Tim Bridgewater's raspy voice is sounding more gravely these days.
"I used to sing a lot of country music. Or maybe it's that way because of bad genetics. At least it's distinctive," he growls over the telephone. "But I hope it will soon be the voice that represents Utahns" in the 2nd Congressional District.
Maybe.
But to get a shot at unseating Democratic Rep. Jim Matheson, Bridgewater must first beat fellow Republican John Swallow, something he couldn't do in the 2002 GOP primary.
In a week, the same two names will appear on the Republican ballot.
But Bridgewater believes there will be a different outcome in this vote count.
"Nobody knew me last time," he says in voice much like rocker Joe Cocker's. "I'm better organized — an organization in every county. I know the issues. I represent the values."
And Bridgewater is ready to put some of his own cash in the race, too.
Before the May 8 state GOP convention, where he finished with 54 percent of the vote, ahead of Swallow, he'd put $160,000 into his campaign. Latest filings show he's put a quarter of a million dollars in his race, and this for a man who says "on a good day in the stock market I could be considered a millionaire but just barely."
Since his ouster in June 2002, Bridgewater at first returned to his small-business consulting firm. One of his new clients was a seafood production association. And in that capacity he's testified before Congress on Utah's oft-times troubled brine shrimp industry on the Great Salt Lake.
But in September 2003, Bridgewater joined with several other Utahns to take over a Cedar Falls, Iowa, small capital firm and move it to Utah.
"It's small, just $50 million. Mainly we help Small Business Association-backed firms with early money."
This kid from the wrong side of the tracks — as he likes to define himself — has worked in the private sector for years, creating jobs and formulating a political philosophy.
Bridgewater, 43, was born and raised in Utah. But his father left his mother with two small boys — who to this day rarely see their biological father.
"For a while, my mother lived on welfare, in a trailer park in West Jordan," Bridgewater has said at a number of public appearances this year.
His mother remarried. His stepfather was a diesel mechanic and union man, while his mother worked for 50 cents an hour making candy for Sweet Candy Co. Being a star wide receiver on the Bingham High School football team led to a scholarship to Snow College. But he left school to serve a Spanish-speaking LDS mission in Venezuela.
Traveling back from his mission, Bridgewater went through Washington, D.C. The history, the grandeur, the politics hit him. "I knew some day I wanted to work there," he recalls.
After graduating from Brigham Young University (Swallow's alma mater, as well), Bridgewater got a job with the U.S. Export-Import Bank in D.C., trying to collect bad debts from South American countries.
He married along the way, and today he and his wife are the parents of four children, the youngest two twins.
The bank job put him in touch with the first George Bush administration and on the road to partisan politics. He's raised money for both the first President Bush and the second President Bush.
He got to know Neil Bush, son and brother of the presidents. Neil and Bridgewater went into business together, a consulting firm with some big-name clients, like Ford Motor Co.
Neil Bush got out of the business in 1999, and Bridgewater moved the operation to Utah from the Bush base of Houston.
Utah House Speaker Marty Stephens got to know Bridgewater when both men's business offices happened to be near one another. Stephens, who lost his bid for governor in the May 8 state GOP convention that advanced Bridgewater, said he was impressed with his energy and clear thinking.
"Tim is a bright guy," says Stephens, noting the two hit it off personally and politically, both coming from a natural conservative bent and modest backgrounds.
Both men changed careers as they tried things but had to move on.
"I've known him for 14 years," and what you see with Bridgewater is what you get, says Stephens.
 | Deseret Morning News graphic 2nd Congressional District mapRequires Adobe Acrobat. |
In 2001, Bridgewater was elected Utah County GOP chairman but resigned from that post in 2002 when he moved his family to Draper to live in the 2nd District.
There are a number of differences between 2002 and 2004, says Bridgewater.
"For one, Matheson is stronger. Two years ago, 45 percent of the 2nd District (after being redistricted by the Legislature) was new to him. Now he's had two years to be the incumbent of the whole district," which stretches from the eastern side of Salt Lake County to Iron and Washington counties in southwestern Utah.
"But even though I was outspent 3.5-to-1 (by Swallow), I still came out of the (2004) convention ahead. Winning the convention (in 2002) didn't mean that much, because no one else knew me besides the delegates. Now I'm known across the district. I've been around the entire district in just the last two weeks. They know my name, and we have a much better chance. I'm not brand new."
"We now know that what we did in the 2002 race did not work," said Bridgewater.
Despite the Utah Legislature's "considerable effort to restructure the district to overwhelmingly favor a Republican, and with so much of the district being an open seat, we still could not win."
"We cannot do the same thing again and expect a different result. Jim Matheson will not know how to deal with me. I am a small-business man that does not have a record he can use against me."
Whether the issue is public lands, economic development or the poor moral shape of America, "Many voters want some representation. Jim can't give it to them, because 68 percent of the 2nd District has, before 2002, voted Republican. In the House, you can't vote or speak on both sides of an issue."
This time around, Bridgewater hopes 2nd District voters will be hearing his raspy voice a lot this summer and fall.
E-mail: bbjr@desnews.com