Joe Neal, a Nevada legend, takes victory lap on 80th birthday

Joe Neal was so much a part of the fabric of the Nevada Legislature that it's hard to imagine he has been out of office 15 years.

The state's first black senator spent three decades fighting for Nevada's poor and working class, standing up against the status quo and often in the face of powerful political winds. Whether through legislation or by providing a voice to the voiceless, his contributions to Nevada were great.

As he celebrated his 80th birthday recently at the Texas Station surrounded by family and friends, Neal found himself in the unfamiliar position of allowing others to trump him on the floor. The tributes from his adoring children, each with their own professions and families, must have made him proud.

Then there were his allies from the political trenches. As I listened to the remarks of Congresswoman Dina Titus, former legislators Valerie Wiener and Morse Arberry, and university Regent Cedric Crear, it became clear that Neal's presence in the Legislature was great, and his role in growing political opportunity for all Nevadans was essential.

He was elected in 1972 after spending the better pert of a decade working toward economic opportunity in the hotels and building trades, especially at the Nevada Test Site. Neal memorized the Legislature's rules of order and developed the uncommon habit of actually closely reading the bill drafts.

"In the Legislature, he knew the rules better than anybody there," former state Sen. Titus said.

Neal fought to gain and keep committee chairmanships, waged war against conservatives in his own party and battled attempts to circumvent his seniority. In time, Neal became known for his gifted oratory on unpopular topics that made some of his colleagues cringe.

Imagine a 1975 Nevada in which legislation that would have made carrying an Afro "cake cutter" comb a felony was seriously debated on the Senate floor, and you will begin to understand the Carson City Neal encountered early in his career.

His voice was powerful outside the Legislature, too. When the tone-deaf Las Vegas City Council thought it appropriate to welcome a visiting contingent from South Africa during the heart of the apartheid era, it was Neal who leveled criticism and took the heat.

His critics, most of whom never had to fight to be heard, liked to say he was a one-note singer in the legislative choir, that his iconoclastic streak at times made him less effective. But the passage of time has proved Neal right on several issues. From the need to expand health care to the scandalous treatment of minorities by police, he stood when others stared at their shoes.

It was Neal's knowledge of the rules that enabled senators to pass the Equal Rights Amendment out of that half of the Legislature. It was Neal's unrelenting effort that helped give Nevada the best commercial fire safety codes in the United States after the tragic MGM Grand fire.

Neal and Titus sounded the alarm about attempts to deregulate Nevada Power on the precipice of the Enron era. And it was Neal who was an outspoken critic of special-interest legislation, including the infamous "Show Me the Monet" art tax that benefited art-collecting casino mogul Steve Wynn.

Nevada has never enjoyed an abundance of outspoken political leaders. Many of the state's maladies have festered because of the timidity of a style of governing better suited to a company town than a modern society.

Joe Neal spoke uncommon truth to power and reminded anyone willing to listen that Nevada was capable of being a better place to live.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. Contact him at 702 383-0295, or jsmith@reviewjournal.com. Follow @jlnevadasmith on Twitter.