvement in the Abramoff lobbying scandal.
Although it's been almost a decade, it's still hard to think that the young congressman who represented his district with pride and idealism fell into the snares and scandals of public life. It makes me sad - for him, for his district, for Ohio, for the state of our country's politics on the whole.
I hold onto those memories of coffee breaks with his just-out-of-college secretary; the crazy Appalachian constituent who wanted the Congressman do to something about the Dollar Store who sold her expired toothpaste; of softball games and lunchtimes sitting in the shadow of a building where much should be accomplished, and where hopefully, idealism still lives.
Posted by hannah at 11:01 AM
