94 sLAde goRton: A hALf centuRy in poLitics
Durkan, an old-school Irishman, five points ahead of Evans in a matchup
for governor. It also tested the popularity of Kramer and Gorton in a theo-
retical race with the Democrat. The secretary of state was a way weaker
opponent than Evans, while Gorton was weaker yet. “Finishing behind
Kramer must have been some kind of hurt,” wrote Richard W. Larsen, the
influential political columnist for The Seattle Times. “Kramer, in his last
outing as a candidate, finished fourth in a field of candidates running for
mayor of Seattle in 1969.”^34 Dore was a deeply disappointed third.
Gorton accepted the poll results philosophically. Being governor was
not his cup of tea, although he gave no hint of that at the time. The old-
est dictum in politics is “Never say never.” His goal was the U.S. Senate.
He also knew that Evans was leaning toward a third term. Dan loved
being governor—and, as things would turn out, would find the Senate
frustrating.
“The issues are sort of mixed,” Gorton told Larsen. “Some people are
infuriated because they don’t get to play bingo.” Others admired his ag-
gressiveness. “By his advocacy of consumer protection,” the columnist
observed, “Gorton makes enemies in the business community. Perhaps a
few consumers become Gorton loyalists. When he makes a push for a fair
landlord-tenant act, it infuriates the landlords. Few tenants know that
anything has been tried.”^35
Gorton seemed curiously serene, Larsen wrote, and likely to seek re-
election despite the certainty that the Democrats would swarm at him—
“a confident troupe of easy-going, back-slapping, very warm politicians
who would like to be attorney general.... Week by week, Gorton travels
around the state.... He plans no image remodeling: It will be horn-
rimmed all the way.”^36
Vintage Larsen, the piece stands as one of the most insightful early
takes on Gorton’s persona:
Some people have called Slade Gorton a snobbish, elitist Ivy Leaguer.
Those words came from some of the sweet-talkers.... For my part, Slade
Gorton often reminds me of Miss Griswold. Miss Griswold was my sixth-
grade civics teacher—tall, fiercely humorless. She had icy blue eyes, which
peered at the class through thick-lensed glasses. And all the while she
had an unnerving smile locked on her face. She labored to excite the class
about the dust-covered subject of government. And the more we scuffed
our feet and sighed the more shrill Miss Griswold became.... Once when
the class was studying presidential succession, Miss Griswold asked me
a question: Upon the death or incapacity of the president, the vice presi-
dent, the secretary of state and the secretary of the treasury, who would