Engagement Matters
AS YOU KNOW, I BELIEVE it is essential that we each engage in the political process in some form or fashion. This is the privilege—and thus, in my opinion, the duty—of every citizen of a free nation. We will not all run for office or occupy extremely influential positions, but we can all be influential in one way or another, and it can start by getting involved in local politics in our hometowns.
My views on political engagement are not just theoretical; they come from a lifetime of experiences in the political arena. Over the years, I have had the honor of being directly in the fray with some incredible individuals who not only shaped policy and life for local, state, or federal government, but also for me personally.
I’d like to share a few memories and insights about several of them.
My journey through politics began with Howard Baker. Back in 1963, the Pilot offices were in downtown Knoxville in the Greater Tennessee Building. Right across the hall were the law offices of Morton and Lewis. George Morton, one of the principal partners, caught me in the hallway as I was coming back from lunch one day and said, “Howard Baker’s coming by here. He’s thinking about running for the Senate.”
I had met Howard several times, but I did not really know him that well. Even so, the whole idea of him running for the State Senate intrigued me, so I went across the hall to speak with him on the matter. I knew he would have to be running against the State Senator, Fred Berry, from south Knoxville. Fred owned a funeral home and was a colorful politician, often considered controversial. I asked Howard what his thoughts were about running against Fred Berry.
“Fred Berry?” he replied. “Jim, I’m thinking about running for the United States Senate.”
I remember this moment so very distinctly. It was inconceivable to me that somebody I knew could possibly be a member of the U.S. Senate. It was one of those moments when my little world got a little bit bigger. This is what the political process does for us: it broadens our horizons as we help broaden the horizons of others who are served and whose lives are improved through the democratic process.
Sure enough, Howard ran for the Senate for the first time in 1964, which was the year Senator Barry Goldwater lost by a landslide to the incumbent President Lyndon Johnson. Howard was running to fill the unexpired term of Senator Estes Kefauver, a Democrat who died in office earlier in 1963. Howard’s opponent was Congressman Ross Bass.
Howard was narrowly defeated. Though he lost, the fact that it was by a narrow margin was noteworthy because, in those days in the South, it was nearly impossible for any Republican to win any sort of popular election. This region of the country tended to vote strictly blue. Baker lost to Bass by a mere 4.7 percentage points, which was the closest any Republican had come to being popularly elected to the Senate from the state of Tennessee.
Two years later, Howard would have the chance to try again.
In 1966, Howard Baker ran for the same Senate seat again, but this time, his opponent was the sitting Governor of Tennessee, Frank Clement. Clement beat out Bass in the Democratic primary to lock up his party’s nomination, which, in general, meant a lock on the general election.
But Howard proved to be a more formidable opponent than anyone expected. He campaigned hard while Clement failed to mobilize his own base. When the dust settled and the votes were tallied, Howard Baker was elected as the first Republican Senator from Tennessee since Reconstruction, as well as the first Republican in Tennessee to be popularly elected to the Senate.
He would go on to win again in 1972 and 1978, becoming a mainstay in the Senate and earning a reputation in Washington as “The Great Conciliator.” He was known for sticking to his promises—promises he made because of his personal values and the integrity he sought to foster and promote throughout the nation. When Howard Baker really believed in something and considered it to be the right thing to do, he was known to reach across the aisle to broker compromises, regardless of the political consequences.
Such integrity would play into his story later—and also greatly affect the way I see politics.
Howard’s Press Secretary was Ron McMahan so they obviously traveled together often. Ron started off as a reporter for the old Knoxville Journal. After the election, he moved to Washington to work for Senator Baker but eventually came back to become the owner and Editor-in-Chief of the Knoxville Journal, which was eventually sold to Gannett.
Ron and I spent a lot of time together working on Senator Baker’s various campaigns, so I had a front-row seat to his fun character. During Howard’s run for reelection in 1972, I met Howard and Ron at the Tri-Cities airport near the eastern border of Tennessee so we could ride together to a fundraiser in the little town of Elizabethton. We were trying to make it there in plenty of time; however, the road was narrow and crowded, which meant we needed to make up for lost time.
Ron was driving, Howard was sitting in the front seat, and I was sitting in the back. All of a sudden, blue lights and a siren begin flashing and blaring behind us as a state trooper pulled us over. This was not ideal for sure, but I had no idea just how ready Ron really was for such a situation.
After he pulled the car to the shoulder, Ron jumped out and began yelling at the state trooper, “Are you Senator Baker’s escort? Where have you been?”
Looking very flustered, the poor officer replied in a panic, “No, sir, but I will be!” Just as quickly as Ron had exited the car, both he and the trooper got back inside their respective cars and we received a police escort to our event that night.
There were many funny stories like this on the campaign trail with Howard, but the story that still affects me the most to this day isn’t really funny; rather, it exemplifies what kind of person Howard really was. In 1978, he was running for the Senate for the last time and I was his Finance Chairman. At the time, he was the Minority Leader of the Senate. He would go on become the Majority Leader after the Republicans took control in the 1980 elections.
Needless to say, by this point Howard was a popular figure in politics, which meant my job was fairly simple. It was easy to raise money for a guy with his name recognition and good reputation. The fundraising campaign was bringing in donations from all over the country and everybody was patting me on the back for my efforts. The truth was that it didn’t take much effort.
But then everything changed—and I also discovered what kind of man Howard Baker really was. President Jimmy Carter was pushing to sign a treaty to eventually sell the Panama Canal back to the Panamanians and then lease its use from them. It was a hotbed issue that divided the political landscape and, for the most part, the Republicans on the far right very much opposed the treaty.
Imagine their shock and horror, then, when the Republican minority leader of the Senate came out in favor of the treaty. It sent shockwaves throughout the party and suddenly, the money that had been flowing like milk and honey dried up.
As his Finance Chairman, I was obviously alarmed. I called Ron and requested a meeting with the Senator. It turned out that Howard was coming to Huntsville, Tennessee that weekend, so Ron invited me down to have lunch with him on the upcoming Saturday.
I got there about 11:30 a.m., just as Howard was finishing up a game of tennis with three of his old buddies—banker Bill Swain and lawyers Don Stansberry and Bob Worthington. After his friends walked away, Howard and I stood alone. Mind you, I have since shrunk a bit in these recent years, but they used to call me “Big Jim,” mainly because I was six feet, four inches tall. Howard, on other hand, stood only about five feet, seven inches.
I was worried about his support of the treaty and the subsequent drop in donations, and I planned to let Howard know about it in no uncertain terms. “Senator,” I said, “we really need to talk about this Panama Canal thing because it’s killing our fundraising.”
He looked at me and said, “Jim, sit down.” His tone was very blunt.
I sat down and he proceeded to educate me on the matter at hand. It soon became very clear that I was no longer the taller man in this conversation. I sat there looking up at him. “Jim, let me tell you about the Constitution. Our forefathers were some of the most intelligent people who ever lived, and their wisdom is still pervasive today. They intentionally created a Congress in which members of the House of Representatives would be elected only for two years, while senators would have six years. Do you know why they did that, Jim?”
I could have answered the question, but I didn’t dare… and he didn’t wait for me to try.
“I’ll tell you why, Jim. They wanted Senators to have the security of six years during which they were free of the politics of seeking reelection. This allowed the House to be able to look at more current matters and the Senate to be free to make decisions that really affect the long-term welfare of the nation.”
I didn’t come for a lesson in civics, but his passion could not be denied. Besides, I knew I was receiving infinite wisdom—just as if one of the Founding Fathers himself were offering it.
He continued, “They gave the Senate the power to approve treaties just like this one. It is my job to take a step back and really look at how this affects people for the long haul—and that’s just what I’ve been doing. I have consulted every former President, every former Secretary of State, and everyone else I can find who has dedicated time and research to this matter—and they all say this is the right thing to do. So I’m going to vote for it.”
He took a breath, then concluded, “Now, if all of this is okay with you, Jim, and you want to keep on raising money for us, then let’s go have lunch. But if you want to stop because of my decision, that’s fine too. We’re still friends either way.”
I had been looking up at him the entire time, but never before had I looked up to him quite so much.
“Let’s go have lunch,” I said.
Howard suffered dire political consequences in the aftermath of his decision to go against the wishes of his own party. In the 1980 election, he ran against Ronald Reagan and George H. W. Bush for the Republican presidential nomination, but he never had a fighting chance. Howard Baker’s chief political aspiration had always been becoming President, but still, he never regretted his decision to perform his duty and, more importantly, do what he believed to be the right thing for the country, regardless of the fallout.
Howard went on to become the Chief of Staff for Ronald Reagan, and eventually, the U.S. Ambassador to Japan. I will never forget the time Bill Sansom and I flew to Washington to see him about a Knoxville Chamber of Commerce matter. We went into the White House to meet with Howard and, after a few minutes of catching up together in his office, he unexpectedly blurted out, “Well, let’s go see the President.”
The next thing I knew, we were standing in the Oval Office posing for a picture with President Ronald Reagan. Once again, the question must be asked: how did this happen? In this case, it happened because of the right kind of friend. This experience epitomized exactly what it was like to be a friend of Howard Baker: he always exceeded expectations in serving those around him. He greatly affected my viewpoint of politics but also my view of life itself. He taught me the importance of doing the right thing in everything I do.
Howard enriched my life not just through all I learned from him but also through many of the people I met because of my friendship with him. One such person was Lamar Alexander.
Lamar had been a legislative assistant to Howard when he was in the Senate, and we met through this mutual connection. The first time I ever talked to Lamar, he asked me to raise money for him—he was that confident about what he wanted to do to serve and why he wanted to do it. Of course, I said yes.
I began helping raise support for Lamar when he ran for Governor of Tennessee in 1974. He lost that election, but he wouldn’t be deterred by the setback. He ran again in 1978 and won, defeating Democratic candidate and Knoxville banker Jake Butcher.
Lamar served as the Governor of Tennessee for two terms. He taught me something interesting about the differences in running for an executive political office versus a legislative office. He pointed out that once you are elected to the House or the Senate, the people who supported you—that is, influencers who worked hard and raised money to help you get elected—tend to want you to pass legislation related to what they care about the most. This is common in the democratic process: people support those who will make decisions that reflect their own values and interests.
But when you run for an executive position like Mayor, Governor, or President, things are a bit different. Because of the sheer breadth of such an office and its responsibilities, the people who helped you get there will be people you will have to call upon to serve in your cabinet or administration. If you want to succeed, you will not just let them sit back and expect you to work for their interests; you will bring them to work alongside you for the interests of everyone under your collective charge.
This changes the way you look at the people you ask to fundraise and campaign for you. You are not just raising money; you are also raising up future leaders and, as we have learned, the head leader rises or falls on his or her ability to put the right leaders in the right places. Politics, just like business and football, is a team sport—if, that is, you actually want to win. And by win, I mean do something for the greater good, not just win an election.
Lamar also taught me a lot about giving and philanthropy. I will discuss my thoughts on these topics in an upcoming chapter, but many of my philosophies came from Lamar’s influence. He helped me see that all giving is not the same. People tend to think of generosity only in the realm of charity, nonprofits, or worthy philanthropic causes—and I am certainly in favor of giving generously to each of these. I believe in giving to your church, the United Way, and a host of other organizations and endeavors because it is the right thing to do.
But there is another way that giving one’s dollars can greatly affect the common good. When you invest money in the right kind of people and help get them elected to office, the invaluable return on that investment is good government. Since it is sometimes eclipsed by the negativity that surrounds so much of our political process these days, we can all too easily forget that our Founding Fathers established this government not as a way to rule over or dominate people, but rather as a protection and an accurate expression of the people. This includes benefits, of course, that trickle down for the people and are administered by the people.
I believe not just in voting for my favorite candidate, but also in being invested in the process of helping him or her get elected—not for the sake of what they can do for me or people like me but because I believe our Founding Fathers were right: good government is good for all the people under its service.
Lamar’s time as Governor opened the door for one of the highest honors of my life in the realm of service: I was appointed to the University of Tennessee Board of Trustees. This gave me the opportunity to directly serve, protect, and enrich the university that has meant so much to me for so much of my life.
Lamar’s second term as Governor expired at the end of 1987, after which he became the President of the University of Tennessee in 1988. He served in this position for only three years. President George H. W. Bush soon called upon him to serve in another important role: Secretary of Education. After his time in Bush’s cabinet, he toyed with the idea of running for president, but it never panned out. Instead, Lamar eventually ran for the Senate seat vacated by retiring Senator Fred Thompson. Lamar won the seat and then won two subsequent reelections.
As his final reelection bid drew to a close in 2014, the campaign was in need of extra funding. He hired a professional fundraiser whose plan was to put Lamar and me on calls together to prospective donors. We went to our house at Blackberry Farm on a Friday afternoon and placed about ten or fifteen calls. Lamar started the calls and gave “the talk,” and then I made the pitch for donations. When it was all said and done, Lamar said we raised about half a million dollars in thirty minutes, which was by far the greatest, most efficient fundraising story of my life. The best part was that I experienced it, along with many other adventures, alongside a dear friend in Lamar Alexander.
Lamar served in the U.S. Senate for eighteen years before finally retiring from the Senate in 2020, and I was honored to work with him during that entire time.
Running in these political circles with Lamar and Howard caused me and my family to segue into raising money for other politicians, including President Reagan, President George H. W. Bush (41), and President George W. Bush (43). This is generally how fundraising and political campaigns work: party members help one another campaigning and fundraising toward the common goal of getting as many party candidates elected as possible, which increases their chances of being more effective when they take office.
We became more involved with the Reagans and the Bushes because we saw the kind of people they were. It was very evident that they cared deeply about the country—and again, we were able to positively affect the lives of our fellow citizens by getting behind the candidates we believed would serve people well.
When Howard was Chief of Staff for President Reagan, Natalie and I were invited to a state dinner being held for the Chancellor of Austria. There were a number of famous people there, including Maria von Trapp, about whom The Sound of Music was written. Also in attendance was the coach of the Superbowl Champion Washington Redskins, Joe Gibbs.
The entrance into the event was extremely formal. All of the guests waited in a holding room off to the side until our names were called. The press would then take photographs of the person of importance who was being announced and was entering the White House ballroom with pomp. It was very prestigious.
“Mr. and Mrs. Joe Gibbs of Washington,” announced the attendant. Cameras began flashing left and right as Coach Gibbs and his wife made their appearance before the media. We were next. This was going to be fun! We stepped up to the threshold and prepared for our lofty introduction to the world.
“Mr. and Mrs. James Haslam of Knoxville.” We glided into the room, but I am not joking when I tell you that not a single flash of a single camera went off. There wasn’t even a courtesy flash! We laugh about it to this day.
Another time, we were attending a White House dinner during the George W. Bush administration. By that point, they didn’t really do the whole picture/introduction thing as much anymore, for which we were grateful. Instead, we attended a cocktail hour in the West Wing. There were about sixty of us there at the time, and we were supposed to mingle until they called us into the dining room.
Natalie and I wanted to be friendly, so we made our way over to talk to one couple who was standing alone. We made first-name introductions and were talking for a bit, Natalie to the lady and I to the gentleman. I found out that he was from Michigan but lived in Washington. I asked him how long he had lived there, and he said they had been in the city for about twenty years. He asked what I did for a living; it was very nice of him to ask. I told him and, to reciprocate his courtesy, I asked what he did.
“Well, I’m a Supreme Court Justice.”
“Oh.”
As it turned out, we had been chatting with Associate Justice John Paul Stevens, who served on the nation’s highest court from 1975 until 2010. It just goes to show you that you never know who you’re talking to, especially when you’re in Washington.
Justice Stevens might have thought it odd that we didn’t know who he was, but we’ve always been perfectly content for people to not know who we are. Washington is the kind of town wherein standing out is often not a good thing. Natalie learned this lesson the hard way at another state dinner. The master of ceremonies kept offering toasts for various officials and dignitaries in the room, which meant we had to keep standing up each time to join in the applause. The thing was that every time she stood up, she knocked over her tiny chair. Natalie has a quiet, gentle demeanor, so she never wants to make any kind of a scene or fuss, which means we get an especially good laugh out of this memory.
Who knew that Natalie Haslam would be the type to repeatedly throw chairs in the White House?
Finally, one of our favorite presidential memories comes from one of the most famous elections in American history in the year 2000. When the voting results originally came in, the election was called for Senator Al Gore of Tennessee. However, a dispute arose regarding Florida, and the election was then called for Bush instead.
The bottom line was that there was a razor-thin margin between the two candidates, which meant a recount had to be held in Florida. This was when phrases like “hanging chads” and “pregnant chads” entered into the American lexicon, referring to paper ballots and their indentations from the voting machines that had failed to definitively punch all the way through, leaving their official results in dispute.
The citizens of the nation waited on the edge of their seats for several weeks as the election results hung in the balance. I had worn a particular tie on the night of the election, and I wasn’t about to stop wearing it until we found out whether or not the candidate we had worked so hard to help get into office had officially won. As you probably know, it finally came down to a vote of the House of Representatives and, sure enough, George W. Bush became the forty-third President of the United States. A few months into his administration, we visited him in the White House, and I told him the story about wearing my tie every day until the results were official.
Without missing a beat, he laughed and said, “Well, I’m just glad you didn’t wear the same underwear!”
I really can’t talk about my experiences in politics without talking about my son Bill Haslam. I am a man who has been blessed beyond measure with children who engage in worthwhile endeavors, but who, more importantly, love and serve their families extremely well. It really never mattered to me that my children accomplish things that society will consider important or impressive; it only mattered that my children became people of faith, integrity, and hard work.
And they all have.
I could brag on all my children (and often do), but since this chapter is specifically about politics, I want to share some stories about Bill’s political journey to date. Oddly enough, when they were young men, it was Jimmy, not Bill, who was always involved in politics. Jimmy’s college roommate was a young man named Bob Corker. Bob became and has remained a close, personal friend to our family for many years. He became the Mayor of Chattanooga and eventually a U.S. Senator. Believe it or not, it was Bob, Jimmy’s roommate, who first planted the seeds of politics in Bill’s life.
Bill and his wife, Crissy, were vacationing in Destin, Florida, when they randomly bumped into Bob at dinner. Bob is an avid runner and cyclist, so he invited Bill to join him for a bike ride the next morning. Bill accepted and, while they were together, Bob told Bill that he should run for Mayor of Knoxville because the current Mayor, Victor Ashe, was term-limited and would soon be leaving office. At first, the idea was completely foreign to Bill. “Why would I ever want to do that?” he asked.
Bob told him all about his own prior experiences in business and how being Mayor opened up so many bigger opportunities to do good and help people on a grander scale. Bill is a quiet man, and it appeared that he wasn’t interested, but the idea just wouldn’t stop rolling around in his head.
When he returned to Knoxville, we sat down and talked about it. I was shocked he was even considering it. Again, I always thought that if any of my children were to run for office, it would be Jimmy. Even so, I encouraged him that if he really wanted to try it, he should go for it. He had my full support.
Bill entered the mayoral race and took the plunge into politics, not knowing all the places it would lead him. I had been involved in many political races over the years, but mainly only in fundraising endeavors. I consider this to be the wholesale side of politics. But when someone in our immediate family actually ran for office, we entered the retail side of politics.
The differences between the two were many, but, above all, retail politics require you to get out into the field to shake hands and actually interact with people. It is about sincerely listening and understanding what is going on in people’s lives and in their communities. Being extremely intelligent and thoughtful, Bill acclimated to these kinds of tasks quite well.
One night, our team was engaged in a kind of “boiler room” operation. We had a list of people who had voted in previous elections, and we were cold-calling them to talk about their opportunity to elect Bill Haslam as Mayor. Along with Bill, there were about fifteen of us present. Our strategy involved making the standard pitch, but if someone had a question, we would call Bill over to let him speak directly to the voter on the call. It was a lot of work, but it was good work because it meant actually talking to—and listening to—real people.
On one call in particular, someone asked about some kind of skateboarding park in North Knoxville. We didn’t have a clue about it, but when Bill caught wind of the conversation, he insisted on taking the call. To our surprise, he began talking all about the prospective plans and locations for the project. When he hung up, I asked, “Bill, how did you know about that?”
“Well,” he replied, “when you go out and knock on so many doors, you hear about things. I was in a neighborhood just the other day, and they were talking all about this skateboard park.” I was proud that my son had taught me such a valuable lesson: if you’re running for political office, you must get out and engage the people and not just to secure their votes. You have to actually listen to them, regardless of whether or not they give you their support.
During Bill’s mayoral campaign, meeting people in the community became a family affair. We all chipped in to get out and canvas every neighborhood in Knoxville. It was hard work, but we made memories I wouldn’t trade for anything.
While Bill is fairly mild-mannered, his brother, Jimmy, lacks anything resembling a delicate approach—even in campaigning. We were knocking on doors in West Knoxville when Jimmy began speaking with a family he had known for quite some time. He was asking how their elderly father was doing when their father himself slowly began walking down the hallway to join in the conversation. When Jimmy noticed he was older than he remembered, he asked, “How old are you now, sir?”
“Eighty-two,” the man replied.
“Well, early voting starts Monday!” Jimmy replied.
Despite funny interactions like this, Bill still won that election and served two terms as the Mayor of Knoxville. He never lost his desire to listen and serve the people’s interest above his own. Politics can be a difficult business because everyone feels their own interests are most important. It is a leader’s job to somehow balance all the competing interests and complaints in order to find a common ground that will best serve the good of the whole. As you can imagine, there is no way to please everyone all the time. That’s the reality for any leader.
Serving in any position of leadership—and especially a political position—exposes you to more people, which in turn opens you up to more criticism. During and after Bill’s mayoral campaigns, I became aware that some people had negative things to say about our family. They acted as if the fact that Bill was Mayor would somehow mean everything I wanted to do in the community would suddenly come to pass. It has always been an easy indictment, though some do more than just imply it. Many people will say it to your face. I understand that deep involvement in the community and in politics brings along with it this kind of thing.
There are a few things that have always stuck out to me that seem to counter this sometimes less-than-subtle assumption about me and my family. We have attended St. John’s Episcopal Cathedral in downtown Knoxville for many years. The main entrance we go in and out of is on the west side of the property next to a curb that lacks proper drainage. For years, every time it rains, water pools at this entrance and it is a real eyesore, as well as a headache to navigate.
There is also a stoplight just up the hill from Neyland Drive by the City-County Building that clogs up the flow of traffic on Sundays, even though there is very little traffic coming the other way. It is a nuisance that could easily be remedied by simply reprogramming the stoplight to flash red on Sundays so drivers don’t have to wait so long.
When Bill took office, I actually mentioned these two things to our new Mayor, suggesting that he get the drainage issue taken care of and that he get someone to program the light to blink on Sundays. These things were not just good for me; they would help everyone who came to our church or drove down that particular road on Sundays.
I’m here to inform you that Bill was Mayor for nearly eight years and to this day, many years afterwards, that puddle is still there, and that light does not blink on Sundays. For all the conspiracy theories about nepotism, I couldn’t even get my own son to fix a mud puddle on my behalf!
Bill Haslam was too busy actually serving the greater good of the city of Knoxville, as he should have been doing. During his time as Mayor, he spearheaded renovation across the city and especially in downtown Knoxville in the Market Square area. He also helped to bring Regal (Rivera) Theater to this part of the city. I will discuss many of his political and philanthropic accomplishments later, but suffice to say he was an excellent mayor… even if I do say so myself.
When his second term was nearing its end, Bill decided to run for the office of Governor. We had dealt with the ins and outs of local elections, but this decision took things to another level. One thing you learn in such experiences is that, when a family member runs for major political office, you need to develop thick skin because people are going to say a lot of unkind things about your entire family. Negative, hurtful things were said about me, my sweet wife, Natalie, and other members of our family.
You have let it roll off you like water off a duck’s back. To that end, I learned to completely avoid what was being said on social media. I think the anonymity and lack of face-to-face interaction online allow people to say things they would never say to their worst enemies if they were actually looking them in the eye. During a campaign, it is best just to avoid it altogether—and to keep looking people in the eye.
Bill accomplished a tremendous amount of good during his time as Governor. It would take too long to list all of his accomplishments (and he wouldn’t be very happy about my doing so), but a few of them are most definitely worth mentioning. Under his leadership, the Tennessee Promise program came into being, which provided free tuition for all Tennesseans to Tennessee community colleges. This literally paved the way for millions of people to access higher education.
However, Bill was also highly involved in improving education at the elementary and secondary levels, which is evidenced by the fact that over $1.5 billion was spent on K–12 education during his time in office. Five hundred million of these dollars went to teacher salaries, and student scores increased dramatically from elementary standardized tests to the ACT college-entrance exam.
However, he was not just focused on increased funding; he was focused more on efficient structure and leadership in higher education. For many years, the University of Tennessee Board of Trustees was made up of a large conglomeration representing many of its member entities. The University of Tennessee has campuses or major programs in Knoxville, Chattanooga, Martin, and Memphis, which meant each of these schools had representation on the board. The board also had one representative from each congressional district. All told, it had become a very large, political, and inefficient governing body.
Secondarily, there were similar problems in the other state-run higher education system in Tennessee: the Tennessee Board of Regents. In addition to thirteen community colleges and twenty-seven technical colleges, the universities that comprised this system included Tennessee State University, Tennessee Technological University, Middle Tennessee State University, East Tennessee State University, Austin Peay State University, and the University of Memphis. Once again, the Board of Regents was comprised of representatives from each of these organizations, which created many political and logistical logjams in its organization and functioning.
Bill addressed these issues through The FOCUS Act. This act reorganized the University of Tennessee Board of Trustees into a much smaller, more efficient governing body. The act also allowed each four-year university under the Board of Regents system to create and maintain its own university boards instead, granting greater influence and efficiency to each school. The Tennessee Board of Regents now only exists to represent community colleges and technical schools.
Beyond education, Bill Haslam also helped Tennessee take enormous strides from a fiscal standpoint. When he entered office in 2011, the state “rainy day” fund was at $284 million. When he left office in 2019, it had grown to $861 million. In light of the deteriorating infrastructure of Tennessee roads and highways, he also spearheaded the Improve Act, which cut taxes on food and increased taxes on petroleum products. The net result was that Tennesseans paid $500 million less in taxes, while much more money was put into cities and counties to deal with their crumbing infrastructure. By the end of his second term, Tennessee was rated the best state in the country for financial stability.
I could go on forever, but time does not allow it (and neither does Bill).
To summarize our family’s story in the political process, we have been fortunate on all sides. There were many candidates whom we supported who did an incredible amount of good in the world—and we were lucky enough to partner with them in the democratic process for which so many have laid down their lives to defend.
I encourage you to do the same. Find people who are willing to offer themselves to the service of others, and then offer them your time, talent, and treasure. We’ve been so fortunate to work with honorable men like Howard Baker, Fred Thompson, Lamar Alexander, Bill Frist, Don Sundquist, President Ronald Reagan, President George H. W. Bush, President George W. Bush, and yes, my own son, Bill Haslam, for whom we took a more active role than just fundraising.
I encourage everyone to get involved in the political process in some way, even if it’s only knocking on doors for a candidate you believe in. I remember knocking on one door in Greeneville, Tennessee, that affected me deeply. A lady answered the door and told me she was not going to vote because she distrusted the political process. I understood her concerns, and we discussed the matter for quite some time.
I guess that something good happened in that conversation, because afterwards, she decided to vote. Lucky for us, she voted for Bill Haslam for Governor. I had given her one of my business cards and, after the election, she called to say that she had not voted in over twenty years, but after our conversation, she had had a change of heart.
It just goes to show that no matter how small it may seem in the moment, what you do or say really does make a difference.