Huffington Magazine Issue 61 | Page 90

KENTUCKY’S KING staff. “He set a standard out there for all of us in the party,” Hornback says. “Our thoughts are pretty much in line.” McConnell is in line to awkwardly embrace them all, whether teaching state pols how to raise money or set up committees or simply create a lasting culture. If that means using his beloved University of Louisville football games as Republican unity sessions, so be it. Invites to his tailgate parties are coveted. “Before I was Senate president, he did it with the prior Senate president,” Stivers says of the tailgates. “He did it with me as a floor leader.” McConnell might, if the mood strikes during the game, offer a stiff high five. “You can see almost the emotion,” Stivers says. MONUMENTS In place of a discernible philosophy or lasting impact on the lives of ordinary citizens, there are other monuments. In Owensboro, there’s a Mitch McConnell Way and, on the city’s riverfront, a Mitch McConnell Plaza. Outside Louisville, there is a 5.4-mile trail in the Jefferson County National Forest called Mitch McConnell HUFFINGTON 08.11.13 Loop. In 2004, Bowling Green established the River Walk at Mitch McConnell Park. The Mitch McConnell Center for Political Leadership crowds half a floor of the University of Louisville’s library with a hodgepodge of mundane artifacts celebrating his Senate career. One placard notes that he has served longer than Wendell Ford, while another details his interest in Henry Clay’s desk. A portrait of a younger McConnell is inscribed: “In a representative democracy senators are elected to lead, not merely to reflect which way the political wind is blowing at any given time.” Though Paducah has yet to name a building or street after McConnell, the town is a testament to his complicated legacy. Millions in earmarks have promised new waterfront development, but that optimism recedes a block or two away from the Ohio River. The downtown business district is gaptoothed with darkened buildings and empty lots. Even the storefront biker church looks in need of salvation, inhabiting half of a big pink building still advertising discount clothes for a long-departed retailer. Remnants of the city’s Spielbergian rocket dreams endure in the murals along the imposing flood wall that still celebrate the Atomic City. Both the city and its senator