Snow was a good-natured man, talented press secretary

I normally dedicate this column to the intersection of business issues and politics, but thought I’d devote this month’s installment to the memory of a truly great American, Tony Snow.

Tony passed away July 12 after a long bought with cancer. He was diagnosed with colon cancer in 2005 and received treatment before becoming White House press secretary in May 2006. The cancer returned in 2007, and he left the White House in September just a few weeks before I departed my post in October.

I recently became a member of the Board of Directors of Kentucky’s Colon Cancer Prevention Project, and I am sure Tony would want me to remind you that colon cancer has a 90 percent treatable rate when detected early before symptoms develop. Regular screening for colon cancer should begin at age 50 unless you are high risk, in which case screening should begin earlier.

I had the chance to travel with Tony on a couple of occasions. As a political operative for many years, I’ve staffed many elected officials and political leaders - none surpassed the humor, optimism and general love of people that Tony brought to his job.

He was by far the lowest maintenance guy you could ever meet. No elaborate briefing papers required. No preening. No rock star treatment. Tony was a regular guy, clearly grateful for the opportunities God granted him.

When Tony decided to appear at fundraisers for Republican candidates during the 2006 elections, he was criticized by some in the White House press and folks you would consider to be part of permanent Washington, D.C., for doing something no other White House press secretary had done.

Many in Washington - a town full of people concerned with what other people in town think of them - would have shriveled under the criticism, groveled for forgiveness and canceled their events. Tony Snow laughed it off and thrilled crowds across the country.

I made one trip with Tony that encapsulated the kind of guy he was. We started at Reagan National Airport in Washington, where he was mobbed by adoring fans in the security line. He graciously stepped out of line to sign autographs, making people feel like he was honored to be meeting them.

On the plane he read some information I had prepared about his day’s events and the political circumstances awaiting him. He asked insightful questions. He took the time to ask about my family, my background, my career. Tony had a knack for making people feel special, because he believed every person was special and deserved to be treated that way.

As we walked in the hotel for our first event of the day, a lone protester marched in front with an anti-President Bush sign. We went through the doors and Tony stopped, walked back outside, and talked to the guy for 10 minutes. He came back in and said: “I know that guy. It’s my cousin’s husband.”

He laughed about being protested by a family member as we made our way upstairs.

Before entering the ballroom, he told an eager staffer of the candidate for whom he was appearing that he needed a bathroom break. The staffer acknowledged the request and led us on long walk through several hallways before landing the three of us in an isolated, cinder-block hallway into the bowels of this hotel.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Tony asked.

“Oh, you really need to go to the bathroom? I thought you were talking in code and needed a private place to have a conversation,” the eager staffer responded, embarrassed.

A more pretentious guy would have gotten agitated and sounded off. I’ve seen lesser political figures blow up at lesser ignorance. Tony laughed it off, found the men’s room, gave a wonderful speech and shook every hand in a packed luncheon.

That night he appeared at a reception for another candidate, again before a packed house. He started behind a podium on a stage, but soon disengaged the microphone from its stand and waded into the crowd. Every person must have felt like they were co-starring with Tony on a cable news show. He answered questions and again shook every hand. I recall having to whisper in his ear eight or 10 times that if we didn’t leave he was going to miss his flight home. He didn’t care.

“These folks paid to see me, and I feel like I should shake every hand,” he said. And he did.

Tony was a pretty good press secretary, certainly a vast improvement over his hapless predecessor. He was a brilliant political commentator. And he was one of the best human beings you could ever meet. I never saw him get angry. He seemed to effortlessly laugh about most things while serving in one of the most pressure-packed jobs in politics.

I’m proud to have served alongside Tony Snow in the White House, and sad that America has lost a true gentleman, full of humor, insight and an optimism about our country that I wish more media personalities possessed. And, in case you didn’t know, Kentucky has lost a favorite son. Tony Snow was born in Berea on June 1, 1955.

Scott Jennings is a native of Dawson Springs and served as special assistant to President Bush and was deputy White House political director from 2005-2007. Jennings is now a public relations executive in Louisville and is currently serving as a political advisor to several Republican campaigns.