Scenes from a picnic - What you didn’t see when the transfer of power went down

“I hope she takes this opportunity to be statesman-like, and let it be Parnell’s day; it’s his inauguration,” Representative Jay Ramras (R-Fairbanks) says on the deck of his restaurant, Pike’s Landing, the day before the Fairbanks governor’s picnic. The picnic is where Governor Sarah Palin would turn the reins of the executive branch over to former Lieutenant Governor Sean Parnell. The deck overlooks the Chena River, and though the temperature is in the 70s, a haze of smoke from the wildfires near Fairbanks hangs over the water.

Ramras admits that he’s been hard on Palin for the past two years—“deservedly so, I think,” he says—but is giving her the benefit of the doubt that she’ll let Sunday be Parnell’s day.

Nearby on the deck, Fairbanks North Star Borough Mayor Jim Whitaker is sitting with Representative John Harris (R-Valdez). Harris filed his intent to run in the Republican state primary for governor a mere four days after Palin’s surprise resignation announcement at her Wasilla home on July 3. It’s Fairbanks’ annual Golden Days celebration, the city’s largest festival, replete with a massive Saturday morning parade, and Harris is here to campaign. “He’s probably not going to necessarily be the most moneyed candidate, so he’s working the grass roots network, meeting voters,” Ramras says.

The next morning, prior to the picnic, there are even more elected officials lounging on the deck at Pike’s Landing. Ramras says he invited all members of the legislature, but it appears to be a primarily Republican contingent, including Senators Con Bunde and Lesil McGuire of Anchorage (along with McGuire’s 3-year-old son, Grayson); Representatives Harris and Anna Fairclough (Eagle River); along with a contingent of young Republicans and the state directors for Senator Lisa Murkowski and Congressman Don Young.

The sun’s coming out as Ramras’s guests enjoy brunch at Pike’s Landing, and there’s definitely a party-like atmosphere in the air. It rained on the Governor’s Picnic in Anchorage, and you can tell that the contingent of political folk from the big city is enjoying the Interior weather, despite the lingering smoke.

Around noon everyone begins filtering out, heading for Pioneer Park. Even then, with the transfer of power not due until 3 p.m., nearby parking is almost nonexistent; people are walking a long way from their vehicles to the park’s entrance. Pioneer Park was formerly known as Alaskaland, and is still referred to as such by many Fairbanksans. It makes sense: Besides the huge ferryboat Nenana in the center of the park, from which the Palin and Parnell families will eventually emerge, there are museums scattered across the grounds, a fairway with various shops and eateries, a merry-go-round, and a mini-golf course.

Just inside the entrance, two lines of people stretch towards two white tents; at one Governor-designate Parnell is serving hot dogs to attendees with his wife Sandy and several administration officials, including Corrections Commissioner Joe Schmidt, who until a last minute change of mind by Palin was confirmed to be the next lieutenant governor. (Palin chose Commissioner of the Department of Military and Veterans Affairs Craig Campbell instead, who’ll serve as temporary substitute lieutenant governor until his expected confirmation by the legislature at its special session on August 10 in Anchorage.)

The Palin line snakes far away from the tent, and even outside the line there’s a scrum of fans and onlookers fighting for space to snap photos of her. She’s smiling, with daughter Willow at her side.

Palin’s father, retired teacher Chuck Heath Sr., and her brother, Chuck Jr., a teacher at Gladys Wood Elementary in Anchorage, walk by smiling.

“We feel real good about what’s happening right now, that Sarah’s doing this for unselfish reasons,” Chuck Jr. says. “She’s doing it because she spent far too much time defending herself from all these frivolous accusations and she knows that she hasn’t been able to put 100 percent into the state, and Sean will follow her agenda—I’m sure he’ll have some ideas of his own too.”

Both father and brother swear they have no idea what Palin’s future plans are. “That’s the million dollar question,” Chuck Jr. says.

“Everyone thinks that we sit down and converse with Sarah at ends about politics; we never talk about politics with her,” Chuck Sr. adds. “It’s always sports or family. She hears enough of that crap from other people.”

They say today she’s experiencing both relief and melancholy. “She doesn’t want to leave a sour taste in people’s mouths,” Chuck Jr. says. “She would hope that they would understand she’s doing this in the best interest of the state. It hasn’t been portrayed that way, unfortunately, in a lot of the media. And I hope people will come to understand that.”

Not far away from the Heaths is Jason Jones, a correspondent for The Daily Show, interviewing attendees. “We don’t want to talk to them,” Chuck Sr. says.

Jeffrey Daniel Smith, a Fairbanks resident who’s just eaten a hot dog that Palin served him, says that he asked her not to leave the office of governor. “She’s doing great—do not give up the fight! Stay with it!” Still, he’s giving Parnell a chance. “If he’s as hard of a worker as she is, then I say go for it.”

Over near where the dignitaries have a fenced-in seating area, Senator Bunde and Representative Fairclough are mingling with former Anchorage Daily News Editorial Page Editor Michael Carey and others. Fairclough says it’s a historic day, and she agrees with Palin’s decision to resign. “I look forward to working with Governor Parnell, and I wish Governor Palin success in whatever she chooses to do. I’m happy to be part of history being made. And I think it’ll be interesting to see what the governor chooses to do in her future.”

Considering how the legislature will interact with Governor Parnell, she points out that he has experience in the oil and gas industry (Parnell was once a lobbyist for ConocoPhillips), and, being a former legislator himself, he understands Alaska’s past, and how the executive and legislative branches’ roles operate with one another.

On the other side of the park, in the vendors’ fairway, Bob Gibson, owner of Santa’s Candles and Gifts, says he trusts Palin’s decision and that Governor Parnell will continue her legacy. “I think he’s gonna do a lot for the state; I think he’s got good traditions. He’s down to earth people, just like Sarah. And I think he’s a little bit softer spoken than her, but he will get the job done, and I think she’s right in turning it over to him.”

Gibson had printed up t-shirts with a photo of Palin inside a heart, and the words, “Thanks Sarah, we still love you,” along with the location and date on them. He opened his shop at 8 a.m., and he says he sold out the 200 shirts he’d ordered by 9 a.m. He’d wanted to print 1,000 or 1,500, but his wife convinced him to be conservative. Now he’s compiling a waiting list for reordering shirts.

Major Charles Nesloney, executive officer for the Alaska Army National Guard’s 297th Cavalry in Fairbanks, is walking through the fairway, looking warm in his uniform as the temperature’s crept above 80 degrees. He and his fellow Guardsmen—there is a large contingent present—are here to support both Palin and Parnell as their commander-in-chief, he says, but also to interact with the people they defend. “Being in the Guard allows us to connect back with the local people where we’re at; it’s more about getting out here in the community and letting them know that we support them no matter what their opinions are. No matter what it is, we’re here to defend the nation and defend the state for them.”

As it nears 3 p.m., the media have squeezed into the fenced in area, behind where the dignitaries are seated. Quite a few are from national outlets: The Associated Press’s Washington D.C. bureau has sent up Matthew Daly to cover the transfer of power. “We’re not tired of the story at all,” he says of Palin. “We think she’s someone who has a lot of followers and want to know what she’s doing. She represents a large constituency of the Republican Party, and also of all types—there are independents and Democrats that support her, and also she obviously has people who oppose her.”

She does indeed. Although the majority of handmade signs are supportive of Palin, there are a number critical of her. A selection: “QUIT BABY QUIT”; “QUITTING: THE NEW AMERICAN VALUE”; “QUITTING: HER MOST RESPONSIBLE ACT”; Sick of Sarah”; and most curiously, “Bong hits for Sarah.”

This is Daly’s first trip to Alaska, as it is for Jonathan Martin, a National Review veteran now with the D.C.-based outlet Politico. Squinting in the sun, with an unnecessary fleece jacket tied around his waist, Martin says he’s struck by the number of tourists who happened to be in Alaska and took time out of their vacations to attend one of the three Governor’s Picnics leading up to the transfer of power.

“It underscores, I think, the deep and abiding curiosity about her,” Martin says. “There’s a really interesting dynamic here, sort of in-state versus out-of-state perspective. Some of her biggest detractors are from in state, and some of her biggest supporters are from out of state—which isn’t to say she doesn’t have support here too, but it’s one of those fascinating undercurrents.”

Shortly after 3 p.m., the Palin and Parnell families, along with Campbell, Alaska Supreme Court Justice Daniel Winfree, and other dignitaries take the stage. Senator Gene Therriault (R-North Pole) is the master of ceremonies, and draws a laugh when he says, “please be seated” to the crowd of thousands (it was intended for the politicians, family members, and servicemen and women in the fenced off area).

During her speech, Palin will famously address the media, saying, “So, how about, in honor of the American soldier, ya quit makin’ things up.” That draws the biggest response from the crowd, though it makes some in the media area quite uncomfortable, surrounded by what the state estimated to be more than 5,000 onlookers.

Palin finishes her farewell speech, which is 18 and a half minutes long and sounds more like a campaign stump speech than a goodbye. Campbell and Parnell are sworn in, and give their respective addresses to the crowd—Campbell’s clocks in at just over six minutes, and Parnell’s is a little less than 13. The guard has changed, and Sarah Palin is once again a civilian, with a nation ravenous for news about what her next move will be.

bjk@anchoragepress.com