Guest: Where did the inclusiveness of the Henry Bellmon-style of Republican governing go?

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Henry Bellmon was a two-time Oklahoma governor, two-term U.S. senator and decorated veteran of World War II. He was an American statesman. And yet, here’s the picture of Bellmon that sticks with me most:

It was in Bellmon’s later years. He was growing old, but still independent. I had been in Stillwater for a meeting and stopped at a restaurant for lunch. Across the room sat Bellmon, by himself. He was wearing jeans and work boots, and had a piece of pie and cup of coffee. When he left, I watched him through the window. He shuffled to his truck, kicked the dried red mud off the rear wheel-well, then got in and sputtered off — probably to his wheat and cattle farm near Billings. This was not a man who gave a second thought as to whether his Governor’s Mansion had been sufficiently grand.

I never voted for Bellmon. In 1986, I cast my ballot for governor for David Walters, a young businessman who would be elected four years later. But I always felt that Bellmon cared about me, that my opinions mattered. (When I say “me,” I mean “people like me,” who didn’t vote for him. I only had one conversation with Bellmon, and we talked about pecan trees.) Bellmon believed that all Oklahomans were worthy of representation. Not just those who voted for him, and not just those who agreed with him.

Today, at a time when our governor offers public prayers that speak only to a specific segment of our population, Bellmon’s inclusive approach seems almost revolutionary. He was a Republican who didn’t always toe the party line. You couldn’t put him in a box. He championed conservative principles like limited spending and lower taxes. But he also pushed the landmark education measure, House Bill 1017, and called for passage of the state’s civil rights law. He was a Christian but understood he also represented non-Christians, including people of no faith at all.

It’s not unusual today for elected officials to declare their victories a “mandate” — that by the nature of their election, they’re entitled to impose their personal beliefs at will. It’s hard to imagine Bellmon displaying such bravado. He was not one for celebration dances in the end-zone.

Bellmon’s daughter, Gail Bellmon Wynne, wrote in the Tulsa World last month that her father pulled together a bipartisan coalition to craft HB 1017. He held bipartisan dinners around the dining room table at the Governor’s Mansion. “Henry Bellmon did not do the red thing or blue thing, Republican or Democrat thing,” she said. “He did what was right for Oklahoma.”

Like the rest of the country, our state is deeply divided. The numbers tilt red, but the gulf is deep. We can’t seem to agree — or even compromise — on anything. Are there enough seats at the table?

We could certainly use some of Henry Bellmon’s inclusive leadership today — a common man of the people, and a civil servant by every definition.

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Russ Florence lives and works in Oklahoma City. His column appears monthly in Viewpoints.

Russ Florence
Russ Florence

This article originally appeared on Oklahoman: Guest: In a deeply divided state, Oklahoma could use a Henry Bellmon