The Baltimore Sun November 11, 1998, Wednesday,
Copyright 1998 The Baltimore Sun Company
The Baltimore Sun
November 11, 1998, Wednesday, FINAL EDITION
SECTION: TELEGRAPH (NEWS), Pg. 1A
LENGTH: 1408 words
HEADLINE: From humiliation to political triumph; Owens' 1994 drubbing followed by stunning Anne Arundel victory
BYLINE: Tom Pelton, SUN STAFF
BODY:
Her mother stood beside her that miserable night four years
ago at Michael's Eighth Avenue catering hall in Glen Burnie when Janet
S. Owens
suffered a humiliating political defeat, losing in a landslide
her bid to become court clerk.
Dorothy Owens, then 71, looked at her genteel but stubborn
daughter, who had spent her career as a social services administrator,
and
proclaimed that she was not meant for the "dirty" world
of politics.
"She said, 'Never again! I never want you to get involved in a campaign again!' " Janet Owens said.
Four years later, the elder Owens did not see her daughter
defy the skepticism of her family and the opposition of every county elected
official
in her Democratic Party to beat an incumbent Anne Arundel
County executive who had five times as much campaign money. She became
the
first woman elected to the job and the only challenger
to defeat an incumbent for the office. Dorothy Owens was not there when
her daughter
won a thunderous standing ovation in the State House the
day after the election. She died of a heart attack in her sleep shortly
after her
daughter failed in her bid to become court clerk in 1994.
What would she have thought about her daughter's landslide victory over the most powerful man in county politics?
"She would have been thrilled," said Janet Owens' husband,
David Sheehan. "But she would also have been horribly mortified, because
she did
not have a high opinion of politicians."
Owens' supporters paint her victory as an example of how
big money and incumbency don't always rule in politics. They say even underdogs
such as Owens can win if they have faith in themselves
and the help of their neighbors.
But Kathleen S. Skullney, executive director of Common
Cause/Maryland, cautioned against reading too much into this year's elections.
There
were a number of freakish victories this year, Skullney
said, including that of a former professional wrestler elected governor
of Minnesota.
"Let us not forget that this is the year of Jesse 'The
Body' Ventura," said Skullney, whose nonprofit organization lobbies for
campaign-finance
reform. "Before we paint too optimistic a picture here,
we should realize that her story is not the norm these days. Big money
remains a huge
factor in elections."
Gov. Parris N. Glendening said Owens' victory was not freakish.
"Janet's victory was a testament to her own perseverance
and determination," said the governor. "Like many Democrats, myself included,
she
proved the pundits wrong who had predicted she couldn't
win."
To beat Republican John G. Gary last week, Owens had to
endure the abuse of the Democratic machine in northern Anne Arundel County.
She
said that abuse included a threat against her family by
an elected official she won't identify.
The Democrats were trying to strong-arm her out of running
in the primary against their candidate, former County Council Chairwoman
Diane R.
Evans, a former Republican whom top Democrats had recruited
to their party for her name recognition.
"I was harassed, threatened, told to go no place alone,"
Owens said of her party. "In June, I got a call at home saying that my
family was not
safe. It was a real knock-down, drag-out. But I always
had confidence that I could win."
That stubbornness came in part from her mother, who was
such a dominant force in her daughter's life that friends kept bringing
up her name on
election night.
Janet Owens, 54, was born on a rolling 185-acre tobacco
farm in Bristol that the family has owned since before the Civil War. The
Owenses
immigrated from Wales in the late 1600s and were so important
in southern Anne Arundel that Owensville was named after them.
"They were old colonists, the Owenses," said the Rev. David
K. Leighton, the 11th bishop of the Episcopal Church of Maryland, to which
the
family belongs. "They were tobacco farmers back when when
tobacco farming was the lifeblood of Anne Arundel County."
Dorothy Owens was an outgoing, energetic "ball of fire" with a lively sense of humor whose daughter looked much like her, Leighton said.
Dot Owens was a Southern socialite, famous for cooking
and decorating her home with flowers for 40-person banquets at Christmas
and
Thanksgiving. She played the ukulele and sang for her
guests, acquaintances said.
She was also a strong-willed woman who didn't believe in
self-pity. Once, one of her best friends, neighbor Leola Collinson, suffered
a stroke
and didn't feel up to a game of cards. Dot Owens came
down hard on her.
"She said, 'Leola, get up and go! Let's play bridge. You
can't feel sorry for yourself,' " Janet Owens recalled. "And Leola said,
'For God's sake,
Dot! I've had a stroke!' "
Until her 50s, Dot Owens spent most of her time raising her daughters, Janet and Jennifer, with her husband, Kenneth.
Then she launched a career as a real estate agent and developer,
sometimes working seven days a week selling about 200 subdivided lots in
Calvert County, said Joseph B. Waters, owner of the J.
B. Waters and Associates Inc. real estate company in Prince Frederick,
for which the
elder Owens worked.
Janet Owens left the farm to complete all but her dissertation
for a doctorate in educational administration from the University of Massachusetts
in Amherst.
In Amherst, Owens met Sheehan, an attorney. She became
the Massachusetts assistant secretary for criminal justice, the No. 2 official
in
charge of the state's prisons. He was the state's assistant
attorney general.
The couple has two sons, Christopher Sheehan, 21, and Brendan Sheehan, 18.
The family moved to Millersville in 1983, and Owens became director of housing and senior services for Anne Arundel County.
She won an elected post as Orphans' Court judge in 1990
but gave up on politics after losing the court clerk's race in 1994, when
many
Democrats were swept out of office by a Republican landslide.
Her mother died about three months later, Feb. 23, 1995.
Dot Owens had worked all day, went to bed and failed to show up for a lunch
date
the next day with her daughters in Annapolis.
"It was a horrible time," Owens said. "There's no question that my mother was my best friend."
Anger fueled Owens' return to politics. Driving between
the family's home in Millersville and the farm in Bristol, she became increasingly
irritated
by the growing traffic in what had been countryside.
She said she was infuriated by the county executive, Gary,
who seemed to do nothing to stop suburban sprawl. She began seriously thinking
about running in August 1997, after the Maryland State
Teachers Association conducted a poll that found Gary had high negative
ratings and
could be beaten by a woman from South County.
Owens thought Gary's arrogant, combative personality would
make him self-destruct, but she also knew that his record-breaking political
fund
raising would scare off most Democratic challengers.
Almost all of Owens' best friends tried to persuade her not to run against Gary, who had a reputation for bare-knuckled politics.
"I tried to talk her out of it, because I knew Gary would get nasty," said Pat LoCasio, an adviser to Owens' campaign.
Laughed William F. Chaney, a lifelong friend and treasurer of her campaign, "I thought she didn't have a chance."
Campaigning on the issues of more money for schools and
slower development, Owens won a rough primary against Evans on Sept. 15
and went
on to beat Gary by a wide margin in the general election.
Key to her victory was support from the teachers union, which marched like
an army
for her out of anger that Gary had forced cuts in school
programs.
Why didn't she listen to her friends?
"I just really thought they were all wrong," Owens laughed.
"Some people say it's the water where I grew up in Bristol. We are all
very
independent-minded people."
Now, many in the Democratic establishment that fought her
are lining up outside the Spartan offices of her transition team in the
county's
Heritage Office Complex on Riva Road in Annapolis.
Her desk is littered with messages from people asking for
favors from the farmer's daughter who couldn't even get elected court clerk.
Even Vice
President Al Gore called to congratulate her.
Her mother would have been skeptical of all this power.
"She would have been happy for me," said Owens. "But she
would have been worried. She would think, 'Oh oh, what has Janet gotten
herself
into now?' "
Pub Date: 11/11/98