Photo By Robert Webber

Lobbying isn't just about who you know, according to Dick Weiland. But it helps that he knows most of the state's legislators.

While longtime Statehouse figures regale newly elected members of the Ohio General Assembly with flat jokes and inspirational clichés -- "Ohio needs to look at the great state it is," according to Attorney General Jim Petro -- Dick Weiland lingers by the conference hall doors.

He seems to know nearly everyone, if not entirely everyone, who comes in and out. When he's not pulling a fellow lobbyist aside to say, "Call me, I want to know more about what you're doing," he's waylaying another politician to tell him how to save millions of dollars on prison beds. Then his cell phone rings. Then his other cell phone.

Weiland answers every call and frequently presses a phone to each ear. He doesn't understand three-way calling, he explains.

Funny, because there doesn't seem to be much that Weiland doesn't understand. At 75 he's incredibly sharp, if not exactly sharply dressed. He's famous for his always slightly mussed clothes and his low-talking, mumbling speech.

His gaze, though, might explain why he's one of Cincinnati's, if not the state's, most powerful lobbyists. It's piercing, direct and somewhat unnerving, so he uses it sparingly, most of the time adopting a shrug-shouldered, almost Columbo-like demeanor.

But when he turns his eyes full on someone, his favorite part of lobbying makes perfect sense: figuring out what the other side is thinking.

"You're fighting for people's minds," he says.

He says he does that for more than 400 organizations, many of them nonprofit arts or human service organizations, and often without compensation.

Keeping Smith from Jones
Weiland's been on the Talbert House board for going on 27 years. He started a PASSPORT program in Ohio to help the elderly stay in their homes. He's one of the most powerful advocates for Jewish issues in the nation. He's president of government affairs for Ohio Jewish Communities and chairman/founder of the Center for Holocaust and Humanity Education at Hebrew Union College.

He's also active in criminal justice issues. That's partly because a quarter-century ago he served four months in a federal prison for keeping federal funds he'd claimed went elsewhere. Stripped of his law license, he turned to consulting and then to lobbying.

"Twenty-five years ago someone said, 'You'd be a good lobbyist, because you know how to deal with people, how to get things done,' " he says, so he gave it a try.

"I loved it. You're affecting issues that affect people's lives. It's interesting."

One of the for-profits Weiland represents is Farmers' Ethanol, LLC. Wendel Dreve, a managing member, explains his company wants to build an ethanol plant in rural Harrison County and retained Weiland at the insistence of their Cincinnati-based investment banker. As much as an advocate, Weiland's a tutor. He helps the new company navigate old -- but rarely forgotten -- government relationships.

"If I go to talk to Joe Smith and think Joe Smith is my best buddy and say, 'Well, how 'bout I go to Sam Jones?' Joe Smith and Sam Jones might hate each other," Dreve says. "That's what we're trying to use Dick Weiland to help teach us: the right relationships between the agencies and how to best get our project completed."

Like lawyers, lobbyists sometimes get a bad rap. But Weiland says most of his colleagues are incredibly bright and genuine people. They have to be, because they have to understand all sides of all the issues they represent -- and then present all sides, not just the one they're hawking.

State Sen. Mark Mallory (D-West End) says lobbyists are essential to the workings of government because they provide quick access to extensive information about nearly any issue or industry that legislation might affect. Lobbyists pretty much have to be straight up, he says.

"Lobbyists generally know they have got to present information in a truthful way," he says. "Otherwise they lose their credibility, and if they lose their credibility they lost their access, and the key to the success of a lobbyist is that access."

The extent of Weiland's reach, access and clout makes some people uncomfortable. He readily admits that he won't pull his punches when battling for something he believes in. A good lobbyist is, above all, tenacious; it's never over 'til it's over, and even then it's not, he's fond of saying.

There was initial concern that with all Weiland's clients and issues he might be spread a bit thin, says Gregory Smith, president of the Art Academy of Cincinnati.

"There has to be a balance -- balance all their clients and push all their clients to the same degree," Smith says.

But the Art Academy hired Weiland anyway and hopes to get some money in the state's next biennial capital improvements budget.

"My sense is that while there's some concerns that people might have with Dick in that regard, he keeps things pretty well balanced," Smith says.

Cranley's ear
There are always more worthwhile projects than there is funding.

"I don't have enough time to develop the kind of connections with the key players in the Statehouse that's really necessary in order to get onto the list," Smith says.

Nancy Minson praises Weiland for the help he's given to the Mental Health Association Cincinnati Area, of which she's executive director. He helped procure state money to train the Cincinnati Police Department's Mental Health Response Teams and for a suicide-prevention program in Clermont County.

On the other hand, Minson, who -- as chair of the Cincinnati Women's Political Caucus -- has a lot of political contacts and clout, finds herself frustrated by the need to hire a lobbyist.

"I'm grateful that we have Dick to help us but I'm sorry that we're not able to do it on our own," she says. "Do I wish the system were different? Absolutely."

But until campaign finance reform becomes a reality, Minson sees that legislators, try as they might to represent all constituents equally, must be especially responsive to those who can help them get re-elected.

For instance, Weiland met Nov. 12 with Cincinnati City Councilman John Cranley, who chairs the Finance Committee that will soon hash out Mayor Charlie Luken's proposal to cut all funding for human services. Weiland's fighting to retain at least some of that city funding.

"And Cranley's going to listen to him, more than he's going to listen to Joe Blow off the street," Minson says. "I mean, I've got influence with council members, but not like that. Dick will go in there and he'll get John Cranley's ear because John Cranley's going to go back to Dick some day and say, 'Dick, I'm running for council and I need to raise some money. Will you have a fund-raiser for me?' And Dick will do that and Dick will invite those people who he's helped from other areas to this fund-raiser. And because Dick's helped them in other areas, they'll go to that fund-raiser and help him in that."

If even Minson needs Weiland, does Joe Blow stand a chance of catching the ear of a government representative?

Absolutely, Mallory says. He's introduced legislation suggested by constituents. He says individual letters, rather than one form letter or one letter signed by 20 people, is more effective.

But Weiland disagrees.

"People are so naíve about what they're doing today with the pressure tactics and trying to go it alone too often when they could go with a group," he says.

But most important is the cardinal rule of lobbying: Know your stuff inside and out, and then make sure requests are specific and realistic.

"You have to make absolutely sure you have all your facts right before you go to these guys," he says. "You gotta know the possible." ©