Door-to-door Democrat

CROFTON, Md. -- For Democrats in Maryland, the November election was so bleak that they lost the governor's office for the first time since the 1960s.

One exception to the Democrats' woes was the success of former Missourian Bill Burlison, a county councilman who continues to flourish by virtue of the same uncommon work habits that took him from the Bootheel cotton fields to Congress.

Burlison, 71, swam against the tide in winning a second term as councilman in Maryland's Anne Arundel County, a sprawling, complex political jurisdiction of 500,000 people that runs from Baltimore-Washington International Airport south into rural tobacco-growing country.

His position is a coveted political job in a rich and vibrant area, a position that Burlison wanted so badly to keep that he performed the superhuman feat of knocking on more than 20,000 doors in an 11-month re-election campaign.

But county politics falls short of the political realm in which Burlison once operated.

From 1969 until 1981, Burlison was the congressman from Missouri's 10th District, which at the time stretched from St. Louis County to the far reaches of the Bootheel.

In his fast-rising career, Burlison sped from Marine prosecutor to Cape Girardeau County prosecutor to Congress. By 1980, in his sixth term, he had enough seniority to become chairman of the House spending subcommittee that handled the budgets for the FBI, CIA and other key agencies.

National security issues took up much of his time. Another of his passions was abolishing the Electoral College. Long before the nation's presidential election system was dissected in 2000, when Democratic aspirant Al Gore won the popular vote but lost the election, Burlison championed a constitutional amendment for direct election of the president.

Ousted in GOP landslide

In 1980, Burlison's career collapsed. In the Ronald Reagan landslide that year, Republicans captured the Senate and 33 House seats, his among them. It didn't help his campaign when the Post-Dispatch and other newspapers wrote about a shoving match between Burlison and the estranged husband of a constituent he was visiting.

There was no evidence of impropriety then or now, but the incident may have contributed to Burlison losing his congressional seat to the late Rep. Bill Emerson by 21,000 votes. Emerson's widow, Jo Ann Emerson, R-Cape Girardeau, holds the seat in that southeastern Missouri district now.

Burlison remarked during an interview that had he remained in Congress, he would have advanced to the powerful job of chairman of the House Appropriations Committee. But he is not one to lament publicly what might have been.

"You win some, you lose some," he said with a shrug.

Knock, knock

It took awhile for Burlison to get back in the game. After his defeat, he remained in the Washington area, worked briefly as a lobbyist, divorced and remarried, built up a criminal defense law practice and lost two elections for county offices.

Finally, in 1998, at age 67, he stunned the local political establishment by unseating the chairman of the Anne Arundel County Council.

County Executive Janet Owens, a Democrat who also won her first term that year, recalled that almost no one believed the former Missouri congressman had a prayer. She remembers Burlison knocking on her door seeking support. "He is just a tireless campaigner," she said.

Door knocking has become a staple of politics: At election time, would-be officeholders climb porches with their smiles, brochures and practiced lines.

But few approach the task like Bill Burlison, who honed his tactics in Missouri and who snickers at whippersnapper candidates who think they know how to reach out to voters.

By any yardstick, Burlison's campaign methods are extraordinary -- and not just for someone in his eighth decade.

From Dec. 1 of last year to Nov. 5 of this year, Burlison knocked on doors during 339 days of 340 days, by his count. Some days, he visited just a handful of homes. But there were days when he was out for six hours. He says he took one day off from campaigning in 11 months -- last Christmas.

Sending personal notes to potential supporters also has become standard practice for up-and-coming politicians. Burlison has turned note writing into a science.

Between stops, he jots down observations about his last visit while memories are fresh. That evening, with assistance from his wife and former congressional aide, Mickey Prosser, whom he describes as "my partner in life and in politics," he writes notes that will be mailed in a day or two.

Next, he writes each voter he visited that day a postcard with another personal message. He saves these postcards, and just before the election, between 20,000 and 25,000 homes get another personalized Bill Burlison greeting such as: "Really enjoyed talking about your son's baseball game and meeting your dog, Fred. Hope you'll remember me Tuesday." All the note-writing and pavement-pounding paid off: Even as two Democrats on the County Council were swept out in the Republican tide, Burlison defeated the promising young GOP lawyer who had challenged him, capturing 53 percent of the vote.

Campaigning so relentlessly suggests an overwhelming desire by Burlison to avoid losing another election. It also requires a strong constitution.

His advancing age poses no barrier either to campaigning or to equally rigorous exercise. In his 70s, he remains a competitive athlete. He was the gold medalist in two events -- cycling and basketball, in the Maryland Senior Olympics, and he has competed recently in national senior cycling races.

With another four-year term ahead of him, Burlison has renewed his vigorous regimen of running, cycling and swimming to stay in shape.

After all these years, Burlison hasn't totally left Missouri and Congress behind. His family still owns the farm near Wardell where he was born, and his business cards note that he was a member of Congress.

He still is pushing to abolish the Electoral College. He wrote a spirited defense of doing so in the Maryland Bar Journal, arguing that it violates the equal protection clause of the 14th Amendment. At local political gatherings, he talks about the Constitution and American history.

Last week, when a mental health advocate made a plea to the council for more money, Burlison wanted to talk about advances in treatment for the mentally ill.

His high-mindedness has triggered charges that he is out of touch with local issues. But the old Missouri congressman, who has no plan to retire any time soon, challenges critics half his age to get out and see the voters like he does and talk about the issues on their minds.

"I enjoy seeing people and trying to help them," he said. "My philosophy is to try to bring government closer to the people."