Just 21, call him Rep. Doherty
By John Collins,
jcollins@lowellsun.com
CONCORD, N.H. - Look there, at what state
Rep. Shaun Doherty is dangling from his driver's window ...
It's a license plate.
A metallic, not-so-EZ-to-get-Pass.
It is also, very possibly, an uncanny
sign of the future.
Upon seeing the raised plate No. "4-48,"
above the words "N.H. State Legislator," the
Merrimack toll booth attendant waves
Doherty through.
No charge.
"That's power right there," says Doherty
with a smile. "That was a whole dollar!"
The free tolls between his Pelham home
and the State House in Concord are among precious few perks given to New
Hampshire lawmakers. Compared to the average $65,000 annual salary paid
to Massachusetts legislators, the $184 check that the New Hampshire
treasurer mailed to Doherty's house last week is a literal joke, shared
by all the state's lawmakers.
"The check was actually for $184 and
change, an upfront payment for two years of legislative service,"
Doherty explains. "That's $100 a year for my two-year term, minus FICA
and Medicare. So they took out about $16 in taxes."
At least New Hampshire reimburses their
near-volunteer Legislature at 55 cents per mile.
They get a price break, too, on those
exclusive, low-numbered plates. In a conference room of the Legislative
Office Building in Concord on Thursday morning, Doherty wrote a check
for $18 to "the state of NH" before being handed two shiny plates, white
with red lettering. Three minutes later in the next room,
Doherty poses for his photo ID,
laminated.
It's 10:53 a.m. Pocketing and holding his
new plates, ID, wallet, Blackberry and keys, Doherty hustles down the
polished, white-tiled tunnel toward the State House under busy State
Street. At 10:57 Doherty's almost the first legislator to take his
assigned seat -- like his plates, No. 48. Gov. John Lynch's Inauguration
ceremony is scheduled for 11.
"I like to be on time," he says.
To most, Doherty is way ahead of his
time.
As a teenager he earned his Eagle Scout
rank, and was president of his class at Pelham High School. He became
involved in party politics, drawing on skills learned while playing a
key role in two of New Hampshire's most exciting Republican victories of
late -- Manchester Mayor Frank Guinta's "shocking" upset of
then-incumbent Bob Baines; and John McCain's triumph in the New
Hampshire primary. (Exactly a year earlier, on Jan. 8, 2008, Doherty
proudly recalls on Thursday.)
Doherty said he believes he won by
"game-planning" his campaign a year ahead. He filled spring and summer
days with appearances and fundraisers, wrote an effective Web site, and
built a Facebook page up to "800 friends."
He raised $5,000 "and spent nearly all of
it," he says.
In the field of 27 candidates for 13
seats, Doherty finished second; only he and Hudson's Lynne Ober
surpassed 10,000 votes.
A few weeks shy of his 21st birthday
(Dec. 19), Doherty celebrated by ... shoveling his driveway.
"We got about 10 inches of snow that day,
so I did some shoveling, cleaned the cars off," he said. "No, I haven't
had my first 'legal' drink yet, and don't plan to. That's just not
something I do."
Not a smoker either. At this clean-cut
rate, an acquaintance tells him, you could be a state legislator until
you're 121.
Unless he's aiming for a higher office.
"Yes, some day," he admits, "I hope maybe
Congress, governor, U.S. Senate."
Doherty, a friend of Curt Schilling's via
John McCain, wears a small-sized Red Sox cap. He's not growing a big
head overnight. He won one election. He's one of 400 people who make a
hundred bucks a year. He's still a junior at Rivier College in Nashua,
and drives a car with 150,000 miles on it.
But he is mature beyond his years. Knows
to seek the advice of elders, when to shut his mouth, and how to be
polite. He's energetic, organized and punctual. And yet somehow Doherty
still manages to be appealing rather than annoying to his much more
playful, politically oblivious peers.
"I've reached out to everyone I went to
high school with, and my peers through Facebook, talking about the
election, what's going on," Doherty says.
"Hopefully, they're paying attention,
because in a couple of years they're going to be buying houses, raising
families here, and it's too important for them not to have somewhat of
an idea about what's going on in the state and where their tax dollars
are going to go."
The license plate number in Doherty's
hands, when the numerical "prediction" suddenly emerges: 4-48... Four
(presidents before) 48.
Looks like a license plate. Sounds like a
plan.
It's in the kid's hands.