Minnesota Republicans this morning took aim at Al Franken for raising money for his U.S. Senate campaign at the Washington, D.C., home of Smith Bagley, an heir to the RJ Reynolds tobacco fortune. Franken has inveighed against “big tobacco,” the Republicans point out, calling his fundraiser “big hypocrisy.”
Franken isn’t the first Democratic Senate candidate from Minnesota to visit the Bagley home in search of money. In September 1990, Paul Wellstone knocked on the Bagley’s door looking for help, and he got a cool reception. Â
I was covering Wellstone’s campaign that year and I trailed along with him and his aides on their largely unsuccessful fundraising trip. Here’s an excerpt from a story I wrote after the 1990 election about Wellstone’s upset win:
The Georgetown mansion of Elizabeth and Smith Bagley is their first
after-lunch fund-raising call.
    Smith Bagley is an heir to the R.J. Reynolds tobacco fortune
who has split from the family business. Elizabeth Bagley likes to
work for and contribute to the campaigns of progressive candidates.
The couple are friends of former President Jimmy Carter, as
evidenced by a photograph of their infant daughter being bounced on
Carter’s knee. They were also big givers and fund-raisers in the
Dukakis campaign in 1988.
    Wellstone and his aides are greeted at the door by Lilly, a
maid whose salmon-colored uniform matches the marble in the foyer. A
Rembrandt hangs in the library.
    Elizabeth Bagley enters from the dining room, where candelabra
the size of rose bushes adorn the table. She is deeply tanned and
has recently returned from a vacation on Nantucket Island, off
Massachusetts, where she and her husband socialized with Sen. Ted
Kennedy - and with Boschwitz, a friend of Kennedy’s.
    Wellstone makes a brief presentation, stressing the grass-roots
nature of his campaign and his progressive politics.
    Bagley names a dozen people, asking if Wellstone has contacted
them and if they’ve contributed. Wellstone and Norm Kurz, a
Washington-based fund-raiser, admit that most haven’t been contacted
or won’t return their calls.
    Sensing that Bagley thinks he’s lazy, Wellstone tells about his
three-shirt-a-day primary campaign:
    “I haven’t been in a cafe in Minnesota in a year and a half
where there hasn’t been 30 to 35 people, sometimes 100, not for a
rally, just to talk about issues. Then I come here (Washington) and
it’s always, `I don’t know your name.’ ”
    Bagley says, “It’s a cynical town. And you’re one of many,
too.”
    Indeed, Lilly has greeted many candidates standing at her
employers’ front door with their hands out. When Kurz had asked for
an audience, Bagley says, she thought, “Oh, God, do I really have to
talk to one more person?”
     “I really have never even heard your name,” she says. “Whose
fault is that?” The question goes unanswered.
    Bagley agrees to make fund-raising calls on Wellstone’s behalf,
but she doesn’t say if she’ll write a check herself.
    She leads the group on a house tour. Through the foyer, into an
enclosed courtyard, down a flight of stairs to an underground
swimming pool, enclosed by marble columns and glass. The pool took
two years to build and is patterned after a pool at a Hong Kong
hotel.
    Then it’s through an exercise room with mirrored walls and a
ballet barre and into a casual family room with a large-screen TV.
As they walk back through the exercise room, Wellstone is so deeply
engaged in conversation with Bagley that he walks into one of the
mirrored walls.
    Outside, he laughs about it.
    “I just spent an hour and a half trying to impress this woman
and then I walk into a mirror and I almost break my nose. I’m not
used to being in places like this.”