When my husband and I met 35 years ago, I could never have imagined all the twists and turns our lives would take—or that they would take us to Capitol Hill.
We met at an after-work event in Columbus, Ohio. I was a 27-year-old advertising account executive, and Harley was a 28-year-old attorney with a large law firm in town. I had created central Ohio’s first emergency walk-in shelter for homeless families. I just happened to need a handsome, smart attorney to file the legal papers.
It was our first project together but would not be our last. After we married in 1990, we were fortunate to have four amazing children in five years and to settle into the charming community of Upper Arlington, Ohio.
I continued to work in journalism and marketing, while Harley made a move from the law firm to his family’s residential real estate company. Harley decided to do a roll-up of 14 Ohio real estate companies and asked me if I’d like to create the brand. I jumped at the chance.
It was a wonderful, fast-moving time. And then, the real estate crash came, which hit Ohio early and hard. Those were tough and dark times for so many, including us. We sold our company and moved to California. My dream was to become a novelist, and that came true in 2011 when my first novel was published. I knew Harley’s dream was to run for political office. After the 2016 election, it was time for that dream to come true, too.
A few days after the election, a friend pointed out that our congressman, Dana Rohrabacher, had won again. He’d been in office since 1989, and we agreed it was time for someone to take him on. I told her Harley would do it, and hurried home to tell him. He thought I was kidding at first. He’d never held public office, he pointed out. I reminded him that he’d led large companies, worked for the community in innumerable ways, loved history and our country, and that it had always been his dream.
He says it was the biggest decision he’s ever made, with the least due diligence. But he jumped in, and so did our entire family.
Campaigns, especially in swing districts, are tough and mean. As a family who hadn’t run for office on a national stage before, we had a lot to learn. The attack ads would roll off Harley’s shoulders; for family members, it was harder. As the spouse, you want to fight back, but your job is to smile, clap at the speech you’ve heard a few dozen times, and try to keep a poker face during the debates that attack your husband.
Harley shone through and won the primary in 2018, beating a fellow Democrat by 175 votes. In what would become the most expensive congressional race in history, fueled by the efforts of 6,000 volunteers, Harley defeated the 30-year incumbent in the general election.
A surreal few months followed, as we packed our bags and headed to orientation in DC. With the rest of the class of 2018, we scrambled to find housing and to learn our way around the city.
Because Rohrabacher didn’t concede the race, Harley would take over his office, avoiding the lottery which puts freshman members of Congress in the worst offices as the more senior members move to better digs.
Harley ended up with a huge office in the Rayburn House Building, with a stunning view of the Capitol dome. This was the first of many surprises, including the fact that it was customary for the spouse to decorate the space. This, of course, in addition to furnishing an apartment and hosting friends and family for the swearing-in ceremony. As a writer, accustomed to a more quiet, solitary life, the changes came fast and furious.
Orientation included visits to Boston, lectures at Harvard and a sensational dinner at the Kennedy Library; an Amtrak train trip to Colonial Williamsburg, where I had a chance to meet Madeleine Albright; and an elegant dinner inside Statuary Hall in the Capitol, surrounded by the weight of history. Those were some of the highlights. We also had sessions on security, and the rising number of threats to members of Congress and their families. When Harley was in office, we did not receive a security detail. Thankfully, that’s changed.
The most terrifying times to be the wife of a swing state congressman are during large public events. We were rushed by a man who yelled horrible things and threw firecrackers at us during a 4th of July parade in Huntington Beach. We were used to the boos and jeers, the backs turned along the route, but this was terrifying. And as I mentioned, we didn’t have security.
Another large townhall event found us surrounded by right-wing protestors as we tried to get back to our car. Eventually police arrived. The scariest part—in addition to the trackers with cameras shoved in your face wherever you go, and the dark web death threats—is that you don’t know who, or what, awaits at the next event, especially when the environment is this polarized and rage-filled.
We ended up hiring our own security on my insistence. We’d place our undercover security guards near Harley on stage and others scattered in the room watching the crowd. I wanted to take every precaution possible to ensure his safety.
Spouses receive special orientation at The Congressional Club Museum and Foundation, the first bipartisan club for spouses of members of Congress, founded in 1908. In the overwhelming swirl of events, The Congressional Club became a welcoming place.
Spouses on The Hill can be as involved as they’d like to be. Some, especially those with small children, have a big choice about whether to move to DC or stay in the district. I was lucky as with my career, I can write anywhere, so I split my time between DC and Laguna Beach.
Serving in Congress is the privilege of a lifetime, and if you’re committed to doing the work, a 24-hour, seven day a week job. I did worry about the pace and pressure that would come with Harley serving in office and came to understand how limited our time together would be.
Spouses on the hill learn to plan their family’s schedules as far in advance as possible, to carve out anniversaries and birthdays on the calendar, because if you don’t, the time is taken by either the district office or the official side. I even became proficient at navigating the maze of tunnels under Capitol Hill to meet Harley after votes, as we tried to carve out as much time together as possible.
I made lifelong friends, who, like me, were first-time political spouses. We’d get together and share our worries, our frustration at the crazy schedules, and we bonded as you do when you’re the only people who understand what each other are going through. I dedicated my new book, The Widow, to the spouses and families of politicians. Few know of their service and sacrifice to our country.
Harley was named chair of the Oversight Committee’s subcommittee on the environment, and he used his gavel to shed light on PFAS pollution among many other important causes. I’ll never forget sitting in hearings and watching him grill polluters, holding them accountable for what they had done. The testimony of the victims brought tears to my eyes, and his. Harley also led hearings on the rapid rise of domestic terrorism, with terrifying testimony by our nation’s foremost experts.
Unfortunately, our time together in DC ended with the pandemic, with lockdowns in March. Harley traveled back and forth as usual, often on almost empty airplanes, because he considered it his duty to show up and not use the proxy vote option.
It was campaign season again, but instead of an army of volunteers going door-to-door in our district, the Democrats stayed home. The Republicans did not. The blue wave energy was gone, but as two visits by President Trump to our district before the election attest to, the other side was energized.
After doing so much for the district, November 2020 was a heartbreaking loss. Movers packed up our things and sent them back to Laguna Beach. And after a few months’ break, Harley jumped back in, ready to prepare for the next election in 2022.
He assembled his team, who were a bit concerned about my novel, The Widow, about a cheating congressman’s wife who takes his seat when he dies of suspicious causes. But they decided if The Widow was what the opposition would attack Harley on, we were in great shape. We never had the chance to find out.
On family vacation last December, we read a tweet from Katie Porter announcing she would run in our district this cycle. Harley bowed out for the good of the party, but it was still a tough blow.
At the same time, however, life is less stressful. It’s a relief not to worry about Harley on the campaign trail. The bullet-proof vest now hangs in the back of the closet. Death threats against Harley, me and our kids have dissipated.
We look back at our time in DC with wonder and gratitude. We made friends for life, and so many memories. I’m astounded by all the good Harley was able to do and know he had so much more to give. Maybe he will be able to serve the country again. In politics, as in life, you never know what’s around the corner.
Kaira Rouda is an author. Her latest book, The Widow, will be published on 12/1.
All views expressed in this article are the author’s own.
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