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- <text id=90TT0673>
- <title>
- Mar. 19, 1990: A Cowpoke for Governor?
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1990
- Mar. 19, 1990 The Right To Die
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- NATION, Page 19
- A Cowpoke for Governor?
- </hdr>
- <body>
- <p>Clayton Williams' folksy campaign catches on with Texas voters
- </p>
- <p>By Richard Woodbury
- </p>
- <p> With his gray Resistol hat and black ostrich-skin boots, the
- folksy gubernatorial candidate working the food line in a Tyler
- cafeteria last week looked every bit the old-time Texas cowboy
- that he is. And the campaign pledges that he rattled off in a
- gravelly West Texas drawl were just what plenty of voters in
- the Lone Star State want to hear.
- </p>
- <p> "Double the prisons...boot camps for first-felony
- offenders...fight drugs from every direction," urged
- Republican Clayton Williams. "Free college tuition for good
- kids from at-risk families...better vocational training...more private-sector jobs," he went on. And all this with
- no new taxes.
- </p>
- <p> Williams' cowpoke image and a bundle of cash have propelled
- him to the fore in a mud-spattered primary season. Riding a
- nearly 2-to-1 lead over his nearest rival, Texas Railroad
- Commissioner Kent Hance, into this week's G.O.P. election, he
- seemed a good bet to win outright, avoiding a runoff. One
- recent poll shows him going on to beat handily any candidate
- the Democrats nominate.
- </p>
- <p> Williams has caught on because he offers catchy solutions
- to complicated problems, with a rustic sincerity that Texans
- seem to relish. A fourth-generation Texan, he personally leads
- roundups and spring brandings of the 900 Brangus cattle on his
- 43-sq.-mi. Happy Cove Ranch in the Big Bend country. He
- concedes that he once decked a disgruntled ex-employee,
- explaining, "There are times when you don't call a lawyer."
- Observes Austin political consultant George Christian: "He
- typifies what a lot of people think Texas ought to be."
- </p>
- <p> Williams, 58, is a shrewd businessman who grew up on a
- cattle ranch at Fort Stockton and built a $250 million empire
- in oil, gas, ranching, banking and communications. He boasts
- that his business endeavors have created jobs for 100,000
- Texans. "I'm a survivor of the oil patch," he tells crowds.
- "Rebuilding is my purpose. Let's make Texas great again." On
- the stump at tamale feeds and rodeos, the candidate embellishes
- his message, bear-hugging his way through crowds, pecking women
- on the cheek and grabbing a guitar to warble a Mexican ballad.
- </p>
- <p>motel clerk Boris Johnson. "There's nothing phony. He speaks
- common sense."
- </p>
- <p> Williams has saturated the airwaves with 30-second TV spots,
- some featuring Williams on horseback, backlighted by the
- setting sun. The ads are lavishly shot on film rather than
- videotape, for higher quality. In one tough-talking commercial,
- he promises to "introduce [drug pushers] to the joys of bustin'
- rocks." Of the $8.4 million Williams has invested in the race,
- $6.2 million has come from his own very deep pocket.
- </p>
- <p> Popular though it may be with average voters, Williams'
- campaign has irritated members of the state's Old Guard
- Republican establishment, who preferred a more conventional
- nominee. Dismissing his chances, they spread support among
- Hance, former Secretary of State Jack Rains and Dallas lawyer
- Tom Luce. But as Williams gained steam, they reluctantly began
- to jump aboard with campaign contributions.
- </p>
- <p> Williams says he wants to be Governor because his son
- Clayton Wade had a marijuana problem when he was 15. After the
- boy was expelled from high school in 1986, Williams and his
- wife Modesta saw him through a 14-month rehabilitation program.
- "Help me rid us of this plague," he implores audiences. "Help
- me get the drug dealers out of the school yards." He wants to
- create a work camp in the West Texas desert where youthful drug
- offenders would get a chance to reform without obtaining a
- police record. He suggests doubling the number of state
- narcotics agents, establishing special drug courts and
- stiffening sentences for casual drug users.
- </p>
- <p> To pay for the programs, Williams would enact a state hiring
- freeze and sweeping budget cuts, including selling most of the
- 61 official airplanes and closing district offices. "You give
- this fella a whack at that budget, and I'll pay for it all and
- save some to boot," he says.
- </p>
- <p> Critics have attacked Williams for attempting to buy the
- governorship with simplistic solutions. "I don't think we can
- ride horseback into the space age," said G.O.P. rival Luce. But
- Williams dismisses such criticism with his trademark horse
- laugh and zany grin. The larger question is whether his cowboy
- cachet can survive in the general election. "He hasn't
- withstood the fire of a long campaign and journalistic
- scrutiny," points out Richard Murray, a University of Houston
- political scientist. "Without the cash, he'd be a terrible
- fourth." Whatever way the vote goes, Williams appears ready to
- accept it. "If I lose," says Williams, "I've drilled a total
- dry hole. If I win, I'll get some of my money back" in
- contributions from political fund raisers.
- </p>
-
- </body>
- </article>
- </text>
-
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