An S.O.B. with Elbows

Lyndon Johnson once called him "an s.o.b. with elbows." Explains the recipient of that odd encomium, Texas-born Charlie Walker: "Down where we come from, that's a term of endearment." In fact, just about everybody in Washington likes the breezy, boisterous superlobbyist, who represents the nation's biggest corporations, including General Motors Corp., Gulf Oil Corp. and the country's five largest airlines. Even Walker's opponents openly admire him. Says liberal Lawyer Max Kampelman: "He's always on the wrong side, but he's good for his clients. He delivers."

Walker combines the oldtime lobbying techniques of banter and booze with an ability to explain complex issues on the back of an envelope. Jerry Ford once wrote him: "You can explain economics so that even somebody's mother-in-law can understand it."

The remarkable series of notches on Walker's gun began four years ago with his work on the passage of a bill reorganizing seven railroads in the Northeast and Midwest. Since then, he has helped persuade Congress to increase the investment tax credit from 7% to 10% and to turn down a proposed boycott of trade with the Arabs. His philosophy, as stated to a friend: "My priorities are easy--I take what I can get."

This defender of American capitalism was born 54 years ago in Graham, Texas, 90 miles northwest of Fort Worth. His mother named him Charls Edward Walker, vainly hoping that the unusual spelling of his first name would keep him from being "Charlie." He went to the universities of Texas and Pennsylvania, where he earned his doctorate in economics. After working as a Federal Reserve Bank economist, he became an assistant to Treasury Secretary Robert Anderson in 1959. From 1961 to 1968, while the Democrats were in power, Walker served as executive vice president of the American Bankers Association. He moved back to the Treasury Department as the No. 2 man after Richard Nixon's inauguration.

Walker easily made friends in high places. James Schlesinger, whom he met in 1959 over a bottle of bourbon at the University of Virginia, asked him to be godfather to his son. Their two families now often have weekend barbecues with House Energy Committee Chairman Thomas ("Lud") Ashley. Walker attends Mardi Gras parties in the capital each year with Louisiana Congressman Joe Waggoner and frequently calls Senate Finance Committee Chairman Russell Long at home.

When Walker opened his consulting and lobbying firm in 1973, clients flocked to his plush offices near the White House. He does not act as sole lobbyist for any of them; instead, he concentrates on tax matters. Walker's prime concern now is a reduction in the capital gains tax to encourage new investment. Says he: "Inflation is simply a situation where too much money is chasing too few goods. So you produce more. How? More capital formation, more plant and equipment." He began preparing for the fight in 1975, when he became head of the Washington-based American Council for Capital Formation. Early this year, Walker and the council's staff decided to press for rolling back the maximum capital gains tax, now 49%, to the 1969 level of 25%. The first Congressman they recruited to the idea was Wisconsin Republican William Steiger, who sponsored the legislation. Walker, meanwhile, began buttonholing Congressmen in hallways, countering Treasury Department arguments against the cut and working out potential costs to the federal Treasury on a computer belonging to one of his clients, General Electric.

He later helped Democrat James Jones of Oklahoma put together a compromise version of Steiger's proposal, which the House Ways and Means Committee approved last week. It would cut the maximum capital gains tax to 35%.

Says Walker of lobbying: "There is always a pressure point somewhere, if you search hard enough. You've also got to be willing to window-dress. How can you be against 'truth in lending' or 'freedom of information'?"

For his efforts, Walker makes about $200,000 a year. He travels in a chauffeured black Cadillac, which he briefly exchanged during the 1973 energy crisis for a wine-red Buick, and frequents the fashionable Burning Tree Golf Club and Sans Souci Restaurant, where a salad of Bibb lettuce and anchovies is named in his honor. But he also cultivates a deceptively down-home cornpone image. He and Wife Harmolyn rarely go out at night. Most of their entertaining is casual, such as weekend barbecues--over mesquite wood from Texas. Walker has another specialty: fried catfish. Says he: "You get some Yankees out and don't tell them what it is, and they like it"--just a little window dressing to make the meal more palatable for everyone.

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