This may indicate votes may flow more toward the candidate doing the most to address the crisis and less to traditional party lines.
Tough Climb Ahead
Eric Earle, a federal employee, conservative blogger and field director for former GOP Sen. Slade Gorton's 2000 campaign, says the numbers still look bad for the challenger.
Goldmark has no statewide electoral experience, while McMorris spent 10 years in the Legislature, rising to leadership positions at a young age. Then "she was in a competitive primary and killed her opponent and then beat a well-financed and legitimate opponent in the general," Earle says.
Goldmark doesn't have the name recognition Don Barbieri had in 2004; and even though his first quarter of fund raising was energetic, Goldmark is well behind McMorris, who has nearly $1 million already.
"He's an interesting candidate, if you put aside party preferences," Earle says of Goldmark. "It is an intensely difficult climb he faces."
And you wouldn't blame Goldmark if he stayed out of politics completely, especially in an era of hyper-patriotism and Halliburton no-bid contracts. Goldmark's father, John, was a popular farmer and state senator in the 1950s who championed public power only to be viciously slandered as a Communist tool by a former Spokesman-Review political editor and a former legislator who had both sided with private power companies. In this fearful time of the Red Scare, John Goldmark was turned out of office and saw his life ruined.
He sued for libel in 1963 and won a huge victory against his accusers. But the stigma and whispers of "communist" played out tragically in 1985 when, on Christmas Eve, a drifter who hung around right-wing fringe groups, murdered Charles Goldmark, his wife and two children - thinking he was John Goldmark.
The savage attacks on his parents (Peter Goldmark was 17 at the time of the libel trial) and the later murder of his brother's family may have shaped Peter Goldmark and his views of public service and politics.
But you won't get specifics from him.
In fact, he seethes in silence for long seconds when the topic is broached. "The past is there, but I am not my father and I am not my mother. The reason it doesn't go away is because people keep bringing it up," Goldmark says. Later, after the issue is batted around a bit, he says, "I don't want to be difficult about the past. The past is relevant in context, but it's still the past. What I want to do now is look to the future."
And the future means name recognition and raising at least $1 million. Indeed, it's a tough enough challenge to be a Democrat in the Republican stronghold of the 5th District. Goldmark also faces a challenge (i.e., Who the hell is this guy in the cowboy hat?) when it comes to Spokane - the district's one urban center and reliable reservoir of Democratic votes.
"We knew we would have to move the campaign to Spokane," Goldmark says. That meant finding someone to run the farm, explaining the herky-jerky start to his campaign after first announcing last fall then sitting tight through the winter until a friend agreed to take over the ag operations.
Goldmark has been energetic in Spokane, inviting leading lights from the community to gather for round-table talks on renewable energy, ethics in government and health care.
Still, when he donned his trademark cowboy hat and rode on horseback up Market Street in the recent Hillyard Hijinks parade, few people seemed to know who he was.
"It's nice to finally see some horses in this parade," exclaims Bill Hotchkiss, a Hillyard native who now lives in Colfax with his wife, Denise.
The Hotchkisses, who say they tend to vote Republican, said, "This is the first I've ever heard of him," when Goldmark rode by.
Tough Climb Ahead
Eric Earle, a federal employee, conservative blogger and field director for former GOP Sen. Slade Gorton's 2000 campaign, says the numbers still look bad for the challenger.
Goldmark has no statewide electoral experience, while McMorris spent 10 years in the Legislature, rising to leadership positions at a young age. Then "she was in a competitive primary and killed her opponent and then beat a well-financed and legitimate opponent in the general," Earle says.
Goldmark doesn't have the name recognition Don Barbieri had in 2004; and even though his first quarter of fund raising was energetic, Goldmark is well behind McMorris, who has nearly $1 million already.
And you wouldn't blame Goldmark if he stayed out of politics completely, especially in an era of hyper-patriotism and Halliburton no-bid contracts. Goldmark's father, John, was a popular farmer and state senator in the 1950s who championed public power only to be viciously slandered as a Communist tool by a former Spokesman-Review political editor and a former legislator who had both sided with private power companies. In this fearful time of the Red Scare, John Goldmark was turned out of office and saw his life ruined.
He sued for libel in 1963 and won a huge victory against his accusers. But the stigma and whispers of "communist" played out tragically in 1985 when, on Christmas Eve, a drifter who hung around right-wing fringe groups, murdered Charles Goldmark, his wife and two children - thinking he was John Goldmark.
The savage attacks on his parents (Peter Goldmark was 17 at the time of the libel trial) and the later murder of his brother's family may have shaped Peter Goldmark and his views of public service and politics.
But you won't get specifics from him.
In fact, he seethes in silence for long seconds when the topic is broached. "The past is there, but I am not my father and I am not my mother. The reason it doesn't go away is because people keep bringing it up," Goldmark says. Later, after the issue is batted around a bit, he says, "I don't want to be difficult about the past. The past is relevant in context, but it's still the past. What I want to do now is look to the future."
And the future means name recognition and raising at least $1 million. Indeed, it's a tough enough challenge to be a Democrat in the Republican stronghold of the 5th District. Goldmark also faces a challenge (i.e., Who the hell is this guy in the cowboy hat?) when it comes to Spokane - the district's one urban center and reliable reservoir of Democratic votes.
"We knew we would have to move the campaign to Spokane," Goldmark says. That meant finding someone to run the farm, explaining the herky-jerky start to his campaign after first announcing last fall then sitting tight through the winter until a friend agreed to take over the ag operations.
Goldmark has been energetic in Spokane, inviting leading lights from the community to gather for round-table talks on renewable energy, ethics in government and health care.
Still, when he donned his trademark cowboy hat and rode on horseback up Market Street in the recent Hillyard Hijinks parade, few people seemed to know who he was.
"It's nice to finally see some horses in this parade," exclaims Bill Hotchkiss, a Hillyard native who now lives in Colfax with his wife, Denise.
The Hotchkisses, who say they tend to vote Republican, said, "This is the first I've ever heard of him," when Goldmark rode by.
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