Leaving Washington: After 18 years in office, Bob Bennett looks to the future

WASHINGTON D.C. — Sen. Bob Bennett stands, one hand on a podium, one hand in his pocket, about to take a rite of passage that a little over seven months ago, he didn't see coming.

He clears his throat, and a gavel raps for attention.

"I think I will wait until there is a little more order," he says over the clamor as men and women in suits scatter across the plush blue carpet and through the U.S. Senate chamber doors.

It is a bittersweet moment. After 18 years of serving as a Republican senator for Utah, Bennett is saying goodbye.

"This is an extraordinary place with extraordinary people

who are dedicated to the country and dedicated to doing the right thing," he tells about 30 of his colleagues — Republicans and Democrats — listening to his address. "Yes, there is a difference between the two parties. Yes, we disagree. But if we can disagree in an effort to solve the problems of the country and be willing on occasion to say maybe the other side is right, we will move forward."

Over the course of his career, Bennett's even temper and willingness to work with "the other side" earned him senior-level positions on influential Senate committees and respect from the top leaders of the country — but it also cost him the re-election.

For years, Bennett brought billions of dollars to his home state through federal funds and developed a reputation for being a politician who reached across party lines, but in May, at a volatile state convention, those very actions caused his defeat. For some, his long career in D.C. meant he was out of touch with the needs of Utahns back home, and his bipartisan efforts meant he had compromised too much to still be considered a bona fide conservative. Now, as Bennett's time in office wanes and America's political climate embraces a greater extreme in dividing party lines, the senator's removal represents more than just the end of one man's political career — in his absence, the days of the moderate statesman might also be numbered.

Bennett's not willing to grieve his upcoming departure, though his speech is now over. There are still a few days before the session officially ends.

"I'm not dead yet," he says with a smile as his colleagues rise to give him a standing ovation.

Several months earlier, in May, Bennett stood on a different stage, at the Salt Palace in Salt Lake City. It was the state Republican convention, and delegates nominated in neighborhood caucuses were massed to narrow their senatorial choices to one.