Over the years, I've had changes of heart about a number of local, state, and national political figures. I've gone from admiring them to loathing them, and in some cases circling back to feelings of respect and admiration.
One of those individuals who earned, lost, and then regained my regard was Larry Forgy, the prominent Kentucky Republican who died Thursday after being in declining health for several years.
Forgy was an enigma to many in the state, myself included. His positions and viewpoints were sometimes hard to figure out, but he was loyal to himself and his ideology up until the end.
Long a player behind the scenes in Bluegrass politics in a party that seemed to be stuck in permanent minority status, Forgy suddenly took the spotlight as a "can't-miss" candidate for governor in 1987. The Democrats were engaged in a brutal primary, eventually won by businessman and political outsider Wallace Wilkinson, and Forgy was thought to have a great chance to win statewide and become the first GOP governor in 20 years.
Instead, Forgy shocked the political world by opting against a run for governor, citing a distaste for the fundraising required to win a position of that stature. Without a viable candidate, Republicans ended up nominating John Harper, a relatively-unknown Bullitt Countians, who lost in a landslide to Wilkinson.
Four years later, Congressman Larry Hopkins was the party's top choice to run for governor. He was envisioned to face Lt. Gov. Brereton Jones, who had feuded with Wilkinson during their term. (Back in those days, Kentucky governors were term-limited, and the governor and lieutenant governor were elected separately and not as a slate). Suddenly, inexplicably, at the last minute Forgy threw his hat into the ring, making political contribution and spending limits a central part of his campaign.
His entry into the race left a lot of Republicans scratching their heads. "Why did he do this?" they asked. "He was a shoo-in to win the nomination and stood an excellent chance of winning statewide four years ago, but he decided not to. Now we have a strong candidate poised to run, and he jumps into the race? Why?"
Forgy's presence in the race hampered the Republican efforts. Hopkins eked out a victory in a hard-fought primary against Forgy, but that race drained him of resources he needed to compete against Jones. He lost badly, and many Republicans (myself included) blamed Forgy.
Fast-forward another four years, and Forgy decided once again to run for governor. This time, he had the party's backing in his effort. He ran a close race, but ended up losing to Paul Patton in an election marked with allegations of vote fraud. Without some shenanigans in Louisville that were later verified, Forgy may have finally become governor.
I voted for Patton -- one of the few Democrats for whom I've cast a vote in a federal or statewide election -- for several reasons. One was because Patton was from eastern Kentucky and I truly thought he'd be beneficial for the entire region. (He really wasn't; his hometown of Pikeville fared pretty well, but the rest of the mountains didn't). But the biggest reason was my anger with Forgy. He'd sabotaged the party twice; once by not running for governor when he could have won, and again when he helped tank the candidacy of a candidate who could have won.
For years, I held this bitterness toward Forgy, whom I'd met only once. To be viewed as such a fine upstanding conservative, he'd done the movement two major disservices. But when the Republican establishment showed its true colors during Ernie Fletcher's gubernatorial term, the lawyer and orator from Logan County won back my admiration.
Fletcher's story is well-known. He finally broke the drought for Republican governors in Kentucky, but found himself battling partisan attacks from the Democrats by himself when the GOP leadership turned its back on him, and in some cases sided with the opposition. Forgy became one of the most vocal and prominent defenders of Fletcher, clashing with party bigwigs who had abandoned their governor.
Forgy continued to be a voice for true conservatism over establishmentarianism. He was publicly critical of Mitch McConnell and backed Matt Bevin in his 2014 primary run against McConnell. Even though the two had feuded publicly in latter years, McConnell was gracious in his comments about Forgy after news of his death spread.
As I mentioned, I only met Forgy once. It was in the spring of 1991 when he was campaigning for the GOP gubernatorial nomination, and I was editing a newspaper in Estill County. Forgy came to pay a call on the newspaper's publisher, who himself had been active in Republican politics, and they invited me in for a portion of the conversation. Forgy was warm, engaging, well-spoken, and articulate. He and Gatewood Galbraith were probably two of the best political orators I've ever met. But Forgy, as gifted and witty of a speaker as he was, couldn't win me over. I'd already thrown in for Hopkins, had his stickers on my vehicles, and was actively campaigning for him.
I don't regret supporting Hopkins over Forgy. I do regret voting for Patton, because he ended up being such a disappointment in so many ways. But that vote was really more of an anti-Forgy expression than one of support for Patton. And while I'm still disappointed over how things turned out in 1991, I respect Forgy's accomplishments and have come to understand his positions and his integrity with regards to conservatism and Republican politics.
Kentucky's conservative movement lost another giant earlier this week with the death of Scott Hofstra, who was a strong voice for freedom and a leader of various tea party groups. His passing drew warm comments of remembrance and sympathy and appreciation for his efforts. I never met Hofstra, but was certainly aware of his presence. (And unsurprisingly, certain liberal goons were quick to rejoice over the deaths of both Hofstra and Forgy, but that's become the norm these days.)
Rest well, Lawrence Eugene Forgy. You earned the respect of thousands -- and regained my regards for your loyalty in your golden years.
