How a Louisiana belle became the Bay Area’s political powerhouse
Submitted by Bay Area Hospital
Running Coos Bay’s downtown association in the 1980s, Joanne Verger went to a lot of city council meetings. Eventually, she came to a conclusion: “I could do that,” she thought. “In fact, I could do it better.” Turns out, she could – not only in City Hall, but in Salem as well. “She had all the pieces,” said state Rep. Caddy McKeown. “Grace and charm and intellect and spine. She had it all. “Half the people, they didn’t know what hit them.”Sen. Verger’s 22-year career in public service evokes the Louisiana Creole custom of lagniappe. Pronounced “lan-yap,” the term describes a merchant’s gift to a customer – something extra, like the 13th doughnut in a baker’s dozen. You could say politics has been Sen. Verger’s lagniappe to her South Coast neighbors. At age 60, with four children raised and the family auto business secure, she undertook something extra. Her lagniappe can be seen in the boardwalk built under her mayoral leadership. It’s in the water system she helped to create. It’s in the airport expansion she championed, the railroad she fought to reopen, and the many community leaders she recruited and coached along the way. “She’s done a lot for this community,” said Joe Benetti, who followed her as mayor. Elected in 1990, Councilor Verger became Coos Bay’s first female mayor two years later. She oversaw projects including the boardwalk and a politically sensitive transition of wastewater management to an outside contractor. Then came the New Carissa. The ocean freighter’s 1999 grounding was an impromptu education. Mayor Verger dealt with federal authorities, public relations people, and the ship’s insurer. “It taught me to be very careful about what I heard and what I said,” she said. The experience became her warm-up for the Oregon Legislature. Elected to the House at age 70, the new Rep. Verger became an advocate for rural Oregon. “I wanted to go as a fighter,” she said – determined to show Salem that “not all the brains are in the urban area.” During her four years in the House and eight in the Senate, she played a key role in building the Coastal Caucus, a bipartisan alliance that gives coastal communities a powerful voice. She takes pride in her steadfast support for the timber industry, as well as the state funding she secured for her district. “I was able to bring money and I was able to bring clout, because I brought people together on both sides of the aisle,” she said. She takes special satisfaction in being a “pacemaker and pathfinder” for women. Younger women who have looked to her for mentorship are a special legacy. Employing the Louisiana vernacular, she said, “That’s been lagniappe for me.” The child who would become this genteel powerhouse grew up in the Louisiana town of Amite (pronounced uh-MEET). She describes a childhood enriched by small-town values. Her father was the local school superintendent. At 16, Joanne was Strawberry Queen. She studied drama in college and dreamed of an acting career, but her older brother, de facto guardian after their father’s death, squelched the idea. She pursued a teaching certificate instead. Those plans changed as well. A college romance turned into a 55-year marriage to Lawton Verger. Their first child (Kathy Verger Muscus) was born while Lawton served in the Korean War. Peacetime brought Jim, John, and Anne. Lawton got into the car business in Louisiana, becoming a Chevrolet dealer in 1960. Joanna wrote and published plays and short stories, directed high school musicals, and performed monologues on a church benefit circuit. The Verger home was constantly open, Southern style, to friends and extended family. The Vergers became Oregonians in 1969, when they bought a Coos Bay dealership. Joanna was Lawton’s supportive partner and threw herself into her new hometown, most memorably as local co-host of the Easter Seals Telethon. Her entry into politics brought a new dimension to the marriage. The supportive spouse moved into the spotlight. Lawton, leaving their dealership in son Jim’s hands, was her chief of staff until his 2006 death. “They were both really comfortable in those roles,” Jim recalled. “That’s pretty unusual.” He said his parents shared “a common vision of how they wanted to move through life.” “She and Lawton were iconic in the Legislature,” said Sen. Arnie Roblan, who succeeded her in the Senate. Since leaving office, Sen. Verger has tackled multiple writing projects, including a memoir of her Louisiana upbringing. A political book is percolating. Meantime, she presides over a robust family circle in the Southern style, frequently gathering her children and grandchildren in the Coos Bay home she shared with Lawton.