VESTAVIA HILLS, Ala. — Sen. Luther Strange, R-Ala., seems normal size. Standing in front of the enormous brick columns of a beautiful home in Vestavia Hills, Ala., one of the wealthiest suburbs outside Birmingham, the six-foot-nine senator nicknamed “Big Luther” doesn’t look so tall. Wearing a blue suit with an Eagle Scout pin on the lapel, Strange is chatty and cheerful. Less than 48 hours before the Republican run-off, he’s in his element.
Strange bristles a bit when asked about his allegiances, though. “I’m not beholden to the majority leader or the president,” the senator says of Mitch McConnell and Donald Trump, his two biggest backers. “I’m beholden to the voters of Alabama.”
And while it’s true the electorate must decide whether to let him or Judge Roy Moore fill Jeff Sessions’ old Senate seat, it’s obvious that Strange has campaigned on a promise to be Trump’s Senate Boy Scout.
Opponents accuse Strange of being an establishment foot soldier, of marching rank and file with McConnell. “The other side is trying to make this a referendum on the majority leader and the lack of progress in the Senate,” Strange says while walking to a SUV waiting in the driveway. “But I’m new and really I’m the most frustrated person in Washington!”
Those two camps will clash Monday. Vice President Mike Pence will rally for Strange at the Birmingham Airport, arguing that the senator is critical to Trump’s agenda. Across town, former White House strategist and current Breitbart CEO Steve Bannon will argue the opposite, slamming Strange as a pre-eminent swamp creature.
“I’m one of the most, if not the most, conservative senators in the U.S. Senate,” a perplexed Strange says. “So a lot of these people, they are cutting off their nose to spite their face.”
Regardless, it’s clear that “Big Luther” has become a chosen son of the Beltway. Trump has tweeted his praises and appeared in person at a Huntsville rally while McConnell has given his blessing and spent upwards of $9 million in super PAC dollars.
“I don’t control what McConnell does or the money he spends,” Strange insists, “just like I don’t control what Steve Bannon does on behalf of my opponent. That’s just outside noise.”
Kimberly Cook agrees. A Vestavia Hills City Council member, she trusts Strange because “he’s loyal and trustworthy — you know, the first two rules of the Scout Law.” An early supporter of Sen. Marco Rubio, Cook voted for Trump in the general election and believes that only Strange is prepared to deliver on the president’s agenda.
But what about Moore? “I don’t think he can work with other people,” Cook says of the judge who was kicked off the state Supreme Court. “He’s a very charismatic person. He’s very polarizing and somewhat irrational in his discussion of things. If he were elected he’d be a worthless vote.”
Renee Powers feels the same way. A retired kindergarten teacher who first supported Ben Carson for president, she wonders if the now secretary of Housing and Urban Development “has a true understanding” of the candidate. She’s puzzled by Carson’s last minute endorsement of Moore because “the judge never fulfilled his obligation to his constituents. He was dismissed for not following the law.”
Like Cook, Powers doubts that Moore would be loyal to Trump. And that’s good news for the Strange campaign. They’re hoping that presidential fidelity will guarantee political victory. “Having the president and the vice president come down to say that I’m their man and they want everyone out to vote for me is critical,” Strange explains as he gets into the car. “This election is all about turnout now.”
Behind by 9 percentage points on average, if Strange wins he will owe it to Trump’s electoral magic. Alabama’s secretary of state predicts that turnout will be exceptionally low, about 12 percent of the electorate. But a source tells me that internal polls peg turnout as high as 17 percent and place Strange within just 5 points of Moore.
As Strange speeds off, Leta Head isn’t thinking about polls or analytics. Instead, the certified public accountant sums up the sentiment of the private party they’ve so generously let me crash.
“I want to drain the swamp in Vestavia! I want to drain the swamp in Montgomery! I want to drain the swamp in Washington! I want to drain all the swamps,” she tells me. “I want a senator who will support my president. He’s loyal.”
Philip Wegmann is a commentary writer for the Washington Examiner.
