Tuesdays at the Union Club are often low-key, but on election night they have the high-gear, bursting-at-the-seams feel of a weekend. The night of the recent mayoral election was as lively as it gets, with Mudslide Charley belting out “Liquid Velvet” and other blues and gospel tunes from the stage, the floor swirling with dancers, and the bartenders serving lines of four people deep under the glow of string lights.
“We’re getting crushed,” one of the bartenders said as he handed out a couple of whiskeys on the rocks.
The watch party for Andrea Davis was already more “party” than “watch” a half hour before Missoula County would publish early returns around 8. The televisions were set to the football game, mostly ignored. There was a reunion type atmosphere, which made sense: This was a bar brimming with the longtime nonprofit executive directors, old-guard artists and activists, iconic small business owners, even people you might call Missoula characters. And there were also college students and young city government activists.
“I just got a whiff of pot,” someone next to me said. “Classic Missoula event.”
A couple of Davis’ longtime acquaintances discussed what made her their candidate of choice: How she is compassionate and kind, but also a critical thinker. That she is a person with “nothing but good intentions” and the right amount of curiosity to push through the challenges she would absolutely face if she becomes mayor.
The “if” part of “if she becomes mayor” was my emphasis, not theirs. Most everyone I talked to in the room had no doubt Davis would get the votes.
“And when she’s mayor, she’s going to make mistakes,” one of the acquaintances said. “And that’s OK.”
To them, the fact that she was not yet a political insider made her appealing. Maybe it’d be a steep learning curve, but that didn’t have to be a bad thing. “We’re pretty passionate supporters,” one of the Davis acquaintances told me, laughing to emphasize the understatement, and watching Davis from afar as she chatted with a group seated near the back grill.
The vibe was celebratory, if even somewhat manic. There was almost no one on edge, with the exception of pool league players who were elbowing for pool stick space as they tried to play a decent game. The Union’s team, called Breaking Bad, (printed on the back of their league shirts) were playing the team from the Eagles Lodge, which happens to be one of Missoula’s best teams. This was not the Tuesday night they had hoped for. “It’s definitely affecting our game,” one of the Breaking Bad members said.
The first results came in a little after 8, with Davis at about 60 percent and her opponent, Mike Nugent, at 40 percent. The news whipped up the crowd some more. Mudslide Charley sang a gospel song and Davis and her dad, looking dapper in a paddy cap, stepped out onto the dance floor to bust a move. A few people stood on the edges taking videos and photos to record the moment. Missoula’s first woman mayor, Juliet Gregory, served from 1947 to 1948, but there hasn’t been a woman in that position since. One woman leaned toward me as I tried to capture Davis on the dance floor with my camera phone and said, “Twenty years from now, when she’s president, you’re going to be glad you got that video.”
Meanwhile, across town at Nugent’s watch party, at Paradise Falls, a restaurant and bar co-owned by Nugent and his wife Staci, the kids running around were getting more rambunctious and the adults more nervous.
Supporters brought posters of Nugent’s face on a stick with “I Like Mike!” on the back. At a long rectangular table with incoming plates of food, kids pumped the signs into the air chanting, “I like Mike!” Later on, they’d use them for sword fights.
It was a family affair. Nugent’s twin brother, three older siblings, parents, wife and two kids were all there. Janice Nugent, Mike’s mom, sat at a table across the room, trying not to look as nervous as she felt. She said all of Nugent’s older siblings kept asking her if he was doing OK, and how she thought he’d take it if he lost. “I think he’s going to win,” she insisted.
A little after 9, with Davis maintaining her 60-40 lead, Nugent addressed the room.
“The reality is it may not end up being our night,” he said. The city councilman and real estate agent thanked everyone for being there. His individual thank yous began with his wife, choking him up. And then he addressed his kids.
“Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose,” he said. “But it’s important to be involved in your community and try to make a difference.”
That sentiment is exactly what Staci thinks her kids will take away from their dad’s months of campaigning.
“I think they will take from this that life is not always about them,” she said. “There is something greater, there is so much good that comes from collaboration with the community that you’re in.”
Izzy Milch, senior organizing manager of Forward Montana, a nonpartisan organization that promotes youth civic engagement, said Davis’ decisive victory shows Missoulians—or at least the 45 percent of registered voters who cast ballots—are ready for new leadership, even as incumbents on Missoula City Council won four of five races. The race between Ward 6 Councilwoman Sandra Vasecka, a libertarian, and challenger Sean McCoy is headed to a recount, with McCoy currently holding a five-vote lead.
Should Vasecka be ousted, and with far-left candidate Gwen Nicholson losing to the more moderate Eric Melson in Ward 1, Davis may be working with a city council that, compared to recent makeups, is more centrist and solution-oriented as the city continues to grapple with growth, housing affordability and houselessness.
She will succeed Jordan Hess, who was appointed as mayor last year after longtime Mayor John Engen succumbed to pancreatic cancer, and finish the last two years of Engen’s term. This was the first election without Engen on the ballot since 2005.
Back at the Union Club, Davis took the mic. The crowd had thinned a little, but not by much. The clack of pool balls could be heard in the background as everyone moved onto the dance floor, to hear what she had to say, throwing occasional whoops.
“Well, I can’t sing the blues—cause I ain’t singing the blues tonight!” she said.
She thanked Mudslide Charley, the crowd and volunteers, and Mike Nugent, noting that, together, they had run respectful campaigns.
“We have some incredible things we have been wrestling with,” she said, naming affordable housing, climate change, property tax increases, among others.
“But we also have amazing opportunities,” she added. “And we’re only going to do this because we’re going to do this together. Thank you for showing up. Thank you for lifting me up. Thank you for holding me accountable—and I know that you will.”
