RIP, Governor

It's hard to imagine one man having as much impact on a state as Jim Hunt did on North Carolina.

Back when I first started writing PoliticsNC, I would occasionally get a phone call and a voice would say, “Thomas!” with what sounded like a sense of urgency. After a very brief pause, the voice would relax and the man at the other end of the phone would say, “This is Governor Jim Hunt.” He was usually calling to talk to me about something I wrote. We’d chat for a few minutes and he would always sign off with, “Keep up the good work.”

To say Jim Hunt influenced my political life would just be trite. He shaped virtually everyone in Democratic politics in North Carolina during the last quarter of the 20th century and his impact on the state was felt by political leaders for two decades after he left office. It still is.

Still, my life intersected with Governor Hunt from the time I was young. In 1977, not long after he was first elected governor, he appointed my father, a district court judge, to the Superior Court bench. A few years later, he came to Anson County to dedicate a bridge to my uncle, Fritzi Mills, who had served in the legislature and as Secretary of Transportation. The main thing I remember about that ceremony is Hunt arriving in a helicopter and my uncle saying “I’m a little concerned because I thought they named bridges after dead people.”

Later, in college, I became friends with Hunt’s daughter, Rachel, and his son. Baxter. I met them during the time their father was running for Senate against Jesse Helms. Hunt’s loss in that race was probably my biggest political disappointment until Donald Trump’s victory in 2016. The outcomes of both races left me questioning the values of my fellow Americans.

A decade later, I started working in politics and ran into The Governor at various political events like unity dinners and fundraisers. During that period, some Democrats got a bit frustrated with the Hunt machine. He built an organization of “county keys” outside of the local political parties. The keys were people who helped raise money and promote Hunt. Historically, county parties had served as local political organizations for all Democrats.

Hunt understood that politics were changing. The end of a broad patronage system, something he did during Hunt I, eroded the power of local party operatives. The emergence of a two-party system meant voters were no longer voting straight Democratic tickets. Hunt’s machine scooped up the most influential leaders in counties and directed the flow of money into his campaign instead of the party itself.

Today, every campaign builds its own operation. The role of the party has shifted, focusing more on turnout operations and registration drives than promoting slates. Hunt was ahead of the curve.

After the 1994 GOP wave that gave Republicans control of the North Carolina House and left them just one seat shy of the Senate, Hunt used the machine he built to help legislative candidates across the state. In 1996, he had a relatively weak opponent in Robin Hayes and wanted Democrats to control the legislature during his fourth and final term. He was tireless, crisscrossing the state to help his fellow Democrats.

At the time, I was managing a state senate campaign for Walter Dalton who was running against a one-term Republican incumbent. Hunt came to the district in early September. His county key helped us organize two events, a smaller one with high-dollar donors followed by a large one with low-dollar donors. The first put money into our campaign coffers. The second one only paid for itself but sent a signal across the district that the popular governor wanted Dalton to win. It gave our campaign momentum and enthusiasm heading down the stretch. Dalton won by less than 350 votes.

Hunt’s tenure during the 1990s shaped how Democrats in the state ran campaigns. Public schools and education became the centerpiece of the Democratic message. While Republicans railed about taxes and spending, Democrats talked about raising teacher pay to the national average, reducing class size, preparing children from at-risk families, and helping struggling schools in poor districts. It worked until 2010 when another Republican wave gave the GOP control of the legislature and the redistricting pen.

Hunt never quit politicking. He was helping Democrats for more than two decades after he left office. His daughter, Lieutenant Governor Rachel Hunt, carries the family legacy, holding the office that launched his political career. In all of her races, Jim Hunt was her biggest cheerleader.

It’s hard to imagine any single person having as much impact on one state as Jim Hunt had on North Carolina. He was a reformer, he was a technocrat, and he was a political powerhouse. He literally changed the way government worked, sharply reducing the number of patronage positions, allowing the governor to run for re-election, and pushing through a gubernatorial veto. He was both pro-business and pro-people, believing that public education was a key part of economic development. He built a political juggernaut that elected him chief executive of the state four times and helped elect Democrats down the ballot to support his agenda.

During his lifetime, he made North Carolina the envy of the South. His vision shaped the state for most of the last 50 years. From 1976 to 2010, his understanding of the role of government guided the Democrats who ran North Carolina, helping them build an economically diverse state with an a emphasis on strong public schools. Since 2011, Republicans have spent almost 15 years trying to tear down what Jim Hunt built.

Hunt was not just powerful. He was accessible. He was willing to talk to anybody. And he listened. He wanted to know what people were thinking and he made everybody feel significant. The calls I got and the notes he sent made me feel special because he either wanted to know what I was thinking or tell me he appreciated what I wrote. But I know there were hundreds, maybe thousands, who received those calls and notes, too.

That’s what made him special. He understood that his power lay in his ability to come across as a normal person, more than a powerful one. He made people feel important because he valued their opinions or ideas. It was a gift. Jim Hunt embodied the saying, “He never forgot where he came from.”

Rest in peace, Governor.