Don Bonker represented democracy at its best
Former Southwest Washington Congressman leaves massive legacy of environmental protection
I first met Congressman Don Bonker at the Longview Country Club in the early 1980s. He joined me — then a cub reporter — and two Daily News senior editors for dinner to discuss the federal response to the Mount St. Helens eruption.
Bonker appeared a bit raddled. I was not immediately impressed with him — until I realized that he was jet-lagged and exhausted after a busy day meeting constituents in Southwest Washington’s 3rd District. He had worked his tail off.
No congressman had ever had to deal with such a disaster in his district before. The scale of the damage, the immediate inability of the federal bureaucracy to respond, and the complexity of the remaining troubles were unprecedented or immense.
Over the years I came to be grateful that Don, as I was free to call him later, was in office when the mountain blew. For me, he became a model of what a congressional representative should be.
Bonker died on May 30 in Silverdale, Wash., at age 86. He’d been in decline several years and had recently been diagnosed with gall bladder cancer.
During his 14-year tenure in Congress, Bonker was key to establishing the 110,000-acre Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument, created in 1982.
He contributed notably to other environmental causes, including creating the Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area, the Grays Harbor National Wildlife Refuge and the Olympic Coast National Marine Sanctuary. He sponsored efforts to protect one of the oldest forests in the nation — the Long Island Cedar Grove in Pacific County.
It would be hard to name any modern politician who contributed more to protecting Washington’s natural beauty and diversity.
Bonker was a devout father, husband, Christian and liberal Democrat. Yet he never let partisanship interfere with getting things done. He worked closely with Republican members of the Northwest congressional delegation — including U.S. Sens. Mark Hatfield of Oregon and Slade Gorton of Washington — to overcome Reagan administration opposition to funding for Mount St. Helens-related flood control work.
He had charm, intelligence, and honesty. He was a natural politician. I mean that in a good way, as Thomas Jefferson meant it: The art of governing, the author of the Declaration of Independence wrote, consists simply of being honest, exercising common sense, following principle, and doing what is right and just.
Bonker never showed anger. He was frank without insulting his opponents. He had a dry sense of humor. I remember that the Seattle Times once called him “enigmatic” — a description I thought was off base. When one of his staff members raised a fuss about the description, Don defused it in five words. “But they called me ‘handsome.’ ”
When the volcano continually perked up with non-explosive “dome building” eruptions in the early 1980s, congressional colleagues would ask him how much danger each new episode posed. Bonker, knowing no major explosive activity was forecast, would nevertheless play up the hazards to win support for further federal outlays: “I don’t think there’s much trouble for now, but you never know …”
His presence, though not dominating in any way, commanded attention when he entered a room. For a politician, he had little ego. His staff was free to be quoted by name, contrary to the common congressional practice that staffers be referred to anonymously.
He appreciated the value of the press. I, in turn, appreciated his accessibility. Admittedly, TDN staffers were covering one of the stories of the century in Cowlitz County. Still, Bonker understood how important it was for readers to hear from him. One fond memory is having breakfast with him in the Congressional Dining Room in the summer of 1982, as the vote on the volcanic monument approached.
Bonker was probably more liberal than his district, even when it leaned Democrat during his tenure in Congress from 1975 to 1989. He won all his congressional elections by solid majorities. And I’d bet he’d win today, too, even though the 3rd District has become geographically smaller and politically red.
He was born in Colorado, raised by a single mother, and later served in the Coast Guard. He served as Clark County Auditor before his election to Congress.
In addition to Mount St. Helens and environmental causes, his other congressional preoccupations were foreign affairs and foreign trade. He turned his trade expertise into a new career after losing a bid for the U.S. Senate in 1988. “I’m enjoying the (financial) benefits of the private sector,” he often told me enthusiastically.
What made him so successful in Congress was his willingness to work together on practical problems. He didn’t tilt at windmills or grandstand. He just rolled up his sleeves and went to work in a collegial way.
“My own achievements on international trade, human rights, preserving our natural resources happened only because of bipartisan support,” Bonker wrote in his 2020 autobiography, A higher Calling: Faith and Politics in the Public Square.
Today, he wrote, rank partisanship and special interests run amok and have “traumatized Congress,” he wrote. “This is democracy at its worst.”
Don Bonker represented democracy at its best.
Editor’s note. A previous version of this story misstated the year U.S. Sen. Patty Murray was elected to represent Washington in Congress. She was elected in 1992.
It was so good to read about Don Bonker again. In 1978, my husband and I adopted a Korean baby. We had expected her to be delivered to us, but, at the last minute, the agency changed its mind and said that we would have to go to Korea to pick her up. Trying to get my passport prepared was frustrating and time-consuming. Feeling frantic, I contacted my Congressman, Don Bonker, and he intervened immediately. In record time, I had the passport and was able to go. He could not have been more gracious and accommodating. I will always be grateful for his kindness and efficiency and ability to make things happen for his constituents.
A most beautiful and thoughtful obituary of an excellent public servant. Thank you, Andre.