Faded by time, the brochure on the coffee table in Sue Wagner’s living room carries a message that transcends the passing political seasons. Along with a picture of an ebullient young Nevada Assembly candidate embarking on her first campaign, two words stand out: capable and honest.

Nearly half a century after her 1974 entry into the state’s rough-and-tumble public arena, it would be hard to find two words that better capture Wagner’s character. For the next three decades she would serve with distinction in both houses of the state Legislature, serve as Nevada’s first elected female lieutenant governor and spend a dozen years as a member of the state Gaming Commission.

With her cat Cinnamon lounging in the late afternoon light that filters through open blinds, Wagner relaxes as best she can and greets a visitor with an inquisitive twinkle in her eyes. As if living to 83 weren’t challenging enough, the toll of her injuries incurred in a 1990 plane crash make it harder to breathe and these days she gets an assist from an oxygen tank.

Battling for every step, Wagner manages to circle the block with the aid of a walker and takes three pilates classes a week. All the physical activity, she says, bolsters her spirits as well as her body.

Honored in August in Reno by Planned Parenthood for her long advocacy of reproductive freedom, for decades Wagner has been a steady voice for the Equal Rights Amendment, reproductive rights and myriad other issues dear to her heart.

It may surprise those unfamiliar with her story that she fought her good fight in politics as a proud moderate member of the Republican Party in Nevada at a time when elected officials with liberal views on social issues weren’t hounded as heretics and routed out as RINOs (Republicans in Name Only).

These days, she’d rather talk about her cat than the political party that left her years before she left it after retiring from public office in 2009. By the rise of the far-right Tea Party movement, she’d had enough and, in 2014, registered as a nonpartisan before becoming a Democrat in order to vote in the primary.

At the legislature, she recalls being the only Republican to stand for the ERA in a decade that saw Nevada lawmakers founder and fumble on the issue. The difference in those days was the comity of her colleagues.

“Some people probably did not like me, but I got along with everybody,” Wagner says. “I got along with even people that I violently disagreed with on issues. I figured, they were human, we’re doing the same thing, we’re enclosed in this small town of 20 Senators and 40 Assembly people, so we all have the same experiences. To me it was normal to like everybody.

“I remember one day after we had voted on ERA or the choice issue, and I walked from the Senate to the Assembly chambers with (conservative Republican) Carl Dodge, and he had his arm around me. And people were so mad, other women were so mad at me because I acted like that. I could actually hold hands with Carl Dodge after he killed the bill. They didn’t quite understand the political process. I always liked Carl Dodge. He happened to just be wrong on this issue, in my mind.”

Rising through the state Legislature, in the Assembly Wagner fought for social issues that often put her at odds with hardline Republican colleagues fired up by the politics of the Sagebrush Rebellion. In the Senate throughout most of the 1980s, she twice served as chair of the Judiciary Committee. All the while she remained true to her values as a proud moderate Republican, the kind that grew tall in her home state of Maine, where her father was a GOP stalwart.

Despite receiving life-threatening back and neck injuries in a Labor Day 1990 plane crash during her campaign for lieutenant governor, Wagner still managed to make Nevada history by becoming the first woman elected to that office. She suffered from paralysis at the time of her swearing in, but those who followed her time as lieutenant governor remember a woman struggling mightily with withering medical challenges and somehow finding a way to work through the pain and do the job.

She later served with distinction for a dozen years on the Nevada Gaming Commission, at times using a wheelchair to get around, and took a special interest in the issue of compulsive gambling. Although attempts were made to recruit her to run for governor and the U.S. Senate, her injuries took their toll on her health and stamina.

A westerner most of her life, the former Sue Ellen Pooler was born in Portland, Maine, a place with a tradition of electing Republican moderates to high office. That included U.S. Sen. Olympia J. Snowe, who retired in 2012 rather than knuckle under to a party veering further right from the mainstream.

Wagner could relate to the feeling: “I admired Olympia because she had certain principles, and they weren’t met, so she left.”

In Nevada, Wagner’s liberal stands on social issues made her stand out and she often found herself in eclectic crowds where few GOP elected officials dared to tread.

“I was invited to small gatherings as the anomaly, I guess,” she says, smiling at the memory. “But I managed to meet some very important people. Ann Richards, the governor of Texas, became a friend of mine.” As for the static she sometimes received, she replies, “I was just being true to myself.”

Wagner still follows politics closely and remains an avid supporter of causes that are dear to her. But when she thinks of the current state of the Republican Party, her soft voice sharpens. She knows moderates and conservatives alike who agree it’s gone off the rails and continues through political mechanics to position Donald Trump to prevail in a 2024 presidential caucus. 

“Thank God I’m not a Republican anymore,” she says. “The Republican Party now is disgusting. They’re a cult, not a party, and are beholden to — I have a hard time calling him a human being. I call him Agent Orange. He’s toxic.”

She still gets out when she can and continues to inspire a new generation of women. Her recent “Girls Night Out” gathering attracted more than 70 to her backyard. 

“Life has got me to a walker,” she says. “But I’m not embarrassed or humiliated by the fact that I have to do this. This is how I live. You might as well see it.”

To borrow a line from an old poet, Sue Wagner has been made weak by time and fate, but she remains strong in will. Although she stands with difficulty, we’ll always know where she stands.

John L. Smith is an author and longtime columnist. He was born in Henderson and his family’s Nevada roots go back to 1881. His stories have appeared in Time, Readers Digest, The Daily Beast, Reuters, Ruralite and Desert Companion, among others. He also offers weekly commentary on Nevada Public Radio station KNPR.