Dark And Bloody Grounds

I have been following with interest the recent charges leveled against former Kentucky Republican state legislator and failed candidate for Governor of Kentucky Steve Nunn, the son of Louie B. Nunn, the former Kentucky GOP Governor from 1968 to 1972.

It is perhaps the most unlikely political story of the century, a story in which politics is of almost a peripheral interest. For it is a story of violence and murder, with a real possibility of the apparent perpetrator, Nunn himself, receiving the death penalty due to the special circumstances involved in the case, in the increasingly probable event that he is ultimately convicted of the crime of the murder of Amanda Ross, his former fiancee.

Nunn was not some ill-fated, lackluster son whose accident of birth placed him in a family that held a social prominence for which he was ill-suited to inherit. He was a successful politician in his own right, occupying a seat in the Kentucky General Assembly for fifteen years.

Nor was he some mere backbencher holding down a seat by virtue of family position that should have gone to a more meritorious office-holder. No, Steve Nunn was, like his father before him, a uniquely qualified and seemingly dedicated public servant who earned the respect of both parties, a man able to work with both sides in order to achieve policy goals and enact legislation, a man to whom compromise and "reaching across the aisle" was indeed a kind of second nature.

This reality was aptly demonstrated when, after losing his bid for re-election to his seat in the General Assembly closely after losing a primary bid to run as the GOP candidate for Governor in 2007, he was appointed Deputy Secretary of the Cabinet For Health and Human Services by the ultimately victorious Democratic candidate, Steve Beshear.

Ironically, one of the things the Cabinet is responsible for is oversight of the investigations and prosecutions of domestic violence cases, a phenomenon for which Steve Nunn turned out to be uniquely qualified in an unfortunate way. His girlfriend, Amanda Ross, took out a restraining order on Nunn specifically on the grounds of domestic violence, claiming that Nunn struck her a number of times-four times, to be exact, a number which, as we shall see, will take on a somber significance. She also accused him of verbally abusing her, and physically assaulting even her property.

(Steve Nunn with Amanda Ross in a facade of seemingly happier times)

Following an investigation, Nunn was placed on administrative leave, later resigning his cabinet post. It was the beginning of the end of what might at one time have been a promising career. Some months later-specifically, of all days, on September 11th, 2009-Steve Nunn allegedly shot his former fiancee four times in a parking lot outside her home, and then fled the scene, leaving her to die of her wounds.

Several hours following the assault, Steve Nunn was apprehended at the Barron County grave site of his parents, the former Governor and his ex-wife Beulah, where, brandishing a gun, presumably the one used to kill Ross, he fired into the air at the approach of police, and then fell to the ground. Upon reaching him, the police discovered that Steve Nunn had slashed his wrists. He was taken into custody and, following a brief stay in the hospital where he recovered sufficiently from his self-inflicted wounds, he was charged with violating the terms of the protective order placed against him at the behest of Miss Ross. In due course, within a few short weeks, he was ultimately charged with her murder.

There are some who claim that it was not a one-sided story, and Nunn's attorney even floated the idea that the relationship of Nunn to Ross, a woman many claim used her relationship with Nunn to further her own career, was a relationship that involved abuse perpetrated by and against both parties towards each other. This charge raised the ire of many feminists, who object to these charges on the grounds that Miss Ross is no longer here to defend herself from any further abuse, even if she does speak from beyond the grave concerning the matter of Nunn's past abuse.

(Amanda Ross)

Nunn is still here, but his defense, such as it is, grows more shallow than the unmarked grave he might well in hindsight wish he had dug for Miss Ross out in the wilds of Barron County. In fact, this is not the first time he has been accused of abusive actions towards those with whom he has had relationships, such as his two previous wives and children. Although these charges are, for the most part, anecdotal thus far, there is one bit of compelling evidence that might form yet another notch in the rope that hangs the hapless former politician, from the words of none other than Nunn's own father, the former Governor. For Louie B Nunn himself accused Steve Nunn, his son from whom he was at the time estranged, of abusive behavior towards him and his family.

“I am too old and disabled to fight with you physically, even if I desired to do so,” Louie Nunn wrote in his letter. “The mental anguish with you physically attacking me is more than I need. I do not want it on my conscience or my record of having to hurt my own son — physically or mentality (sic).

“Therefore, I respectfully request you never attack me physically again. Neither do I intend to take anymore verbal abuse from you.”

He threatened his son with criminal charges if he assaulted him again and added that “this will necessitate my bringing into court your sister, your children and your former wife, all of whom you have abused.”

The charge stems from an affidavit filed by Nunn during the course of his contentious divorce from his wife Beulah, Steve's mother.

Later on, Louie Nunn and son Steve were reconciled, and the former Governor even ran his son's unsuccessful primary contest for Governor of Kentucky. But that will be little help to Steve once the case goes to trial. There is much reason to believe that Louie Nunn was himself abusive towards his children, and even his wife Beulah, which in fact is said to be part of the reason for the divorce of the two.

Like father, like son. Only Louie Nunn never murdered anyone, so far as we know.

The special circumstances of this particular murder, particularly those involving Steve Nunn's violation of the protective order against him, might well bring about an eventual death sentence.

It is remarkable to ponder how much different things might have been, but for one fateful decision made during the Presidential election campaign of 1968, when GOP candidate Richard Nixon, desirous of a running mate from among the border state governors, asked recently elected Kentucky Governor Louie B. Nunn to be his running mate. Nunn declined, on the grounds that, as the first Republican Governor of the state of Kentucky since 1943, his friends in the Kentucky Republican Party would never forgive him were he to so abandon them. Nixon reluctantly chose instead another border state governor, Spiro Agnew of Maryland.

Had the scrupulously ethical (at least politically, by known comparison to Agnew) accepted the offer, he would have almost undoubtedly become President in 1974, assuming everything else proceeded as recorded by history. Had he chosen to run for the nomination in his own right, he might well have split the party, not having the influence of Gerald Ford at the national level, and even if he won the nomination (he probably would not have) Carter would have almost certainly won, as he won against Ford, and as he almost certainly would have won, in that despairing year, even against Ronald Reagan.

Would it have changed his life? Would it have changed the life of Steve Nunn, to be a member, if only briefly, of the nation's first family?

(Governor Louie B. Nunn at far right, with Dave Thomas(?), Colonel Harlan Sanders, and Senator John Sherman Cooper.)

I seriously doubt it, and that's the scariest part of this.

The Nunn family, both Louie and his brother-both lifelong friends of Nixon-as well as Steve, are a family which is almost the closest thing Kentucky has to a political dynasty. They built their political capital on the necessity of compromise, of reaching across the aisle, of finding common cause, of uniting for the "greater good"-they reek of the magic of bi-partisanship.

They are not dyed-in-the-wool conservative Republicans, they are moderates. They are called by a number of names, most of them derisive. They are RINOs. They are Country Club Republicans.

If Blue Dog Democrats are little better than fellow travelers of the Stalinist left of the controlling, liberal wing of the national Democratic Party, moderate Democrats like Steve Nunn, and his father Louie, are something even worse, something even arguably more malignant. They are, in fact, the useful idiots who make it possible to enact the ever-growing cancer of big government, secure in the knowledge that it's growth and entitlement will secure them a place at the conference table.

These then are the people who want power over us all. These then are the people to whom many of us would entrust our futures, and our hopes. No, they are not all killers. No, they are not all violent abusers. They are not all even thieves, arguably. Some of them are, we would hope, men and women of apparent honesty and integrity. They are all people, just like us, and they run the gamut from good, to bad, to abominable.

Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it-and then some.

The inauguration of Kentucky Governor Louie B. Nunn, 1968