Irascible. Opinionated. Unpolished. Obsessive. And most of all: impatient. William Donald Schaefer was all those things, and more. In a famous 1984 cover story, Esquire magazine referred to him as “Mayor Annoyed.” In the same heartbeat, it also proclaimed him America’s “Best Mayor.”

After the 1968 riot and ’70s recession, with Baltimore facing the double whammy of de-industrialization and suburban flight, Schaefer convinced those who stayed, like him, that they had to work harder, faster, and smarter. He put a chip on the city’s shoulder, convincing us that the whole world was out for Baltimore and that we needed to fight back together.

Today, the ever-growing Inner Harbor stands testament to his transformation of downtown, often by sheer force of will. (See also: the Convention Center, Light Rail, Metro Subway, Camden Yards, and the Ravens.) And after nearly 40 years, the featured image of William Donald Schaefer—in an old-fashioned striped bathing suit and wielding a giant rubber duck—at the opening of the National Aquarium remains an indelible reminder of the former mayor’s deep commitment to Baltimore.

To be sure, Schaefer had blind spots, notably in regard to public education and social services, but looking at City Hall’s current struggle to forward an agenda —i.e. selecting a police commissioner—many Baltimoreans of a certain age believe the city is missing his iconic ethos: Do It Now. “There was management and a strategy in place,” says planning aide Ron Kreitner. “There was also a sense of urgency. You had to be on your toes.”

Schaefer’s legendary attention to detail also remains memorable. “I remember pulling up to a redeveloped block of formerly vacant houses and spotting him, already there, pulling weeds from a tree pit,” recalls former planning aide Ron Kreitner. “He was the mayor and not above pulling weeds. That was the message and it wasn’t staged. He made us paint our own offices and he painted his, too.”

Those anecdotes about Schaefer driving around on weekends and looking for abandoned cars, broken streetlights, and trash-strewn lots, then blasting agency heads in Monday meetings? All true. “I never saw him angry at an average citizen, but he could get angry with a city employee or staffer—and a Sun reporter,” says Abell Foundation president Robert Embry, who also worked for Schaefer. “He understood he couldn’t do everything himself, so he needed to push others to do more. He was married to his job, and he loved the city—that’s why people admired him.”

With his bootstraps mentality, middle-class tastes, and Hochschild Kohn department store suits, he personified the Baltimore everyman—and left, thus far, an irreplaceable legacy, for the people, politicians, and his former staffers, which included many women. “One of my favorite people in the whole world ever,” says Sandy Hillman, Schaefer’s former head of tourism. “Best years of my life working for him. I saw him two months before he died and told him that. ‘Mayor’—he was always Mayor to me, even after he became Governor—‘I never one bad day in the office.’ He said, ‘Oh, you’re delusional.’”

Incumbent Gov. Larry Hogan and his Democratic challenger, former NAACP president Ben Jealous, squared off in a lively, at times contentious, debate Monday hosted by Maryland Public Television.

The two candidates painted vastly different portraits of the state, with Hogan, not surprisingly, making the case that Maryland is on the right track and Jealous challenging that assertion at every opportunity.

Jealous went after Hogan on the state’s economy, noting employment remains below that of other states in the region, the declining performance of public schools, rising health care costs and violent crime rates in Maryland, the cancellation of the Red Line mass transit project in Baltimore, and the still-escalating opioid epidemic.

Firing back, Hogan defended his record of holding the line on tax increases, fees, and business regulations, and cited positive economic progress. When Jealous stated Maryland has been “dead last in the region with job growth,” Hogan, who repeated campaign condemnations of the direction of the state under his predecessor, Martin O’Malley, answered, “We’ve had one of the greatest economic turnarounds in the nation.”

According to a Baltimore Sun post-debate fact-check, Maryland ranks fourth out of five state and the District of Columbia in job creation.

Perhaps the biggest takeaway is voters would be served by another debate—or two—which would help clarify and sharpen the candidate’s facts, positions and agendas. In 2014, Democratic Lt. Gov. Anthony Brown and then GOP-nominee Hogan participated in three televised debates, all of which were held in October, the month before the general election.

Hogan is vying become the first Maryland Republican to be re-elected governor in more than six decades. Jealous, if elected, would be the first black governor in Maryland history and just the third black governor elected in U.S. history. Currently, there are no sitting black governors in the country.

Along with battles over education funding, teacher pay increases (Jealous proposes a 29 percent raise for teachers) and a vision for improving schools, transportation proved a major area of contention. Hogan pitched his work in improving the Washington, D.C. Metro subway, his green light of the Montgomery and Prince George’s Purple Line, and increased spending on highway expansion between D.C. and the Maryland suburbs, and elsewhere in the state. Jealous countered that Hogan’s I-270 and I-295 transportation projects amounted “toll lanes for rich people” and would not solve the state’s daily traffic woes, which include some of the longest commuter times in the country.

Hogan attempted to portray Jealous as an outsider from California, noting he had not registered to vote in the state prior to 2012, but at the same time opened the door to one of Jealous’ most compelling moments of the debate. Jealous, whose parents’ biracial marriage was not legal in Maryland when they wed in 1966, were both Baltimore public school teachers and civil rights activists. Jealous recounted his own life story and that of his family, including his 101-year-old grandmother who never left the city, as well as his frequent summer visits to Baltimore, which he described as “home.”

Hogan touted his bipartisan efforts with the General Assembly to pass tougher gun control measures, stop proposed Trump Administration efforts to cut Chesapeake Bay restoration funding, and passing criminal justice reform legislation to reduce the state’s prison population. He also described Jealous’ Medicare-for-All, universal pre-K and free community college proposals, and other initiatives as too burdensome on taxpayers and “reckless.”

He characterized Jealous’ intention on further reducing the state’s prison population as an effort “to put murderers and rapists and repeat violent offenders back on the street.” Jealous, noting he has lost family members in Howard and Prince George’s counties to violence, responded that Hogan’s remarks were “out of the old [GOP] playbook right from Willie Horton to Donald Trump.”

Jealous also tried to tie Hogan to the president’s immigration policies—the governor sent Maryland National Guard troops to the Mexican border, for example—as well as controversial Secretary of Education Betsy DeVos, a supporter of private charters and private school vouchers. Hogan responded by saying he called the Maryland troops back to the state and merely accompanied DeVos to a reading at Montgomery County school as he did previously with previous education secretaries.

Jealous also forced the governor to defend his record on the opioid epidemic in the state, pointing to huge increases in overdose deaths statewide in recent years, and saying it took Hogan too long, two years, to declare a state emergency after running on the issue four years ago. Hogan replied that he was the first governor in the country to declare a state of emergency around the public health epidemic.

Afterward, Jealous supporters, including former Democratic primary challenger state Senator Rich Madaleno praised his performance. “You can see why the Governor doesn’t want to have another debate,” Madaleno said.

“This is the tipping point in this race,” said Baltimore City Council member Brandon Scott, a former candidate for lieutenant governor on Democratic primary challenger Jim Shea’s ticket.

The Hogan team was equally confident about his performance.

“We’re up 22 points,” said Doug Mayer, Hogan’s deputy campaign manager. “Nothing that happened in that room is going to change that.”

Election Day is November 6, with early voting beginning October 25 and running through November 1.

Outside West Baltimore’s Shake & Bake Family Fun Center, 15 brand new, all-terrain Department of Public Works litter vehicles line the sidewalk. Courtesy of a $500,000 Keep Maryland Beautiful grant from the state, the fleet of golf-cart size street sweepers is being unveiled this morning as the Cardinal Shehan school choir—of Good Morning America fame—kicks off what is billed as Governor Larry Hogan’s “regional cabinet meeting” inside the iconic roller rink.

“Cardinal Shehan school choir—incredible. Wow. I mean they put me in a hard spot,” a beaming Hogan exclaims after a rousing rendition of “Rise Up.” “I’m not sure how you follow anything like that choir.”

The governor has brought his top officials with him, including Pete Rahn, head of the Department of Transportation, and Ken Holt, the state’s housing secretary, but the event has the unmistakable feel of a crowd-for-hire campaign rally. Those cramming into the Shake & Bake—mostly white, largely made up of Maryland government employees in suits and dresses sporting state ID badges—break into applause and standing ovations during the governor’s remarks, while he touts administration efforts in the city. Even the majority of the police officers on hand appear to be from Annapolis.

Tellingly, before Keiffer Mitchell, the former city councilman and current senior advisor to the governor, introduced Hogan, he began his remarks by describing the black renaissance history of Pennsylvania Avenue and the story behind the roller rink, which was started decades ago by former Colt Glenn “Shake & Bake” Doughty.

Neither “The Avenue” nor the roller rink needs an introduction to West Baltimoreans.

It would be easy, in other words, to dismiss the entire orchestration as mere political theater (Hogan implied it was a historic occasion). It is, after all, taking place on the first day of early primary voting, and the governor, without a Republican opponent, is spending the entire day in the heart of Democratic Baltimore, taking headlines away from the opposition. Except, the handful of invitees who live or work in West Baltimore and speak on the governor’s behalf are clearly impressed by Hogan’s outreach and sincerity, including Shionta Somerville, principal at nearby Carver Vocational-Technical High School. Not just today, but over the past four years.

“After his second visit [to Carver], people asked me, ‘How is the Governor?’” Somerville says. “Not people at school but friends of mine outside of school,” she adds with a smile, garnering nervous laughter from the audience, which is fully cognizant that a white Republican governor isn’t likely to engender much affection in heavily Democratic West Baltimore. “I say he’s just down to earth and very charming. I’ve never been very big on politics, but I’m big on people.”

As unlikely as it would’ve sounded at this time four years ago, when he trailed Democratic nominee Anthony Brown by double digits in the polls, Larry Hogan—a first-time Republican elected official in one of the bluest states in the country—is now the second-most-popular governor in the United States. According to a Morning Consult poll this summer, 68 percent of Maryland voters approve of the job Hogan is doing. Only Massachusetts Gov. Charlie Baker, another Republican in a blue state, is more popular, by a single percentage point.

Of course, despite Somerville’s affection and kind words, and Hogan’s genuine talent for retail politics and relationship building, he is not going to carry Baltimore City this November. The overwhelming 10-1 Democratic registration advantage, and his original sins in the eyes of many in the city—cancelling the $2.9 billion Red Line transit project, breaking the decade-in-the-works $1.5 billion State Center redevelopment deal, holding back school funding weeks after the Freddie Gray uprising—are simply a bridge too far.

Also: Larry Hogan doesn’t need to win Baltimore. He didn’t in 2014. With broad support in the state’s suburban and rural counties, he just needs to mitigate the damage. So when Baltimore’s second-highest-ranking elected official, City Council President Jack Young, refuses to answer a reporter’s query about whether he will support the incumbent Republican governor or the Democratic nominee—it should ring alarms among the Democratic party faithful hoping to elect nominee Ben Jealous.

“You heard what people said. Look at his poll numbers,” Young says after offering words of praise for the governor in the lobby of the Shake & Bake as the Hogan event winds down. “I don’t have to tell you [who I’m voting for],” adds Young, suggesting he’s either a genuine fan of the governor, intimidated by his approval ratings, or both. “Who are you voting for?”

By now, most Maryland voters at least know the outline of Larry Hogan’s backstory. That his father, Larry Sr., was a U.S. Congressman and Prince George’s County Executive (also a former FBI agent and one of the first Republicans to come out against Richard Nixon after Watergate). That Hogan worked for his father and held a top appointment in the Republican administration of former Governor Bob Ehrlich, a friend since the pair were in their early 20s. That he was—and still is—the owner of a successful real estate company (while serving as governor, Hogan turned over leadership of his company to his brother and put his assets into a trust). And that he’s a self-described workaholic who didn’t marry until he was 48.

Less well known when he ran four years ago was that he’d run twice for his father’s old congressional seat and lost, which—silver lining here—meant he didn’t have to defend a voting record on Capitol Hill. It also effectively allowed Hogan to position himself as a political newbie in 2014 and an Anne Arundel County “small businessman.” He was anything but, obviously. He served as Maryland chairman of Youth for Reagan and four times as a delegate to the Republican National Convention, displaying sharp political instincts and a knack for savvy messaging from the outset of his stunning upset campaign. Hogan Companies have completed more than $2 billion in real estate deals since they were founded in 1985 and the governor has made roughly $2.4 million in combined corporate earnings and government salary since taking office.

Hogan had begun planting the seeds of what ultimately became his campaign when he launched a Facebook page in 2009 with the name Change Maryland and started trolling Governor Martin O’Malley—“Owe Malley” in red circles—over increases in state taxes, tolls, and fees, and the cost of regulations to businesses. That was five years before he announced his intent to run for governor. “Just a genius use of social media,” says Eberly, political science professor at St. Mary’s College in Southern Maryland. “I can’t think of anything like it before or since.”

In a recent interview at the Governor’s Mansion, Hogan says he was just frustrated at the time by the direction in Annapolis and didn’t necessarily intend to run for office himself. Borrowing from the opposition playbook, he took to Facebook after witnessing the Barack Obama’s groundbreaking use of social media. “It started to grow very quickly,” Hogan recalls. “I couldn’t find anyone I thought could win. [So], I decided to [jump in].”

Later, Hogan memorably—some would say cynically—dubbed an EPA-mandated, storm water management fee initiated by O’Malley “the Rain Tax,” honing his anti-tax message down to a three-word mantra. Avoiding hot-button social issues such as abortion and same-sex marriage that could potentially plague a conservative candidate in Maryland, Hogan—an Irish Catholic who personally doesn’t support the right to choose and says he has “evolved” on gay marriage—simply declared the subjects settled.

Hogan also vowed not to go after the new gun-control laws passed in the state under O’Malley in the wake of the Sandy Hook tragedy, and he has kept those promises. He even went further after the Parkland school shooting announcing he would support a “red flag” bill that would allow judges to temporarily require people to surrender firearms if they are deemed a danger to themselves or others.

Four years later, in his reelection campaign, he’s plugging positive job growth numbers in the state (although Maryland’s unemployment rate remains above the national average and neighboring Virginia and Pennsylvania), and his successful efforts to roll back tolls and push the first day of public school to after Labor Day.

“It’s been a pendulum swing from O’Malley,” says Jennifer Duffy, of the Cook Political Report, a national independent, non-partisan newsletter that analyzes elections. “Hogan doesn’t have an enormous record of accomplishment, and he’s not putting forth a grand vision for the second term, but he’s not raising taxes and he’s focused on deregulating rules for businesses. Maryland’s one of the wealthiest states in the country, has high-ranking public schools, and that’s enough for a lot voters who see no reason to change course.”

The attacks on O’Malley and the Rain Tax have also returned. The Maryland road signs Hogan changed after taking office still say, “We’re Open for Business.”

Hogan’s political success as a Republican governing a blue state is also something of a phenomenon, rarely seen in recent years outside of New England. (See Massachusetts governors Charlie Baker, William Weld, and Mitt Romney; Vermont Gov. Phil Scott; and New Hampshire’s Chris Sununu.) It has put him on the radar of the national Republican strategists who ponder the possibility of a Hogan presidential run—should a more moderate post-Trump GOP ever emerge.

“Larry Hogan is an interesting guy to watch,” says Rick Wilson, a longtime Republican strategist and author of Everything Trump Touches Dies. “He may not be on the radar of the average voter outside Maryland, but political nerds know him.”

“He’s charismatic, he’s a people person, and he loves to talk. He’s been that way for 35 years.”

To understand how Hogan ascended to the stunning position he’s in, which includes a 22-point lead over Jealous in last week’s Goucher College poll, it is worth remembering that he was not really known—think Q rating terms—even after he was first elected. In a low-turnout year, he won by garnering roughly 19 percent of the voting-age eligible population. Ordering the National Guard into Baltimore in the midst of the Freddie Gray uprising 97 days into his first term raised his profile, but he still was not a well-defined figure outside the political class.

That changed two months later when he held a press conference, his wife Yumi by his side, and informed Marylanders he had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma after discovering a lump on his neck during a trade mission to Asia. Staying on the job despite the tough rounds of chemotherapy—his bald pate a visible testament of the battle—the newly elected Hogan, gregarious and self-deprecating by nature, proved more than just relatable to the average Marylander, but courageous as well. “The best news is that my odds of getting through this and beating this are much, much better than the odds I had of beating Anthony Brown,” Hogan joked during the announcement.

Now, there remains a narrative that Hogan’s bout with cancer, fraught as it could’ve been, remains at the core of his statewide appeal. Undoubtedly, it provided a sympathetic boost and a turning point in his approval numbers. But to credit his record popularity three years later to mere goodwill would be not just unfair, but a mistake.

“Let me preface this by saying I don’t think a cancer diagnosis is ever a good thing, for anyone, ever,” says Mileah Kromer, a Goucher College political scientist and pollster. “That said, a lot of people in the state didn’t really know who Larry Hogan was up until then—they hadn’t had time to fully shape an identity around him—and then that did it. Every family has been affected by cancer. His approval numbers were in the 40s at the time, and they shot up. That is all true. But to focus only on that is to miss Hogan’s gifts as a politician.”

Those gifts include Hogan’s remarkable skill in navigating a General Assembly with veto-proof majorities in both the state House and Senate, and dancing, on a nearly daily basis it seems, around the chaotic presidency of Donald Trump, the face of his party, just 35 miles down the road.

Democrats in Maryland, which Trump lost by 26 points, would love nothing more to tie Trump like a lead weight around the governor. Mostly, however, Hogan nimbly sidesteps the Twitter barrage and controversial policies coming from the other Pennsylvania Avenue—the one in D.C. But he has also taken some questionable positions and made some questionable statements for the leader of a blue state.

He remained mostly silent in the wake of the president’s Muslim travel ban and called efforts to limit state cooperation with ICE’s ramped-up deportation of immigrants “absurd,” for example. (In his first year in office, Hogan told the federal government Syrian refugees were not welcome in Maryland.) Two of his officials signed off on the state’s participation in a controversial Trump Administration effort probing alleged voter fraud. He joined embattled U.S. Education Secretary Betsy DeVos on a visit to a Montgomery County school, but declined to comment on the nomination of Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court, a pick many legal observers believe could imperil Roe v. Wade.

Most of these potentially polarizing episodes don’t stick to Hogan, however, and his ability to defuse problematic issues and appear pragmatic and reasonable have become a hallmark.

Hogan makes walking the difficult tightrope between the president’s words and deeds in more liberal Maryland almost look easy, says Richard Vatz, a professor of rhetoric and communications at Towson University. Stylistically, says Vatz, he’s able to alleviate middle-of-the-road Democratic voter concerns while not alienating the Republican base, by presenting himself as “not Trump” rather than “anti-Trump.” “When he does agree with the president’s agenda,” Vatz adds, “he goes out of the way to say he supports the policy, not necessarily the person behind it.”

“The real ‘Trump effect’ is that he is making Hogan look like a moderate,” Kromer says.

The General Assembly did override Hogan vetoes to pass a paid sick leave bill and higher renewable energy benchmarks, among other legislation, but overall he’s proved adept at avoiding losing fights in the state legislature, the importance of which he learned from his stint in the combative Ehrlich Administration. He maintains a solid rapport with powerful Senate President Mike Miller, who has known Hogan, through his father, since the governor was a teenager. “I let a lot of pitches go by,” Hogan says. “Where there is common ground, we work together.”

Hogan has let an automatic MVA voter registration, Planned Parenthood funding, and oyster sanctuary bills become laws without his signature to avoid veto override fights. He worked with the legislature to prevent Marylanders from losing their health care coverage following Trump Administration policy changes related to Obamacare and to oppose EPA cuts to Chesapeake Bay restoration funds. He collaborated with the General Assembly in putting together a $5-billion incentive offer to lure Amazon to Montgomery County.

But Hogan has also developed a knack for getting behind popular legislation he initially opposed. The fracking ban and the education lockbox amendment to the state constitution—which he now refers to as the “Hogan Lockbox” in a television ad—were first put forth and pushed by Democratic legislators. This week, Hogan began displaying a red apple, the trademarked logo of the 80,000-member Maryland State Education Association, on social media and campaign materials even though the teacher’s union has endorsed his Democratic opponent.

Hogan’s greatest gift as a politician, however, apparent to anyone who has crossed paths with him on the boardwalk in Ocean City, walking in Dundalk’s annual Fourth of July parade, or mingling at the Shake & Bake for that matter, is not his flair for branding or his political agility, as remarkable as those skills are. It’s a rare combination of personality traits for politicians: Hogan is not just an astute political animal, he is a happy warrior on the campaign trail, fun to be around, and disciplined off it.

No one has to ask the governor twice to pose for a selfie.

“He’s charismatic, he’s opinionated, he’s a people person, and he loves to talk,” says his old boss Ehrlich, who now works for the D.C. office of law firm King and Spalding. “He’s been that way for 35 years. Not all politicians are outgoing, but it helps, and he’s very outgoing.”

Hogan makes walking the difficult tightrope between the president’s words and deeds in more liberal Maryland almost look easy.

None of this, however, matters to progressive Democratic leaders and activists in Baltimore.

When Hogan brought his team to the Shake & Bake, local lay minister Glenn Smith, vice president of the Baltimore Equity Transit Coalition, led a small protest on Pennsylvania Avenue. Hogan’s spiking of the shovel-ready 14-mile, $2.9 billion Red Line transit project remains an issue because the lack of reliable public transportation remains the biggest impediment to employment in many neighborhoods, Smith says. “This was 13 years of planning, working with community leaders and community associations, and then just to come in and call it a ‘boondoggle,’ instead of, ‘How can we fix this? What can be improved?’ And to send $900 million back to the federal government—who does that?” says Smith, whose organization is trying to revive the once-in-a-generation initiative. “It felt punitive and mean-spirited.”

The governor admits no formal review document of the project was ever produced. State funds that would have been spent in Baltimore were diverted to highway projects in other parts of the state with higher concentrations of white residents, precipitating a civil rights complaint from the NAACP Legal Defense Fund and the ACLU, which the Trump Administration dismissed shortly after taking office.

At the same time, Hogan did green-light the Purple Line transit project, connecting suburban Prince George’s and Montgomery counties. Those two decisions together seemed to underscore a shift in the power structure in the state from Baltimore City to the booming D.C. suburbs.

Subsequently, the Hogan Administration’s $135 million effort to improve the MTA bus system in Baltimore has failed to become the “transformational” public transit system he promised. According to a study by the Central Maryland Transportation Alliance, on-time scores have not improved, and access to all jobs has marginally decreased since the change. More recently, an independent review after a four-week closure of the Metro Subway over potentially dangerous and long-ignored safety issues found troubling problems with the state transit agency, including poor inspection and maintenance practices and a failure to follow industry standards. Baltimore region commute times rank among the worst in country, surpassing even Los Angeles.

Meanwhile, Hogan, who says there are no new plans to address transportation woes within Baltimore City, has backed two high-speed rail projects, the Northeast Maglev and Elon Musk-pitched Hyperloop initiative between Baltimore and D.C, which further agitates some Baltimoreans. “The big problem for Baltimoreans is not getting to Washington, but getting across the city. Moving east-west has been a problem since the 19th century,” says former Johns Hopkins professor and Baltimore City historian Matthew Crenson. “The Maglev and Hyperloop make me furious.”

When Hogan opened his Baltimore City campaign office on North Avenue, City Council members Brandon Scott, Zeke Cohen, and State Delegate Brooke Lierman organized a counter press event across the street.

“There is a record here, and it is not a good record for Baltimore,” Lierman told the Real News Network, highlighting the Red Line, as well as the $1.5 billion redevelopment of State Center, now mired in lawsuits after Hogan’s decision to pull out of the deal. “I’m on the Appropriations Committee. Every year, it is a battle to make sure we are funding the priorities in Baltimore,” she added in an interview with the Real News Network. “Whether that’s the Baltimore Regional Neighborhoods Initiative, whether that’s funding for the Enoch Pratt, every year he cuts those initiatives out of his budget, and the General Assembly has to put that money back in and find money.”

Cohen, a former Baltimore City teacher and chair of the City Council’s Education and Youth Committee, said Hogan has underfunded city schools “somewhere in the range of $290 million to $360 million per year, depending on what study you follow” and alleged that when city school boilers “were bursting across the city and the children were in freezing classrooms . . . Governor Hogan was nowhere to be found.”

Cohen also called out Hogan for referring to unionized teachers as “thugs.”

Dave Werkmeister, a 34-year-old IT sales professional and Patterson Park Neighborhood Association member, voted for Hogan four years ago. Hogan won the city’s first district, the geographical bottom of the so-called “White L,” and may very well do so again, but Werkmeister says he’s been disappointed in Hogan’s actions related to Baltimore. “[The Hogan Administration] put out a map of all the major transportation projects in the state, and literally Baltimore City had been removed from the map,” Werkmeister says. “Symbolically, that said everything to me.”

The low point, in terms of Hogan’s rhetoric toward the city, probably came during the trial of the first police officer in the death of Freddie Gray. On WBAL Radio’s C4 Show, Hogan expressed “concern” that while people were venting their frustration over the death of Gray, who had died in police custody, no one was protesting about the 330 other people murdered in city. As City Councilman Brandon Scott responded, that was not just factually wrong—given the 300 Men Marches, Enough is Enough rallies, Citizens on Patrol Walks, and litany of vigils and efforts—it was disrespectful to the thousands of residents who want nothing more than to quell violence in the city.

It was also dismissive of the troubling and criminal problems within the Baltimore Police Department, highlighted by a Department of Justice investigation and punctuated by the recent convictions of eight members of the department’s Gun Trace Task Force.

In 2015, Hogan’s top housing official, Kenneth Holt, told a gathering at the annual summer conference of the Maryland Association of Counties that he was looking to loosen state lead paint poisoning laws, suggesting current statutes could motivate mothers to intentionally poison their children in order to receive free housing.

“Larry Hogan may be doing a great job for other parts of the state,” Werkmeister continues. “And I am not about to tell someone who lives in another part of the state, in another county, that he’s not. I don’t know that. I live here.”

At some point, pollster Kromer believes, one way or another, the city’s high crime and poverty rates, criminal justice problems, school funding shortages, and lack of reliable transportation, affordable housing, and living-wage jobs—will have to be addressed by Hogan. If for no other reason than Jealous, whose parents have Baltimore roots and who needs a big turnout in the city for the race to be close, will bring it up.

Hogan would rather keep the focus on the State of Maryland than the state of Baltimore, Kromer says. “But Baltimore will be litigated.”

Ben Jealous, the son of former Baltimore City school teachers and a former NAACP president, handily beat Prince George’s County Executive Rushern Baker for the Democratic gubernatorial nomination Tuesday.

Jealous, an unabashed progressive with support from the Maryland teachers union and Sen. Bernie Sanders, will face off against incumbent Republican Gov. Larry Hogan, presenting voters with a clear choice in November. Despite a 2-1 Democratic advantage in registered voters in the state, Jealous is expected to have his work cut out in challenging Hogan, whose approval ratings have consistently ranked in the mid-60s during his first term. Unopposed in the Republican primary, Hogan also starts the general election campaign with a nearly $8 million fundraising lead on Jealous.

“Hogan will lose because he doesn’t know how run to against some who can build people-powered grassroots campaign,” Jealous told supporters at his campaign’s victory party at the Reginald F. Lewis Museum in Baltimore.

Jealous will certainly try to tie Hogan, considered a moderate Republican, to the head of his party, President Donald Trump, who received just under 34 percent of the vote in Maryland in 2016.

“A [Jealous] vs. [Hogan] race isn’t just interesting nationally because of what Jealous represents for the future of the Dem Party,” Goucher College political science professor Mileah Kromer commented on Twitter last night, “it’s also what Hogan represents for the future of Republican Party.”

In another high-profile primary race Tuesday, incumbent Baltimore State’s Attorney Marilyn Mosby won another four-year term, defeating defense attorney Ivan Bates and former prosecutor Thiru Vignarajah, who essentially split the opposition vote. Mosby tallied just less than 50 percent support of Democratic voters with 96 percent of the precincts reporting last night.

Mosby became a national figure in 2015 after filing charges against six city police officers involved in the arrest of Freddie Gray, who died while in custody and maintained the support of numerous Baltimore political leaders, including Rep. Elijah Cummings, former Rep. Kweisi Mfume, and Mayor Catherine Pugh.

In Baltimore County, the Democratic nomination for county executive remained in a three-way deadlock after voting ended. Former Del. John Olszewski Jr., state Sen. Jim Brochin and County Councilwoman Vicki Almond posted 33.1 percent, 32.7 percent, and 31.8 percent of vote with more than 98 percent of the vote counted last night. However, a significant number of provisional ballots—nobody will know until July 5 how many—were likely cast yesterday after the Department of Motor Vehicles announced they failed to update the registrations of 80,000 voters over the past year. In the GOP nomination for Baltimore County executive, Insurance Commissioner Al Redmer easily defeated state Del. Pat McDonough.

In city state senate races, two incumbents, Nathan McFadden in East Baltimore, and Barbara Robinson in West Baltimore, lost to challenges from younger state delegates, Del. Cory McCray and Del. Antonio Hayes, respectively. Another state delegate, Del. Mary Washington appeared to be on the verge of upsetting state Sen. Joan Conway with 96 percent of the voting in Tuesday.

In another high-profile state senate race, Sen. Jill Carter held off a challenge from former school teacher J.D. Merrill, the son-in-law of former mayor and governor Martin O’Malley.

In a state house race that garnered regional and even some national attention, state Del. Robbyn Lewis, a public health expert and the first African-American woman to represent District 46, exceeded expectations in easily fending off a big-money challenge by newcomer Nate Loewentheil, a former Obama Administration official.

With 80 percent of the vote, U.S. Sen. Ben Cardin won the Democratic primary in his bid to return to Capitol Hill. He’ll be challenged by Tony Campbell, an author, minister, and political science professor at Towson University.

In District 6, the only open congressional seat in Maryland, Democrat David Trone, who spent nearly $12 million, will face defense consultant Republican Amie Hoeber, who also won GOP’s 2016 nomination. Rep. John Delaney is resigning his seat in a bid for the Democratic presidential nomination in two years.

The Incumbent: Larry Hogan, Republican
In April, a national Morning Consult poll reported that Gov. Larry Hogan had the second-highest approval rating among governors in the country—a finding that came as no surprise to followers of Maryland politics. The 62-year-old Republican has maintained extraordinary support from state voters, typically posting approval ratings in the mid-60s since his win in 2014. Hogan’s secret in a state where registered Democrats outnumber Republicans 2-1? He blends a dog-loving, Everyman persona with savvy political instincts, carefully picking his battles in General Assembly and avoiding entanglements in President Donald Trump’s seemingly endless capacity for controversy.

According to the late April Goucher Poll, the percentage of registered voters likely to vote for Hogan in November remains in the mid-40s, with roughly a quarter of voters still undecided. While all the action this month is in the June 26 Democratic primary, it is only a prelude to what will be a no-holds-barred general election race in November. A Hogan win would certainly garner him national attention in what is expected to be a blue wave nationally.

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The Contenders
The question heading toward this year’s primary has been: When will the Democratic candidates distinguish themselves from each other? And who, if anyone, will jump out in front of the crowded field? (Polling numbers as of 2/22/18. Forty-seven percent of people polled voted “undecided.”)

Rushern Baker III
The Prince George’s County Executive has held a lead, although not a commanding edge, from the start. A sharp, committed manager, Baker, 59, restored confidence in the P.G. County government following the corruption scandal of predecessor Jack Johnson and has boosted economic development. In 2015, Governing magazine named him one of the top public officials of the year. Polling at: 19%

Ben Jealous
A decade ago, Jealous became the youngest president and CEO of the NAACP, earning kudos for returning the historic civil rights organization to relevance and registering voters. Charismatic and unapologetically progressive, Jealous, 45, has garnered endorsements from U.S. senators Bernie Sanders, Kamala Harris, and Cory Booker, as well as several local unions, including the Maryland State Education Association. Polling at: 10%

Richard Madaleno Jr. 
Vice-chair of the state senate Budget and Taxation Committee and a legislative leader in the Maryland General Assembly, Madaleno should be better known across the state than he is. A married father of two, Madaleno, 53, of Montgomery County, is vying to become the state’s first openly gay governor. He will contend for the progressive vote with Jealous. Polling at: 2%

Alec Ross
A technology policy expert, Ross, 46, served as senior advisor for innovation to Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. Ross came to Baltimore—where he resides with his wife and kids—after graduating from Northwestern University. He taught at a West Baltimore middle school for two years, and later co-founded One Economy, a non-profit that delivers internet access and technology education to low-income communities. Polling at: 3%

Jim Shea
Shea, 65, grew up in Baltimore County, where his mother worked in the public school system. He has never held elected political office, but he did lead the largest law firm in the Baltimore metro area. He has promised to bring a Fortune 500 company to Baltimore, keep the Preakness here, and he picked City Councilman Brandon Scott, 33, as his running mate. Polling at: 2%

Krishanti Vignarajah
A Sri Lanka-native and daughter of two Baltimore City schoolteachers, Vignarajah, 38, served as Michelle Obama’s policy director, helping the former First Lady launch the popular Let Girls Learn initiative. A Woodlawn High School graduate, she earned a law degree from Yale University and is the only woman running in the Democratic primary in a state that has never elected a female governor. Polling at: 2%

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Editor’s note: The print version of this story included information about Kevin Kamenetz’s planned run for governor. Baltimore magazine sends heartfelt condolences to his family, friends, and constituents.

It’s Friday morning, four days before the Democratic primary for
Attorney General, and the last thing on Doug Gansler’s mind is his
reelection campaign. Instead, as he sits in his office on the 20th floor
of a high-rise in downtown Baltimore, he recounts the latest stories of
catching a phony campaign treasurer in Prince George’s County and
putting an end to child prostitution on Craigslist.

“Every week is different,” says Gansler, slouching low in an armchair and kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

Such is life for Maryland’s Attorney General and, possibly, future
governor. One day voter fraud, next day Internet safety—each new issue a
step forward on his steady, as-yet-undeclared march toward higher
office. But the question remains: Will Gansler’s strong opinions and
brash confidence help or hurt him on the road to Annapolis?

Gansler, 48, was first elected attorney General in 2006 and is
running unopposed in both the primary and the general election this
year. This is the second time in three elections that he’s drawn no
opponent—the other was his reelection bid for State’s Attorney of
Montgomery County in 2002.

Gansler’s inclined to view that as tacit approval of a job well done.

“The people have already voted,” he says. “People may not agree with
everything we do here, but I think they respect what we’re doing and
think that we’re doing our jobs.”

Perhaps. But it’s not like he didn’t give the GOP plenty of fodder to
use against him. At the end of February, Gansler made waves when he
issued a legal opinion stating that Maryland law does not prevent the
state from recognizing out-of-state, same-sex marriages.

A veritable press bonanza ensued. The Baltimore Sun and Washington
Post ran lengthy profiles of Gansler, and he was mentioned as one of
CNN’s “Intriguing People.” A week later, when same-sex couples were
granted the right to marry in Washington, D.C., both The Los Angeles
Times and New York Times ran feature stories quoting newlyweds from
Maryland who readily attributed their matrimonial decisions to Gansler’s
legal opinion.

Ostensibly, that opinion came in response to a request on the subject
by openly gay State Senator Rich Madaleno (D-Montgomery County). But
many viewed the sudden announcement as an attempt by Gansler to raise
his profile during an election year.

Chief among his critics was Del. Don Dwyer (R-Anne Arundel County),
who attacked Gansler for overstepping his authority and called for the
Attorney General’s impeachment. A month later, his motion was introduced
on the House floor and voted down 15-5 by the House Judiciary
Committee.

Dwyer and Gansler took jabs at each other in the press, but the
kerfuffle passed. Gansler says his support for gay rights was irrelevant
to the ruling, which shouldn’t have been controversial, despite all the
media attention it garnered.

“The law is crystal clear,” he says. “It’s really no different than Maryland recognizing out-of-state driver’s licenses.”

According to the 45-page opinion, Maryland has a duty to honor
binding agreements made in other states based on simple contract law and
principles of comity. Therefore, in the absence of strong state laws to
the contrary, the default position is to recognize the rights of
couples married outside the state.

Laura Leedy Gansler, the Attorney General’s wife, is a successful
securities lawyer and author of popular nonfiction books, like Class
Action, about an early case in sexual harassment law. She says people
often conflate her husband’s personal views with his legal opinion.
Because he is such a strong supporter of gay rights, people view the
opinion as part of his personal agenda, she says.

“I don’t think it was,” says Laura Gansler. “He would’ve reached that decision anyway.”

Recognizing same-sex marriages from other states, however, doesn’t
mean Maryland is ready to let gay couples marry. Though a Washington
Post poll taken in May indicated for the first time that more
Marylanders support gay marriage than oppose it, attempts to legalize
same-sex marriage have so far failed.

That’s not so much a partisan issue as it is a generational issue, says Gansler.

“There are still people who hold the very outdated, scientifically
disproved view that you just sort of wake up one day and decide to be
gay,” says Gansler. “They think it’s a choice, as opposed to a way that
you’re born.”

Gansler likes to point out that he is the only statewide elected
official in Maryland to come out in full support of gay marriage. His
progressive stance has earned him not only the Human Rights Campaign’s
Ally for Equality award, but also a whole lot of campaign donations.
Since March, Gansler has raised in excess of $373,000 from more than 600
contributions—more than half of that from outside the state. Not bad
for a guy who’s not even in a real race this year.

Of course, there will be future elections. Gansler is widely
considered a likely 2014 gubernatorial candidate and has even joked that
AG stands for “aspiring governor.” Still, he’s loathe to focus on that
aspiration.

“In politics, if you look too far down the road, you get run over by
what’s right in front of you,” he says. For now, Gansler may be doing
his best to take things one (uncontested) election at a time, but his
strongest supporters are more sanguine about his prospects.

Former Maryland and U.S. Sen. Joseph Tydings, one of the Attorney
General’s mentors, says Gansler has a responsibility to the people of
Maryland to run for higher office.

“God knows we need people like Doug Gansler,” he says. Tydings says
the key to winning the governorship will be for Gansler to keep doing
what he’s been doing, calling the shots as he sees them.

“He needs to be independent and make decisions based on the law,” he says. “He needs to be a damn good Attorney General.”

So, will he be the next governor of Maryland?

“My mother thinks so,” Gansler quips.

Gansler’s parents deserve some credit for sending their son down this
career path. His dad, Jacques Gansler, was under secretary at the U.S.
Department of Defense under President Clinton and is now a public policy
professor at University of Maryland. He and Doug’s mother, Alison
Gansler (they’ve since divorced), moved the family from New Jersey to
the Washington, D.C., area when their son was in grade school. Doug
attended the prestigious Sidwell Friends School and was exposed to
politics as an intern for U.S. Sen. Bill Bradley (D-NJ) and Sen. Birch
Bayh (D-IN).

As an undergraduate at Yale, Gansler was a four-year starter on the
varsity lacrosse team—earning all-New England and all-Ivy honors—and the
campus chair of Gary Hart’s 1984 presidential campaign. (Gansler’s love
of lax continues: He plays in an over-35 league and helped found the
Charm City Youth Lacrosse League to encourage inner-city kids to play.)
He went to law school at the University of Virginia and spent several
years at private law firms until he landed a job as assistant U.S.
Attorney. He stayed from 1992 to 1998, prosecuting more than 1,000
cases, including a high-profile conviction of a diplomat for killing a
teen in a drunk-driving accident.

By then, Gansler had made friends in D.C.’s legal and political
circles, which set the stage for his first election as State’s Attorney
of Montgomery County in 1998. There, Gansler really started to make a
name for himself.

As State’s Attorney from 1999 to 2007, Gansler earned a reputation as
both a media hound and a sensational lawyer. He took on high-profile
cases, convicting Mike Tyson of assault for a scuffle after a minor
fender-bender. He publicly chastised a judge for a weak ruling in a
child-molestation case. He earned the first-ever reprimand from the
Maryland Court of Appeals for talking to reporters about two ongoing
murder cases.

But Gansler was perhaps best known for prosecuting the infamous
“Beltway Snipers” in 2006, even after they had received severe sentences
for murders that took place in Virginia. Though his prosecution for the
six Montgomery County murders turned up new evidence and led to the
only full account of the killing spree from Lee Boyd Malvo, Gansler
still had to defend himself against those who saw the trial as a
publicity stunt.

Sen. Tydings sees his protegé’s willingness to take on big cases as a
good thing, but he admits that Gansler’s candor is both an asset and a
liability.

Tydings helped get Gansler elected in 1998 and has been a mentor ever
since. The two meet once a month at a diner and talk on the phone
regularly. Tydings says he tried to get Gansler to tone down his
rhetoric in his early days as State’s Attorney.

His advice then? “Don’t answer too many questions. Keep your answers very short.”

Gansler hasn’t taken that message to heart. While other politicians
equivocate and obfuscate, Gansler responds directly, expounding far
beyond what’s required.

Until the opinion on same-sex marriage, however, he kept himself out
of the limelight as Attorney General. Four years ago, Gansler was afraid
he would be painted as a “tree-hugger” for his support of major
environmental reforms, but those fears never materialized.

Gansler has stuck to his green agenda. Among the major
accomplishments of his first term were the largest air-pollution
settlement in U.S. history ($4.6 billion from American Electric Power),
the largest water-pollution case in Maryland history ($1 million from
Constellation Energy), and the largest civil penalty imposed for an oil
spill in Maryland ($4 million from ExxonMobil). Whether his efforts to
clean up the bay have scored him many political points remains to be
seen.

“It’s not sexy,” Gansler says. “But it’s got to be done.”

Gansler says his job as Attorney General is apolitical. In the 18
years he’s been putting criminals in jail, he says no one’s ever accused
him of being a liberal.

“I view myself as a pro-business, moderate, centrist Democrat who
thinks, by the way, that same-sex couples should be able to enjoy life,
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

Sounds like a gubernatorial platform.

As delegates, dignitaries, and senators stream inside Annapolis’s Government House, 4-year-old first fils Drew Ehrlich stands shoeless in the center of the stately foyer. Dressed in a bright red turtleneck and a pair of chinos, he hands out the official welcome brochure to his home—the home of Maryland governors and their families for 134 years. After the cold clarity of the January night, the warmth of the residence is even more striking—the crimson-colored walls, the oversized oriental rugs that blanket the red oak parquet floors, the majestic 49-step red oak staircase, and the dazzling smile of Drew that seems to outshine even the 1,440 watts of light cast by the foyer’s magnificent Waterford chandelier. ¶ First Lady Kendel Ehrlich, seven months pregnant at the time, stands proudly at Drew’s side, and mother and son welcome visitors to an art show honoring the work of seven Maryland sculptors. It is the first function since the opening of the General Assembly, and the house is on display. Ehrlich is beaming. “I didn’t want this house to be too formal,” she says. “I wanted the house to be family-friendly and a place of comfort—not only for our family but for the people who work here as well.”  

Despite her new title and state-function duties, Ehrlich hasn’t changed much since she was co-captain of the Dulaney High School lacrosse team. She is down-to-earth, disarming, and without pretense. Last Halloween, she set a precedent by opening the gates of Government House to trick-or-treaters and gave out goody bags filled with stencils, Tootsie Rolls, and lollipops. 

Although the former prosecutor and public defender seems tailor-made for the role of state hostess, she’s still adjusting to life as a public figure. “The funniest thing is when you’re with a friend you’ve grown up with,” says Ehrlich, “and someone stops and asks for your autograph and then your friend turns to you and says, ‘Why are they asking you?’” 

And then there was last year’s conference on domestic violence, when Ehrlich caused a national stir with her off-the-cuff comment that “if I had an opportunity to shoot Britney Spears, I think I would.” The notoriety has only increased her profile. When the news of her comments broke, even Tom Brokaw was talking about Kendel Ehrlich on the nightly news. “Everyone knows First Lady Kendel Ehrlich now because of Britney,” says Governor Robert L. Ehrlich Jr. with a laugh. “That night, I tried to be a supportive husband, and told her, ‘No one will pay any attention to this,’ but the next day when we woke up, we heard [Kendel’s voice on the radio]. And you know it’s going to be a bad day when you wake up to the sound of your own voice.” 

But the Britney brouhaha, babies, and the blizzard of February 2003—which delayed the First Family’s move by three days—were only some of the hurdles facing the first Republicans to live in the mansion since 1966. The First Lady and the Governor had a challenge when they moved to the mansion with nothing more than a leather sofa, their four-poster bed, a box of Brio trains, and a crib. Although many teenagers grew up in Government House, there hadn’t been a preschooler in the house since Governor Herbert R. O’ Conor’s son, Robert John, roamed the halls in 1939. 

“Moving to [Government House] was very weird at first,” says Governor Ehrlich. “I didn’t like it for the first six months. I was raised in a rowhouse in Arbutus and went from that to a small apartment and from that to a small condo and from that to a small townhouse. I missed my basement. I missed my neighborhood.” 

When the Ehrlichs moved in, the private quarters of the house were drab, dour, and dated. “The private areas of the house didn’t look wonderfully cared for,” says Diane Weiss, an interior designer for Baltimore’s Louis Mazor, Inc. who was hired to help design and decorate Government House. “It didn’t sparkle. We wanted it to be alive. One of the wonderful things about the Governor and his wife is that they have such an open door policy for state and legislative functions, and we wanted the family quarters to feel that way, too.” 

Decorating the private areas of the 54-room residence (which includes public and private quarters, as well as administrative areas) was a challenge for Ehrlich: She had never had a home professionally decorated and had to work within the constraints of a tight budget while remaining true to the history of the house. (Many pieces were donated, sold at cost, loaned from The Maryland Historical Society, or drawn from an enormous state-owned reserve of furniture from past administrations.) 

Working with Weiss, as well as with Annapolis-based Sandy Brock of Sandra Mitchell Designs and veteran Government House residence manager Sandra Rose, the First Lady got a fast lesson in home design. “What was really fun and exciting about this was to see someone who has as much grace and style as Kendel really come into her own,” says Sandy Brock. “She had never done a house before. To help her discover her own style was our job. We would look at a room and say, ‘What do you think you and the Governor and Drew will do in this room?’  And she began to think about the space.” 

The designers discovered that the First Lady’s taste runs toward chenilles, rich silks, warm butter colors, and burnt oranges. “The governor had a little bit of input,” laughs Weiss. “He wanted dark colors in the bedroom and in their private bathroom the walls are a corally, deep spice color lightened up with beautiful beiges. The master bath is chocolate brown with travertine marble.” Despite both designers’ playful, but strong, suggestion that the First Family replace a beloved green leather sofa, the Governor laid down the law. “There was a reception last fall for Maryland Day,” recalls Brock, “and Governor Ehrlich announced, ‘No matter what Sandy Brock says, I’m keeping the sofa!’” Retorts Governor Ehrlich, “My input on the house was zero, nada. My only request was the green sofa. The sofa is my connection to my past.” It currently resides in the family’s less-formal  family room.

The First Lady’s dressing room is Stroheim & Romann blue and white toile, and Drew’s room—purchased mostly from Pottery Barn and the Company Store—has the requisite Bob the Builder sheets and a patriotic red, white, and blue color scheme. The Glendenings’ legendary one-time purple meditation room has been replaced by a genteel Designer’s Guild, animal-themed baby nursery. A nanny’s room is adorned in Clarence House black chintz with a floral design. 

Much of the new furniture that was purchased is Maryland-made and is predominantly from Millersville’s Niermann Weeks and Hagerstown’s Beachley (Niermann Weeks also donated many pieces). In addition, much of the state-owned furniture, dating back to the 1700s, was brought out of state archives. “Ninety percent of the furniture was in storage,” says Weiss. “It was fabulous to go through it. We used lots of accessories and dressers and armoires and a pair of magnificent mahogany highboys from the late 1800s.”

To embrace Maryland’s history and heritage as a British colony, the designers focused on fabrics made in Britain such as Brunswig & Fils, Nina Campbell, Cowan & Tout, Osborne & Little, and Colefax & Fowler.

On a blustery day in mid-January, as Drew played air hockey with his babysitter in the basement playroom and later joined state troopers, a chef, and various staff members for a midday meal, Kendel (in a friend’s borrowed maternity dress) sat down with Baltimore magazine to discuss her new role at 110 State Circle.   

Baltimore magazine: What was your first night of staying in Government House like?

Kendel Ehrlich: We stayed here before the inauguration. What was very funny was our first dinner in the private dining room. [The First Family elects to eat many of their meals in the main kitchen.] It didn’t look like it does now—it was really formal with white wallpaper and wingback chairs. It was an effort to get the Governor to feel comfortable here. The three of us were sitting at the table. The staff came up, and they said, “What do you want for dinner?” And we said, “Well, what do you have?” We were looking for a menu or something—it was just very strange. The chef who has been here for many years said, “Well, everyone really seems to like the crab cakes.” So we said, “That sounds good to us. Let’s have the crab cakes.” Bob and I looked at each other like, “What are we doing here? This seems so unreal.”  

Baltimore: Can you recall the first time you were ever inside Government House?

Ehrlich: When I was dating Bob, we came in briefly for a holiday party for Governor [William Donald] Schaefer. I didn’t have a strong memory of it other than the staircase. The next time was November of 2002 after Bob was elected. We got a call from [Governor Parris Glendening’s wife] Jennifer Crawford to see if Bob and I would like to come see the house so that we could make arrangements in our minds and prepare for the move.

Baltimore: And what did you think?

Ehrlich: I thought that much of my furniture wouldn’t fit. My furniture would have been lost in most of the rooms. We took almost nothing with us except for Bob’s favorite green leather couch. The poor guy had so little say in the decorations, but he wanted to keep the couch.

Baltimore: You moved from a three-bedroom townhouse in Mays Chapel. How did you feel about the prospect of moving to a 54-room house?

Ehrlich: I was in awe, [and] I was overwhelmed. It needed a lot of paint and love in that direction. Structurally, the home is beautiful, and it has been well maintained over a long period of time. When you look at this book I have of the different governors’ mansions throughout the country, you realize that this home is really very special. It has a lot of livable space. From the outside, it’s a big home, but from the outside it’s hard to tell how much of it is formal and how much of it is private area. 

The back staircase hadn’t been touched for years. The area where the troopers are and where many people enter the mansion hadn’t been looked at in years. That area receives a lot of people. Downstairs there’s an industrial-sized refrigerator, but I put a regular sized refrigerator in the butler’s pantry.  I wanted a place where Drew could go get his own soda or ice pops in the summertime. The last thing I want is a child who is ringing a bell! 

Baltimore: Did you give much thought about what it would be like to live here before you moved in?

Ehrlich: We did not know how the house operated at all. We did not think a day past the election. We do so much entertaining, and that’s the way this house should be shared. We are caretakers of this home, and I think we are bringing a sense of family and comfort to the house, but the flip side of that is I do not have to cook; I do not have to get to Wal-Mart. I don’t have to worry about the laundry and other things of that nature. It frees up your time, and you don’t realize how much of you time gets used up with those things, particularly preparing meals. 

Baltimore: What did the house look like before you moved in?

Ehrlich: It was a little duller than I would have liked, and it looked dated. It looked like what I would describe as “a grandmother’s home.” In defense, I don’t think the others paid that much attention to it. It just wasn’t important to them. We recently had dinner with Governor [Marvin] Mandel and Governor Schaefer, and they both said they’ve never seen the house look better, which made me feel good since they both lived here. I thought that was a wonderful compliment. Frances Glendening did many of the public rooms. I like a lot of what she has done. One of the public rooms we will focus on is the Victorian Room. It hasn’t been touched in a long time. The banister on the main staircase also needs to be brought up to code.

Baltimore: The house was completed in 1870 and has had governors and their families living here for 134 years. What do you want your imprint to be?

Ehrlich: In fairness, the home has not had a toddler in it since 1939. It just didn’t seem child-warm. My townhouse was nothing but toys, and was the other extreme. Most of my thinking was along the lines of “How can I make this family-friendly and warm for a child?” I wanted to make this livable for a family. 

Baltimore: We have heard that the spirit of the home has changed since you and your family have taken occupancy. What do you think is meant by that?

Ehrlich: The feeling of the house is very different now. We are child-driven, and I think we have a more interesting interaction with the staff. Drew is particularly fond of the chefs, and they will play with him and the troopers are excellent with him—that’s not part of their job description. We are more like big family. Drew cuts the tension. There’s nothing better than seeing the Governor in a room talking to a group of people, and Drew will come flying through with a friend going downstairs to shoot some pool or making some comment to his dad. I think that has been really wonderful . . . The only downside is that it’s not a neighborhood, and I grew up in a real neighborhood. That’s the only downside of living here—you need to import kids. 

Baltimore: With all the historic objects and state-owned artwork and furniture in the house, were you nervous that Drew was going to touch something he shouldn’t?

Ehrlich: No, because Drew is not the kind of a kid who touches everything. Drew immediately stayed out of the public rooms. He is still at the age where he wants to be wherever we are. He is also a very adaptable child. Hopefully, I’m not pushing my luck with the next one [Joshua, born March 6]. For the most part, Drew stays where we are and where his things are. Everyone asks me, “Has he slid down the banister yet?” I’m hoping that when the time comes, I’ll have enough control over my child for that not to happen, but you never know. 

Baltimore: Does Drew have many play dates here?

Ehrlich: Yes, Drew has play dates here, although not as many as I’d like. The house is isolated. It has a very nice yard and a private area outside which is kind of a basketball court at this time, but we’re not in a neighborhood. . . .

Baltimore: How would you describe your aesthetic and sense of style?

Ehrlich: I’m a color person, but I never had time in our life before to do what I wanted to do even in our townhouse. I now had the opportunity to use color—the large ceilings in this home really lend themselves to color. I’m a real red and yellow person, and I also love the sage green of this sitting room. It’s almost neutral, and you can do so much with it. This kind of color was not in the house before. This room was really transformed. I respond to color and comfort. 

I picked out most of the fabrics [about 50 different kinds] that were used in this house in one six-hour period. I really did have a good idea regarding colors and what I wanted to do.

Baltimore: Why did you pick Sandy Brock and Diane Weiss to help you transform Government House?

Ehrlich: What appealed to me about using Sandy Brock is that her homes manage to be beautiful, but they are also comfortable and usable. You don’t walk in and feel like you are afraid to sit down. I had also seen a couple of rooms Diane Weiss had done and loved her work. 

Baltimore: What’s your favorite room?

Ehrlich: The private family sitting room is my favorite room. It’s warm and open. We use this room a lot at night, and Bob sometimes does work in here.

Baltimore: You have two private family rooms. The sage green room is more formal. Tell me about your less formal family room. 

Ehrlich: Well, this room was very formal. We added plantation shutters and Bob’s green leather couch and Princeton pillows. The painting over the couch was done by Bob’s aunt, Bette Leggett. Again, this is a room that Drew and I can utilize a lot. 

Baltimore: Tell us about the magnificent rug in the drawing room. 

Ehrlich: The rug was purchased through Jon Levinson at Alex Cooper Auctioneers under the Schaefer administration from an estate in Colorado. I’ve heard the rug was so heavy [the 22-by-31-foot antique Persian weighs 670 pounds, according to Levinson] that it couldn’t be flown on an airplane because it could roll in flight and be dangerous. Instead, they had to drive the rug here from Colorado!

Baltimore: How do you define the word “home”?

Ehrlich: Warm, comfortable, inviting, friendly.

Baltimore: Is that how you would describe yourself?

Ehrlich: Yes, I think so. I try to be all those things.

Baltimore:  Is it strange to live in a place that is open to the public for tours?

Ehrlich: It is very strange to have executive protection, and it can be very strange to have so many people in your house. We’ve had some very large parties, with hundreds of people in the house. Sometimes Drew will say, “Are we going to have a lot of people coming over tonight?” His main concern is whether or not he will be able to hear his cartoons.

Baltimore: Have you ever accidentally walked down the stairs in your bathrobe while a tour was going on?

Ehrlich: I haven’t, but Drew walked out unclothed one day and might have flashed a tour group coming through. 

Baltimore: How will things change with baby number two?

Ehrlich: It will be interesting to have a second child totally raised in this house. Drew had a different type of exposure of seeing me drive and do things that the next one won’t. Drew was with me at the grocery store like every other child who goes with his mom, but things will be a little different for this kid. I almost feel an obligation to take [Joshua] to the grocery store.

 Raising children here just makes my job a little bit harder to teach the values that keep me grounded in this job. That is really important. There will come a day when we won’t live here anymore. You need to prepare yourself and remember that. Sometimes people don’t, and the transition back to real life is harder. 

Baltimore: What has surprised you the most about the job?

Ehrlich: For my role, I think it was the emphasis on the home and the house. I am a people person. I enjoy getting out speaking—even when it gets me in trouble. But I also feel privileged to be in one of the homes in the country that is one of the more spectacular homes. I did not realize I would be spending as much time with the house as I have. We’ve gotten to a threshold with it. I’m hoping that other folks in The Foundation for the Preservation of Government House will be able to take over a little bit more.  

For Bob, the biggest surprise has been the press. In Congress, you don’t get that much coverage. As governor, everything you say and do is newsworthy, and I guess I learned that lesson, too.

Baltimore: Do you think that the idea of a First Lady is an antiquated one?

Ehrlich: I have become a real believer in this role. People like tradition, and that’s all part of it. I got so many compliments about the way I dressed in Maryland colors for the Preakness. People love for you to do that. The preservation of history in combination with tradition is a part of it. I am 42, and a lawyer who would have defined herself as a professional person for a very long period of time. But I think in this day and age you need to recognize the balance of tradition with a more modern role. I’m using the term ‘the role’ because that’s what it is—there is a role to it. Some days you might get up and not feel like doing certain things but the expectations of being in this position are justified in many ways and you have to accept that when you put yourself on the line to achieve something like this. 

Baltimore: Are there any past first ladies who have inspired you?

Ehrlich: It’s hard to do the role outside of your personality and circumstance. Laura Bush is traditional. She really travels with her husband everywhere, and Hillary Clinton is in the Senate now. My personality is to be out. I like to be out. A lot of first ladies have chosen not to be that way. It just depends on where you are in your life at the time you are doing this. Bob and I do a lot of the politics together. 

Baltimore: What books are on your night table right now?

Ehrlich: Bob always reads biographies and I get a lot of books from him. Right now, I have Dr. [Ben] Carson’s book [Think Big] on my night table.  

Baltimore: What has been your greatest pleasure as First Lady?

Ehrlich: My husband kids me: “Well, who wouldn’t want to be First Lady? You don’t have to deal with the legislature. You don’t have all the issues.” I always joke that I’m for everything good and nothing bad. Probably the biggest thing you can do is to be a role model, particularly for young women. 

Baltimore: What do you want your legacy to be in this house?

Ehrlich: I want the legacy to be family and comfort. I also want to update the home for the comfort of the people who work in this home and who are here every day. Hopefully, I’ve tried to do things in a way that will stick around for a while after our administration.

Baltimore: When you were a little girl, did you ever dream about what you wanted to live in when you grew up?

Ehrlich: I always did like a big house on the hill, but I certainly never envisioned living here!

Government House Trivia

What the Ehrlichs watch: ESPN, TNT

Food staples: Crab soup, chicken nuggets,
bottles of Starbucks frappucino, energy bars

The First Lady’s favorite object: Waterford
chandelier in private dining room

The Governor’s favorite room: His historic office

Number of fireplaces: 13

Number of bathrooms in private quarters: 9

Oldest object: Portrait of John Hart, which dates back to 1732 and is valued at $70,000

Most valuable object: A painting of George Washington by Charles Willson Peale, valued
at $500,000. The painting includes two small cartoons which scholars believe were made by Peale’s children.