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Lobbyist, lawyer Thomas H. Boggs Jr. dead at 73 Lobbyist, lawyer Thomas H. Boggs Jr. dead at 73
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Thomas H. Boggs Jr., who sat for decades at the epicenter of Washington legal, business and political circles as the city’s marquee name in lobbying and political fund-raising, died Sept. 15 at his home in Chevy Chase. He was 73. Thomas H. Boggs Jr., a Washington lobbyist whose indefatigable networking, finesse for dealmaking and deep-rooted connections to American political life placed him squarely in the epicenter of the city’s power-broker elite, died Sept. 15 at his home in Chevy Chase. He was 73.
The cause was an apparent heart attack, said his sister, the broadcast journalist Cokie Roberts. The cause was an apparent heart attack, said his sister, broadcast journalist Cokie Roberts.
With a gregarious charisma that even his nemeses among good-government groups found hard to resist, Mr. Boggs spent four decades as a heavyweight in Washington influence peddling. Sometimes attending three fundraisers in a single night, he had a shrewd understanding of how the city operated behind the public view how to get to people in a position of power and how to win their support. Few people were as acquainted with the pathways to power and influence as Mr. Boggs, whose father, known as Hale, rose to Democratic majority leader in the U.S. House and whose mother, known as Lindy, served nine terms in Congress. Young “Tommy” Boggs’s first job in Washington was operating the private elevator for then-House Speaker Sam Rayburn, the Texas Democrat.
“The best lobbyist in Washington is a member of Congress who agrees with you and is willing to lobby for you,” he once told an interviewer. “He may not want to play a front role if he has a constituency that is against what you are trying to get him to do, but your best bet is still to try to convince a member to be your lobbyist.” Socially and professionally, Mr. Boggs knew presidents, Cabinet secretaries and members of Congress and, sometimes more important, their staffs. He became Washington’s most high-profile legal and political adviser in an elite core of gatekeepers and kingmakers that included Thomas “Tommy the Cork” Corcoran in the 1940s and later Clark M. Clifford. Both were family friends.
By pedigree, Mr. Boggs had grown up in a home where Democratic politics was the family business. His father, a Louisiana congressman, rose to U.S. House majority leader and died in a plane crash over Alaska in 1972. His mother, known as Lindy, won the special election for her husband’s seat and served nine terms in Congress before President Clinton named her U.S. ambassador to the Holy See at the Vatican. Starting in the late 1960s when lobbying was often a one-man operation or done by a trade association Mr. Boggs helped transform the profession into a sprawling, multibillion-dollar enterprise that seeks access and then regulatory action across a vast spectrum of public policy goals. He helped pioneer the “revolving door” culture of hiring former members of Congress and others with enough prestige to get the right people on the phone, fast.
“Tommy” Boggs, as he was widely known, entered the law and lobbying trade soon after graduating from Georgetown University law school in 1965. A few years later, he made an unsuccessful run for Congress representing suburban Maryland, an experience that made him even more sympathetic to the needs of political aspirants and survivors. Mr. Boggs, who charged upwards of $550 an hour for his time, was often called a “hired gun.” He never seemed to protest. Instead, when one magazine called him “an icon of Washington’s mercenary culture,” he hung the article on his office wall.
He rose to the apogee of influence in the wake of Watergate-era reforms that saw an “explosion and diffusion” of committee oversight and power, said Charles Lewis, an author of books on money in politics and founder of the nonprofit watchdog group the Center for Public Integrity. His quips, at times, played into the worst popular notions of lobbying “We pick our clients by taking the first one who comes in the door,” he once said. To another interviewer, he added: “We don’t get paid to be philosophers.”
The firm Mr. Boggs was most identified with, long known as Patton Boggs and Blow, was an early leader in the “revolving door” method of hiring former members of Congress. It developed a client base that included oil, drug, insurance and chemical companies, trial lawyers groups seeking to head off tort reform, and even the candymaker Mars. With a self-awareness and gregarious charisma that even his nemeses among good-government groups found hard to resist, Mr. Boggs spent more than four decades as a heavyweight in Washington influence peddling. He sometimes attended three fundraising events in a single night.
The result was that Mr. Boggs was routinely on lists of the most effective lobbyists in the country and his business topped the list of most profitable lobbying shops raking in tens of millions of dollars annually. He had a shrewd understanding of how the city operated behind the public view how to get to people in a position of power and how to win their support, often via large donations. In 1970, he made an unsuccessful run for Congress representing suburban Maryland, an experience that made him even more sympathetic to the needs of political aspirants and survivors.
Neither other namesake partner had the same gusto for publicity, allowing the entrepreneurial and swashbuckling Mr. Boggs to fashion its public reputation to his “hired gun” style. Whether by virtue of pedigree or a perspective informed by close-up working relationships, he expressed in colorful terms the joy he felt of being in the presence of politicians and their ability to find solutions to serious problems.
National Journal called the firm “an icon of Washington’s mercenary culture” and wrote of Mr. Boggs, a Democrat who gave large amounts of money to Democratic officeseekers, that he was “ready to cash in on Clinton.” Rather than protesting, Mr. Boggs reportedly put the article on his office wall, explaining that the aggressively descriptive language was likely to lure more business. “Members of Congress work their panties off,” he once told The Washington Post. “If you took the 535 of them and stacked them up against 535 of the top people who sit around corporate boardrooms, I’d take the congressmen for sheer brainpower any day.”
Over the years, the company joined the lobbying effort to save the carmaker Chrysler from bankruptcy and worked to persuade Congress in 1980 to approve federal loan guarantees of up to $1.5 billion. With his Democratic connections, he saw a burst of influence with the election of Jimmy Carter to the White House in 1976 and he became a go-to figure on tax legislation. He also worked for oil and construction companies eager to see the Trans-Alaska Pipeline System come to fruition in the 1970s. By his mid-30s, Mr. Boggs had risen to the apogee of influence in the wake of Watergate-era reforms that saw an “explosion and diffusion” of committee oversight and power, said Charles Lewis, an author of books on money in politics and founder of the nonprofit watchdog group the Center for Public Integrity.
During the Reagan years, Mr. Boggs continued to wield considerable power because of the Democratically controlled Congress. He then saw his prospects surge after the 1992 presidential election of Bill Clinton. A Patton Boggs partner, Ronald H. Brown, was the Democratic National Committee Chairman and was named Clinton’s commerce secretary. Another Patton Boggs partner, Lanny J. Davis, became a White House special counsel for Clinton. Instead of a handful of people who controlled the levers in town, the joke went that when a lobbyist went to Congress, he could say “Hello, Mr. Chairman” and everybody would turn around. (A rite of passage in some Washington circles especially among those ubiquitous subcommittee chairmen was an invitation to Mr. Boggs’s farmhouse on Maryland’s Eastern Shore for a weekend of duck hunting and socializing.)
With the Republican retaking of power both houses of Congress by 1995, Mr. Boggs began to take a strong interest in GOP fundraisers and brought in lawyers with strong ties to that party. Mr. Boggs’s firm, which became known as Patton Boggs, had a strong tax-legislation division. He developed a client base that included oil, drug, insurance and chemical companies; the communications firm MCI; and even the candymaker Mars.
For the Association of Trial Lawyers of America and organizations of insurance underwriters, Patton Boggs worked to scuttle the Clinton-era healthcare reforms out of concern over a cap on malpractice claims and other limitations on profitmaking. The firm worked to persuade Congress in 1979 to approve federal loan guarantees of up to $1.5 billion for the bankrupt automaker Chrysler. He also worked for oil and construction companies eager to see the Trans-Alaska Pipeline System come to fruition in the 1970s.
Working for the American Bankers Association, Mr. Boggs helped argue for the repeal of Glass-Steagall Act, a Depression-era law that prohibited commercial banks from combining with brokerage houses. The repeal, part of a larger appetite for deregulation in the late 1990s, is often said to have played a significant role in worsening the financial collapse of the late 2000s. He saw his prospects surge after the 1992 election of Bill Clinton to the presidency. A Patton Boggs partner, Ronald H. Brown, was named Clinton’s commerce secretary. Another Patton Boggs partner, Lanny J. Davis, became a White House special counsel.
Patton Boggs also worked for foreign entities, including some that were highly unsavory. They included Amigos del Pais (Friends of the Nation), an association of Guatemalan businessmen who in the early 1980s wanted to replenish U.S. military assistance for President Romeo Lucas Garcia, a general accused on human rights abuses during his country’s long civil war. The Republicans retook power in both houses of Congress during the 1994 elections, and Mr. Boggs began to take a strong interest in GOP fundraisers. He also diversified his staff to include many lawyers with ties to the Republican Party.
Despite his own political ideology, Mr. Boggs was ideologically flexible in his choice of clients in order to see his firm endure and flourish. For the Association of Trial Lawyers of America, Patton Boggs worked to scuttle the Clinton-era health-care revisions out of concern over a cap on malpractice claims. For the American Bankers Association, Mr. Boggs helped argue for the repeal of the Glass-Steagall Act, a Depression-era law that prohibited commercial banks from combining with brokerage houses.
“When the Republicans take over the White House, the business community basically thinks they can get a lot done,” he told Denver Business Journal in 2001, explaining why Patton Boggs was on the U.S. Supreme Court brief for GOP candidate George W. Bush during the contested 2000 presidential election. “So we’ve always done better as a law firm ... when the Republicans control the White House.” The repeal, part of a larger appetite for deregulation in the late 1990s, is often said to have played a significant role in worsening the financial collapse of the late 2000s.
Patton Boggs (it had long since dropped Blow from its name) was subsumed earlier this summer by the larger Squire Sanders law firm because of declining revenue and high-profile departures of partners, prompted in part by setbacks for the firm in a battle with Chevron. Patton Boggs was on the U.S. Supreme Court brief for GOP candidate George W. Bush during the contested 2000 presidential election. As he explained to the Denver Business Journal, “when the Republicans take over the White House, the business community basically thinks they can get a lot done.”
Patton Boggs had sided with plaintiffs seeking payment from the oil giant over toxic oil waste left behind in Ecuador decades ago. But Chevron had alleged wrongdoing on the part of the plaintiffs and Patton Boggs regarding a $9.5 billion judgment against Chevron in an Ecuador court in 2011. The firm recently settled its dispute with Chevron, paying the oil company $15 million. Patton Boggs also worked for foreign entities, including some that were highly unsavory. They included the Haitian dictator Jean-Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier and an association of Guatemalan businessmen who in the early 1980s wanted to replenish U.S. military assistance for President Romeo Lucas Garcia, a general accused of human rights abuses. The lobbying firm also represented the Bank of Credit and Commerce International, a financial institution that collapsed amid charges of money laundering and other misdeeds.
Thomas Hale Boggs Jr. was born Sept. 18, 1940, in New Orleans and grew up in Bethesda, the son of Thomas Hale Boggs and the former Corinne Claiborne. After graduating in 1958 from Georgetown Preparatory School, he received an undergraduate degree from Georgetown University in 1961. Mr. Boggs’s namesake firm was subsumed this summer by the larger law firm Squire Sanders because of declining revenue and high-profile departures of partners, prompted in part by setbacks for the firm in a battle with Chevron.
In 1960, he wed Mary Barbara Denechaud. Besides his wife, of Chevy Chase, and sister, of Bethesda, survivors include three children, Thomas Hale Boggs III of Manhattan Beach, Calif., Elizabeth Boggs Davidsen of Chevy Chase and Douglas Boggs of Bethesda; and eight grandchildren. Patton Boggs had sided with plaintiffs seeking payment from the oil giant over toxic oil waste left behind in Ecuador decades ago. But Chevron had alleged wrongdoing on the part of the plaintiffs and Patton Boggs regarding a $9.5 billion judgment against Chevron in an Ecuador court in 2011. The firm recently settled its dispute with Chevron, paying the oil company $15 million. At his death, Mr. Boggs was chairman emeritus of the newly named Squire Patton Boggs.
While in law school at Georgetown, Tommy Boggs apprenticed on the staff of Congress’ Joint Economic Committee and learned the nuances of tax law. In 1966, a year after graduation, he turned down an offer at a marquee law firm, a decision he attributed to his mentor, the presidential confidant and Defense Secretary Clark M. Clifford. Thomas Hale Boggs Jr. was born Sept. 18, 1940, in New Orleans and grew up in Bethesda. His father, who first came to Congress in 1941, died in a plane crash in Alaska in 1972, and his mother, the former Corinne Claiborne, won the special election for her husband’s seat.
He said Clifford advised him to go to a firm that would give him the most experience, and so he joined the staff of a four-member firm co-founded by James R. Patton Jr. He made $12,000-a-year. After graduating in 1958 from Georgetown Preparatory School, Tommy Boggs received an undergraduate degree from Georgetown University in 1961 and a law degree from Georgetown in 1965.
“My father was disappointed,” Mr. Boggs told The Washington Post in 1983. “He had gone to a great deal of effort to make sure I was interviewed at all the Big Daddy firms in town. We never had much money, and the best he could give me was heritage and opportunity, and here I was not taking advantage of ‘opportunity.’ He said I was stupid.” In 1960, he wed Mary Barbara Denechaud. Besides his wife, of Chevy Chase, and sister, of Bethesda, survivors include three children, Thomas Hale Boggs III of Manhattan Beach, Calif., Elizabeth Boggs Davidsen of Chevy Chase, and Douglas Boggs of Bethesda; and eight grandchildren.
He plugged along for several years, taking time to mount an unsuccessful effort to unseat incumbent Rep. Gilbert Gude (R-Md.) in 1970. Three years later, the law firm became known as Patton, Boggs and Blow, the last for partner George Blow. His mother, who served as Clinton’s ambassador to the Vatican, died last year at 97. Another sister, Sigmund, died of cancer in 1990 while serving as mayor of Princeton, N.J.
After graduating from law school, Mr. Boggs said, he turned down an offer at a big law firm on the advice of a mentor, the presidential confidant and defense secretary Clark M. Clifford.
He said Clifford advised him to go to a firm that would give him the most grounding in legal basics, and so he joined the staff of a four-member firm co-founded by James R. Patton Jr. He made $12,000 a year.
“My father was disappointed,” Mr. Boggs told The Post in 1983. “He had gone to a great deal of effort to make sure I was interviewed at all the Big Daddy firms in town. We never had much money, and the best he could give me was heritage and opportunity, and here I was not taking advantage of ‘opportunity.’ He said I was stupid.”
Three years later, the law firm became known as Patton, Boggs and Blow, the last for partner George Blow. Neither other namesake partner had the same gusto for publicity, allowing the entrepreneurial Mr. Boggs to fashion its public reputation to his “hired gun” style.
For all his more flamboyant side — the Havana cigars, the duck hunting — he could trace his success as a lobbyist to his old boss in the elevator, Rayburn. The former House speaker told him the greatest skill in lobbying was the ability to listen and know how far to push. “Politics is the art of the possible,” Mr. Boggs said.