It was late 1992, and downtown Little Rock was the temporary center of the news universe. Gov. Bill Clinton had been elected president on Nov. 3, and his transition team was based in Little Rock.
A former department store a block from the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette newsroom had been transformed into a media center, and journalists from around the world packed the building. On a daily basis, news conferences were held to announce key members of the Clinton administration. I was the political editor of this newspaper, and we were scrambling to cover every aspect of this story that was playing out on our doorstep.
From an Arkansas standpoint, the biggest announcement of all came when Clinton said he had named his longtime friend from Hope, Thomas Franklin "Mack" McLarty III, to serve as White House chief of staff.
McLarty, who had been an all-state quarterback in high school and was later elected governor of Arkansas Boys State, was the chief executive officer of natural gas company Arkla Inc., a position he had held since 1983.
This newspaper had covered Clinton's news conference, of course, but I felt strongly that we should seek an exclusive one-on-one interview later that day with McLarty. I knew just who to call.
McLarty's right-hand man at Arkla was James Luin "Skip" Rutherford III, a Batesville native. McLarty and Rutherford both have III in their names, but they also have something else in common. In Arkansas business and political circles, one only has to use the nickname.
Say "Mack" or "Skip" and everybody knows who you mean. Between them, McLarty and Rutherford seemingly are on a first-name basis with everyone in Arkansas.
I had become friends with Rutherford and knew a couple of things about him. I knew he had been a journalism major at the University of Arkansas and edited the school newspaper, the Arkansas Traveler, during his senior year of 1971-72. He has a special place in his heart for journalists. I also knew he loves Arkansas. If he were to help any entity on this day, it would be Arkansas' statewide newspaper.
"Skip, you've got to get me in to see Mack this afternoon," I said to him on the phone. "We're the largest newspaper in the state, and you guys owe it to us rather than doing an interview with one of the television networks, The Washington Post or The New York Times."
"Man, I've got every political reporter in the world calling right now," a stressed-out Rutherford responded. "I don't think I can pull that off."
I was insistent, playing to his state pride. Finally, Rutherford said: "OK, there's a maintenance entrance that no one has staked out. Be here at 5 p.m., and I'll get you into the building."
The transition media center was a block west of our newsroom. The Arkla headquarters was two blocks east. I walked to the Arkla building, where reporters were staked out at the front door waiting for McLarty to come out. I went to the back. Feeling like a participant in some illicit activity, I looked around to make sure no one was watching, then knocked on the metal door. Skip, looking as if he hadn't slept in days, opened it and ushered me up to McLarty's office.
As usual, McLarty's hair was neatly combed, his suit looked as if it had just been pressed, he was calm, and he spoke in measured tones. I had my interview.
Earlier this month, Rutherford, 70, announced that he will retire at the end of June as dean of the University of Arkansas Clinton School of Public Service. Rutherford, who saw to it that the Clinton Presidential Center would be built on the banks of the Arkansas River in the capital city, has been dean since 2006. He has turned down annual raises since 2008 and not raised tuition. Tuition costs remain $400 per subject hour for the two-year 40-hour program. That's just $16,000.
"Many students who enter the Clinton School already have substantial student loan debt," Rutherford says. "I'm sensitive to that. Of our new students this fall, 64 percent have undergraduate debt. That's the highest percentage I've seen since becoming dean. I've seen students entering our program with more than $100,000 in undergraduate debt. As dean, I've tried to keep operating and overhead expenses low. The school has no long-term debt. We've had no budget shortfalls and no pandemic furloughts or layoffs like so many other schools.
"The majority of Clinton School graduates are millennials. They lived through the 2008 recession, and now they're living through the pandemic. Many are still under the age of 40, and recent graduates are just beginning their careers. Yet while the national percentage of alumni giving for colleges averages 11 percent, the Clinton School has already surpassed that number in 2020. That says something about the job we're doing."
I once thought of Rutherford as the ultimate political animal. After all, he started the Political Animals Club in Little Rock, which is going strong after 37 years. It led to similar organizations at Fayetteville, Jonesboro and Monticello.
As a boy, Rutherford became interested in politics and rooted for Republican Winthrop Rockefeller in his gubernatorial campaigns. Rutherford later became what he describes as "a Dale Bumpers-David Pryor Democrat." He was a volunteer in Pryor's successful 1978 U.S. Senate campaign, then ran Pryor's Little Rock office from 1979-83 before joining McLarty at Arkla.
Rutherford was elected to the Little Rock School Board in the late 1980s, and in 1989 was selected as chairman of the Arkansas Democratic Party. He says he has stayed away from partisan politics for the past 14 years, preferring to analyze and comment on campaigns rather than participate in them.
"When I became dean, I did what the late Richard Arnold said he did upon becoming a federal judge," Rutherford says. "I left politics at the door."
For years, I was part of a breakfast group that met on a regular basis at Cuz Fisher's on East Broadway in North Little Rock. Our group consisted of Rutherford, veteran Little Rock banker and business leader Gene Fortson, state Sen. Bill Gwatney, North Little Rock business owner Walter "Bubba" Lloyd Jr., and me.
I worked for Republican Gov. Mike Huckabee at the time. Skip was a former state Democratic chairman, and Gwatney was a future party chairman. Fortson was the voice of reason who had raised money and run campaigns for Democrats and Republicans through the years. Lloyd was far to the right of all of us. It was an interesting mix.
Alas, Fisher's closed and Gwatney was murdered in his office at Democratic Party headquarters in Little Rock in August 2008 in one of the great tragedies of modern Arkansas history. Rutherford, Fortson, Lloyd and I have continued to meet for breakfast from time to time in the dozen years since Gwatney's death, but it has never been the same.
Whereas I used to think of Rutherford as the ultimate political animal, I now think of him as Mr. Arkansas. He has a deep interest in this state, especially its rural areas, and wants to find ways to help those areas succeed in the knowledge-based economy of the 21st century. I expect efforts along those lines will take up much of Rutherford's time in retirement.
Rutherford has begun to accompany me more often on my road trips throughout Arkansas. Trips planned by Rutherford to places such as Batesville, Newport, Cave City and Clarendon have resulted not only in columns but also in larger cover stories that I've written for this newspaper's Perspective section.
I'm hopeful that he will consider being a more frequent travel companion once this awful pandemic ends and the calendar turns to July, making him officially retired. There are still lots of beautiful Arkansas places to see, interesting people to interview, and greasy spoons in which to eat.
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Rex Nelson is a senior editor at the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette.