Dennis Richardson, the Oregon secretary of state and first Republican elected to the position in three decades, died of brain cancer Tuesday night at age 69.

Richardson was a respected and well-liked statesman, although at times a divisive figure in Oregon politics, who rose through the ranks to become his party’s most successful standard-bearer in more than a generation with his election as secretary of state in 2016. The victory snapped a 16-year losing streak that had kept Republicans from statewide office.

Richardson died at his home in the southern Oregon city of Central Point while with family and friends, Leslie Cummings, the deputy secretary of state, said in an announcement Wednesday.

“Dennis leaves a legacy of always aiming high, expecting excellence, moving fast, and doing what is right for the people,” Cummings’ statement said. “It has been an honor and a privilege to work with such an incredible leader and wonderful friend. He will be greatly missed.”

Gov. Kate Brown ordered flags lowered to half-staff in recognition of Richardson’s death.

“Regardless of what side of the aisle his colleagues sat on, we all knew Dennis’ kind heart guided his career of service to the people of Oregon," Brown said in a statement.

The Oregon Constitution directs the governor to appoint Richardson’s successor. Brown’s statement said she will review candidates “in the coming weeks” and only appoint a Republican who will promise not to run for secretary of state in 2020.

Richardson announced in June 2018 that a “small cancerous brain tumor” had been found and said he would begin treatment. Though he was secretive about the exact diagnosis, Richardson said he would do all he could to not let cancer slow his work.

Richardson said he had every intention of running for re-election in 2020, but the disease took its toll. He made fewer public appearances and began attending meetings of the State Land Board, of which he is a member, by speakerphone. Richardson pared back his work hours and announced February 4 that he would scale them back even further.

Soft spoken and physically fit, Richardson was a devout Mormon, father of nine and grandfather of 31, a helicopter pilot during the Vietnam War and attorney by trade.

“His first love was God,” said Gene Whisnant, a former Republican state representative from Sunriver who served with Richardson. “His second was family.”

Richardson was married to his second wife, Cathy, for more than 45 years. They had eight daughters, including one adopted out of foster care, in addition to a son from his first marriage.

Richardson was first elected to the Oregon House of Representatives in 2002 and served six terms, earning a reputation as a politician fiercely committed to his conservative social beliefs who focused on the details of policy and budgets in particular.

14 Dennis Richardson

He rose through the ranks of committee assignments to appointment in 2011 as co-chairman of the Ways and Means Committee, an important post with control over the state budget.

The promotion came during a crucial year when the House membership was tied 30-30 between Democrats and Republicans, a rare circumstance that required an extra dose of politicking and tact to pass legislation.

“It was an unusual time. No one had the right to say yes, but everyone had the right to say no,” said Sal Esquivel, a former Republican representative whose district abutted Richardson’s.

“There was a lot of statesmanship that went on,” Esquivel said of the tied House. “Dennis was a part of that.”

Former Republican representative Bruce Hanna, who was co-House Speaker during the tie, recalled how Richardson, against all odds, successfully negotiated a large budget surplus that year. “That still might be historic,” Hanna said.

Julie Parrish joined the House as a Republican during the tie year. She said she became an immediate fan of Richardson after watching him warn of looming public pension debt and push for fiscal restraint while heading the budget committee.

“On the Republican side, we really looked to Dennis,” said Parrish, who later managed Richardson’s secretary of state campaign.

“It was so critical at that moment that we get the budget right," Parrish said. "I think he helped launch us back into prosperity as a state.”

Richardson stepped into the statewide spotlight in 2014, when he ran for governor and easily secured his party’s nomination to face incumbent Gov. John Kitzhaber. It was the most controversy-ridden contest in decades, with Kitzhaber confronting questions about his and his fiancée’s judgment in light of accusations of illegal influence peddling.

Richardson worked to put the scandals to his advantage with a series of online and television ads that called for federal officials to begin a “public corruption” investigation of Kitzhaber. Still, Richardson remained behind in every poll. As vote tallies rolled in on election night showing Kitzhaber would be the clear victor, Richardson initially refused to concede.

After the bruising defeat, he was hesitant to re-enter politics. But Parrish showed him polling that indicated he could have a chance at election as secretary of state. He declared his candidacy and another bitterly contested campaign ensued, this time against then-Labor Commissioner Brad Avakian.

Avakian, the Democratic nominee, painted Richardson as an “extreme Republican” made in the image of Donald Trump and publicized gauche statements Richardson made comparing homosexuality to drug addiction and advocating that illegal immigrants convicted of crimes “do their time in a private prison in China.” Richardson pushed back, spotlighting Avakian’s personal bankruptcy filing, late tax payments and brief suspension from the state bar.

Unlike when Richardson ran for governor, polls showed he was within striking distance of victory. He bested Avakian by almost 70,000 votes and became the first Republican statewide officeholder since Jack Roberts resigned as labor commissioner at the end of 2002.

Though he was now Oregon’s highest-ranking Republican, Richardson vowed to approach his new job as a nonpartisan. “As secretary of state, I will be functioning as an Oregonian,” he said during his inaugural address. “It’s my commitment that you will not know whether I have an 'R' or a 'D' behind my name.”

Indeed, one of Richardson’s first proposals in office was a bill to limit his own powers to initiate investigations of candidates for office, an idea his spokesman at the time, Michael Calcagno, said would “depoliticize the office.”

That bill never came to pass, but Richardson instituted other reforms big and small.

He directed his agency’s line-by-line spending be posted online. He simplified audit reports so they could be more easily read by the public. He reinstated thousands of inactive voter accounts. He proposed a nonpartisan commission draw legislative district boundaries. He even publicly rejected Trump’s unfounded claims of voter fraud — and denied a request by the Trump administration’s voter fraud commission for sensitive data on Oregon electors.

Richardson also raised eyebrows in the state Capitol with his unorthodox and independent approach to the office of secretary of state.

He viewed himself as a quasi-lieutenant governor, though he had no such powers. He used his agency’s Corporations Division, which manages business registrations, to justify an overseas trade mission despite that duty resting traditionally with the governor. And he submitted comments to the attorney general during the dull task of composing ballot measure titles — getting so punctilious as to offer his views on the correct usage of punctuation. (He would also comment even if only to say the titles were worded to his liking.)

But the role Richardson most embraced as secretary of state was that of chief auditor. While campaigning, he said audits of state government had been underused or watered down by prior secretaries of state, Democrats who hadn’t wanted to rock the boat in Salem.

Under Richardson, auditors quickly got to work investigating wasteful health care spending, poorly run child welfare programs, Portland Public Schools and even the failed Columbia River Crossing project, to name a few.

The unsparing audit reports often pointed out embarrassing shortcomings on the part of state leaders who were mostly Democrats.

“A lot of people didn’t like that. They said it was politically-driven," said Esquivel, the former state representative.

“Dennis just told it like it was and made a lot of people uncomfortable," Esquivel said. “But that was his job.”

-- Gordon R. Friedman

GFriedman@Oregonian.com; 503-221-8209

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