Legislature a challenge-Kerby

BONNERS FERRY — Serving Bonners Ferry as mayor and  councilman for 28 years did not prepare Darrell Kerby to be a temporary Idaho senator.

Kerby was called upon in early March to fulfill a promise he never imagined he would one day have to keep — filling in for Sen. Shawn Keough during the Idaho Legislature’s final month.

“Senator (Shawn) Keough asked me many times over her years in office if I'd be willing to step in should something call her away,” he said. “It was certainly an honor, and naturally I said 'yes,' but I never thought the day would come when I'd be needed.”

Twelver hours after Keough called him from Kootenai Medical Center after her husband, Mike, suffered a heart attack that day came for Kerby.

 He went from being a small town businessman to full-time representative of Idaho's District 1 in the Idaho Senate in Boise. The two worlds, he said, are far apart.

Kerby’s one or  trips a year to Boise to promote community issues did not help him.

 “Very little prepared me for what I walked into,” he said. “Being in that chair is significantly different than observing that chair.”

Not only was he thrown into the cauldron with no time to prepare himself for the role, he was thrown in during the last month of an arduous, historic session to fill the shoes of someone he considers to be an extraordinary legislator.

“Senator Keough is not an average Senator, if there is such a thing,” he said. “She is vice-chair of the Joint Finance and Appropriations Committee, which sets every budget for every department in the State of Idaho. Because she was in that position, so was I.”

He was thrown into an arena dealing with some gut-wrenching budget dilemmas and a constitutional requirement that the state's budget be balanced.

“Because of the historic nature of the economic decline, we were beyond looking for new ideas and ways to do things to being in survival mode,” he said, and there was no shortage of tough decisions to be made.

While it was a difficult session for senators elected to office, it was much more difficult for one who dropped in after much of the groundwork had been laid.

“In September, the governor called the joint finance committees from the House and Senate in when he realized how bleak the budget looked,” he said. “They had been working for months, and by the time I got there, the train had left the station and it was on the main line. I didn't have the luxury of getting assignments or orientation on the way the Senate works, on the decorum that's involved.”

Not only did he have to bring himself up to speed on the schedules and myriad bills he was expected to vote on, he had to learn on the job how the Senate works, how to properly address that august body, how to effectively make his voice heard.

And, like most small-town folk suddenly cast into that larger world outside their own, he said he was awestruck by the beauty and opulence of the “people's house” in which he served the people.

This was the first legislative session to take place within the newly remodeled state capitol, and where all other senators and representatives had received the grand tour at the start of the legislative session, one of the first questions he had to ask Senator Keough as he fell into his new role was, “where is the bathroom?”

Then there was the long but sudden step of going from being a contented businessman in his hometown, dressing each day in nice but casual clothes, to becoming again a representative of his neighbors, one this time required to wear a suit each day.

“On the way down, I thought it would be like a substitute teacher going into a new classroom, with a prepared lesson plan,” he said.

“But I was overwhelmed by the honor of becoming the State Senator representing District 1. I was almost sickened when President Pro Tempore Bob Geddes swore me in and immediately explained that I was not a substitute, but a full blown Senator, with all the rights and responsibilities of that office. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Putting on the suit was kind of like putting on a uniform. It made me aware of the gravity of what I was doing.”

He didn't face the challenge alone, though. He was in regular contact throughout his tenure with Keough, who kept in touch by e-mail and instant messages, often from her husband's side in the hospital.

His fellow Senators, he said, were always there to give him the benefit of their experience, as were many behind-the-scenes staffers.

What Kerby that not one of those Senators try to convince him to vote on any way on any bill, instead giving him the facts of each as they knew them, their arguments for or against and debate based on logic and merit.

“I came away very surprised by that,” he said. “I expected I'd be cajoled into voting a certain way on certain legislation, but I saw none of that. I can't speak for the House, as I wasn't there, but in the Senate, the respect for the integrity of your vote was placed above all else. There were no 'smoky back rooms,' even in caucus.

“As an Idaho citizen, I came away flabbergasted at how much integrity our Senate has. It's almost impossible not to have your voice heard. I have high regard for the well educated, highly motivated Senators I worked with.”

He believes the integrity he witnessed first hand is due to the moral character of those in leadership positions.

Right after telling him where the bathroom was, Keough passed along a pearl of wisdom, but Kerby found out she'd watered it down just a bit.

“She said going into the Senate would be like drinking out of a fire hose,” he said. “A fire hose is only, what, three inches? I discovered it was more like taking a drink out of the 16-inch Myrtle Creek main.”

Not only did he face making additional cuts to departments already pared to the bone, he faced three constitutional amendments and other legislation, some 400 or more in all, that took hours to understand.

Staying at his daughter's home in Meridian, he began every day at about 3 a.m., bringing himself up to speed on the day's schedule, on the intricacies of the legislation to be considered, on the vote by the House and other detail. He then drove to Boise, made his way to his assigned parking space and to his office, where he continued to pore over bills and budgets until it was time to appear on the Senate floor.

Despite his nervousness, he was never given the chance to ease in.

On his second week there, he was handed the gavel by finance committee chair Dean Cameron to carry the state budget to the floor and try to convince the Senate to pass it, his first experience presiding in that rarefied air.

It is a budget that will be felt by every Idahoan in the coming year, he said, because of the necessity of cutting back needed services in nearly every sector, from Health and Welfare to the Idaho State Police.

“Every Idahoan will see the service levels go backwards,” he said, “but we did balance the budget without raising taxes on an unemployed population. Hopefully, it will set the stage for a quicker recovery in our state, and see people going back to work sooner.

“Idaho retained a stable environment for business, with stable rules. We cut state government across the board while trying to maintain services at the best levels possible. The big picture is that Idaho will get back on its feel while other states will struggle to recover.”

Another thing that took some getting used to, he said, was the respect accorded the title he carried, however briefly. One morning, the phone at his Senate floor desk rang and he whispered, “Senator Kerby.”

“Kerby, this is Butch!” was the response from Idaho Governor Butch Otter, asking his help on a matter being considered.

He worked to sponsor amending a bill giving physicians who recommend taking driving privileges away from those with illnesses or injuries that make them unsafe behind the wheel, granting them immunity from lawsuit. He garnered so many e-mail messages from AARP members who thought he was trying to hinder senior citizens’ rights to drive that the server was overloaded and shut down.

The next day they sheepishly learned the bill was already on the books and was only being amended. By the time he got back to his office after that session, he said, his in-box was again full from AARP members thanking him for his support. 

While he came to enjoy his time in Boise and the trappings of being a state Senator, he said he's in no hurry for a return trip.

“It was a great privilege to be able to serve, but a heavy responsibility,” he said. It's an experience I wouldn't trade, but it's hard to describe to someone who hasn't sat in the chair.”

And there was nothing to compare to the joy of returning home after the session adjourned, he said.

“The morning I got home I walked to work down the South Hill,” he said, “and people were waving and honking, as we do in Bonners Ferry. After being in Boise for a month, it seemed like everyone was welcoming me back. By the time I reached the big flag, back in God's country where there are no second class citizens, I had tears in my eyes. I don't know if it was from the wind or what. I feel like I lived a lifetime in that month.”