Palmer's Pumpkin

His name was hardly a household word in Minnesota, and virtually all Richard Palmer, 40, knew about politics he put in the papers he ran—two Duluth weeklies owned by his father. So it seemed mildly quixotic last fall when Palmer laid down his pencil and took up a megaphone to run for the Minnesota state senate.

The gesture was decidedly well timed. Palmer's opponent, Francis ("Frenchy") LaBrosse, though a six-year incumbent, was suffering from the wounds of a feud with his own Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party. Thus, in a traditionally Liberal * district, Palmer positioned himself as an independent, free of party encumbrances. In what seemed an innocent enough proposition at the time, he promised to line up with whichever party gained control of the senate. The appeal worked, and Palmer became the first nonLiberal senator ever elected in his district. It was pure Cinderella, with Palmer as the star. Then some very funny things began to happen on the way to the political ball.

When the tally was in, the Minnesota senate was split evenly down the middle: 33 Liberal senators, 33 Conservatives—and Independent Palmer. The political neophyte woke up to find himself the most pivotal political figure in the state, holding the vote that would give control to either the Liberals or Conservatives in organizing the senate. Beyond the usual perks of patronage and committee chairmanships, the vote had special significance. With Minnesota facing reapportionment, the party in power would be able to redistrict to its advantage.

Scared to Death. Within hours of the election, party paladins from both sides were beating a path to Palmer's door. D.F.L. Governor-elect Wendell Anderson flew to Duluth to offer his congratulations and brotherly advice. Outgoing G.O.P. Governor Harold LeVander was right behind him. Hubert Humphrey checked in with a phone call, as did a host of other D.F.L. members. The G.O.P. countered by flying Palmer to St. Paul for a meeting with the party's top legislators. It was all very flattering, but dismaying too.

"I'm scared to death," Palmer admitted in the midst of it all. "It's such a serious responsibility." Indeed, nothing had really prepared him for the experience. The father of two teenagers, Palmer is a Duluth native who attended two years of college at the local branch of the state university before joining the family business. His house is perched beside Pike Lake, and he is a true northlander, boating, fishing and water-skiing in the summer, snowmobiling with his family during the winter. He was aware that, however he decided, he was in for trouble. "Whatever I do, I'm going to lose," he said. "If I go Conservative, the Liberals will be mad at me and vice versa."

Then the situation altered. The Liberals lapsed into a curious silence, while the Conservatives followed through with their honeyed pitch. They hinted at important committee appointments should Palmer caucus Conservative. Essentially following his own political leanings, on November 30 Palmer finally cast his lot with the Conservatives.