Fiery and flamboyant, labor legislator Tony Corcoran is a thorn in the toe of anti-labor conservatives in Salem

Labor's Own: Part one of a series

Oregon State Senator Tony Corcoran, 53, is one of a new breed of "labor legislators." It's a strategy that was dubbed "Labor 2000" during the 2000 election campaign: Rather than relying on favors from politicians they help elect, why shouldn't organized labor just run its own candidates? After all, the thinking goes, the labor movement is a perpetual training ground for leaders who know how to mobilize people, and who know the grass roots because they are the grass roots. A handful of incumbent Oregon representatives fits this mold - Diane Rosenbaum of Communication Workers of America, Randy Leonard of Fire Fighters Local 43, Gary Hansen of Plumbers and Pipefitters, Steve March of American Federation of Teachers, and Laurie Monnes-Anderson of Oregon Nurses Association. Three new candidates - Jeff Barker, former president of the Portland Police Association, Mitch Greenlick of American Federation of Teachers and Bruce Cronk of United Steelworkers of America - are vying to add to the ranks of the labor caucus. Look to coming issues of the Northwest Labor Press for features on each of these individuals.

By DON McINTOSH, Associate Editor

It was the fate of Tony Corcoran to get going when the going got tough.

Corcoran became an Oregonian in 1978, just before the state's economy soured, and he became a Democratic state legislator in 1994, just as Republicans took charge for the first time in 40 years.

His party has been the minority ever since, but Corcoran believes he's helped thwart the worst of what he calls an anti-worker agenda. Now, he's optimistic about the chances of a pro-worker majority taking back the Legislature this November. If that happens, as a senior legislator and the longest-serving member of the labor caucus, the self-termed "Old Mick" would be in a position to move a pro-labor agenda.

When he first arrived in Salem in 1995, Corcoran says, a look around at his fellow legislators reinforced his impression that working people were under-represented. For the most part, Republicans spoke the language of big business. Corcoran spoke a different language. Work had been his education, and the union movement his school.

Life began for Anthony Austin Corcoran in 1949 in County Cork, Ireland. He was placed in an orphanage as an infant, and adopted by an American couple at the age of three. He grew up in Roswell, New Mexico, graduated from high school in 1967 and attended the University of San Francisco on a scholarship. He left after two years to take a job at the American Can Company. There, he became a member of the same union his father and grandfather had belonged to in Youngstown, Ohio - the United Steelworkers of America.

In 1971, he met nurse practitioner Jeannie Merrick. The two married in 1976 and a year later moved to Oakridge, Oregon, where he worked building log homes, as a corrections officer, and as a state welfare worker. He was a strike captain when the Oregon Public Employees Union (OPEU) called its first statewide strike in 1987. The following year, OPEU hired him full time as an internal organizer. He's still with the union, now as a consultant.

Corcoran credits two mentors for his turn to electoral politics: Peter DeFazio, for whom he worked in 1984, when the now-U.S. congressman was a Lane County commissioner; and Sam Dominy, a retired leader of the Woodworkers Union, who served two terms as state representative for Corcoran's district.

It was Dominy who encouraged Corcoran to run for office.

Using all the grass-roots organizing skills he'd developed in union work, Corcoran bested Cottage Grove Mayor Jim Gilroy in the primary and beat Republican Marti Ballance in the general election.

State House District 44 - the district Corcoran went to Salem to represent - was in bad shape. In 1994 it had the highest percentage of unemployed timber workers in the state. Automation and changes in federal timber policy had devastated its timber-dependent economy. And it has never really recovered.

At the State Capitol, Corcoran quickly earned a reputation. The Eugene Register-Guard newspaper declared him "Best Freshman Legislator" in 1995. With the Republicans in charge, Corcoran played defense. He fought against an employer-led reform of the workers' compensation system. He fought a bill that eliminated job protections for teachers. He fought reductions in state family leave laws.

"It was always like working for a whirlwind with Tony," says legislative assistant Diana Chambers, 67, who has worked for Corcoran since he began.

His second term in the House, his peers elected him "party whip," the person who counts votes and tries to keep party members together, voting as a group. It's a lot like union organizing, Corcoran says - a lot of phone calls to size people up.

He introduced a slew of bills to jumpstart a conversation about tax justice: A "split-roll" property tax taxing out-of-state corporations at a higher rate; a renter rebate; repeal of the 2 percent kicker for corporations; an earned income tax credit; requirements that businesses getting property tax exemptions pay a living wage; a "homestead" exemption from property taxes on the first $25,000 of a home's assessed value for seniors and those earning less than $32,000 a year.

None of this endeared him to the pro-business Republicans in control of the Legislature. Corcoran began to amass a sizable enemies list on the Republican right wing, of which he says he's exceedingly proud.

"A gadfly" is how Oregon AFL-CIO President Tim Nesbitt describes him - "Jim Hightower without the big hat." When Bob Kintigh retired from Senate District 22 in 1998, Corcoran decided to run for that seat.

His opponents were ready. They spent $270,000 to help Corcoran's Republican opponent, dentist Cedric Hayden. With heavy support from labor, Corcoran was able to raise $230,000. The race proved close -Corcoran won 52 to 48 percent. It was the second-most expensive State Senate race in Oregon history.

All this, Corcoran points out, for a job that pays $1,300 a month.

In the next legislative session, Corcoran continued to ruffle feathers.

He proposed to prohibit the practice of charging men and women different rates for similar services, such as dry cleaning and haircuts.

Corcoran was an early and consistent opponent of electricity deregulation. He fought it when it was introduced in 1999, and in 2001, he tried to repeal it.

If you judge success by the passage of bills he sponsored, he's had little. His name on the bill, and Republican control of the committee structure, ensured that most never even got a hearing, much less debate on the floor.

Instead, Corcoran said, he learned that if he wanted to succeed, he'd have to get a Republican legislator to co-sponsor the bill. That's how he was able to pass several bills he's proud of: one that strengthened penalties for hit-and-run fatalities; and one that created a senior prescription drug benefit [which was cut for budgetary reasons during a recent special session].

Corcoran is quick to give the credit to others. He views himself in part as a conduit for labor and progressives to introduce legislation.

"No matter what the labor issue, Tony's there," said Oregon AFL-CIO political director Steve Lanning.

"He is a resolute critic of anti-worker policies and corporate greed," Nesbitt said. "I think it's grounded in his experience as a union rep. He's someone who brings a sense of outrage at injustice."

In three of his four legislative sessions, Corcoran's labor voting record earned a 100 percent rating from the Oregon AFL-CIO's Committee On Political Education (COPE). [The only vote COPE ever marked against him was for a 1995 bill to expand cardlock gas stations in rural areas without gas stations, which then- AFL-CIO president Irv Fletcher fought as "a slippery slope to self-serve."]

When the boundaries of the state's legislative districts were redrawn in August 2001, Corcoran's Senate District 22 became Senate District 4, adding more of conservative Douglas County, but also more of liberal South Eugene.

In November, Corcoran faces Republican David Alsup, 48, a retired logger and farmer from Drain, Oregon. Alsup is considered an ultra-conservative with ties to the anti-tax movement of Citizens for a Sound Economy. Alsup faults Corcoran for his frequent use of "bad language," a moral failing Corcoran is ready to confess.

"I shovel a lot of horseshit," Corcoran said, helping his wife raise horses at the log home he built himself on a patch of unincorporated Lane County near Cottage Grove. "It's good on-the-job training for the Legislature."

Corcoran is much sought after by journalists for his sharp analysis and ready wit.

"He says what he thinks and why he thinks it," Chambers says. "He's the voice for the little guy."

Like others in labor, Corcoran is clear on the idea that the Democratic Party is more than a club; it's a means to an end. And if that end is pro-worker legislation, Republicans are welcome too.

It chafed Corcoran to see fellow Democrats sign on to the recent state budget settlement: "It's horrible. I don't think the Democrats fought hard enough." The budget contains $611 million in one-time revenues. Corcoran, and most other observers, say the "fix" doesn't fix the problem, it only passes the solution on to the next session of the Legislature, with fewer emergency resources.

"Oregonians are waking up to the fact that governments are being squeezed, while the state continues to give out tax breaks to corporations," Corcoran said. "And cities and schools are in trouble."

The need is especially urgent for the great majority of people - working people - to awaken politically, Corcoran said. Right now, he points out, three-fifths of those eligible to vote are registered. Of those, only three-fourths voted in the last election, and of these, only one-fifth know who their state representative is. "That's five out of a hundred who are really paying attention," Corcoran said. "With that kind of vacuum, the kind of damage that can be done to working people is immense."

Home | About