Guest Columnist Bill R. Phillips: Demanding, yes, but a friend always

Friday, March 12, 2004 | 5:08 a.m.

Bill R. Phillips served as a reporter in Nevada as well as staff member under Gov. Robert List before he ignored the advice of Horace Greeley and went East, where he served in the Reagan and Bush administrations. He now is deputy mayor of Nashville, Tenn., where he invokes the rules learned from Gov. Mike O'Callaghan on a daily basis.

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March 13 - 14, 2004

"Iron Mike" was one of my earliest mentors way back in the dark ages of the 1970s.

Having just moved to Nevada from California, via Washington, D.C., to assume the post of political/government reporter at Reno Newspapers, I was shocked when Nevada Gov. Mike O'Callaghan called me to personally welcome my family and me to the Silver State.

Thirty years later I was saddened when a long-time Nevada friend tracked me down in New York City to tell me of the governor's death. Not only had a mentor and friend passed from the scene, but so had a little bit of personal history.

It was not long following that gubernatorial welcome call before I learned the personal relationship carried some baggage as well. It was during a visit by my in-laws when I received another telephone call one evening from the governor that was less than a "welcoming."

My mother-in-law picked up the ringing phone, and I overheard her say, "I'm her mother." She chatted with the caller about her trip from Texas to visit grandchildren, daughter, and, oh yeah, that son-in-law of hers. After a brief pleasant-sounding conversation, she told me that it was a nice man who identified himself as "Mike O'Callaghan."

As I took the receiver I overheard my wife, Candy, tell her parents rather proudly that was the governor of the state calling her husband.

The mood changed quickly. As I answered, the governor wasted no time letting me know that he thought I had blown a story of particular interest to him, and from the tone of his voice, I was sure the future of the free world was in balance.

He gave me one of his famous royal Irish chewing outs, and I quickly understood he held high standards and expected others to attain the same level. There was a fact in a story involving one of his legislative initiatives that I had misunderstood, but he accepted no excuses nor took any prisoners -- as I stood there with my wife and her parents proudly observing me having a personal conversation with the governor.

As he concluded his conversation (I had little anticipation that evening), he invited me to bring my in-laws to the Capitol for a visit with him and instructed me to give them his best.

The following day, when I was covering another story at the Capitol, Gov. O'Callaghan saw me, and it was as if the previous night's conversation had never happened. Once he expressed his opinion, he moved on with the friendship, but I never thought for a minute he forgot that one mishap.

I learned a valuable lesson from him during that episode, one of many during my years in Nevada: You can be tough and demanding, but you also can be a friend.

Later, when he had left the governorship, and I had accepted a staff position in the office of Gov. Robert List, O'Callaghan would occasionally call me to check on how his successor was faring, and he always had a bit of advice or wisdom for me to pass on to Gov. List.

During one period of time when there were several challenges to be faced and a gang of critics to Monday-morning-quarterback every move, the former governor called me on Nevada Day and wanted to know where Gov. List was. I told him he was at the governor's residence. Gov. O'Callaghan instructed me to go fetch him and take him "among the people, who will lift his spirits." I followed the orders unquestionably, and he was right.

Another lesson: When things are tough, don't hide out.

During the List administration there would be periodic rumors that former Gov. O'Callaghan, who remained incredibly popular, might run for the post again. As re-election neared a Las Vegas reporter asked me if the current governor had any one potential opponent he would not want to face. Replying all too quickly, I proclaimed we would defeat any opponent.

The headline in the newspaper the next day was "List Aide Says O'Callaghan Will Be Beat."

I wasted no time tracking down my mentor, Gov. O'Callaghan, to try to put it in context. He laughed, informed me he was sure he could beat our a-----, and thanked me for calling.

Another lesson: If you've got a problem, confront it rather than run.

Over the years I moved on to other challenges and opportunities, but I often thought of the lessons learned from the blustering, laughing, and sometimes shouting, Irishman in Nevada. Our paths crossed a couple of times, and I was honored at least twice when he mentioned my adventures in his Las Vegas Sun column.

Numerous times over the years I have found myself ready to dial the phone to let a reporter or employee know my thoughts, and I have always made it a rule that the next day it was back to business as usual in each relationship.

Our days in Nevada will always be special, and one reason is that the governor personally reached out to welcome us to his state, the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

I have missed him for years now. But, while his death brings finality, somehow I find its sadness is sweetened by the memories of gentle encouragements laced with occasional harsh reprimands from Gov. "Iron Mike" O'Callaghan.