Billie Sutton took 10 days to think about what he wanted to say on Gov. Kristi Noem’s leadership in the battle against COVID-19.
And after that, he decided to say nothing, except this: “I think I’m going to decline commenting for now,” Sutton said by phone. “I’ve thought about it, since we talked, and I don’t know if it’s healthy to criticize at this time. I don’t know that we need negativity right now. I don’t see myself as being negative, but whatever I say could be taken that way.”
It was a smart response. Politically savvy, I suppose. More than that, though, I think it might actually have been sincere. I know it was refreshing, to me at least. And I’m always hunting for refreshment in the stale, sour, predictable political world.
He’s right. Some would have taken whatever he said as a reason to strike back. And others would have celebrated any criticism of Noem and piled on. Take an already divided political landscape, throw in a deadly virus, and rational, reasonable conversations can be hard to sustain.
Still, it would have been easy political pickings for Sutton, the former Democratic state senator from Burke who lost a hotly contested race against Noem for governor in 2018. He could have taken some obvious potshots at Noem’s leadership on the virus response. Many in the opposition party have, and do, and will.
Some of those shots could have been valid. Others, perhaps, not so much. All would have been debatable, as would the wisdom and propriety of a former — and perhaps future — campaign opponent of Noem’s firing off criticism at a time when South Dakotans are sick and even dying of a dangerous, complicated disease.
Offering help in tornado recovery, COVID-19 impacts
Besides, Sutton had other things to focus on the day I called, including a meeting he was about to join of the Burke Community Long-term Recovery Group. The group was formed to offer financial help following the tornado that ripped through Sutton’s hometown last August. He is president of the board.
Members raised about $130,000 to provide grants to people who lost their homes or cars or suffered losses and damage that weren’t covered by insurance. In some cases, the grants authorized by the board covered deductibles.
People applied and offered details of their losses, and the board sent out two rounds of grants. They finished up with those recently and gave out all but $100 of the money raised. That remaining money will keep the account open as the group works to restructure itself to offer help locally in response to another kind of storm: COVID-19.
“The board decided we wanted to go ahead in that direction,” Sutton said. “It would be in response to things like the job losses, the businesses that either shut down or didn’t have anybody coming in even if they didn’t shut down. So now we’re seeing how we might help with the impacts of all that.”
Sutton and I talked about that project for a while, and about his job and the joys of a young family. And not until a few hours after we hung up, did I realized I hadn’t asked if there was anything new in his political life.
So, I called a day or two later and left a message about that. And a day or two later Sutton called back. This is the comfortable pace of a semi-retired reporter and a politician who’s not actively running for anything, right now.
Knowing when to cast and when to pick up
My cell phone rang — I actually have it set on ring tone — as I pitched a jig for walleyes or bass on the riprap face of Orman Dam near Belle Fourche.
There’s pretty reliable cell services out there. But I always need a good reason to stop casting and start talking. Billie Sutton’s name showing up on caller ID is a good reason.
After our greetings, I said I’d forgotten during our last chat to ask if there was anything notable on his political horizon, such as another statewide campaign. Less than two years ago he was the most competitive Democrat in a race for the South Dakota governor’s chair since Lars Herseth lost to George Mickelson in 1986.
And for a while late in the race, it seemed pretty clear that Sutton was going to win.
But Noem, a steely campaigner who doesn’t shy away from bruising rhetoric or campaign ads, has never lost. And she’s had some tough campaigns, against formidable opponents. She regrouped with crucial help from her party and party officials in the last month of that race. She won by a bit over 11,400 votes, leaving Sutton defeated but very much alive politically as his party’s best hope for a big-time win in South Dakota.
He was lobbied by some Democrats to challenge first-term Republican Congressman Dusty Johnson this year for the state’s only U.S. House seat.
“Yeah, I got some encouragement on that,” Sutton said.
But gearing up to challenge a tough Republican incumbent, even in his first term, in a heavily Republican state is a daunting proposition for a Democrat. That’s especially true if you have other things going on and mixed feelings about a congressional seat to begin with.
No real interest in D.C., but Pierre still beckons
“I’m really not interested in going to D.C.,” Sutton said. “At least not at this point. I guess you never say never, but I’m sure not interested now.”
He’s still interested in that governor’s job, however, even though he’s at least a year away from making a decision, or at least announcing it, on whether to run again in 2022.
“I’m getting a lot of encouragement on that, of course. And if you remember last time it was May of 2017 when I announced, a year and a half ahead of the general,” Sutton said. “I’ve got a structure, an organization in place, so I wouldn’t have to get out as early next time, if I ran. “
He would, however, want to make it official before the end of 2021, which now seems far enough away, especially if you have plenty of other things going on.
“I’m not thinking about it right now,” Sutton said. “We’ve got a baby due in July, and we’re busy with our little boy and with our jobs, and of course with the Burke organization. And also, my leadership institute.”
Sutton is a banker-investment-specialist at First Fidelity Bank in Burke, where his wife, Kelsea, works as an attorney. She also serves on the Gregory County Commission. They have a 4-year-old son, Liam, and are expecting their second child this summer.
They decided not to find out the gender of the baby, just as they didn’t know their first was a boy until he was born.
“We kind of like it that way,” Sutton said.
Sutton also works on his Billie Sutton Leadership Institute. The development program puts experienced leaders in government and the private sector in mentorship roles with young professionals, politicians or community leaders. It bills itself as nonpartisan.
The institute’s board of director includes Billie Sutton, Kelsea Kenzy Sutton, former state legislator Kevin Killer, former state Supreme Court Justice Judith Meierhenry and former Augustana University President Robert Oliver.
Add in the family ranching operation northeast of Burke, and Billie Sutton has plenty to keep him busy and take his mind off politics.
Still, I’ll keep reaching out from time to time. And when he calls back, I’ll always pick up — even when it means putting down the fishing rod.
