Cohen: Thank your mentors
On honoring those who help us, and are always happy to hear from us
** Programming notes. Make sure to stop by the 24sight News livestream on the Substack app at 4p ET for our de facto Friday Happy Hour.
Launching Monday, something invigorating, a proprietary concoction of holistic ingredients culled from the wild by a man of medicine, a man of letters. His time in the jungle changed him, imparting ancient wisdom and revealing new paths, and now he will distill it all for you, dear reader, in 24sight’s newest column. Look for this effervescent find in your inbox bright and early Monday. **
It was not until Thanksgiving that I learned my mentor and friend, M. Robert Carr, had died in August. Reading through the “In Memoriam” piece in POLITICO Playbook, I felt terrible; I missed the opportunity to thank him for his mentorship one last time.
Like so many close to him over the years, Bob took an interest in my career, and changed me for the better.
He guided me in my rise from startup app creator and pollster to professor and published author, all with a selfless interest and deep interest in his fellow man.
Close to 10 years ago, Bob reached out to me after buying Congress in Your Pocket, my ultimate passion project. It was the first public affairs app on the App Store – Apple had featured it a dozen times – and fast became the de facto address book for members and staff on Capitol Hill.
A nascent tech entrepreneur, lifelong pollster and consummate politics and government nerd, I was admittedly intimidated. Bob was a “Cardinal” of the powerful budget-writing House Appropriations Committee. After losing re-election, the Michigan native stayed in D.C. to teach a course on Ethics at George Washington University’s Graduate School of Political Management.
I was in awe, a well-regarded member of Congress and professor not only used my app, but wanted to learn more about it, and me. (This was years before apps became as commonplace as hot takes in Washington.)
.jpg){kind=link}
We grabbed lunch at a low-key place on the Hill, likely Hawk and Dove, but it’s hard to remember exactly where because it was just a couple of dudes eating burgers and bullshitting about how much we loved politics for two hours.
I was intimidated until we sat down. Bob was tall, a solid half foot taller than me, at least, with a deep voice. But he matched it with a disarming smile, making it easy to see how he’d become a successful politician.
He had talked up the app to several of his former colleagues who were still in town and had some solid suggestions for who to chat with now serving in Congress. He sent emails, made calls, and advocated for me well before we met.
This was all shocking to me. This was D.C., after all, one of the most competitive cities on the planet and, at its worst, one of the most self-centered. I was the kind of person who does whatever they can for people I knew, sharing my network, working through professional challenges, and listening. But in that moment, Bob taught me that the very best of us do it for people they don’t know.
I wanted to be like Bob.
Not long after our first meeting, Bob helped get me a teaching position at GWU, starting a long career teaching others.
(It’s ironic, because I had applied to the political management master’s program at GW years before but couldn’t afford it. And a good thing, as staying at the University of Florida to complete my Ph.D is how I met my wife of 25 years, Lisa.)
We’d see each other often on campus and chat. Every conversation was a second doctorate. And at the core a discussion of ethics.
He was the first person I met in my 20 years in Washington whose singular focus was doing the right thing and teaching others how they could walk that same path.
Bob had battled cancer before and won. My wife, too, battled cancer and defeated it — we learned that often warm socks and a blanket are the best gifts for those in the fight.
But this second time, cancer and Father Time won and we lost Bob, a beacon and a mentor who guided many.
After I learned of Bob’s passing, I reached out to another mentor who I hadn’t spoken with in years, Tony Fabrizio. Tony has been the lead pollster now three campaigns in a row for a candidate I could not support, and is a big reason former president Donald Trump is now President-elect Donald Trump, again.
Tony supported me and my family many times over the years and it had been too long since we talked. After the election I reconnected with him, offering my thanks and gratitude. He gave me the trademark thumbs up.
Whomever your mentors are, and however long it has been, trust me, they want to hear from you. You are not interrupting them.
I learned this from Bob.
Michael Cohen, is the author of the book Modern Political Campaigns, president of Cohen Research Group and a 30-year veteran of the polling industry. He writes The Level regularly for 24sight News, analyzing polling and campaign trends with a keen eye and level-headed approach.
Thanks for sharing that. The kick in the ass I need to check in with a few people.