Lexington, KY - It is hard to imagine Kentucky absent of Gatewood. Gatewood Galbraith was a man, after all, who needed not state his last name to be recognized. Simply, Gatewood was Gatewood. Even his flaws endeared him to us evermore. He meant so much to so many, and each for different reasons, seemingly none of which had anything to do with the other. Yet if you look closely, Gatewood's supporters shared some unique defining qualities - their continued dissatisfaction with Kentucky's deplorable status and their eagerness to affect change for the better.
Gatewood was able to convince each that it was their cause he held dear and they themselves that mattered. At a Gatewood gathering, all political extremes were represented; Republicans, Democrats, independents, ultra-conservative, ultra-liberal, moderates, Tea Party, militia, environmentalist, cannabis advocates, hemp advocates, veterans, hippies draped in tie-dye brandishing pot leaf insignias from head to toe (young and old), union members, the fringe, and dozens of Gatewood groupies who simply loved to hear him curse the system and share the tales of his exploits with Willie Nelson and Jack Herer.
They all claimed Gatewood as their champion and inserted their individual cause into his message. They espoused their dissatisfaction, their angst and even vitriolic anger through Gatewood. He was the catchall. Many were convenient supporters while others were loyal, but everyone called upon Gatewood when they needed a champion.
Gatewood embraced the mentally ill, the disabled, those addicted and the poor. Gatewood knew we were all in this boat together and valued our likeness more than our differences. Gatewood was never so afraid that he turned his head away and pretended not to notice. He reached out to and included them, strived to understand their despair and served as their voice.
I admired him most for his inclusion of those intentionally marginalized and purposefully excluded. I used to say to him, "You have an extraordinary tolerance for mental illness." He would smile and respond, "You're learning that from me."
Never did he miss a lick. He always took time to listen. He was fair. He found extremism the natural trajectory towards reform, and it fazed him not.
Many complain and curse, but only a rare few will stand up and voluntarily place themselves into the mire of political candidacy. Gatewood did so seven times. Maybe Gatewood did this because he personally understood what it felt like to be discounted. Or maybe he had that big of an ego. But I had the privilege of knowing the whole man, and I will tell you that he did what he did to enable us to make a difference in our community, the great commonwealth of Kentucky, and ourselves - no matter what anyone else thought. Gatewood believed government should serve only to "uplift, ennoble and enlighten the people."
Gatewood was the self-appointed flag bearer for the average person. He gallantly charged to the front line of the political battle to accomplish recognition and demand accountability owed the people. While others sheepishly retreated, Gatewood never faltered to initiate those tough conversations (long before they were popular, lucrative or science proved him right). He was not just a perennial candidate, but a man ahead of his time. He asked sarcastically in reference to the restoration of hemp as an agricultural crop, "How many more multimillion-dollar ideas do I have to come up with before they listen and take me seriously?"
He used that inherent intellect and commanding baritone voice to challenge tradition and succinctly point out the systemic failures perpetuated by Kentucky's intellectually limited and morally defunct leadership. He used humor to soften the blow of his astute words and charm to solicit alliances. He offered solutions, proposed programs and generously offered input. He did so without ever behaving as a snob. He possessed self-respect enough to put under-qualified critics into their appropriate perspective and gained the respect of his opponents for doing so.
He created a public dialog and shone a bright revealing light on the very issues plaguing our state, stifling progress for new generations.
He was never embarrassed to stand on a street corner and hold his campaign sign - we were worth it. He often said to me, "Dragons aren't so scary when you drag them out of their cave into the light to slay."
State leaders, due to professional jealousy, dismissed his offerings. But to the people, his advice was simply good common sense.
Gatewood helped us to believe we could make a difference, if only .... .
Hope serves as the single greatest catalyst in which to affect genuine change. Gatewood gave us hope, and he did it all while wearing a hat.
He enabled the ordinary person to have a voice in the political process. He inspired the disenfranchised, the downtrodden, the victims of injustice and those moral enough to admit he was right. He loved God, country, Kentucky, family and friends with equal passion. He lived free and enabled us all to gaze upon what real freedom looks like - right and proper. There is no greater teacher than example; vicariously, we all enjoyed a taste of freedom provided us via our association with Gatewood. He taught us countless lessons, which enabled us knowledge enough to ensure our own freedoms.
Kentucky enjoyed for too brief a moment a towering brilliant man who stood our ground and took up our flank. He served as a constant reminder that we, the people, are still here and that individual freedom is worth fighting for at all costs. He exerted the people's rightful authority in the process of government through his persistent political candidacy, practice of law, sharp wit and compassion. Gatewood forced the powers that be to take notice not just of Gatewood but also of us all. That was his greatness. His hope was that Kentucky would shine as a model of how democracy worked. He said, "I just want to see if America is still there - I want to wake them up," and he did so.
I have sat and watched since his passing many analyze Gatewood, his life, his legacy and overall contribution. Some got it right and some got it wrong. Many took great liberties in their conclusions. But by far, the majority seemed stupefied, left scratching their heads as to how it is they missed the overall relevance Gatewood had on the public; they genuinely didn't know.
Politics is the excuse, but ignorance is the reason. I'm not surprised so many remain dumbfounded by the public's response to Gatewood's death. The status of our state proves those same ones are equally dumbfounded by the very issues that affect Kentuckians most.
Gatewood reattached relevance to politics by reminding us why it is that elected officials should behave as servants. Reporters have described Gatewood as colorful, perennial and even comic in an attempt to sum up his unique life. But what they failed to report altogether is the fact that Gatewood got it right decades before they were able to formulate into intelligible words his relevance.
The fact that Gatewood evolved into Kentucky's most well-known political figure right under the noses of those who declare themselves in the know says more about the people of Kentucky than it does Gatewood. The fact that he never won a race in no way is an accurate measure of his success. In many regards, he has proven to be far more successful than those politicians who won races yet have left office in disgrace, or those remaining but now publicly scorned. He has quietly excused himself from the public spotlight to serve as a means in which to enable us to insert ourselves into it like never before.
Gatewood is irreplaceable - one of a kind. The outpouring of support proves the biblical lesson, "A prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and in his own household." The people who actually served alongside him know more than those who write the stories, the opportunists who tell tall tales on Gatewood, or even those who will attempt to profit from his life after his death.
What he enabled us to admit is that we can no longer make excuses. He enabled us with the necessary tools to do what we should have done all along and dare be brave enough to stand up for what is right. All he ever asked in return was to give him our vote. A simple vote. We missed our chance to elect him into public office, and we'll never know what it is we missed, but now the burden of his legacy is on all our heads. We no longer have Gatewood to enable our complacency. We must do the work for ourselves. Let's not be foolish enough to miss another great opportunity when it stares us in the face.
If he were here to read this, I know exactly what he would say to ease my grief: "Great job, but you left out my devilish good looks."
I would laugh and say, "Thanks, Gate. I won't let you down."
Dea Riley was Gatewood Galbraith's running mate in his 2010 bid for governor of Kentucky.