Editor’s note: The following is an excerpt from My Life in Nevada Politics: The Memoirs of Sen. Richard H. Bryan, a book written with Nevada Independent columnist John L. Smith. It is reprinted with permission from the University of Nevada Press. Bryan, a Democrat, served as Nevada governor from 1983 to 1989 and as U.S. senator from Nevada from 1989 to 2001.

The Governor’s Mansion is a few blocks from the Capitol at 606 Mountain Street in a west Carson City neighborhood surrounded by other residents. Designed by Reno architect George Ferris in a classical revival, Georgian, and Jeffersonian motif, it was completed in 1909. 

I knew from my own legislative experience how valuable the mansion could be in advancing a governor’s legislative agenda. I decided the first week of the session to invite individual legislators to dinner, and if available to have their spouses join them. Bonnie was my biggest asset. 

When receiving the invitation, the initial reaction from many was, “What was the agenda?” They anticipated that dinner might be an arm-twisting session used by me to pressure them to support my legislative program. They were surprised to learn I really just wanted an opportunity to get to know them better. There would be ample time later for arm-twisting.

Lawrence Jacobsen, the Douglas County Republican who would serve in the Assembly and Senate for more than three decades, was already a longtime senior legislative leader in 1983. Jacobsen, accompanied by his wife, Betty, was the first legislator Bonnie and I invited to join us for dinner at the mansion. 

“Jake,” as he was known, confided in me that he had never been invited to the mansion for a private dinner with the governor even though he had been a Republican leader in the Legislature for two decades.

Legislators claim to be blasé about getting a personal invitation to the mansion. I also knew the next day they would be quick to tell their colleagues they’d dined with the governor the night before. 

Bonnie and I enjoyed the dinner meetings, and there were always some pleasant surprises. One of them was Bob Fay, a newly elected assemblyman from Clark County. He sounded like a character from a Damon Runyon short story and looked the part with a lightweight’s frame and boxer’s pug nose. He hailed from the Lower East Side of Manhattan and had the thick Bowery accent to prove it.

During our dinner conversation, he began to complain about the weather and how it was as cold as the Yukon in Carson City. Mention of the Yukon sparked a conversation. Fay offered that he was fond of the poet of the Yukon, Robert W. Service. 

I could not have been more surprised. What’s more, he knew about Service’s work, including my all-time favorite, “The Cremation of Sam McGee,” which I had memorized as a high school freshman. 

Later, during the session, he presented me with a special gift, an early edition of Service’s poems. It may be trite, it may be hackneyed, but it did make the point, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” 

I continued the legislative dinners throughout the session.

Those dinners became a tradition during each legislative session throughout my time as governor. I invited the legislative leadership, Democrat and Republican, to the mansion on Monday mornings each week for breakfast to discuss the week’s agenda.

One of the unique aspects of life in the Governor’s Mansion, which always struck my gubernatorial colleagues around the nation as a bit surreal: mansion help, except for the cook and the mansion coordinator, were all inmates in the state penitentiary. 

Some who were assigned to the mansion had been convicted of serious felony offenses ranging from murder to grand larceny. From time to time, Bonnie met with the warden and reviewed the prison files of any new inmates scheduled to be assigned to the mansion. She had one rule, hard and fast, she did not want any inmate with a record of sexual offenses to be sent to the mansion. She was always concerned about our daughters, Leslie and Blair.

She cherished her life as Nevada’s First Lady. We both agreed the mansion belonged to the people of Nevada, and we made the mansion available on many nights to community organizations to hold meetings. 

It was a politically ecumenical invitation. On some Saturdays, the Republican Women’s Club of Carson City met at the mansion. Today the mansion features a separate annex to host events, but during my years there the only place available was in the living room.

This did have some impact on our privacy, particularly for our children, who were in high school. On any given evening, I couldn’t be sure who might be in the living room having a meeting when I came home. In the back of the mansion was a small family room where we would gather on those evenings when the living room was being used as a meeting venue.

One of the other features that my fellow governors found hard to believe is that we had no security at the mansion. There was no gate to secure access to the property. It was not uncommon for the local paperboy to ring the doorbell and collect from Bonnie or me. 

One of my favorite stories occurred early one spring evening when Bonnie and I were dining alone. The doorbell rang. At the door was an old friend of mine from my John S. Park and Las Vegas High School days, Howard Leavitt. I hadn’t seen him in years.

“Howard,” I said, “what are you doing here in Carson City?”

Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bus in the circular driveway in front of the mansion. Howard explained that he was the coach of the Cheyenne High School baseball team, which was in Carson City participating in a tournament. He told his players that he knew the governor of Nevada.

Howard said to me, “They didn’t believe me. So, I came over to prove it to them.”

I replied, “Great! Have them come on in!”

The team entered, and I had a nice conversation with each of the players. Howard was beaming, and we all had a good laugh. One of the delights of a Nevada governor in those days, at least for me, was the lack of separation between the person in the mansion and his constituents.

In summertime, many events were held in the backyard of the mansion. It was a place shared by all, and Bonnie and I enjoyed that part of our years in Carson City.

The drop-in visit from a high school baseball team wasn’t the only knock at the door that brought a smile. During my campaign, as a Shriner, I promised if elected to invite the entire Reno Shrine Temple to join me at the mansion for breakfast on Nevada Day. 

I honored my commitment, and each Nevada Day while I served as governor more than 100 Shriners would arrive for breakfast at the mansion. They started arriving at 6 a.m., honking their horns and knocking at the front door, ready for breakfast and raring to go.