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"You Plead, You Push, You Cajole Every Day"
by Mike Tongour

Legal Times
(August 5, 2002)



The catalyst for my legal career in Washington was fear. I began practicing law in South Carolina in 1981, originally in a small firm, and then as a sole practitioner. My practice in the domestic relations area started to expand. That certainly wasn't one of my life goals. Increasingly, I feared that my epitaph would read: "Here lies a Columbia, South Carolina divorce attorney."

In 1983, I was visiting my sister in Washington. I fell in love with the city and its pace. During a layover on the way home, I ran into a law school classmate who told me about his wonderful life as a congressional staffer. I was easily convinced, and asked him to call me if he ever had any leads for jobs on the Hill. To my surprise, he called me two years later---to advise me of a position available as an attorney on the staff of Senator Thurmond.

Two problems: I had been actively involved in Democratic party politics my whole life. Secondly, even if I were hired, Senator Thurmond was already 82! How much longer would he be around? Despite my lack of GOP credentials, the senator gave me a chance (for which I'll be ever grateful). And seventeen years later, Senator Thurmond has made the Energizer bunny look like an also ran.

I gained a lot of good Hill experience, initially as Senate Labor Committee Counsel and then as Legislative Director to Sen. Thurmond. After 2 years, I joined a South Carolina-based law firm as an associate to Emory Sneeden, a great friend of Thurmond and a former judge on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 4th Circuit. Sneeden had stepped down from the court and was managing this very successful D.C. government relations office. Problem: Two weeks after I began work there, he died. As did most of the firm's D.C. lobbying business.

Fortunately, then-Sen. Alan Simpson was looking for a Chief Counsel in his capacity as Assistant Republican Leader (otherwise known as the GOP Whip). Simpson was funny, popular, and a highly respected legislative leader. Aided by Senator Thurmond's reference, I was offered the position.

It was the most fun I've ever had in a job. I watched policy being made, learned a lot about legislative strategy and vote counting. I also learned a lot about arcane Senate floor procedure and was among the few staffers entitled to attend "Senators Only" meetings. Simpson was and continues to be very independent, and in the Western vernacular, "ornery." I often described my job for him as a "key adviser to a guy who doesn't take key advice."

In 1994, every GOP incumbent in Congress won re-election in a tidal wave that brought the Republicans to the majority in both houses for the first time in nearly 50 years. Problem: A majority of the newly elected Republican senators voted for Sen. Trent Lott (R-Miss.) over Al Simpson for Whip. Simpson lost his leadership post by one vote, and I was looking for a job again.

In a way, it was a great time for a GOP staffer to be seeking work in the private sector. Companies and associations were looking for additional Republican help, but most GOP staffers wanted to stay on the Hill and taste what it felt like to be in the majority. As with my "real" law career, my lobbying career began with a small firm. And again, I wanted to be my own boss, so within a year I went out "on my own."

Now I've been a lobbyist since 1995. Since 1996, I've been the managing partner of a small firm. Two years ago, my former boss Al Simpson became my business partner. Because of his prestige, I wanted to give him top billing. He demurred and said: "Let's call it Tongour Simpson. That will be a good signal to everyone that I don't intend to do too much!" Translation: He didn't want to be perceived by his former colleagues as a "lobbyist." No matter how you "cut it," being a lobbyist means that you're a petitioner. It's hard to do that and maintain the same type of relationships with your former colleagues.

Nevertheless, lobbying is a pretty good way to make a living. Day in and day out, I find it more interesting than the practice of domestic relations law. The real challenge is to provide additional value to your clients in a system where the individual lobbyist doesn't have control over the big factors, and where "value" itself is hard to quantify and to access.

Good lobbying days don't happen frequently, but I had one a couple of months ago on the energy bill. After nearly four years of trying to enact hydroelectric licensing reform, all negotiations on the Senate side were moribund. For several months, I had advocated a floor amendment strategy. Eventually it became clear that, although this was risky, it was the only option left. I spent a great deal of time working to helping to draft the amendment, rounding up the votes, and providing our Senate champions with accurate vote counts, strategy, and information. On the Senate floor, our Democrat sponsor offered the amendment, and also moved to table the Democrat chairman's alternative. With a strong bipartisan vote, our side prevailed. It was gratifying to win--- to have, hopefully, been a resource to the members and staff involved, and to be thanked for the effort.

But those days are rare. On a typical day, phone calls to the Hill get returned slower than you would like. You attend time-consuming meetings to discuss legislative strategy for bills to which most Americans are oblivious. You spend a lot of hours attending and/or organizing campaign events. Just like in the practice of "real law", the routine days, when nothing dramatic happens, far outnumber the days when your client wins a significant, contested victory.

No matter, I'll be staying in the game. See, I got married a bit late. I'm 46 years old and have a two-year-old; and another on the way. It looks like the combination of late procreation and an unforgiving stock market will keep me in this business for a while.

I no longer fear reaching the road's end as a divorce lawyer. Now, different things keep me up at night. I worry about being 70 and hoping that I've convinced the 23-year-old staffer of the merits of my client's position. I guess that's what binds us lawyers together: No matter what area of practice we choose or what stage we reach in our careers, there's always something that produces anxiety.