In 2013, several state governments, at the behest of the Obama administration and against the protests of their electorates, passed sweeping citizen disarmament laws.  The impact of these laws varied from region to region, restricting magazine capacities to arbitrary limits, subjecting private transfers of firearms ownership to the de facto registration of background checks, and in some cases banning possession of entire classes of firearms altogether.  Charges varied from simple misdemeanors to felonies more suitable to acts of wanton violence.

Among the list of states targeted for this campaign was Colorado.  With a Western mystique and deeply entrenched culture of firearm ownership and use, it was the perfect poster child for acceptance of “reasonable” laws designed to reduce citizens’ access to guns and increase the legitimacy of government control over their ownership and use.  Despite days of protests and thousands of opposing citizens - including virtually every county sheriff in the state - literally filling the halls of the state capitol to overflowing, the laws were passed along party lines by the Democratic super majority.

This was a watershed moment.  There had been no mistake about the will of the people of this free state – it had simply been dismissed.  Before the bills had even been signed by the governor, a chorus of voices started repeating a word rarely heard outside of historical quotes or histrionic rallies:  “Tyranny.”  Soon, another word rose above the murmur.  Less dramatic and easily ignored, it carried just as much weight to those who understood it.

Recall.

In Colorado’s one hundred and thirty-seven year history, no sitting member of the state legislator had faced recall.  Yet only nine months after the gun laws were forced upon the citizenry of the state, not one but two senators had been removed from office for their part in embracing the overreach and, in the opening weeks of 2014, another resigned to avoid becoming the third.

While already historic, here is what makes the tale remarkable.  It would normally be presumed that established pro-rights groups would have led the charge or that savvy politicians would be the ones to defend their constituents, yet neither happened.  The recalls were the work of politically naïve citizens – strangers to each other prior to taking on the task – who dedicated themselves to pushing back against this encroachment of their rights. 

They didn’t know the risks or the rules, the players or the field.  They didn’t care.  All that mattered was answering what, to each one of them, was a call to duty in the service of freedom.  They sacrificed financial opportunities and once-in-a-lifetime family moments.  They dealt with betrayal by those they expect to be allies.  They worked on a shoestring budget, spending their personal reserves and some selling their guns to raise money for the fight.  They strained their health, their marriages, their businesses because they would not meekly sit back and “leave it to the pros” to attempt to reclaim their rights.

The efforts began in Durango, Colorado, with the formation of a 501(c)4 called “The Basic Freedom Defense Fund” or BFDF.  Founded by local businessman Timothy Knight, the group was formed with the intention of spawning independent “issue committees” throughout the state, each operating as an independent cell but under the corporate umbrella of the BFDF.  That effort proved to be more than the group of seven men could achieve, forcing them to narrow their focus to El Paso county where they would eventually bring about the recall of Senate President John Morse, the first such recall in the state’s history. 

Before scaling back, however, the BFDF succeeded in holding two meetings of potential recall leaders.  The first was held at the Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs where they met Victor Head of Pueblo.  He would take what he learned and form his own 501(c)4, “Pueblo Freedom and Rights,” which would eventually recall Senator Angela Giron mere hours after the defeat of Senator Morse.  The second meeting, held two weeks later in Wheat Ridge, was not as productive.  Tim Knight traveled north to share key strategic, organizational and legal advice with a group seeking to recall Senator Evie Hudak but they and the BFDF were unable establish a working relationship.  The group’s initial effort was suspended for lack of petition signatures and, when revived in 2014, suffered the bittersweet fate of having Hudak resign rather than face a potential recall election.

Both Tim Knight and Victor Head took the time to answer questions about their experiences, the ramifications of their actions and their plans for continued activism in the hopes of inspiring others to act in defense of their rights.  We will be posting those interviews over the next few days and hope you find them both interesting and inspirational. 


Starting a grassroots movement with as weighty a mission as recalling sitting legislators for the first time in a state's history was a huge undertaking.  It required not only a solid tactical ground game of knocking on doors and collecting signatures, but a great deal of strategic oversight and constant management of many moving parts, all while operating in completely unknown - and often hostile - territory.  Timothy Knight, president of the Basic Freedom Defense Fund and founder of the Colorado recall movement, shared his memories of events with us.

Tim’s level of political involvement was “nothing more than voting, really.”  He would occasionally write a letter or email to his legislators or attend an infrequent town hall.  But he held no passion for it and was content to remain uninvolved – until it intruded on his family life.

He and his family - his oncologist wife and their five-year-old son - moved to Colorado from South Carolina.  Having lived here before, they felt that the local, rural culture was ideally matched to their values and would provide a healthy environment for both raising their child and launching their fifty-person business producing brass for ammunition reloading.  Soon, however, Tim saw both being threatened.

"The state of Colorado was just about to become unfriendly to my beliefs and my Constitutional rights." said Knight. "It would also become a hostile business environment and, like Magpul, I wouldn't support what was working against me."

As debates began in the Colorado House, discussions began in Durango.  While purchasing a snow blower from a fellow local businessman and shooter, the topic of recall was raised.  They went to the nearest computer and began researching exactly what was required by Colorado statute to remove their local representative, Mike McLachlan.

Tim was already jaded with politics but was willing to give McLachlan the benefit of the doubt.  A Democrat in district that was primarily conservative and independent, McLachlan had campaigned heavily on a pro-Second Amendment platform and won with a narrow margin.  It was expected that he would fight these laws, choosing to side with his constituency rather than to cave to external political pressures. Finding McLachlan's mobile number, Knight left a voicemail introducing himself, outlining his expectations and advising him that he would be facing a recall if he betrayed his campaign promises.

The warning fell on deaf ears and McLachlan voted to pass the raft of gun control bills pushed by Obama administration and New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg.

Tim felt personally betrayed by his representative and the “purveyors of broken promises” in Denver.  Worse, with his remote location and comparatively lengthy response time from the nearest law enforcement, he felt that these laws were jeopardizing his family’s safety and security.  He and his wife discussed the matter and agreed that the business would have to wait - Tim was committing to forcing Colorado's first recalls.

Thinking he had both the time and the financial ability to commit himself to dissuading them from pushing these bills into law, he began looking into the recall process.  As the bills progressed to the Senate and media reported “atrocious comments” made by Senators Morse and Hudak, “I went from mad to pissed.  I was going to donate all my time and money to this.  All in.”

“I thought we’d give them pause,” said Knight. “I thought we’d make them stop and reconsider pushing the laws if they saw there wasn’t just the unprecedented resistance at the capitol building but also people willing to take it further, legally. I wanted to believe we’d succeed but really thought it would be more symbolic, leading to soul searching among the legislature.  I didn’t know how far we’d be able to take it but I knew we’d do something.”

His first task was forming an effective unit.  "I needed to separate the wheat from the chaff of the core group after the first few calls and then work to build a team. I've always had better luck than most at building like that and working with others. I am okay being a chief or brave as long as the leaders are listening and I was lucky enough to find fellow citizens who were like me in that regard.  We ended up with seven guys who did not know each other before but who beat two billionaires and their political agendas, overcame the constant obstacles thrown by two major political parties, dealt with eight court challenges and delivered a message that resonated so deeply that even former President Clinton's robo-calls couldn't save John Morse.  I'd call that superlative."

When asked to describe the entire experience, Knight chuckled, “What’s a word beyond ‘epic?’  I completely underestimated how all-encompassing and overwhelming it would be.  I didn’t even process it as it was happening – I was too busy just trying to keep up.  There was no going back once it started.”

With his management team in place and the ground game delegated to an appointed issue committee leader, Tim focused primarily on strategic goals, taking point on "all things external" while the signature gathering began.

"I picked up the nickname 'godfather of the recalls' because I'd be incommunicado for a few days, then suddenly we'd have a new resource or a solved problem.  It was nice to pretend that I had this mysterious influence but the truth is that I was just constantly hustling all over the state.  It was almost impossible to do things by phone and I lived six hours away from Denver.  I had no choice but to go to where help might be found, look people in the eye, shake hands, explain things face to face.  My guys saw a solution appear but never had insight into how many asks it took to get it, how many people wouldn't talk to me at all or wouldn't follow through on the commitments they made to help.  It wasn't that I was being secretive, I just didn't have time to explain because I was already booking the next flight."

Knight ran down every potential lead.  "I was always traveling.  I met with politicians, perspective allies, law firms, consulting firms, Republican party leadership, Denver and Colorado Springs media," he fired off. "Pretty much anyone that might be willing to join the fight.  I even put my foot in the door of events that claimed to support our cause despite not contributing to it.  I wasn't invited, mind you.  I literally paid out-of-pocket to be a VIP so I could get access to the people in the room."

“I’m not one to give up,” Knight continued. “I don't know how to fail.  I’m dyslexic and spent my childhood being told all the things I ‘couldn’t’ do or ‘wouldn’t be able’ to achieve.  I couldn't read in the fourth grade and was told I wouldn't amount to much because of it.  Every time I heard that growing up, it made me try even harder just to prove them wrong, to push on, always adapting, finding a way to get what I needed done.  I can’t do that?  Really?  Let me show you.  You can’t fight city hall or recall an out-of-control legislator?  Really?  Let’s see about that.  I've got a quote on my desk, a Japanese proverb: 'Fall seven times, stand up eight.'  That's me.”

That drive and passion took its toll on Tim, however.  "Flying and driving all over the state many, many, many times and working sometimes twenty hours a day for several days did some damage," he admitted. "Several hospitalizations, two protracted kidneys stones, IV for severe dehydration, beginnings of kidney failure." 

The pain and damage eventually led to his post-victory hospitalization for nearly a month but it wasn't only his physical health that suffered. "I spent nine months almost totally detached from my family.  Family vacations were spent entirely on the phone, some trips were cancelled altogether.  I resigned from my position as a District Commissioner for the Boy Scouts of America.  It was unit service for seven hundred boys and two hundred and fifty adults. But I couldn't do the job and take care of the recalls, so I needed to leave it for someone else."

There was also the financial and legal aspect.  "I spent a considerable amount of my personal reserves supporting our recall against Morse and later funding a good portion of the legal defense for both our recall and the one in Pueblo.  We had offered a joint defense agreement to bring both recalls onto our already prepared legal strategy rather than make the Pueblo guys reinvent a very complex and complicated wheel.  We were dealing with voter rights issues, pushing back against new laws that all but legalized voter fraud, arguing over absentee ballot procedures and third party involvement in the election.  We even had to fight a legal challenge over the validity of the petition forms, which were being used by all the recall efforts at that point.  It was almost funny since those forms were supplied and approved by the state itself.  But we still had to pay our lawyers to show up and argue, regardless of how silly it was, because if we didn't, all signatures gathered for all recalls could have been declared invalid.  The whole thing could have collapsed right there."

Still, this seems negligible to Knight.  To him, it was all about civic duty.

“People need to go beyond their comfort level,” Tim noted. “What we did has the potential to change the way politics work in this country if people are willing to stand up and fight, to go beyond what they even think is possible, to put everything on hold if they have to.  When I saw John Morse on national television, acknowledging that he would almost certainly face a recall election, I realized what we had the potential to achieve.  That we could be doing something that would inspire people well beyond the borders of our state.”

“We all learned that you need to put something in for this republic to work,” he said of his BFDF cohorts. “We achieved what we were told was ‘impossible’ and we did it with about three hundred people statewide.  Can you imagine what we could do with a thousand people?”

That “three hundred people” included the grassroots volunteers that made up the El Paso Freedom Defense Fund, the 527 issue committee set up by Knight’s BFDF to run the ground game in the Morse recall.  However, it did not include some notable groups, a source of disappointment and regret for Tim.

“Neither the state Republican party nor the leadership of Rocky Mountain Gun Owners believed in us or supported our efforts,” Knight recalled. “They made both private and public statements disparaging the recall movement.  We were already a completely unknown quantity, leaving a lot of people leery of supporting us.  Having ‘names’ turn a cold shoulder to us reinforced that isolation and made our organizational infancy all that more difficult.”

Discussions with another potential source of support, the National Rifle Association, were also limited at the outset of the movement.  “We were political novices and didn’t really understand the ‘rules’ when it came to communication and coordination,” Tim said.  “And being novices made us dangerous to allies because of the legal or public relations missteps we might make."

Any help was welcome but, initially, the NRA committed to little more than alerting their membership to upcoming town hall meetings.  Sensing some hesitancy and knowing what a public loss could do the reputation of the oft-embattled civil rights group, Knight didn’t press for more. "We knew this would be an uphill fight and we were already getting pushback and undercutting from folks we had expected to support us.  The last thing I wanted was for us to go down in flames and take the NRA with us.  I was grateful to get their initial fliers out to the local membership but I told their grassroots coordinator, 'Let us earn this.  Let Colorado show that it really wants to fight.  If we can do that, we'll take whatever you can give us.'  The whole time we struggled, I wondered if I'd made a mistake and alienated them but I stayed in frequent touch to keep them informed of our progress.  After our signatures were certified and the election date was set, they were able to help on their own terms and proved to be a valuable ally.” 

Tim specifically made note of “NRA News” personalities Ginny Simone, who produced a video segment highlighting the recall efforts, and Cam Edwards, who kept the movement relevant to NRA members. 

“We were really bad with the media,” Tim admitted. “We didn’t prepare for them, didn’t understand them and didn’t expect the sheer vitriol.  It was very disappointing."

"I am not a public person," he continued. "I am both genetically predisposed and familial trained to stay out of the public eye. So shifting from a hidden private person to a public one unsure of himself presented major issues. Initially, I was too cautious with my identity – we all were – because I didn’t want it to be about me.  It was about the cause.  But the folks at NRA News stuck their necks out for us and gave us an outlet that we were comfortable using.”

Knight also describes another source of disappointment – citizen apathy. 

“I didn’t expect that we’d have to be a proxy for so many people.  I kept expecting scores of like-minded people to come forward.  They didn’t.  It was quantity versus quality.  Some people donated every paycheck and actually flew out to Colorado to help collect signatures.  But so many people in the state just wouldn’t get off the couch.  They’d email a ‘Go get ‘em’ and tell us all the things they thought we ‘should’ be doing but when you asked them to show up and physically help… crickets.  I think that was the one thing that truly frightened me.  That we might lose, not because of trickery or lack of resources but simply because not enough people cared enough to just get off the couch, even if it meant their liberty.  We all have complicated and busy lives but this is our Republic.  You must reach beyond and pull a second shift for the sake liberty.”

Despite the sheer volume of effort required, victory was achieved.  But when asked about his reaction to that victory, Tim said it “still hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“I’m still in awe.  And still looking for the next issue to address. I mean, we all cheered but it was so epic – I guess that’s my word of the day – and there were always so many fires to put out while it was going on that it still hasn’t sunk in that it’s over.”  Pressed further for his lessons learned, he said, “On the plus side, I can say that I learned to appreciate Cincinnatus and George Washington a lot more – you can give to the Republic, do your duty and then go back home.  And then,” he laughed, “get called up again.”

Knight is now planning on running for the NRA's Board of Directors in 2015, having gotten his nomination by - once again - taking the more difficult grassroots means of collecting member signatures rather than being named by the Board's nominating committee.  “I want to take the passion from the recall and export it to citizens around the country.  My new mission is to show other people that there is always an option and that regular people can and must make a difference.  Since our victory, there have been groups in other states reaching out to us, asking how they can push back in their homes.  I want to help the NRA figure out how best to connect with those people, to feed their energy and help them direct it.  We can’t just remain passive and on the defense.  People want to fight for their rights.  We need to help them.”

His advice for such citizens?

"If I could give you my top five takeaways, they'd be these.  First off, remember that citizens can make a difference, we have just been convinced that we can't.  Second, learn the meaning of 'OPSEC' - keeping your plans secret is perhaps the greatest advantage and that must be maintained.  Third, don't expect allies.  You have to earn them and they won't always match your preconceptions.  Fourth, really understand the stakes.  Legislative and executive tyranny are becoming expected and that jaded apathy will only let it worsen.  If we don't challenge it we are all in trouble.  And finally, the 'front' for liberty is not on some far away soil.  It's here, in every state, in every community.  You're on it right now."

Asked for any closing thoughts, Knight only added, “Knowing that citizens can still make a difference still has me floored.  I’m still in awe.  And I’ll say it again.  Three hundred everyday people – not ‘the pros’ but people with families and with jobs and with no political experience - may have changed the whole narrative on a national scale.  Just imagine what a thousand could do.”

[Editor's note: Representative Mike McLachlan was voted out of office by the citizens of Colorado House District 59 during the November 2014 elections.]


Like Tim Knight, Victor Head describes his political involvement as minimal, considering himself "informed” but not being active in the process beyond voting.  Also like Knight, this changed dramatically when proposed legislation threatened to intrude on his family and their traditions.

A Colorado native, guns were a large part of Head's life and his family culture.  Recreational shooting was a shared past time and he, his mother and his brother frequently traded guns with other relations and friends.  The Obama administration's call for more gun control in the wake of the horrific murders in Newtown, Connecticut, were a point of discussion but not concern - at first.  However, Victor soon heard rumors of bills being prepared in Colorado's Assembly and he began to pay closer attention.

What he learned smacked of intrusive legislative overreach, directly affecting - and in some cases illegalizing - his family's lifestyle and interactions.  Bans on possession of magazines exceeding a frequently-shifting limit and so poorly worded that many common, tube-fed hunting shotguns would be banned.  Mandatory background checks on "transfers of possession" initially so loosely defined as to encompass even handing a pistol to someone in the course of instruction.  Prohibitions against adults with concealed-carry permits doing so on college campuses, directly putting his brother at risk while attending classes at community college.  Seemingly random exemptions were added and removed to try to quell a spreading sea of public opposition.

Seeing the potential impact to his family and their way of life, he decided to educate himself.

"I was so removed from the idea of politics, I didn't even realize that one party controlled the entire state government," Head reflected. "So I really started from scratch.  I found who my representatives were and tried to reach out to them to talk about the bills being floated."

He tried the direct approach first. "I called to ask my representative what her position was but phone calls were almost worthless.  I couldn't get hold of her directly and her staff blew off the questions.  The boilerplate answer was always, 'We can't answer questions on pending legislation.  Call again after it reaches us.'  Email was no better.  Everything just got a form letter reply."

Based on public comments and the response of staffers, Victor could see that a party line vote was coming but also recognized that Democrats pushing disarmament only held a five-seat advantage in the Senate.  He thought that he might be able to sway his senator, Angela Giron, if he could explain the problems with the bills' approach but found it impossible to arrange any sort of personal meeting.

It was then that Victor became "an accidental leader."

"I still didn't really know how the system worked so I did the logical thing and asked folks around me if they had any experience with it.  The more people I spoke with, the more they said, 'No but I never thought about trying.  Can I come with you?'  I ended up organizing people to show up for her Town Hall meetings just to get her to discuss the issues."

It was during this frustrating period of being stonewalled, ignored or dismissed by his elected representatives that Victor came across a thread posted to an internet gun board.  A meeting was being held at The Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs.  Run by a new group calling itself the "Basic Freedom Defense Fund," the meeting was being held to discuss the idea of recalls and to share strategic and logistical advice for the formation of issue committees.

Continuing his logical, problem-solving approach, Victor decided that, if his elected representatives would not listen to their constituency, perhaps they didn't deserve the privilege of office.  Angela Giron would face recall.

"I never really thought about what we might accomplish or analyzed the potential difficulty.  Accomplishment was less important than trying.  There was no downside since they were going to do what they wanted anyway."  Head knew the odds were against success but saw it as a patriotic duty.  "We had massive government intrusion into our personal business.  They were telling us what we could do with our personal, privately owned property. For that matter, by saying we could not pass down a rifle magazine to our children, it was a means of confiscating private property.  What would we tell our kids that we did to at least try to stop it?  I felt that I had a personal responsibility to do something."

Victor wasn't alone in this feeling.  His family, a large source of his motivation, stood by him and supported the effort however they could.  Knowing the incredible amount of time that would be required to run their ground game, Victor's brother took over their plumbing business leading them to joke that "we're a Communist business now - one of us works but we both get paid."  The initial $4,000 required for their initial legal costs came in the form of a loan from Victor's grandmother and his mother single-handedly collected nearly ten percent of all petition signatures gathered.  Far from being the large, well-oiled political machine legislators were used to facing, this recall was the epitome of a grassroots effort. 

It was a family affair that soon became a community cause, with support coming in from local volunteers, Coloradans from across the state, and out-of-staters who read about the fight online and were inspired to help.  Many gun-owning union members defied their leadership, supporting the recall against pro-union Democrat Giron.  Likewise, local Republican party members and officials bucked the initially cold reception from state-level party officials and assisted wherever possible to help Head's group navigate the procedural mazes and roadblocks.  Momentum was picking up.

One particular point of frustration was hindrance from the state Republicans and the pro-gun Rocky Mountain Gun Owners.  "They eventually came around and I don't hold any grudges," said Head, "but fund raising was definitely impacted by their public message of 'we don't support recalls.'  New York's mayor Bloomberg throwing his money around certainly didn't make things easy on us either," he laughed, "but it generated such a backlash that it almost helped in the end."

It's easier to laugh now that victory has been achieved but while Head declares that "it was almost fun at times", he also doesn't pull any punches about the difficulties he endured.

"If someone were to decide to do this elsewhere, I would tell them that they'd need to quit everything they're doing and would have to focus on the recall only. You can't have a job, go out on the weekends, or do anything but run that recall for however long it takes. Not if you're going to be successful anyway." He cautioned further, "They would need to expect personal attacks like I got, possible retribution in their job like I got, and just generally really nasty people coming after you. I also had physical damage to my property and even my pets."

"They'd need to have their emotions in check," he continued. "You will be angry sometimes, depressed other times, and downright having a blast occasionally. The key is to keep all of those emotions in check and not act irrationally on them in the heat of the moment."

Victor also stressed the importance of mindset in the face of challenges. "I consider myself pretty headstrong so nothing was ever so 'challenging' that it surprised me or caught me off guard. Something would pop up, like the 'surprise start' of early voting. We had to organize poll watchers and judges in forty-eight hours. No big deal - deal with it and get the work done. I think that type of mentality is key.  Stay calm, stay focused, don't let things get disorganized."

As far as personal costs, "Monetarily, I put a decent amount in, but there were lots of donors that stepped up so it wasn't a huge burden. However it did cost me some strain on family and personal relationships. I was lucky to still have a girlfriend after it was all over. It's just such a consuming task that takes almost every ounce of you to complete. But it was all worth it in the end of course."

That "end" saw the recall of Angela Giron, making it the second such recall in state history by a matter of mere hours.

"I was on the phone with a member of the Republican leadership and was being prepped to lose.  It just wasn't considered a tenable effort, recalling a Democratic senator in a Democratic district.  They couldn't understand that it wasn't about party, it was about our local culture.  There are a lot of blue-collar Democrats in Pueblo that love their guns and their freedom.  But," he laughed, "I still didn't really understand the way these things worked and didn't realize that our win was a given with only twenty-five percent of precincts reporting!  I read off the numbers, feeling glum, and the guy I was talking to was like, 'Wait - what?  Read that back to me.'  Suddenly, I had to come up with a victory speech on the fly.  I don't think I've ever fully processed it though I get that 'celebration feeling' when I drive past old billboards or see some news article about it."

Thinking about what that win accomplished, Head has mixed feelings.

"My first thought was, 'Great!' and we thought the politicians would understand what this was all about, that it wasn't a gun thing but that they grabbed too much.  But a month into the new year, they just seemed to be angry and vindictive.  They backed off of guns so far but everything else seems to be open season.  It's almost like they expect they’re going to lose in 2014 so they want to jam everything through that they can." 

"Ironically," he mused, "we seem to have achieved more on a national level than in the state.  During the last weeks of the recalls, we had a news crew from Miami come out and want to go to the range with us. We even started getting calls from international media outlets - a Japanese newspaper, a British reporter.  It dawned on us that people well outside of Colorado were watching this.  Now, social media and email messages keep coming in, talking about us being inspirational, saying they're thinking about recalls in other states and asking what advice we can give. "

That advice comes down to the basics of organizing and leadership.

He ticked off his main logistical points. "You have to dedicate yourself fully to the effort. Put jobs, people, plans, vacations, hobbies, all of it aside. Do your research before you begin, don't just jump in headfirst. Get a good lawyer, study up on election and campaign finance laws. Create your own news, try to be pro-active in media instead of reactive. You should be calling the reporters to tell them about a new development, not the other way around. Control the narrative of your issue as much as you can."

"Next," he added, "is to treat your volunteers well but keep them in line. Have a clear leader and make sure they respect him or her and understand who calls the shots. Avoid 'too many chiefs, not enough braves' syndrome. Not every decision has to be put to a vote of the 'main guys'.  You need to be able to make executive decisions and roll with it. And don't be afraid to turn away a 'problem' volunteer. Just because the help is free, doesn't mean it's good help. One stupid comment from a mouthy person on your side can create a media nightmare."

Returning to his earlier point about keeping emotions in check, Head said, "You need to have some balance, too.  Don't treat your campaign or issue like the world depends on it. Take things seriously and absolutely do the best you can, but realize that the world will continue if you don't succeed. It is not worth going to jail, getting in fights, or anything like that over it. If you keep that mindset, you'll sleep much better at night and the other side won't be able to rattle you."

His only regrets about the experience are practical. "It's hard to say 'I wish I'd done x, y and z differently when you won.  If I had to come up with something, though, I'd say having a better handle on logistics.  You don't know what you don't know but, in hindsight, I wish we'd thought to print the petitions earlier, been a little better organized had a better librarian system – but I have no regrets about winning."

Beyond just lacking regret, Victor has come away with a lot of positive experiences and memories.  The greatest for him was simply the camaraderie.

"I've always been sort of a loner, mostly because I don't really like playing 'social games.'  If you have something to say, say it.  Be honest.  And fighting for this recall attracted a lot of the same personalities to the cause.  I've now made lifelong friends of people with like minds.  They weren't politically active either or have any ambitions for higher office.  They just wanted to make things better, protect our Colorado culture and get on with their lives.  We know we share the same values and will be there to back each other up, whatever else comes our way."

Head ran for Pueblo county clerk under the Republican banner this election cycle, in no small part because of the negative experiences he had during the recall process.  "The worst experience of the entire time was with the election process itself.  This hadn't been done before and both sides were sort of winging it at times.  There weren't any violations of law per se but a lot of this had been on the books for a century without ever having been tried or tested.  There was a lot of discretion and power in the hands of the clerk and this led to what felt like a lot of procedural power games.  Some requirements were 'discovered' though they'd never come up before; documents weren't delivered until the last second, causing us to flail to meet our own deadlines; a lot of little roadblocks and tie-ups kept appearing.  People shouldn't have to deal with that just because they're trying to have a say in their government."

Despite having failed to win the seat in the Democrat stronghold of Pueblo, Victor still sees his effort as a success. "Traditionally, a Republican running in this town loses by ten percent or more.  That was the case with George Rivera," referring to the Republican senator elected to replace the recalled Democrat, Giron.  "I narrowed that gap to just about four percent. A little more than a thousand voters separated me from winning. That is something to be proud of."

Head says his future plans will focus on local Pueblo politics, and to "potentially get involved in getting term limits put in for all elected officials, whether it be by legislation, petition, or constitutional amendment."  He also remains undaunted in his efforts to push back against legislative overreach.

"My race was just one more battle against big government. We came up short in that battle, but we'll continue to fight the war."



Contrary to the belief - or desire - of many, what happened in Colorado in 2013 had nothing to do with political parties and everything to do with personal liberty.  A small group of very average Coloradans, led by the men interviewed above, reminded their legislators that Americans are citizens rather than subjects, and insisted on being treated as such.

It remains to be seen if the lesson of their actions has been learned by our nation's politicians - or its populace.  We at Descendants of Liberty Press certainly hope it has.