Michael Scionti is Tampa’s long-distance representative

Since his election, Michael Scionti has spent months serving in Afghanistan. But he keeps up on the home front.

By Alexandra Zayas, St. Pete Times Staff Writer

February 17, 2008

TAMPA -- A constituent, two lawyers and a legislator gathered in a West Tampa office to discuss state Rep. Michael Scionti's new bill.

But the man behind the desk wasn't Scionti. In fact, the District 58 lawmaker hasn't stepped foot in his office in half a year.

He's 7,740 miles away in a combat zone in Afghanistan, where temperatures have dropped to single digits and helicopters fly overhead, where Taliban militants hunt foreigners and sporadic gunfire erupts in the distance.

The Army Reserve captain took a break from this scene one January night -- about 7:30 his time -- and retreated to an Army recreation facility.

Back home, in that office on Himes Avenue, an assistant interrupted the meeting.

He's on the phone, she told them. "He doesn't know how long he'll have."

The 39-year-old Scionti pronounced SHAWN-tee may be only the second legislator in Florida history to be deployed during his term.

But the longer the war continues, the less rare his situation could become. In the past few years, 15 state representatives and senators nationwide have faced extended deployments of more than 139 days, adding military duties to legislative responsibilities.

Scionti, a freshman representative, is on his third deployment since his election in November 2006. His first came less than a week after his swearing in. His second in March 2007 made him miss the beginning of Florida's legislative session. The third started in October 2007 and will have lasted six months when he comes home Wednesday -- just two weeks before this year's session begins in Tallahassee.

When his first term ends in November, he will have been deployed for about one-third of that time. Scionti, a Democrat who represents parts of Hillsborough County, including West Tampa, Town 'N Country and Seminole Heights, is running for re-election this fall.

His constant challenge: making people feel that he's representing them, even though he's half a world away.

* * *

A blue star banner hangs in the window of Scionti's district office, signifying a soldier on active duty. A big, yellow ribbon drapes the door.

Inside, John Rodriguez holds meetings at Scionti's desk. The 45-year-old legislative assistant's duties reach far beyond those of his peers. He's the face of Michael Scionti.

Rodriguez has traveled to Tallahassee twice a month since Scionti left. He sits in on special sessions and committee meetings. He talks to constituents.

"That's the worst thing for a politician, to be conspicuously absent," Rodriguez said. "It's up to us to let people know, when we go to these events, why he's not there."

So he highlights the positives: Scionti was one of the first representatives this year to get all six of his bills filed. Scionti voted to allocate $1.7-million to local neighborhoods.

For his boss, Rodriguez prepares detailed, bulleted e-mails they call the Weekly Activity Report, or WAR. The representative checks his inbox at the end of the week and drafts a course of action for the following Monday.

This is how he runs things, with the help of Rodriguez and Rebekah Torres, a district assistant. In six months, Scionti has called them only a handful of times. In January, when he phoned Rodriguez at home, the line went dead mid conversation.

* * *

Rodriguez constantly walks a fine political line between being a substitute, yet still a staffer.

He could have sat with legislators at meetings but never did. And he could present bills for Scionti in Tallahassee, but never has. Instead, he lets other legislators speak for Scionti as he watches from the audience.

"I have to be careful that I don't give the appearance of overstepping," Rodriguez said.

Someone with legislative aspirations would get great experience from his situation. But Rodriguez, who studied political science at the University of Florida, says he's happiest behind the scenes. He worked for former District 58 Rep. Bob Henriquez, too.

Colleagues have remarked that Scionti made a wise decision in keeping the eight-year veteran assistant who is widely credited as part of his smooth transition.

* * *

This isn't the first time Scionti was torn away from home at an important time of his life.

His father, Mike Scionti, a schoolteacher who later led the Hillsborough Democratic Party, died of a massive heart attack in fall 2002. Scionti had little time to grieve before he was deployed to Iraq. He was among the first soldiers to fight through Baghdad.

"When I first came back," Scionti said, "I was pretty broken."

In e-mails to the Times from his most recent deployment, Scionti said morale was high on assignments with the North Atlantic Treaty Organization and other counterterrorism forces. (He can't go into details for his own safety.)

"I don't think I can escape the emotional and physical exhaustion associated with being deployed to a combat zone. No one really can."

He misses his wife, Zsuzsanna, who was born in Romania but served in the U.S. Army with him. They met in a camp near Baghdad. He proposed two months after he returned to Tampa in 2004, and they married three days later. They plan to vacation after the session on a quiet Caribbean island.

* * *

State Sen. Carey Baker, a Republican from Lake County who also serves in the National Guard, was deployed in 2003, when he was a state representative. His office could find no other legislator deployed before him in Florida history. He returned in February 2004, jumping almost immediately into the session. He doesn't think Scionti will have a problem doing the same.

"Everything's a vacation when you're back home in America," Baker said.

His company swept into Iraq when all the infrastructure was down. For the first four months, he stayed in a concrete bunker with no electricity, running water or latrines.

Meanwhile, other representatives helped out back home. Rep. Frank Attkisson traveled an hour from Osceola County to meet with Baker's constituents.

Both parties have supported Scionti as well. Republican Reps. Sandra Adams of Orlando and Kevin Ambler of Lutz have offered to present bills for him.

"I'm going to make sure to treat it like one of my own bills," said Ambler, who is also a major in the U.S. Air Force Reserve, but cannot be deployed because of injuries from a 2004 car crash.

* * *

Legislators can vote on Scionti's bills, but he can't cast votes while he's gone. Last year, he missed 61 of 586 recorded votes on the floor, including the property tax bill in special session that passed unanimously through the House and Senate.

The only vote that could have swung results was a bill to limit the number of young passengers in an underage driver's car. The committee votes tied last March, so the bill died. Had Scionti been there, he would have voted against the bill, Rodriguez said. So it still would have failed.

When Scionti returns, he plans to record how he would have voted on every bill he missed, so constituents know where he stands. He has served on both war fronts now, so he doesn't think he'll be redeployed for a while. Colleagues don't see his time away as ammunition for opponents in his upcoming run.

"It cannot be a negative campaign issue," Baker said. "If someone brought it up, it would work against them."

(So far, the only opponent to register is Jose Vazquez, a convicted felon doing two years in a Panama City prison.)

Scionti drew from his background in law enforcement, including work as a prosecutor, in drafting his first round of bills last year. The one signed into law redefined the term "law enforcement officer" for purposes of penalties for assault and battery.

Tommy Castellano, president of the West Tampa Chamber of Commerce, said he wants to meet with Scionti about the impact of the expansion of Interstate 275 on the neighborhood.

"We have some issues and questions, but they can wait until he returns," Castellano said. For now, he talks to Rodriguez, who attends meetings regularly. Castellano feels confident Scionti is getting his messages.

Another constituent, Dennis Gay, was walking to work downtown in 2005 when a state Department of Transportation vehicle struck him from behind, knocking him 27 feet and fracturing his skull.

He lost his job. Laws cap what citizens who sue the state can collect, so Scionti recently filed a bill to get Gay and his wife $700,000 in compensation. Gay and his attorneys set up an appointment with Rodriguez in January.

"Will try to call during your meeting with Dennis Gay," Scionti wrote in an e-mail from Kabul. "No promises. Things are pretty tense here."

The night before, Taliban attackers stormed into the city's nicest hotel with AK-47s, grenades and a suicide bomb, leaving six dead.

* * *

Rodriguez hit the button on the speaker phone.

"It's amazing how technology allows me to call back and coordinate with the group here," Scionti told them.

The group, including Gay, briefed him on the bill's status.

"I just want to let you know I appreciate what you're doing," Gay said, leaning toward the speaker. Stay safe, he told Scionti.

"The Army trains us well," the voice responded.

Scionti hung up and returned to work, in his other district.