the coMeBAcK 245
ening thought.” The candidate and his retinue were sporting “War on
Drugs Booster Club” buttons. “The single most salient issue” in this
campaign is drugs, McGavick said.^31
Kapolczynski told Lowry he had to get tougher. Shrum and his part-
ner, David Doak, rolled out a flurry of body blows: “There’s a reason Slade
Gorton isn’t in the Senate any more. While he was there he voted to deny
low-income senior citizens a Social Security cost-of-living increase. Not
once but nine times Slade Gorton voted against Social Security benefits.
And then he voted 13 times to cut Medicare and health services for se-
niors.”^ As columnists clucked their tongues at the “wretched” nastiness,
lamenting that campaigns had been reduced to “he hit me first” school-
yard spats, McGavick observed, “Just saying this guy’s a nice guy is not
going to make any difference. You can only move numbers when you
have a message that affects the (voting) decision.” Gary Smith noted that
while voters always claim they like positive ads, they’re more heavily in-
fluenced by negative ones.^32
With Congress working overtime, Lowry was the frequent flier in this
campaign while Gorton was canvassing the state, appearing to actually
enjoy watching Rotary Club members fork over “happy bucks” in honor
of new grandchildren and WSU football victories. Wearing a flannel shirt
at the Columbia County Fair, he awarded blue ribbons to a pair of FFA
kids and patted their pigs on the butt. McGavick’s strategy was a combi-
nation of old-fashioned grass-roots politics and well-funded modern mar-
keting that could respond quickly to new developments. Smith dealt with
the press and helped make sure Slade was relentlessly on message. Gor-
ton’s only job was being the candidate. “This is the most fun campaign
I’ve ever been in,” he said. His new glasses, augmented by contact lenses,
were a big improvement. The old Coke-bottle bifocals either had him with
his chin up, appearing aloof, or looking down as if condescendingly. Un-
fortunately, the contacts made him blink a lot, especially in the glare of
TV lights.^33
ineRLhe t A y-MoRning houRs of Monday, October 3, Lowry arrived in
Chicago on United’s red-eye from Seattle and collapsed while awaiting a
connecting flight to D.C. Battling successive bouts of bronchitis, the flu
and a bad cold, Lowry had been self-medicating with aspirin and a coffee
chaser. Doctors in the intensive care unit at Chicago’s Resurrection Hos-
pital diagnosed a bleeding ulcer. He was lucky they caught it early. They
wanted him to stay longer than two nights, but he needed a cash transfu-
sion. Lowry was back at the Capitol in time for a fundraiser at the home