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Jeb's Lieutenants

In early 1999, in an obscure back office on the Capitol's second floor, Ken Plante spent his first day as Gov. Jeb Bush's legislative affairs chief frantically answering phone calls. Plante, a Tallahassee veteran who took a leave from his lobbying firm to work for the just-elected Bush, didn't have a secretary yet.

Two lobbyists, Dale Patchett and Ron Richmond, lingered outside his door, eager to see him. As the phones continued to ring and Plante had to step out of the office, they began answering phones to try to help Plante free up some time. Why all the calls to Plante? And why didn't Patchett and Richmond -- longtime Tallahassee insiders who were Republican legislative leaders during decades of Democrat control -- simply go look for another old friend close to the new governor? "I realized then I was the only person these guys knew on the governor's staff," says Plante.

Indeed, aside from a few like Plante, the coterie of Bush's lieutenants that arrived in Tallahassee that January consisted of newcomers to both the city and to governing. They were question marks to the city's resident population of insiders. What Tallahassee has since learned is that because most of Bush's staff came to town not owing anyone anything, they've been much more focused on pursuing their boss's agenda than trying to master the capital's well-established ways of doing things. And they haven't worried too much about whose toes they step on in the process.

"One thing I think this administration will be noted for, and is noted for: They're not afraid to ask why," says Brian Ballard, a Tallahassee lobbyist and former chief of staff to Gov. Bob Martinez who teaches a class in Florida government at Florida State University.

All key decisions are Bush's

Bush's popularity, combined with new constitutional provisions that restructure the state Cabinet and term limits that remove dozens of longtime lawmakers, could make him the strongest governor in Florida since Reubin Askew in the 1970s. Bush and his staff are using that momentum, along with technology, to transform the budget process and challenge the Legislature's hold on power.

Ultimately, Bush aims at nothing less than restructuring the entire culture of state government, trimming waste and pork-barrel spending from the system and eliminating hundreds of state jobs by transferring many functions from government to community-based programs and the private sector.

Bush's inner circle is doing what the staffs of most Florida governors always tried to do: keep a low profile and adhere to the governor's "message."

But for the first two years of office, Bush's young turks seem to be better disciplined at it than most everyone before them -- if for no other reason than they virtually never act or speak unless at the express direction of the governor.

So far, Bush's staff has run a close-knit operation that defers virtually all key decisions to Bush, a man with a voracious desire for details. Led by a chief of staff from Mississippi, a budget director from Michigan, a policy director from Pennsylvania and a communications chief from Alabama, staffers come mostly from the ranks of Bush's political campaign or were selected for their commitment to the governor's goals. Ironically, while the members of Bush's inner circle speak passionately of reducing the size of government, many have worked most of their professional lives for government and owe Bush, or friends of his family, for getting them into public jobs. They have helped Bush consolidate power in Tallahassee, even as he speaks of pushing power down to the community level.

The workings of Bush's battalion provide insight into how Bush himself thinks and functions. Bush's chief of staff, Sally Bradshaw, describes it as "a flat organization that wouldn't work for most governors, but it works for him." Relying on his inner wonk and the advice of many outside government, Bush is intricately involved in policy formation and follow-through, to the point of discussing which of the dozens of high-performing schools he will visit to present $100 per student in incentive money from his A+ plan.

Bush has taken on many of the functions that former Govs. Martinez, Lawton Chiles and Bob Graham delegated to their chiefs of staff or others. For legislative matters, he reads bills and staff analyses, often leaving the office with a foot-high stack of papers. For judicial appointments, he reviews applications and personally interviews high court candidates. For agency issues, he conducts the weekly meetings of his agency heads and prods staff for follow-ups on dozens of issues each day.

For Cabinet affairs, the governor examines the wording of every land purchase, relying on his real estate background to negotiate the best price for the state. Meanwhile, he personally responds to an estimated 150 to 200 of the more than 2,100 e-mails he or his staff receives daily. "This is a guy who by everything you read and everything you watch loves this job," observes Jim Krog, former chief of staff to Chiles. "He's having fun. If you're having fun, you're involved in everything."

So how would a diagram of the governor's decision-making process look? Bush replies: "Sometimes it's just me. I have to control myself not to make it just me all the time." But even a simple phone call to his office shows how ubiquitous Bush's presence is. When you're put on hold, it is Bush's voice that delivers the message that someone will be with you shortly and, by the way, check out his web site, MyFlorida.com.

The staff's role in policy-making is that of an informed sounding board for the governor. Famously, Bush solicits opinions from outsiders, calling names on lists he keeps himself. The governor then augments the personal surveys with briefings from staff members, who must contact and brief him about the position of every stakeholder affected by an issue before he makes a decision.

"He invites you to come and give him your opinion," says Mike Hansen, Bush's budget analyst for health and human services who came to the administration last year after 17 years working for the Legislature. "He pinned me down on several occasions saying, 'I want to know what you think. What's your policy advice on this?' I've worked for many speakers, and I've never seen anyone with the attention to detail and the ability to bring all these pieces together and understand where he wants to go with it," he says.

Hansen says he has been particularly impressed by Bush's grasp of the issues. "So if ever I make a suggestion that he's not keen on, I believe it's because I don't know the things that he knows."

Late nights, early mornings

Most striking in Bush's staff is its discipline and loyalty. The members have been well-schooled in Bush's guiding principles: reform education, reduce crime, improve quality of life, cut taxes, improve efficiency, protect the vulnerable and shrink government. They meet weekly to discuss their progress on "The World According to Jeb," and while some programs may be foundering, they execute their message with remarkable thoroughness. The communications staff responds in writing to every newspaper article that includes anything Bush considers misleading or inaccurate. And any time an issue seems to be getting a rocky reception -- such as the governor's proposal to eliminate 25% of the state workforce in five years -- his writers dispatch a guest editorial to every newspaper in the state.

The work ethic is so demanding that former deputy chief of staff David Rancourt can recall one sleepless night when he went back to the office at 2:30 a.m. only to find the governor's deputy legislative aide, Kevin Neal, just leaving.

Despite their dedication to Bush and their familiarity with his positions, however, staff members know they may not speak for the governor until they check with him first. "I learned early on that I didn't commit on anything," Plante says. "I'd say, if you want to know the governor's position, you'd have to wait."

Debate is welcome within the inner circle, but only in private. When critics emerge in the administration, the governor has had his staff ask them to resign. After Andy McMullian, former head of the Division of Retirement, spoke out against privatizing the state retirement system, he found himself looking for a new job.

"That's exactly the way it ought to be," notes Krog. "You got to pass the agenda you ran on, and the last thing you want is to look around and have to convince people in government." Adds Colleen Castille, Bush's chief Cabinet aide: "This administration wants one voice, and they want that voice to be the governor's." She notes "it's very unusual" she's even conducting an interview at all.

So far, Bush -- who has stood by his people whenever criticism emerged -- has been well-served by the depth of the staff's energy and commitment to him and his agenda. With a favorable rating in the polls at 63% in June, he enjoys the highest popularly of any first-term governor since Florida pollsters began recording.

The only significant question about Bush's lieutenants is whether the circled-wagon style will hold up in the long run. Bush's friends and critics alike warn that unless the governor deepens his ranks and defers to more decision-makers, he could be overwhelmed by minutiae. Others say the governor's style has created problems with morale and organization at some state agencies. Stories abound about how the governor has countermanded decisions and promises made by agency heads. In one case, he reversed the corrections secretary's decision to limit Death Row visitors. In another, he vetoed a plan to eliminate school impact fees in 15 counties, despite commitments to support it by Lt. Gov. Frank Brogan and Community Affairs Secretary Steve Seibert.

Some say Bush too often barrels ahead on policy without forging the alliances he needs to make it work. "Running people over because you can is not sustainable," says one out-of-government adviser.

You won't find anyone willing to get behind the criticisms on the record, however. Bush's influence is so complete, and the state GOP so regimented, that no one close to Tallahassee or within the Republican leadership will criticize him openly. Observes one Republican who demanded anonymity: "They have a long memory, and they read the (news) clips."


Sally Bradshaw, 35, chief of staff, grew up in Mississippi, and graduated from George Washington University. She met the Bush family when she got a job out of college in the White House political affairs office as an associate director for the southern region. In 1991, she moved to Florida to become political director for the state Republican Party.

Bush supplies the policy direction, but Bradshaw is the operations wizard. She was the governor's campaign manager in both the unsuccessful 1994 gubernatorial campaign and the winning 1998 one. She was his executive director at the Foundations for Florida's Future, the think tank Bush created between campaigns, and she has been his top aide since his inauguration in January 1999.

By all accounts, Bradshaw has the governor's complete trust, and he has her undisputed loyalty. No one else on his staff can rival her influence with him, and yet she keeps a low profile, rarely speaking for the governor in public and constantly making him available when other staff and agency heads need him. Soft-spoken and sharp, Bradshaw knows Bush so well that during a 40-minute interview with her and the governor, she finished his sentences or expounded on his point eight times.

"My guess is more people directly interact with me than my predecessor, and that's for several reasons," Bush says. "We've got a lot of talented people here, and they should be able to add value to the discussion. We've also got a chief of staff who's not concerned about giving up (her) access (to the governor) -- in fact encourages it -- so we can get more done."

Bradshaw's husband, Paul, a lobbyist who represents a number of companies that want a piece of state action, has posed a ticklish issue for the administration. Bradshaw says she has disqualified herself from any involvement with the companies her spouse represents, but the connection still raises eyebrows among others. "I've heard from some agency heads that when Paul asks for something, they feel pressured," says a Bush adviser. "This could become a problem."

Meanwhile, Bradshaw may have a convenient way to move gracefully from the governor's office to a re-election campaign. She is expecting a baby in January.


Donna Arduin, 37, budget director, is a Michigan native and a devotee of the supply-side principles of David Stockman, President Reagan's budget director who believed that government growth should be replaced with private sector growth. She was deputy budget director in Michigan and New York under Patricia Woodworth, the former budget chief for Martinez, for whom Bush worked as commerce secretary.

Among Bush's inner circle, Arduin has known Bush the shortest time and has created the most tension between the administration and Bush's legislative allies. As the creator of Bush's first two budgets, which attempted to give the administration more discretion over spending than ever allowed by lawmakers, she has earned a reputation as confrontational and tough.

Arduin's allies say she is steadfast in her goal of maximizing the power of the executive branch and forcing government efficiency by choking off the revenue stream, reducing staff and cutting taxes. But several Republican legislators say, on the condition of anonymity, they find her arrogant, sanctimonious and unwilling to compromise -- particularly on member projects, which the governor vetoed in record numbers the past two years. Her latest initiative has been to make agencies reduce budgets 5% a year for the next five years. She is also quietly implementing a plan to require agencies to establish a cost for every service so the information can be posted on the Internet and available for scrutiny.

"It's unfortunate," Arduin says of her critics. "We're exposing information that agencies used to have an incentive to hide. We're providing information to members of the Legislature that only their staff used to have."


Brian Yablonski, 32, deputy budget director and policy director, worked as President Bush's personal assistant before moving to Florida to attend law school at the University of Miami.
Yablonski is Bush's conservative compass. After Bradshaw, he is the staff member closest to the governor. A Pennsylvania native whose family came from coal miner roots and what he calls "labor is God" Democrats, Yablonski now considers it a point of pride that as a baby he spit up on President Lyndon Johnson at a political gathering.

Yablonski was the second editor-in-chief of the policy magazine Impact, funded by Bush's think tank, and co-wrote the governor's 1995 book Profiles in Character. Yablonski learned Bush-think and helped conceive Bush-policy as the two spent hours discussing issues that led to articles for the magazine. Together they reshaped Bush's approach to the issues, going from advocating the dismantling of welfare and education in 1994 to what Yablonski calls the "more hopeful outlook" of the 1998 campaign -- offering ideas for filling the void left when government programs were shrunk.


Cory Tilley, 32, deputy chief of staff, has known Sally Bradshaw longer than he has known Bush. An Ohio native, he met Bradshaw when he had a White House internship and she was his boss. He followed her to Florida to work on Bush's 1992 campaign, then left to spend a year as press secretary for the governor of Maine. Tilley returned to Florida in 1994 to work as the press secretary for Bush's foundation and became communications director of the 1998 campaign. He believes Bush is "probably the best public servant in the country" whose "worst nightmare is he leaves office and everything goes back to the way it was done before."


Justin Sayfie, 31, left a job as associate attorney at Miami's Greenberg, Traurig -- where he says he was the "token Republican on staff" -- to become Bush's speech writer and then communications director. After a year as the governor's chief spinmaster, Sayfie moved in September to Yablonski's shop, where he will work with his former law school buddy as deputy policy director. Sayfie, the father of three, expects the new role to bring him a more "normal lifestyle."


Frank Jimenez, 35, deputy chief of staff and acting general counsel, worked for Bush's foundation and his campaign before joining the staff. A native of Miami and a Yale Law School graduate, Jimenez has straddled the two roles for several months since the resignation of Carol Licko, a Miami lawyer, as general counsel. Retiring U.S. Rep. Charles Canady, R-Lakeland, takes over in January. Jimenez says Bush is constantly thinking of things that hadn't occurred to them. "It's almost a daily occurrence for me to say, 'Good point, governor. Let me get back and check.' "


Colleen Castille, 41, chief Cabinet aide, is one of the few Tallahassee veterans hired by Bush. She had been chief Cabinet aide to Lt. Gov. Frank Brogan when he was education secretary and for six years before that held the same post for then-Insurance Commissioner Tom Gallagher. She believes that Bush's enthusiasm for his agenda is contagious, but she is often frustrated at the slow progress. "I go home at night and think to myself I don't think we gained an inch. Other days, yes, we've changed latitude here."


Katie Baur, 33, was appointed communications director this fall after two years as spokesman for outgoing House Speaker John Thrasher. A native of Alabama, Baur came to Tallahassee from D.C., where she had been a staff assistant for legislative affairs in the Bush White House and press secretary to Congressman John Ensign of Las Vegas. Thrasher's close relationship with Bush during the past two legislative sessions gave Baur a solid primer on Bush-think.