Claytie: The Roller-Coaster Life of a Texas Wildcatter

18. "Maybe this is the time to give back."

With the sale of ClayDesta Communications in the works, and with the final semester of teaching with Ella Van Fleet at A&M at hand, Claytie and Modesta invited a couple of employees to their Midland home to exchange gifts on Christmas Eve 1988. “It was a very relaxed setting . . . and we were in a little bit of a coasting mode, not sure what we’d be involved in at the first of the new year,” recounted Denise Garrett, soon to become Denise Kelly. Brenda Chambers, Modesta’s assistant, joined the small gathering sipping wine and swapping gifts around the Christmas tree in the trophy room. Claytie wandered off to field a phone call, and when he returned Denise noticed that he seemed preoccupied. “I just got the darnedest phone call,” he announced. “Some folks at the Republican Party leadership in Texas want me to run for governor!” Although few beyond the inner circle knew it, that was not his first political overture—just the most significant. “The first person to ask me to run for governor was Jim Ross,” Claytie recalled. “He and his wife, Billie, were Republican activists and came to a party my sister Janet had given for David Ligon.” The suggestion came after Claytie and his guitar-pickin’ cohort had rendered a “beautiful” version of their Spanish favorite, “Juan Charresquedo.” “Well, Claytie,” Ross said, “you’ve done everything else; you should run for governor.” Maybe this is the time to give back.” 18 “ 232 P A R T F O U R Billy Clayton had watched Claytie’s deft handling of the legislative skirmish with AT&T and had grown increasingly impressed with his political and communication skills. The former Texas House Speaker sensed that Claytie had enjoyed the lobbying effort on behalf of his communications company as well as the reputation for honesty and openness he’d acquired in Austin political circles. The Speaker raised the issue of such a race several times, and one day he said, “Claytie, now’s the time to make your move.” Claytie appeared uncertain. “You’d make one helluva governor,” the Speaker pressed. “You tell it like it is, you’re honest, and everybody knows your record. I think we can win this thing.” Although swayed by Billy, Claytie kept telling his friend, “Let me think about it.” Another who suggested a gubernatorial bid was Robert Anderson , the Arco Oil Company pioneer who had witnessed some of Claytie’s classic performances on behalf of the oil industry at Texas Railroad Commission meetings. After one of Claytie’s most outlandish routines—this one in Lubbock—Anderson walked up and said, “Claytie, you’re something else. You ought to run for governor.” A former Midland mayor, Ernest Angelo, likewise urged Claytie to enter the race. Such was the background on Christmas Eve when Claytie told his guests about the phone call from the Republican Party. “I’m really flattered because they said they’re asking me to run for one reason: they think I can win.” Once she realized he was serious, Denise said, “Wow! What a great governor he would be.” She felt confident, she said, because of his “business skills, his people skills, his focus, his determination, his intensity, and his compassion.” If anyone should know his credentials, Denise would, for she had helped him fight and survive the oil and real estate crashes and the legislative war with AT&T. “You know,” Claytie said, “I’m thinking about doing it. I’m thinking that life has been so good to me, and with the sale of ClayDesta P O L I T I C A L A D V E N T U R E S 233 Communications, maybe this is the time to give back. Or to at least make a run at it.” When Denise left the house that evening, she did not know whether he would run, but “just because of the twinkle in his eye,” she thought he would. Claytie and Modesta left for a hunting excursion to Pakistan the day after Christmas, and they extended their trip to discuss the topic in relative isolation. Upon their return, Denise realized at once that not only was Claytie still considering the race, but he was talking quietly about it with trusted associates. “He’s going to run!” she told herself. In early February 1989, the Associated Press thrust Claytie back into the media spotlight, even generating an eight-column...