Just 16 months into his tenure as Interior secretary, the oil-tainted waters roiling in the Gulf of Mexico threaten to engulf Ken Salazar, as attempts to stop the gusher fail.
It will take some time, and some good reporting, to know how much of the blame (if any of it) should lay at his feet. But he is the chief of the department that oversees drilling, and with high-profile events such as this, those in power are not often afforded that time. The oily mess is all over Salazar’s hands now, and could be his legacy at Interior, deservedly or not.
We hope it isn’t. But the department has a way of tarnishing reputations, as other Coloradans have learned.
Gale Norton left the administration of George W. Bush under a cloud, and her second in command, Steven Griles, was sent to prison for obstruction of justice. Even though a congressional probe found Norton wasn’t to blame, it left a sour taste in the public’s mouth and raised questions about who really ran Interior.
Norton’s former boss, James Watt, was Interior secretary under Ronald Reagan. Watt not only famously boasted that the Beach Boys weren’t welcome to perform on the Mall in Washington, D.C., because they would attract the wrong element (he wanted Wayne Newton instead) he was Mr. Drill, Baby, Drill, when Sarah Palin was still drilling 3s with a basketball. Watt had suggested all 80 million acres of undeveloped land in the United States be opened for drilling and mining by 2000. “We will mine more, drill more, cut more timber,” he said.
His tenure lasted only two years, and the mention of his name still makes the veins pop in the foreheads of greenies.
Presidents typically look to the West when searching for an Interior chief, given the vast swaths of public lands here. Colorado can boast six Interior secretaries.
Thanks to Barbara Hudson, one of The Post’s research librarians, I discovered last week that each has a colorful history. And while not as controversial as the three most recent chiefs, their stories are worth sharing.
Oscar L. Chapman
Interior secretary for the final three years of Harry S. Truman’s administration, Chapman was described by The Post in 1951 as “one of the most important men of his generation.” But he also was accused of being a communist.
Sixty years later, Chapman appears quiet prescient. Not only did he argue in the early ’50s for new electric power sources, which were necessary for the nation’s defense program, he also fought for big public water projects and dams to slake the thirst of a growing West.
And he pushed for new technologies that could someday distill salty ocean water into drinkable water. “Let Oscar Chapman prove that the ocean can be made to yield fresh water at low cost, and he indeed will alter the destinies of nations,” The Post wrote.
“Desalinization” of water exists today, but it’s still too costly to be a huge boon to developing countries. However, in March of this year, the USGS said technology is improving and costs are dropping.
Chapman was accused by a Kansas senator of being a communist, since he had belonged to a pro-Soviet group during World War II, to which The Post replied: “Senator Schoeppel seems to have gone plumb loco.” And in the category of My How Much Things Change Yet Remain the Same, Chapman defended the Truman administration from claims it was moving the country toward socialism. Ironically, he used robust earnings at General Motors to deflect such criticisms.
Dr. Hubert Work
Work served under Presidents Warren Harding and Calvin Coolidge from 1923-28.
He was best known for getting rid of all of the clocks in the Interior department — because he loathed clock-watchers — but he also was the guy who had to clean up after the Tea Pot Dome scandal.
Yet when he retired from public life (he also served as U.S. Postmaster and head of the Republican National Committee), The Post said “this tall, quiet and cordial man goes back to private life one of the least generally known men ever to figure in national affairs.”
A senator from Arkansas once challenged him on the Senate floor to a fight for his alleged treatment of a World War I veteran who wanted to talk about creating a national park in Arkansas. “I will waive any senatorial privileges, if I have any, if the secretary of Interior wants to answer me anywhere or at any time,” Sen. Thaddeus Caraway said.
Henry M. Teller
Teller was Interior chief for three years under President Chester A. Arthur, but I could find little about his tenure. He was better known as one of Colorado’s first senators, having served 20 years.And he was the original Senate party-hopper long before Ben Nighthorse Campbell. Originally a Democrat because his father was one, he jumped to the Republican Party during the Civil War. But then, in 1896, he famously walked out of the GOP national convention, to a chorus of cheers, when Republicans opted for the gold standard.
Teller was from a silver state, and eventually found his way back to the Democrats, led at the time by William Jennings Bryan, a free silver advocate famous for his “Cross of Gold” speech.
Editorial page editor Dan Haley can be reached at dhaley@denverpost.com. Follow him on Twitter at .
