Dow, But Not Out

Despite the mild temperatures outside on the evening of Tuesday, August 18, Kells was so packed that the air inside the Irish bar became sticky and hot, pushing the young crowd, still in their office slacks, out into Post Alley. There, Dow Constantine emerged from a cluster of thrilled King County staffers for a breath of fresh air.

Constantine had fended off three other local Democrats to win a spot in the November 3 general election to become the next King County Executive, a seat most recently held on a permanent basis by Ron Sims. (Kurt Triplett, Sims' former chief of staff, has served on an interim basis since May 4, when Sims left to become Deputy Director of the Federal Department of Housing and Urban Development in Washington, D.C.) An elated Constantine was throwing out so many hugs that night, he had an arm around a reporter before realizing he was being asked a question about his victory, not just getting another congratulatory embrace. "I've been working at this every day for six months and two days now," he declared, a broad grin across his face.

But really, it had been longer than that. Two decades ago, Constantine turned to his fraternity brother, Christopher Benis, on a road trip and said that someday he would be mayor of Seattle. Since that trip, Constantine's political career has taken a few turns, veering first to Olympia, then to the county. He hasn't made that promised leap to city hall, but now Constantine is as close as he's ever been to running a governmental body.

To get there, Constantine will have to overcome a far greater challenge than any local Democrat running for the Executive position—now technically nonpartisan—has faced in years. (The last Republican to hold the office was Tim Hill, who served two terms before losing to Democrat Gary Locke in 1993.) Constantine is up against former KIRO-TV news anchor Susan Hutchison, who has several advantages: superior name recognition, appeal to voters east of Lake Washington, and ease in front of a camera. To top it off, she's also a King County outsider. While experience may have been an asset in the past, local political insiders say it does Constantine no favors to have been part of a county government that now faces seemingly insurmountable deficits in various departments, including those overseeing public health, flood control, and buses.

If Constantine is going to become the next King County Executive, he has to persuade voters that despite having voted for the budgets that have put the county into a deep financial mess, he can solve its problems. He also has to convince Eastsiders that he cares about their region's needs just as much as those of his native West Seattle. And he has to dissuade longtime county residents from voting for Hutchison, a woman they watched on television for more than two decades.

With Metro facing service cuts, the Green River threatening to flood, and swine flu back in the headlines, that's a tall order. And this time, Constantine can't rely on his base to win; he has to convince more than half of King County's 1.1 million voters that he's the best person for the job. (A recent poll shows Constantine and Hutchison in a virtual tie.)

Despite bearing a striking resemblance to David Duchovny, Constantine struggles with public appearances, not once cracking a smile in a video announcing his candidacy. "[Hutchison]'s a professional television personality; she's going to be better on camera," he concedes. "But I'm going to be better on substance."

"I voted for you!" gushes the cashier at Great Harvest Bread Company in the West Seattle Junction when Constantine orders a coffee. "I hope you go all the way." Constantine thanks her and takes his cup, but the pot is empty. When he tells the cashier, she apologizes profusely, promising to let him know right away when it's finished brewing. "They're fussing over me," he says as he sits down, looking a tad embarrassed.

Constantine is a son of West Seattle, the neighborhood that spawned Mayor Greg Nickels. He now lives not far from where he grew up on the peninsula, where he scored his first political victory running for student-body president at West Seattle High School.

Granted, no one was raking in donations from Big Pharma, but his opponent was the typical high-school jock, Constantine says. In contrast, Constantine's friends were mostly band nerds and honor students—who put stickers with his name, in the font of the Dow Chemical logo, on every single locker. By reaching beyond football players and cheerleaders, Constantine was able to cobble together a coalition and win. "[The King County Executive primary] kind of felt the same as that race," he says.

Christopher Benis met Constantine in 1980, their freshman year at the University of Washington. The pair, both Greek (not only ethnically—they joined Phi Kappa Sigma together), majored in political science and lived for long road trips and skiing. They became "joined at the hip for about 10 years," Benis says.

But while Benis was content simply to experience his four years of college, Constantine could never resist a chance to be in charge. At the fraternity, he chaired committees and emceed alumni dinners. In 1983, he successfully ran for house president. "He was no-nonsense, rap-the-gavel," Benis says. "He was the guy that could go out and talk to the police." Both men interned in the state legislature (Constantine for West Seattle Senator Phil Talmadge). But only Constantine seemed hell-bent on being a lawmaker someday.