The lifer

For as long as he can remember, Fred Risser has celebrated birthdays by riding his bicycle a mile for each year of his life. If all goes according to plan, the iconic Wisconsin senator will pedal 90 miles on May 5. He always does the birthday ride alone — although he carries a cell phone just in case.

“I may not go right on that day,” says the lifelong cyclist who now rides a Trek hybrid. “It will depend on the weather.”

Don’t bet against Risser completing his ride, which will include a roundtrip to Barneveld on the Military Ridge State Trail and a loop around Lake Monona to make sure he hits the mileage target. This is a guy who already holds claim to being the longest-serving legislator in U.S. history at 61 years and was elected last November to another four-year term.

Fit and trim as ever, the 6-foot-2, blue-eyed Risser maintains he never intended to break any kind of record for public service. He’s just managed to stay healthy and still enjoys working even as most of his political peers have long since moved on or died.

To this day, Risser claims he’s never used an elevator in the Capitol, always taking the stairs. He still likes to show off his hometown by sneaking visitors up the narrow, twisting 252 metal steps to the top of the granite dome.

“Retirement has never been a goal of mine,” says the Madison Democrat, whose run at the state Capitol began in 1956 when Dwight Eisenhower was in the White House and contraceptives were on the indecent articles list in Wisconsin.

And he continues to press on, even with his Democratic Party reeling.

“A lot of people come and go in the Legislature, but Fred Risser remains,” says Jeff Mayers of WisPolitics. “He is the institution inside the institution. While Risser isn’t in the majority anymore, making it hard to get initiatives passed, he can look back on a long list of legislative accomplishments.”

While some critics have grumbled that Risser should have long ago passed his seat along to a younger person with a more aggressive approach, it’s hard to point to any outward failings. He hasn’t missed a floor vote in 50 years, and his mind is sharp as ever despite some self-admitted “senior moments” — like calling on his staff for the name of someone he can’t immediately recall.

“Look, I get all that, but Fred’s passion is still burning strong,” says fellow Democrat Sen. Jon Erpenbach of Middleton. “With all that has gone on over the past eight years, it might have been easy to get disgruntled or cynical but he’s never let it get the best of him.”

Brian Rude of Coon Valley served for years alongside Risser, switching back and forth as Senate president when Democrats were in control of that body. He remembers Risser as a tenacious fighter who wouldn’t let go of an issue once he sank his teeth into it, whether a statewide smoking ban or pushing for more buildings on UW System campuses as chairman of the Building Commission.

“I’m a huge Fred fan,” says Rude, who now works as a lobbyist for Dairyland Power Cooperative. “You’ve had a whole bunch of prominent Democrats like Dave Clarenbach or Spencer Black waiting for him to retire, but he’s outlasted them all.”

Risser doesn’t back down from any discussion about his age or whether someone else might have done more to counter the Republican takeover. It’s a question no doubt on the minds of many politicians in Dane County drooling over the chance to take the seat.

Still, no one can accuse Risser of being complacent. He was one of 14 Wisconsin senators who left the state for three weeks in 2011 to prevent a vote on Act 10, the centerpiece of Gov. Scott Walker’s hardline reconfiguring of Wisconsin. It made him a hero in Madison’s 26th Senate District but did little stop the bill from becoming law.

But Risser is convinced control will swing back at some point even with the districts gerrymandered by GOP lawyers to favor incumbent candidates and with traditional Democratic supporters like public-sector labor unions financially hobbled by Act 10.

“I hear all the doubters, but I’ve always been an optimist,” says Risser. “When I was first elected, the Legislature was two-thirds Republican and we had two Republican U.S. senators including Joe McCarthy. Things will flip back. They always do. It just takes more people getting involved.”

Risser also notes he’s served under 12 different governors — six Democrats and six Republicans. And he only has harsh words for one.

“Our current governor has never cared about what is best for the state,” he says. “It’s always been about him.”

Risser’s roots in the Madison area run deep. The family dairy farm, which became the Indian Hills subdivision in the 1950s, once commanded some 200 acres of high ground between the railroad tracks and Lake Mendota abutting the village of Shorewood Hills.

At the top of the hill today you’ll find Risser Road along with the original farmhouse, which has gone through a number of additions and changes.

Risser attended Madison public schools, graduated from West High School and did a stint in the U.S. Navy during World War II in Panama before returning to Carleton College in Northfield, Minnesota, where he earned a letter on the cross country running team.

“I never finished first but I never finished last either,” he says.

After two years he headed west to the University of Oregon, getting away from his home turf and earning a law degree in 1952.

But all the while Wisconsin politics swirled.

On the wall of Risser’s office in the South Wing of the Capitol hangs a frame with photos of the four generations of relatives who served in Madison, all in different political parties.

His father, Fred E. Risser, was a Dane County district attorney and later a state senator, the last member of the Progressive Party elected to the Wisconsin statehouse in 1944, two years before the party disbanded.

Risser’s grandfather on his mother’s side was Ernest Warner, who served in the Wisconsin Assembly as a La Follette Republican. Warner Park on the north side of Lake Mendota is named for him.

And Risser’s great-grandfather, Colonel Clement Warner, was a state senator and assemblyman as a member of the Unionist Party and later as a Republican. Warner served under Gen. U.S. Grant in the Civil War and lost an arm during the Battle of Deep Bottom in 1864.

“You might say I grew up with a political spoon in my mouth,” says Risser, who bears a striking resemblance to his Civil War veteran relative as seen in an old photograph.

He has some company when it comes to political longevity, but not much. Rep. John Dingell of Michigan served 59 years in Congress before retiring in 2015, and the late U.S. Sen. Robert Byrd of West Virginia holds the record in that body with 51 years in office.

Two other state legislators, Michael Kinney of Missouri and Hugh Gillis of Georgia, each served 56 years. There’s also Hilmar Moore, who spent 63 years and 73 days as mayor of Richmond, Texas.

If Risser finishes out his current term — and don’t bet against it — he’ll break that mark too. He remains coy about whether he will run again but says if he doesn’t he’ll give plenty of notice so candidates will have time to plan their campaigns.

“We’re not likely to see anyone like him again,” says Michael McCabe, director of the Midwestern Office of the Council of State Governments. “You just see so much turnover in government today I doubt anyone will ever touch his record of public service.”

The Council honored Risser during its 2015 annual meeting in Milwaukee with a proclamation read by Wisconsin Rep. Joan Ballweg (R-Markesan), who, despite their party differences, called Risser “a dedicated advocate for the community he represents and the state he serves.”

But if Risser is well known nationally in state government circles, he doesn’t enjoy the same familiarity with the general public in his home state, says Bill Kraus, who at age 91 has been active as long on the state political scene as Risser.

Kraus first worked on a Republican U.S. House of Representatives campaign in 1952 and later ran the campaign and office of former Gov. Lee Dreyfus, a moderate Republican known for his red vest.

“Fred has always been a Madison guy,” says Kraus. “I doubt many people north of Portage could even tell you who he is.”

Rude doesn’t disagree but maintains few politicians have been more effective in representing the positions of those in his district.

“The rap on [Risser] has always been that he’s just a Madison liberal who can’t get anything done, but the fact is, he has effectively delivered for his constituents year after year,” says Rude.

Indeed, from environmental protection to opposition to capital punishment, Risser has unfalteringly carried the banner for voters in one of the most liberal Senate districts in the state.

But unlike back-slapping former Gov. Tommy Thompson or sharp-tongued Ed Garvey, who died earlier this year, Risser has never been known for dropping one-liners or entertaining the crowd with funny stories. He can come off as a pretty serious guy.

Erpenbach notes Risser has a dry sense of humor that includes being able to take a ribbing from younger colleagues.

“The joke I tell is that Fred was around when they laid the first brick at the Capitol,” says Erpenbach, referencing the 100th anniversary this year of the building. “But there is no way anyone can argue the impact he’s had on the state.”

Risser admits he’s benefitted from never having to run against an incumbent. He won a new Assembly district created in fast-growing Madison in 1952 and then won the Senate seat in a special election against Republican Don Hovde in 1962 after Horace Wilke was appointed to the state Supreme Court by Gov. Gaylord Nelson. He’s faced some serious challenges in the Democratic primary over the years from credible candidates but has never really come close to losing — although he’s had to run some TV ads and raise a bit of campaign money.

In 1992, Risser beat attorney Michael Christopher by 11 percentage points. In 1996, he topped local activist and journalist Stuart Levitan by 34 percent. In 2000 he crushed Madison school board member Carol Carstensen, getting 75 percent of the vote. And in 2004 he stomped Green Party candidate Tony Schultz.

Risser hasn’t faced an opponent since.

Levitan, who ran at Risser from the left, can recount details from the campaign even though it was over 20 years ago. But he says he’s no longer following state government close enough to know if Risser — or anyone else — could have done anything to head off the Republican onslaught.

“Collectively, we’re not doing enough to fight Walker, but I don’t know how much of that is on Fred,” Levitan says. “When the Democrats let a Supreme Court election go uncontested, when they should have realized anti-Trumpism would drive a big turnout, there’s bigger problems than any single individual.”

When it does come time to pass the baton, many are saying firebrand Rep. Chris Taylor (D-Madison) would be the immediate front runner.

“She’s a real up-and-comer,” says Risser, passing over the fact Taylor has been in the Legislature since 2012 and before that served 10 years as public policy director of Planned Parenthood of Wisconsin.

Taylor says she was “flattered” that Risser would mention her as a possible replacement but isn’t taking anything for granted.

“Certainly I’d be interested if and when the seat does come open,” she says. “But these are not inherited seats by any means and you have to really work for it. I’m sure this would be an extremely competitive race.”

Given his 90th birthday is approaching, Risser says he figured everyone would be asking about the secret to staying active, so he came up with three answers to the aging question. First off, Risser says he was blessed with good genes.

“I have a lot of ancestors who have lived into their 90s,” says Risser, with the notable exception of his father, who died at age 71 of cancer.

Second, Risser says he was lucky to have avoided any serious diseases or injuries.

“I’ve never smoked, although I do drink,” he admits, joking that he never tried to keep pace with imbibers like Gaylord Nelson, whose only rule regarding alcohol consumption according to legend was “wait until 5.”

Perhaps most importantly, Risser credits his wife of 32 years, Nancy.

“She is a fantastic partner who I really enjoy and look forward to spending time with each day,” says Risser.

The couple met during a 50th year celebration of the opening of West High in 1980, where Nancy was a Spanish language teacher. She had lived internationally and learned Spanish growing up in Ecuador.

“I didn’t even know what a state senator was, but I did think he was kind of cute,” she laughs.

The couple have three grandchildren and one great-grandchild, all the product of adopted children from Risser’s first marriage to Betty, who died in 1976. Risser endured another tragedy earlier this year, losing a grandson to substance abuse.

But those who know the Rissers best say Nancy, who is 15 years younger than Fred, keeps his fire burning.

“You can’t give Nancy enough credit,” says Rude. “She is the best political wife anyone could imagine.”

The couple live in a condo at 100 Wisconsin Ave., but can often be found having morning coffee at the EVP on Mineral Point Road or the East Washington Avenue location. After sharing a kiss, they go their separate ways for the day.

“They’re amazing,” says EVP owner Tracy Danner. “Fred has time for everyone who comes up to him. He’s truly a man of the people.”

For vacation, the Rissers enjoy hiking trips and have now been to all seven continents, hitting Antarctica and Australia last year in a tour run through National Geographic.

Fred Risser has also maintained the family’s general law practice all these years, although it’s no longer operating out of its brick office on West Wilson Street. That building was moved in 2002 to make way for the new Dane County Courthouse, with Risser taking some heat for collecting $728,000 for the property from local taxpayers after initially asking for $1.5 million.

Reflecting on his unprecedented political career, Risser says he is most proud of his work championing women’s rights and for pushing through a statewide indoor smoking ban.

When first elected, Risser recalls there was only one female in the Legislature and there wasn’t even a women’s bathroom on the same floor of the Capitol. White men held every other seat of what was a part-time position with no staff and no desk telephones.

“If you wanted to make a call you had to use the Sergeant at Arms’ phone,” he says.

Wisconsin also had a ban on contraceptive sales to unmarried people. Risser set about changing that law but faced strong opposition from religious groups, among others. It was finally changed in 1976.

Risser faced a similar uphill fight in passing the smoking ban, which was vehemently opposed by the powerful Wisconsin Tavern League and Wisconsin Restaurant Association. Risser and his allies moved forward one step at a time, first banning smoking in public buildings and finally in private establishments.

“We eventually even got it passed for the hotels, which were really opposed,” says Risser. “But now they all like it because they don’t have to pay for all the extra cleaning.”

The one issue where Risser remains frustrated, however, involves the environment. He notes that buildings come and go but says messing with the planet is another matter entirely.

“We have a DNR secretary [Cathy Stepp] who hates the DNR,” he says. “She ran for Senate because the DNR was getting in the way of her home building company and she wanted to go after them.”

Risser also takes Gov. Walker to task for giving the only State of the State speech he’s heard that didn’t mention Wisconsin’s beautiful landscape or its incredible park system.

“Frankly, it all comes down to selfishness and greed,” he says. “You are always going to have that in life, but in this case they are doing irreparable harm.”

During his upcoming birthday bike ride — he likes to go alone so there is no pressure to keep up with anyone else — Risser will use the time for some peace and quiet. It’s a chance to enjoy the outdoors in the state he deeply loves but one where he worries about its future.

“Wisconsin used to be known for clean air, clean water and clean government,” he laments. “I don’t think you can say that anymore.”

Discouraged, yes, but not defeated. And Risser still looks forward to work.

“Sometimes it can be the most frustrating job in the world, but it keeps the adrenalin going,” says Risser. “I get to learn something new every day and meet with so many different people. I still enjoy all of that.”

Correction: An earlier version of this story misstated Bill Kraus' first campaign. He worked on a campaign for the U.S. House of Representatives, not the Senate.