Spruce Creek Conservatives

Thursday, October 17, 2025

Cheers!

First and foremost, I wrote this on Sunday, October 12, 2024 over a 12-hour period, and took a few hours to complete the draft over a four hours during an afternoon, a few days later.

Editing this book is a time-consuming process, and while I've completed part of it, much remains. If you'd like to receive updates, please send me an email with your contact information, and I’ll keep you informed as I progress. You can reach me at paul@paultruesdell.com for this purpose.

And yes, I said “draft.” There will undoubtedly be mistakes; however, I wanted to complete this before the November meeting of the Spruce Creek Preserve Conservatives meeting. I will review, revise, and update this book over the course of a few hours during Christmas, but for now, well, it is what it is.

Bear with and be kind.

I’m going to write in a casual business-professional style, intentionally using grammar stylizations that won’t align with legal or academic norms. To put it bluntly, too many people write far too formally for an informal setting. This is definitely an informal environment—far more conversational than academic. Writing like this doesn’t come naturally to me, given that my career and lifestyle have been centered on analysis, research, and forecasting. But I’ll do my best to make this as conversational as possible.

To reiterate, this version is intended specifically for those attending the conservatives' meeting.

Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to share this book and a few moments with you as one of your speakers in November.

Paul Grant Truesdell

Preface

A Lifetime in Politics and the Power of the Army of One

I thought about writing a book about my political experience for a few decades, I finally got around to it.

I've been immersed in the political process since the 1964 election, which brought Barry Goldwater to the forefront of national politics. As a child, I contributed to his campaign in a small but important way—serving cookies, snacks, coffee, and tea during gatherings my parents hosted at our home in Dallas. These informal events were not massive rallies, but rather the building blocks of a concept I call the “Army of One”, a phrase borrowed from the military. An army might consist of many people, but its effectiveness depends on the individual efforts of every single soldier. Similarly, in politics, real change happens when one person takes action, mobilizes others, and creates a ripple effect throughout the broader movement.

In my opinion, the recent election of Donald Trump as President and J.D. Vance as Vice President is the result of a well-run campaign. However, I believe most people don't fully grasp the profound impact of Joe Rogan's podcast. His three-hour interview with Donald Trump, along with similarly extensive interviews with Elon Musk and J.D. Vance, decisively influenced young male voters under 45—who represent the majority of Rogan's audience. Rogan’s reach surpasses that of any traditional television business or news channel, and his “Army of One” through podcasting fundamentally affected the election outcome.

Unfortunately, over the years, the “Army of One” concept has been misunderstood and, at times, demeaned by those who don’t grasp its importance or potential. But I've seen firsthand how powerful this idea can be. I’ve lived through and participated in the political process for decades, long enough to gain insight, witness trends, and experience the profound effects of individual commitment. My involvement spans nearly every decade of my life, except for the 1950s—because, let's face it, there’s not much one can do politically before the age of five. But from the 1960s to the present, I’ve seen political movements rise and fall, candidates come and go, and ideologies morph. What I’ve learned along the way is what I’m sharing in this book, not for recognition or praise, but to empower individuals who, like me, have felt the pull to get involved.

Take some time to consider President Donald Trump. It all began with him, as it always does—with the candidate contemplating a run, discussing the idea with others, and ultimately making the decision to step forward. This choice rests solely with the individual, reflecting a true “Army of One.” It starts with that initial spark of ambition, whether it’s driven by ingenuity, entrepreneurial spirit, the pursuit of power, or a commitment to serve and protect one's constituency—and, in this case, the nation.

This book is especially for those Republicans who are fed up with dysfunctional local county committees—organizations that should be the engine of grassroots political power but have instead become bogged down in petty politics, in-fighting, and chaos. If you’re reading this and feeling frustrated, you're not alone. The majority of people who truly understand the political process are just as fed up as you are. What many fail to realize is that lies, manipulations, and ineffective leadership are rampant in these committees. Often, people are drawn into volunteering for candidates and campaigning for issues, only to become disillusioned when they encounter power-hungry individuals who prioritize form over substance—people who care more about titles, positions, and appearances than they do about winning local elections or advancing the true principles of the Republican platform..

The harsh truth is this: engaging effectively in politics means turning your back on the crazies—those individuals who thrive on continuous bickering, threats, and petty social media battles. These people are not the future of the political process; they are the dead weight that drags it down. The best strategy for dealing with these characters is simple: ignore them. Refuse to engage in their drama. But when they persist, as they often do, and when they start to infect the broader organization with their antics, you need to take action. These individuals are like cockroaches—and, as in any infestation, the only way to deal with them is to stomp on them with extreme prejudice, using every tool and avenue available to you.

The goal of this book is not to promote hostility, but to empower the individual—to remind you that you have more power than you think. If you believe in Republican values, in the Constitution, and in the platforms of the state and national party, there’s work to be done, and it won’t happen by waiting for the dysfunctional elements of local politics to suddenly come to their senses. Change begins with the “Army of One”—that is, with you. In the pages that follow, you’ll learn some history and strategies and tactics for navigating the political process effectively, staying focused on long-term goals, and avoiding the pitfalls of engaging with the loud but often meaningless distractions that plague local politics.

Whether you're volunteering for a campaign, running for office, or simply trying to make a difference in your community, always remember that your power lies in your individual effort.

The world of politics can be ugly, but by sticking to core principles, keeping a clear head, and focusing on what really matters, you can achieve more than you ever thought possible.

Navigating University Politics and the Power of Individuality

In the 1970s, being a Republican on a university campus wasn’t exactly popular, especially in the aftermath of Richard Nixon’s resignation. At the time, the political landscape was marred by Watergate, and Republicans were in damage control mode, trying to rally behind Gerald Ford to win the presidency. But despite the challenges, my time at university was a fantastic experience. From start to finish, I had was at ground zero in terms of critical events that shaped my world view. Most importantly, I learned the hard way that the mindset of an “Army of One”—a concept that has guided me ever since, is real and practical.

During this period, I spent a lot of time attending Democratic events, engaged in opposition research as a campaign research analyst. I had the opportunity to witness the political personalities of the time: Jimmy Carter, Edmund Muskie, and George McGovern, to name a few. What struck me was how, despite the stark differences between the Republican and Democratic parties, there was a shared similarity in how events were conducted. Both parties relied on the same formula: charismatic speakers, enthusiastic audiences, and a belief in their political mission. As of November 10, 2024, Pat Buchanan is 86 years old and now retired. However, back in his active years, especially during the Nixon administration, he was prolific and engaged. That era was one of position papers—documents we wrote, read, and shared among those interested in serious discussion. Clearly, those days and the methods we used have changed dramatically.

The Republican Party had an air of defensiveness in those days—a side effect of Nixon’s resignation and the shadow of Watergate. The internal tension was palpable. This seems to be an ongoing struggle for the Republican Party, with notable exceptions being the presidencies and campaigns of Ronald Reagan and, more recently, Donald Trump. This is something that I believe the Democrats—and certainly those in the lame-stream media—are finding difficult to handle. Republicans are generally expected to remain on the defensive rather than go on the offensive. When Republicans do take an offensive stance, the media often reacts strongly, resorting to manipulation rather than true journalism and failing to prioritize the nation’s best interests.

One particular memory that sticks with me was attending a political event at American Serb Hall in Milwaukee, a historic venue known for hosting everything from wedding receptions to political rallies and fish fries. At the time, I met Harold Breier, then chief of the Milwaukee Police Department. Breier delivered a rousing speech defending his officers against allegations of excessive force, showcasing the kind of forceful public defense that becomes a part of political survival. It was during this time, as a political science student, that I started to see the connections between communications and politics—how they intertwined, and how controlling the narrative was just as important as policy itself.

While at university, I was part of the College Republicans, and unlike today’s well-funded organizations, we had no financial support. We were relegated to a literal closet to conduct our business, a far cry from the large offices that many social causes and more radical political groups enjoyed. Frustrated by the lack of resources and the constant bickering within the group, I decided that something had to change. The endless internal debates—whether about the Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty (SALT) that Gerald Ford was negotiating, or the fears over Japanese automobiles destroying Detroit—seemed pointless when we had no money or strategy to engage voters.

That’s when I came up with a fundraising idea called “Who Do You Hate the Most?”, designed to bring in cash for our struggling chapter. I realized that Nixon was still hated by many on campus, so I took it upon myself to create a public poll with chalkboards and whiteboards placed one on top of the other in the large, open five story, student commons. For five cents, students could vote for the person whose name appeared on the board, or post a name of someone they hated the most—whether it was Nixon, Jimmy Carter, or Henry Maier, the mayor of Milwaukee at the time, or me. And yes, I got a few votes and I smiled when counting the nickels. In no time, the money started pouring in. It wasn’t just politicians who drew ire—students began paying to “vote” for professors they despised. One engineering professor, in particular, became a favorite target. When a graduate student handed me $300 just to see his professor at the top of the list, I realized we had tapped into something far bigger than a simple campus poll.

This exercise not only raised funds for our organization, The College Republicans, but the entire event showed me the power of free speech. The university administration wasn’t thrilled, and one professor threatened to sue me, but I didn’t back down. When a local TV station interviewed me about the controversy, I made it clear: we were simply engaging people politically in a way that resonated with them, and it wasn’t my fault that the administration refused to provide us the resources to function like other groups. While the Democrats, Black Liberation, and Gay groups had private offices with hundreds of square feet, we were given a closet. We needed the money to rent space since the university was playing political hardball with us. So the idea of who do you hate the most came from our (well, my) disgust for the university administration. The legal threats eventually dissipated, and to my surprise, the professors who made the board (except for one) mostly found humor in the situation. They respected the boldness of my approach, many contributed ten and twenty dollar bills to have fun with their co-workers, and it taught me a crucial lesson: never let people intimidate you and the power of an “Army of One.”

In 1975, we raised over $10,000. Adjusted for inflation, this amount is equivalent to approximately $58,606.13 in 2024 dollars. This calculation is based on an average annual inflation rate of 3.67% over 49 years, resulting in a cumulative price increase of 486.06%. Think about that for a moment. Here’s someone under 18, who graduates high school early, heads to college, and gets a college ID, which grants him access to bars and other facilities typically reserved for adults. This same person—me—then manages to raise the equivalent of nearly $60,000 today because the college Republican leadership lacked the courage to do what was needed. So I said, “No, we’re not going to just take this,” and decided to stir things up and get creative. Now, think about that, and you’ll see why I gravitate toward leaders like Ronald Reagan and Donald Trump. I have no patience for those who shout down others with differing opinions, and I certainly have no respect for those who run political organizations as if they’re their personal fiefdoms or as petty tyrants.

What I learned through this experience is that people in positions of authority—whether they’re university professors, political leaders, or business moguls—are not so different from anyone else. They have their own insecurities, vices, and moments of weakness. As I would later learn in law enforcement, even the most powerful individuals can crumble when faced with the right circumstances. Whether it’s politicians, wealthy business elites, or everyday citizens, everyone has to deal with the same basic human conditions—the messy, flawed reality of life.

In the political process, this realization is empowering. Once you understand that those who claim authority are just as fallible as anyone else, the fear of confrontation disappears. This allows you to move forward with confidence, as an “Army of One”, knowing that no one is too powerful to challenge. It’s about focusing on the core principles and understanding that, ultimately, people are just people—no matter how much power or influence they wield.

And, as I witnessed firsthand, when people feel insecure—especially in politics—they lash out. Whether it’s the professor who tried to sue me for a campus poll or the Republican Party leaders I encountered later in life who screamed and raged when they felt their positions were threatened, insecurity in politics often leads to destructive behavior. In 2024, I saw this again, when a chairperson of a political committee shouted down the vice chair, who happened to be the president of a local Republican club with a large following. This vice chair was one of the most professional, well-liked people I had ever met—a “nice guy” in the truest sense. But the chairperson couldn’t handle the insecurity they felt in the presence of someone who actually knew how to lead effectively and grow a Republican club. It was a sad, but all too common, example of how political power can bring out the worst in people, especially two bit players.

These experiences, from my early university days to my more recent encounters with local political organizations, have taught me a crucial lesson: stand firm, be independent, and never let the chaos around you dictate your actions. As an “Army of One”, you control your own destiny, and the opinions of those who try to intimidate or silence you are meaningless. Everyone has their weaknesses, and as long as you remain focused on your goals, no one can stand in your way.

Being involved in the political process means accepting that people are flawed—and often, deeply so. Whether it's watching a fancy politician or lame-stream talking head lose their temper or seeing a high-level academic crumble under public scrutiny, the lesson is always the same: never be afraid. Everyone, no matter how powerful they seem, has their moments of vulnerability, and they can be challenged. At the end of the day, politics, like life, is full of imperfections, but those imperfections are where the real power lies.

While at university, I had the opportunity to meet not only Gerald Ford, but Ronald Reagan. I was a big Reagan supporter and was also a member of the Young Americans for Freedom. Meeting Reagan left a lasting impression on me—his smile and handshake were exactly the same in person as they were on television when he eventually defeated President Carter four years later. This was also the time when I first crossed paths with Roger Stone in Washington, D.C. The Roger Stone I met in the 1970s is the same Roger Stone we know today—charismatic and a force of nature in political strategy. I will discuss Roger Stone more, later on.

Back then, we didn’t have social media or memes like today, but we did have position papers, and we actually read and wrote them. The campaign materials were different too—our form of "viral marketing" was through buttons. I still remember seeing "Serbs for Ford," "Germans for Ford," and "Italians for Ford" buttons as part of the Republican campaigns. Milwaukee was a very diverse city, with nearly every ethnic group represented, so it wasn’t unusual to see buttons catering to every possible demographic. In fact, one of the most interesting innovations I encountered was the use of peel and stick-on paper buttons during Susan Shannon Engeleiter's race against Jim Sensenbrenner—a real shift from the traditional metal pins we all used to wear.

What exactly is a peel-and-stick paper button? Think of it like the "I Voted" sticker you get when you vote here in Florida. Back then, everyone used metal buttons with clips that would poke holes in your shirt—something a lot of people weren’t thrilled about since it could ruin a good shirt. So, this peel-and-stick design was a real innovation. I first saw it in the Engeleiter campaign that I was heavily involved in, and it was a big improvement and made a noticeable difference.

Susan Shannon Engeleiter was a young, dynamic force in Wisconsin politics and someone I greatly admired. Not only did she go on to serve as the first female Administrator of the U.S. Small Business Administration, but she also was the youngest woman ever elected to the Wisconsin Legislature at just 22 years old. As the precinct coordinator for her campaign, I learned many lessons about the difficulties of political life, from raising funds to handling the internal battles that always seem to arise in campaigns.

It was during this time that I first saw how county chairmen and political operatives could be particularly cutthroat. One instance involved a county where we had expected to perform well, but the results were disappointing. We later learned that an individual who was suppose to be neutral and obligated to distribute material on an equal basis for all candidates, was actually working for the Sensenbrenner team. We had be infiltrated, so to speak, by a rogue County Chairperson who was suppose to be unbiased. These experiences underscored how internal sabotage can undermine a campaign, and it was a hard lesson in the realities of political strategy. Back then, just like today, you’d see a county Republican Party committee chairperson who’s supposed to be loyal to the party but ends up promoting one candidate over another. That’s a blatant violation of their oath of office. They should never involve themselves in favoring one candidate over another, which is exactly what I witnessed here in Marion County during a special election. This issue isn’t unique to Marion; in almost every county, committee executives lose sight of their duties. Instead of staying focused on the party’s mission, they get caught up in petty local personality issues. I found it disgusting then, and I find it just as disgusting now. It’s always refreshing when these people end up in the political trash heap where they belong.

Despite the tough campaign loss, Engeleiter went on to have a successful career and remains one of the nicest and most professional individuals I’ve ever met. What I took from this experience was the importance of staying focused and committed, no matter the setbacks. It reinforced my belief in the concept of the “Army of One”—that sometimes, you have to rely on your own initiative and effort to move forward, no matter what obstacles stand in your way.

Navigating University Politics, Iconic Encounters, and the Foundations of Political Strategy

In the 1970s, being a Republican on a university campus was not for the faint of heart. The political climate in the aftermath of Richard Nixon’s resignation was tense, and many on the left were eager to paint all Republicans with the same brush. As the country grappled with the fallout from Watergate, Republicans were left to repair the party’s image, and many young people, including myself, were caught in the middle of it all.

During this time, Gerald Ford was attempting to win the presidency on his own merit after being thrust into office following Nixon’s resignation. Ford was a figure of calm and steadiness in a nation desperate for stability, but he faced an uphill battle. The country was deeply divided, and many were still reeling from the Vietnam War and civil rights protests, which had radicalized a significant portion of the electorate. Meanwhile, Ronald Reagan was emerging as a new voice for the conservative movement, and I was fortunate enough to witness his rise firsthand.

At university, I got the opportunity to meet Gerald Ford while the President of the college Republicans. He was a pragmatic leader who had inherited a wounded nation. He had the unenviable task of trying to unite a fractured country after his much needed pardon of Richard Nixon. Ford did his best to retain the office he had not been elected to. Ford’s presidency was one of quiet competence, but in a world dominated by charisma and public perception, it wasn’t enough to win a term on his own.

More importantly, it was during these formative years that I had the chance to meet Ronald Reagan—the man who would come to define modern conservatism. While some saw Reagan as a washed-up actor from Hollywood, those of us involved in the movement and campaign, knew better. Reagan had the ability to communicate like no other. His warm, affable demeanor could disarm even the staunchest of critics, and his policies, rooted in economic conservatism and anti-communism, resonated deeply with young Republicans like me.

I was also a member of the Young Americans for Freedom (YAF), a conservative youth organization founded in 1960 that had been instrumental in Barry Goldwater’s campaign. YAF was a breeding ground for future Republican leaders and provided a network for young conservatives at a time when being one was often socially isolating on college campuses. Through YAF, I attended rallies, distributed campaign materials, and helped mobilize other young conservatives. Reagan, who would later become an icon of the conservative movement, embodied everything we were working toward: a future where individual liberty, free-market principles, and limited government were paramount.

As previously mentioned, it was also during this period that I first encountered Roger Stone, a man who would go on to become one of the most controversial and influential political strategists of the modern era. Roger Stone is a political operative, consultant, and lobbyist whose career has been marked by bold tactics, colorful language, and a penchant for controversy. Stone's association with Republican politics dates back to the Nixon administration, and he became known for his “dirty tricks” during the Watergate scandal. When I met him in Washington, D.C., he was already making a name for himself as a strategist unafraid to play on the darker side of politics.

What struck me about Stone back then was the fact that his demeanor never seemed to change. Whether we were discussing Nixon, Reagan, or future campaign strategies, Stone exuded confidence. He was the same back then as the Roger Stone we saw decades later, as a Trump spokesperson and campaign confidant, on TV—larger than life, unashamed of his tactics, and completely focused on winning at all costs. The Roger Stone I met and have observed from a distance is no different from James Caravelle of the Democratic Party. Both of them understand that, at the end of the day, all that matters is the win. When you're a political operative, it's only about the win—it's not about governing, or doing what’s right for the nation or for the jurisdiction, whether it's a congressional district or a Senate seat. It always comes down to one thing: did you win or lose?

His controversial methods may have turned off many within the party, but he was undeniably effective. Stone's career would be punctuated by various legal battles, including his 2019 conviction for witness tampering and lying to Congress during the investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election. Despite his conviction, he remained a key ally of Donald Trump, and his eventual pardon by Trump in December 2020 only added to his mystique.

Back in the 1970s, however, none of us could have predicted the twists and turns Stone's career would take, but even then, his talent for political strategy was evident.

The Reagan Smile: Charisma Personified

Meeting Reagan in person is something I’ll never forget. It wasn’t just his policies that drew people to him; it was his charisma. Reagan had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the room. A smile, a handshake, and a few words from him left a lasting impression. He was someone who could connect with people on a deeply personal level, and that’s why he became the face of the Republican Party in the years to come, and I continue to be honored to have been a youth coordinator volunteer in his campaign in Wisconsin.

The same smile I saw in person back then was the one America would come to love when Reagan finally ascended to the presidency in 1980, defeating President Jimmy Carter in a landslide. Reagan’s ability to unite the Republican Party, inspire voters across the political spectrum, and implement his vision of "Reaganomics"—a blend of tax cuts, deregulation, and military spending—cemented his legacy as one of the most influential presidents of the 20th century. Having finished two terms as Governor of California it was clear to me—and to many others—that Reagan was destined for the presidency. Little did I know back then that I'd end up as part of President Reagan's security detail when he traveled to Tampa, undergoing several background checks by the Secret Service. It may sound like a minor detail, but being the officer in charge, stationed with a Secret Service agent at Tampa General Hospital on standby in case of a medical emergency, is something I still look back on with a little smile and a head nod, thinking, "That was cool." And by the way, a few critical components in the selection process included: physical fitness, professional appearance, and ranking as a Master (the highest level) with your sidearm.

Buttons, Stickers, and the Evolution of Campaign Tactics

Political campaigns in those days were far simpler than today’s technology-driven, meme-filled operations. We didn’t have social media, we didn’t have sophisticated data analytics, and we certainly didn’t have viral memes. What we had were position papers, buttons and knuckles to knock on doors.

Now, back to Susan. Engeleiter’s career was impressive. Born in Brookfield, Wisconsin, her father was a Republican fundraiser, and she quickly followed in his footsteps. After graduating from the University of Wisconsin–Madison, she went on to become the youngest person elected to the Wisconsin Legislature at 22 years old. She served in the Wisconsin State Assembly from 1974 to 1979 and later in the Wisconsin State Senate, where she became the first woman to serve as Minority Leader. Although she narrowly lost her bid for Congress in 1978 to Jim Sensenbrenner by 589 votes, she continued to have a distinguished career in public service. In 1988, Engeleiter ran for the U.S. Senate seat vacated by William Proxmire. She won the GOP primary against state chairman Steve King, who criticized her as a moderate. Facing Democrat Herb Kohl in the general election, she had a close race, with President Reagan even visiting Milwaukee to support her. However, Engeleiter lost to Kohl, 52% to 48%. Shortly after, President George H.W. Bush appointed her as Administrator of the Small Business Administration, making her the first woman in the role. She also chaired the National Women's Business Council and served on the President's Export Council. After the SBA, she became VP of Government Affairs at Honeywell (1992–1998).

Side note: Through a series of unique employment opportunities, I got to know the president of Kohl's Food Stores, which eventually became the Kohl's we know today. The head of the family, Herbert Kohl, interviewed me and offered me a management position at a Waukegan, Illinois store, despite knowing I was a Republican and actively involved in politics. He didn’t care about that; for him, it was about getting the job done. I had evidently impressed him enough for him to extend the offer to me at a young age. So, when people get overly worked up about political affiliations and candidates, sometimes it’s best to take a deep breath and relax. Off-camera, many people turn out to be decent human beings. The ones who aren’t are usually those who are narcissistic and always quick to shout others down.

Jim Sensenbrenner, on the other hand, would go on to represent Wisconsin's 5th Congressional District from 1979 until his retirement in 2021. Sensenbrenner’s political career was marked by his staunch conservatism and his long tenure in Congress, where he held influential positions such as Chairman of the House Judiciary Committee and Chairman of the House Science Committee. He was known for his work on immigration reform and privacy rights, and while he wasn’t the most charismatic politician, his persistence and loyalty to his constituents made him a fixture in Wisconsin politics for decades.

The impeachment trial of President Bill Clinton began in the U.S. Senate on January 7, 1999, following his impeachment by the House of Representatives on December 19, 1998, on charges of perjury and obstruction of justice. The trial concluded with Clinton’s acquittal on February 12, marking the second impeachment trial of a U.S. president, the first being Andrew Johnson.

The House managers who led the case were:

- Henry Hyde (IL) – Lead Manager

- Bob Barr (GA)

- Ed Bryant (TN)

- Steve Buyer (IN)

- Charles Canady (FL)

- Chris Cannon (UT)

- Steve Chabot (OH)

- George Gekas (PA)

- Lindsey Graham (SC)

- Asa Hutchinson (AR)

- Bill McCollum (FL)

- James E. Rogan (CA)

- Jim Sensenbrenner (WI)

Sensenbrenner, someone I knew well years ago, played a significant role in this historic trial.

Floridian Bill McCollum, a key House manager during Clinton's impeachment trial, had a distinguished career in both state and national politics. Representing Florida's 8th congressional district from 1981 to 2001, he focused on national security and judicial reform, establishing himself as a committed conservative and influential Republican. After leaving Congress, McCollum pursued higher office, running for the U.S. Senate in 2000 and 2004, though both bids were unsuccessful. In 2006, McCollum was elected as Florida's Attorney General, serving from 2007 to 2011. During his tenure, he worked on issues like consumer protection and Medicaid fraud and led a high-profile legal challenge against the Affordable Care Act on behalf of Florida. In 2010, he ran for Governor of Florida but narrowly lost in the Republican primary to Rick Scott. Despite these setbacks, McCollum's lengthy public service and involvement in high-stakes races solidified his role as a significant figure in Florida politics and the national Republican Party.

Like many former elected officials, lobbying and governmental relations (the art and science of connections) is where many land. Former Florida Attorney General and Congressman Bill McCollum Co-Chairs Dentons' US State Attorney General Practice. Dentons is a governmental affairs entity in Washington, DC that provides a range of services to help clients navigate the political, economic, and regulatory landscape. His practice focuses on corporate compliance and investigations; complex state legal, regulatory and legislative matters; state anti-trust law enforcement; multi-state investigations and litigation; public policy; and advising and assisting companies with disruptive new technologies. He has represented and consulted for companies from a variety of industries with manufacturing and other business interests in Asia, Europe, the Middle East and Latin America.

A Glimpse into the Life of a Political Operative

It was during Engeleiter’s campaign that I first came face-to-face with the grueling reality of political life. I served as a precinct coordinator, which meant managing volunteers, organizing canvassing efforts, and rallying support. It was also the first time I met a full-time, paid political operative—the campaign manager. This guy was about 10 years older than me, and he opened my eyes to what life as a professional political operative really entailed. He didn’t have a permanent home, lived out of hotels and spare bedrooms, and moved from campaign to campaign, taking his wife and child with him. It was a nomadic lifestyle, and while he was happy doing it, I couldn’t imagine the toll it must take.

Campaign managers are often the unsung heroes of political campaigns. They’re the ones behind the scenes, making sure the gears turn smoothly while the candidate is out front. But when things go wrong, they’re often the first to be blamed. After we lost one particularly important county in the campaign, tensions were high. As I previously mentioned, the county chairman we had trusted to deliver materials to county precinct committee members had been secretly working for the Sensenbrenner campaign the entire time. It was a betrayal of one’s office that hit hard, and Engeleiter’s husband was furious. He blamed me for not seeing the signs, for trusting the wrong people, but the reality is that political campaigns are full of bad actors. From Susan to the most part-time volunteer, we missed the snake in the room. The difference between the candidate’s husband and the campaign manger and myself, we accepted defeat and moved on, acknowledging that Jim got the better of us. It is what is is.

Side Note: Some people use the phrase "snake in the room" during speeches about candidates. Often, these are the very people who, when they look in the mirror, know they're looking at a snake themselves. As FIRE Brand Republicans—Fiercely Independent Republicans Engaged—remember that not all snakes fit the stereotype of the Wicked Witch of the West, either in looks or voice; however, some fit the bill perfectly.