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Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Courtney Works To Be More Than 'Sub Guy' - The Hartford Courant

Courant.com

Courtney Works To Be More Than 'Sub Guy'

BY JESSE HAMILTON

Washington Bureau Chief

March 30, 2008

WASHINGTON -

Joe Courtney leans in, peering at the old photo on the office wall. "That's him, isn't it?" Courtney asks. In the center of the photo stands Harry Truman; off to the side is Ike Skelton, tall and young, long before he was the senior congressman from Missouri and chairman of the powerful House Armed Services Committee.

Courtney is waiting in Skelton's office lobby. After a while, the freshman is invited into Skelton's office. Courtney is one of the most junior of the 62 members of Skelton's committee, and the two congressmen exchange pleasantries, straying toward the topic of Truman.

"He was the real thing, Joe," Skelton recalls. "Kind of like a next-door neighbor."

When the meeting turns toward its point, it isn't about hashing out the details of a defense program. This is a payment of congressional dues. Courtney has brought Skelton a present — a scale model of a Virginia-class submarine. It's what the USS Missouri, one of the Navy's future fast-attack subs, will look like when it's finished by Electric Boat, which is in Groton.

Skelton, a military history enthusiast, seems impressed, his eyes tracking details of the black sub that will bear his state's name.

"You helped us a lot," Courtney says, still elated by his first big congressional victory as a rookie, an increase in submarine construction.

"You're a hero, I hope," Skelton says, chuckling.

"We still have work to do," Courtney replies.

Courtney has the benefit and burden of a strong legislative focus. Scoring the boost in submarine construction was so clear a voter mandate in his district, which covers most of eastern Connecticut, that he knew he had to put much of his energy into that single task. Fail, and his argument for re-election would suffer. Succeed, and he'd have easy fodder for his campaign message in 2008.

He won his seat in 2006 in the closest congressional race in the country, its 83-vote margin earning him the ironic nickname "Landslide Joe." He said recently, "There are still times that you pinch yourself."

But the close vote has left him with a sense that he must earn that victory. Courtney compared the mark it's left on him to Harry Potter's scar. So he has put a lot into submarines, but he's tried to make marks in other areas, too.

From Courtney's office in the Cannon House Office Building, 19 bills have emerged, though most — about a dozen — relate to a proposed break for a Stafford Springs textile firm on importing various animal hairs for fabric.

Among the legislation he has introduced, the former Vernon town attorney has two successes: a bill that named a Suffield post office after a Marine corporal from Connecticut killed in Iraq, Stephen R. Bixler, and a bill that would designate parts of a state river as "wild and scenic."

It's apparent that sticking him solely under the submarine label bothers him and his staff. "You don't want to be known as a one-trick pony," he says.

But Courtney is the submarine guy in Congress, by necessity.

Courtney replaced a Republican congressman, Rob Simmons, who carried a deep military pedigree. Nearly half of the 2nd District's voters weren't sure Courtney could handle his task — a headlong charge against resistance from the Bush administration and Navy officers with constellations of stars on their shoulders. So, during the campaign and his first months in office, he studied subs.

Understanding Courtney's potential vulnerability in the next election, Democratic leaders assigned the rookie to the powerful Armed Services Committee — Skelton's domain — on which he could get his hands directly on Navy shipbuilding plans. And with the help of more prominent members last year, the submarine production schedule was set for an increase.

(The Navy has built only one fast-attack submarine per year for a while, split between the yards of Electric Boat and a Virginia firm. The Navy's intention was to double that to two a year by 2012. But Courtney and other proponents argued that the strength of the fleet and the health of the submarine industry demanded an earlier increase. Congress tossed extra money into the budget and called for the Pentagon to move up the additional submarines. So far, it's moved to 2011, but Courtney is still trying for an earlier date.)

Armed Services Fixture

He actually got his first hard legislative training on an environmental effort, his Eightmile River bill, which he calls a "baptism by fire." It was supposed to be a routine bill to designate 25 miles of the river as "wild and scenic," lending it greater environmental protection. But it turned into a "donnybrook," Courtney says, acknowledging his bad pun. The Republicans, apparently spotting a chance to make a vulnerable Democrat's life harder, tried to block the bill. It was derailed on its first effort, but passed the second time around, though it now languishes in the Senate.

Another high point for Courtney was keeping the Senate from changing a cargo aircraft program that, according to some, could have delayed the state's Air National Guard from getting its next airplanes on time. Sometimes in Congress the goal is to stop something from happening. Courtney calls it "sort of a defensive victory."

But whatever other topics he pursues, he's become almost as much of a fixture in the big armed-services hearing room as the swords mounted on its walls, as much because of the epic waits for his turn to speak as the significance of his remarks (usually submarine related.) He sits for hours in a black leather chair behind his nameplate while colleagues fill the room with arguments about their own special corners of Pentagon influence. On the tiers of seating, his place is a few levels below Skelton's.

Feb. 6 saw a typical one of these patience-testing hearings. His five-minute turn came at 4:12 p.m. in a hearing that began at 1 p.m. When it was his time, he twisted expectation a bit by starting with a question on Iraq policy. Then, he settled into his groove. "The people in my district follow the shipbuilding schedule like a box score," he told Adm. Mike Mullen, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Courtney then told the highest military officer in the country that his building plan doesn't add up properly. There are too few ships to make the future fleet goal.

Mullen answered: "I really think the Navy has a good handle on that," though he didn't bother explaining how, because Courtney had a point.

The next congressman poked a little fun at Courtney as he started his own questions: "In Iowa, we don't have a submarine base."

Family And Money

Glory and overt acts of power are not the elements of day-to-day life on the Hill. Courtney regularly brings up the recent movie, " Charlie Wilson's War," and shakes his head at its portrayal of members enjoying posh living. Standing in his one-bedroom, basement apartment a few blocks from the Capitol, he jokes, "Here it is, Charlie Wilson, 2008."

It's a bit like a cave with carpeting. There's a small collection of books. One is "Daydream Believers," an indictment of Bush foreign policy that he says is "amazing." He adds, in a whisper, "Makes you angry."

There's a kitchen, but he's never cooked a meal there. He's big on English muffins — portable food. His refrigerator contains a jar with two olives. Often, Courtney opts for Pete's, a strange blend of diner and Chinese restaurant on the Hill.

The apartment has room for his two kids, Robert and Elizabeth, but usually, he's flying north at the end of each week to try to maintain a life with his family. (The flight is a good time for reading; "Your Blackberry doesn't work up there," Courtney says.)

He splits his weekend between family and events in the district. And amid the work and personal schedules, he also must fit in the never-ending requests for money — phone calls, dinners, etc. — because he wants to keep doing all of this.

His most recent financial filings in January show that Courtney had raised $1.3 million.

Of course, now that he's in this 435-member club, there is an eternal list of people waiting to ask him for something, too.

A number of them are at a recent conference for submarine builders and suppliers. And which House member is there at the eye-blinking start of its early breakfast? Courtney, though there's no time to sit down for breakfast, just for the coffee in his hand. He's an immediate magnet for Electric Boat President John Casey, who chats with him before Courtney takes a microphone.

Last year at this time, Courtney tells the group, he was still "trying to figure out where the furniture was." He says it hasn't been easy to push for gains. "This is a very, very competitive place." But he's clearly happy to be able to remind them that he helped get that submarine construction plan elevated. He calls that success an "inspiring, incredible message" — probably the only group to whom a boost in submarine building can be called inspiring without sounding odd.

He gives the industry people some advice about hitting the other members of Congress: "You have to repeat yourself over and over. Don't leave any stone unturned."

Courtney has followed his own advice, repeating himself over and over to Ike Skelton until the senior lawmaker has decided to come to Groton himself and take a look around.

On Friday, the two congressmen tour the factory on the Thames River. Courtney is bursting with praise for Skelton, thanking him for his help last year and for his visit now, talking about the "privilege of serving under Chairman Skelton as a freshman." Last year's effort is showing up on the job boards of local colleges, recruiting 400 new employees for Electric Boat.

In front of media, union leaders and company officials, Skelton returns the affection, saying, "He's a workhorse, and I just have to tell you, frankly, how proud I am of him." Getting things done in Congress isn't about the rules and process, he says. "So much of it is on relationships, trust."

"Joe, thank you," Skelton says on his way out.

Courtney shakes his hand and says, "This was terrific."

Contact Jesse A. Hamilton at jhamilton@courant.com.

For more news about politics and government, visit www.courant.com/politics, and Jesse A. Hamilton's blog at www.courant.com/background.






 

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