Never Underestimate Your Impact

When I was a college student, I had an opportunity to work for Councilmember Harold “Rusty” Fairly. I was interning for his public affairs consultant, who said, “I want you to go help Rusty out.” So I walked a block over to City Hall and met the man who would be like a second father to me for many years.

Rusty, with his bright red hair, engaging smile, and commitment to the community, introduced me to local politics and provided outstanding learning opportunities. As we drove around to meetings, he offered input on everything from navigating my budding career to my romantic relationship, always with a sense of humor.

While he was a moderate Republican, he was close friends with then-Mayor Harriet Miller. She offered him a ticket to attend a small gathering with presidential candidate Hillary Clinton, and when he couldn’t go, he offered it to me. I felt completely out of my depth hobnobbing with the Democratic faithful but was impressed with Clinton’s delivery of her stump speech.

As an Administrative Aide, I got to work on the transfer of the Naval Reserve Building (now the Maritime Museum) from the federal government to the City. It’s amazing that the person working on the congressional side remains one of my close colleagues today, all because we worked on that project together.

The side of Rusty that I didn’t know, but the reason for which he is being celebrated this week, is his impact as the Santa Barbara City College baseball coach, developing three future major league baseball players during his 17 seasons.

Rusty came from an athletic family. His father was a professional baseball player, and Rusty’s younger brother, Ron, was a well-known Dodger. Rusty was a college football quarter and played one season in the Canadian Football League — with the nickname “The Mad Musician.” It’s said he suffered such intense hits that his pupils remained differently dilated for the rest of his life.

This week, he will be inducted into the SBCC Hall of Fame, and I appreciated Mark Patton’s article in Noozhawk about Rusty’s influence on him. While I may not be a Major League baseball player, I am eternally grateful for the role Rusty, and his wife, Lynda, played in my life.

Rusty passed away in 2016 at 83 years old after a long struggle with Alzheimer’s, but his legacy to community service lives on.