160 sLAde goRton: A hALf centuRy in poLitics
Jimmy Carter ended up in a crowded hangar at rain-swept Boeing Field
with Jackson, Magnuson, McDermott, Tom Foley, Norm Dicks, Mike
Lowry and a cheering throng of loyal Democrats whistling past a grave-
yard. Magnuson introduced the president. Carter took his hand. Motor-
ized Nikons captured Maggie smiling bravely as the president poked the
air with a clenched fist. Carter knew from his number-crunchers that it
was all over. When Scoop saw Patrick Caddell’s last tracking poll that af-
ternoon he sensed a tsunami. Gorton’s trend line mirrored Reagan’s.
He’d caught Magnuson 10 days earlier and gained every day.^15
Boveon n MeR 4, 1980, Ronald Reagan carried 44 states, including Wash-
ington. Gorton won going away, capturing 54 percent of the vote to end
Magnuson’s storied career in Congress. Another high-profile Democratic
casualty was the party’s 1972 presidential candidate, George McGovern of
South Dakota. He was crushed by another Newman client, Congressman
James Abdnor. The “Reagan Revolution” gave Republicans a Senate major-
ity for the first time since 1954. Spellman handily outpolled McDermott.
Magnuson complained that national TV projections of a GOP sweep
almost two hours before the polls closed in the West cost him votes. His
advisers conceded, however, that it didn’t alter the outcome. “It’s like be-
ing in a plane crash,” said Eric Redman, a Magnuson strategist. “Every-
body gets killed regardless of their merits.”
Rather than thinning out as the returns grew increasingly gloomier,
the crowd at Magnuson’s campaign headquarters got bigger as the night
wore on, anticipating the senator’s valedictory. With Jermaine at his side
and a phalanx of loyal aides and admirers, Magnuson arrived just before
- “We were subject to some sort of tidal wave that swept into the State of
Washington,” the old campaigner said, eyes sad but upper lip stiff. He’d
never before lost an election. “There is a time to come and a time to go.
And I guess after 48 years they decided to turn me out to pasture.”
“No!” came a shout. Others, many of them weeping, began to chant,
“We love you, Maggie!” Magnuson gave them a smile and a wave. “I wish
my successor well. In a way, he’s probably done me a favor.”
“No! No!”
“Well,” the senator concluded, “maybe he’s doing you a favor.” Then he
turned fondly to his partner since 1952. “I don’t know what I’m going to
do without you, Scoop.” Jackson, voice quavering, put a hand on his shoul-
der. “Maggie, it’s the other way around. I don’t know what I’m going to do
without you.”^16
A few blocks south, Gorton, as is his wont on election nights, was