By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
Three years ago, while attempting to climb Mt. Everest's treacherous north face, Mark Udall started to think about getting into the family business--politics. And after just ninety days of working at the Colorado House of Representatives, the Boulder Democrat has found his new career a bit treacherous, too.
Making the job more difficult is the legend of his father, who climbed the political spire before him. Morris "Mo" Udall was a towering presence in Congress from the early Sixties until he retired in 1991 because of complications from Parkinson's disease. Mo, a well-known raconteur and flaming liberal from Arizona who made a bid for the Democratic presidential nomination in 1976, and his brother Stewart, a secretary of the interior in the Kennedy administration, made a formidable pair in Washington, D.C., especially on environmental issues.
The Udall legacy could be seen as an enormous burden for Mark Udall, but he feels otherwise. After all, he's not some twentysomething trading on a family name, as is the case with some members of the younger generation of Kennedys. Although he's in his first elected post, Mark is 46 years old and has spent the past twenty years working for the Colorado Outward Bound School, the last ten as executive director. That, he says, has helped rid him of self-doubt and any desire to compare himself with his father. "My dad casts a big shadow, particularly in this world," he says from his cubicle at the State Capitol. "But I gave twenty years in another arena and proved I have what it takes to be successful. Because of this, I'm not worried about what my dad accomplished."
Someone who can relate is Stewart Udall's son Tom, the New Mexico attorney general and the first of the twelve offspring of Mo and Stew to enter the political fray. "The others used to kid me, saying that I was the only one who got stuck with a defective gene," says Tom.
Are Mark and Tom building another Udall duo for the Nineties? If so, they've gotten a late start. But Mark has already shown the typical Udall ardor about environmental issues, and he seems to have inherited his dad's charm and thirst for action.
Sitting at his desk, wearing black cowboy boots, Udall buttonholes passing representatives the way veteran politicos do.
"Hey, buddy!" he calls out to a colleague. "We gonna beat that bill today? Who can we swing on this?" Friendly and energetic in the office he shares with three other freshmen, he's already begun to compile a folder of anecdotes and jokes in much the same manner as his father, who was well-known in D.C. for his ability to use entertaining stories and self-deprecating humor to his advantage.
"Growing up in a political family like we did definitely gives you some skills," says Tom Udall. "And the good thing about having a father who's done a lot is that it creates a standard and shows you that positive things can be accomplished. For me, my father and Mo are like stars out there that I can strive for."
But Tom puts a lot of emphasis on Mark's experience at Outward Bound. "Many of the talents Mark is showing now come from the leadership abilities that he honed on his own," he says. One of those talents is raising money: Mark's brother Brad, who acted as his campaign manager, notes that Mark successfully tapped into the network he had established at Outward Bound, where he was not only CEO but chief fundraiser.
It was a good job, Mark says, but he finally had to practice what he preached. "As a leader in Outward Bound, you get used to telling people to change their attitudes and behavior," he says. "But after a while you stop doing it in your own life. As a result, I wanted to try something really different, where I was going to be completely out of my comfort zone."
Well, maybe not entirely out of his comfort zone. Mark still works on outdoorsy issues. Tom thinks that defending Mo Udall's legacy of environmental legislation might have been a key factor in his cousin's decision to run for office. Mark entertained an offer from Patagonia, the outdoor-sportswear company, and considered consulting work. But the lure to politics was too strong.
"Up until 1994," Tom says, "there was a pretty solid bipartisan coalition committed to conservation and environmental issues. This goes back to Kennedy, Johnson and Nixon, who all supported important environmental legislation. But a major change occurred with Gingrich and the Contract With America coming into play a few years ago. Their principles were much, much different as they took the industry side. As a result, Mark's involvement doesn't surprise me."
For now, though, Mark's a babe in the woods. Even though his father spent most of his life in politics, Mark says he wasn't exposed to the inner workings of government as a youth. "Between the ages of twelve and fourteen, we all lived in D.C. with Dad--I'd go to the Capitol with him and bop around and go on the floor," he recalls. "But when my parents got divorced in 1964, we went back to Arizona. As a result, I didn't get any of the day-to-day experience of being in Congress. I just heard about the exciting aspects."