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It's April 18, and the view from the podium in the Westin Hotel's Grand Ballroom tells Greg Nickels it's a beautiful morning.
From his perch, the candidate can see 1,000 faces waiting for the good word from their chosen contender for Seattle mayor. The opening acts (Nate Miles' political impersonations and a comedy routine by Greg's teenagers, Jake, 19, and Carey, 18) have been well received—now it's up to Nickels to cap the occasion with a powerhouse speech.
Instead, we get a straightforward tribute to the "Seattle Way," Nickels' description of a community that works together and does things properly. "It's waiting on a street corner in driving rain until the light changes before crossing," intones Nickels. "Waiting for the light is part of the Seattle Way."
The crowd listens politely. The pundits yawn. A Seattle Times report dismisses the theme as "sugary." But this year, it may be a political masterstroke.
Incumbent Mayor Paul Schell sees Seattle as the world-class city of the future, a south-of-the-border Vancouver, B.C. City Attorney Mark Sidran positions himself as a would-be Rudy Giuliani and Seattle as a potential New York City looking for a steadying influence. West Seattle kid Nickels waxes rhapsodic about people standing at stoplights and sharing the harvest from their P-Patch garden plot. In a different town—or in a different year—his safety-patrol-member act would peg Nickels as a minor leaguer. In Seattle 2001, though, this nice guy sounds like a winner. Finally, Seattle may be ready for Greg Nickels.
Greg Nickels is many things people say they don't like in politicians. First of all, he's a careerist—he's never worked as anything but a political aide or an officeholder. And he's more about nuts and bolts (dare we say "Gore-like) than flashy and charismatic. But now that looks like an advantage.
Three early and limited surveys of Seattle voters showed Nickels with a 2 to 5 percent lead on the field. One even predicted that Nickels would whip Schell by an amazing 20 percentage points in a head-to-head race.
Much has been made of Schell's and Sidran's money-raising skills, yet the most recent election report found Nickels leading in that most crucial of tallies, cash on hand (Nickels' bank account shows $131,143, as compared to $95,727 for Sidran and $114,977 for Schell).
Nickels, 46, isn't surprised he's doing so well in the money race. As developer Schell's political inexperience plagued him throughout his first term, Nickels thinks Seattle voters want to end Amateur Hour at City Hall. "In a lot of elections, the fact that I've spent my life in local government would be a negative," he says. "In this election, that's not true."
Schell has raised more money overall, but Nickels has received donations from more people (he has 1,894 campaign contributors, as compared to Schell's 890 and Sidran's 983), a figure that he uses to establish his campaign's grassroots credentials, and contrast himself with wealthy developer Schell and tough-guy lawyer Sidran.
Politics has filled Nickels' adult life. At age 19, he left political science studies at the University of Washington to work in government. The longtime aide to (then-council member) Norm Rice made an unsuccessful run for Seattle School Board in 1983 before in 1987 becoming the youngest person to earn election to the King County Council (as a 32-year-old). He's been re-elected to his seat three times, and made unsuccessful runs for King County Executive and Seattle mayor.
No Seattle mayor has lost a race for re-election in the last 50 years, but Schell's approval ratings have lingered below 30 percent since the December 1999 World Trade Organization fiasco. Nickels saved a few unkind words in his kickoff speech for Sidran ("A man who doesn't offer a vision, but division"), but he's focusing his campaign on presenting himself an alternative to Schell—a more competent, homespun version of the sometimes in-over-his-head incumbent.
He's already drawn the nod from a major Boeing union, Aerospace Machinists Local 751, and the Seattle-King County Association of Realtors, while earning a dual endorsement (with Schell) from the Washington Conservation Voters. The King County Labor Council found its membership split between Nickels and Schell, so the group declined to issue a pre-primary endorsement for either candidate.
NICKELS' LOW-KEY STYLE as a County Council member has been a hit with many constituents.
On a recent Saturday morning, the earnest candidate faces an audience of 10 neighborhood residents at the Cascade People's Center before a neighborhood tour. "We are going to have to fix our transportation system—it is broken," he says. "We are choking on the region's traffic.
"We've also got to build the monorail. Voters have already told us twice they want us to build the monorail."
This is Greg's kind of audience. He's at his best in small groups and one-on-one—the kind of guy who looks you in the eye when you speak and nods when you make a point. While not a world-class podium speaker, Nickels' amiable delivery stands in sharp contrast to Schell's joyless approach and Sidran's tendency to lecture.
Nickels' self-declared political role model is former Seattle City Council member George Benson. A neighborhood druggist by profession, Benson prided himself on his common touch. Nickels likes to tell audiences about the construction of the downtown bus tunnel—Benson would walk the route every Friday, talking to merchants and recording their complaints in his pocket notebook. As mayor, Nickels says he would take a similar approach of listening to people and paying attention to details.
