WASHINGTON — In a world that can feel isolating and even soul-crushing, members of Congress tend to rely heavily on their chiefs of staff, forming close bonds of mutual respect and trust.
Few of these partnerships, however, are likely to have evolved in quite the same way as the one between U.S. Sen. Tim Scott and Jennifer DeCasper.
The South Carolina Republican and the 38-year-old former prosecutor who runs his office have, over the past 6½ years, developed a collaborative professional relationship and deep personal friendship through highs and lows in Washington and at home.
The unique nature of their partnership might be matched only by the unique circumstances of their introduction.
“If you ask the senator how we ended up together, he will tell you it was divine,” DeCasper said. “Neither of us knew anything about the other. I had a terrible interview. I knew nothing about the South. I should not have been hired. And yet I was still hired.”
“It was a God thing, honestly,” Scott, a devout evangelical Christian, agreed. “I knew the Lord had a plan.”
In separate interviews with The Post and Courier, DeCasper and Scott each described how the two got together, work together and find meaning in their jobs and in their lives.
'A holy hunch'
A Colorado native, DeCasper worked in scheduling for her home-state U.S. senator, Republican Wayne Allard, establishing her credentials on Capitol Hill before decamping in 2002 for law school. She took a position as a prosecutor, and her career was on the rise.
But by late 2008, DeCasper, a single mother of a 2-year-old daughter, felt compelled to quit her job, pack her bags and move back to Washington, D.C. She didn't have a plan, just a sense that it was where she was meant to be.
Desperate for any job in one of the worst economies in decades, she got hired at Dulles International Airport, more than 30 miles from Capitol Hill. Wearing a fluorescent vest and wielding glow sticks, she directed airplanes and moved luggage on the tarmac.
By the end of 2010, Scott had just won a U.S. House seat and was putting together his staff. Somehow, DeCasper’s resume ended up in his pile and she was called in to interview, first with the incoming chief of staff and then with the congressman-elect.
“It was the worst interview I’d ever had in in my life,” she said of her initial meeting with Scott. “I ended up crying in the interview because he touched a heartstring. … I just stopped the interview completely. He asked, ‘Do you want to talk about why you’re crying?’ And I said, ‘No, I just want to be done. Just want to be done with this interview.’”
“She imploded,” Scott agreed without hesitation.
But to DeCasper’s shock, he gave her the job anyway. She didn’t ask “why” right away, and he didn’t volunteer an answer.
Scott admits they “didn’t necessarily jibe well” in the beginning. He was impatient to get bills passed and she was “way too detail-oriented for me.” Yet over time they grew close and DeCasper rose through the ranks, first becoming deputy chief of staff and then, as Scott prepared to move to the Senate in 2013, the most senior member of the team.
When DeCasper finally broached the subject, Scott confirmed it had nothing to do with her resume, education or skill set.
“I was praying for someone who had a sharp mind but a sensitive heart,” Scott said. “Ultimately, I’m more on the 'feeling' side. I wanted someone who was more on the 'thinking' side, who could bring an equilibrium to the team. But I also wanted someone who could feel the pain of others, which is very important to me. Most of the things I work on have to do with the pain people are going through.
“I think there is a God, and he gives you holy hunches,” he said. “I had a holy hunch. Something just felt right about her, even though she imploded. But the implosion is why she got the job. Seriously. It was that connection to the heart.”
It was affirming for DeCasper.
“It confirms what I thought. I wasn’t just a silly kid making a stupid decision. I really felt led to make that decision to come out here, and it was so our paths could cross.”
'The yin and the yang'
For two people who believe they were brought together by a higher power, DeCasper said she and Scott often talk about their “purposes” in relation to their careers and to each other.
Scott, who has described his work in the Senate as a “calling” to help heal a divided country, said DeCasper enabled him to do this. “From the work perspective, I’m the visionary and she’s the detail-oriented person,” he said. “The yin and the yang."
“My purpose for Tim, specifically, is I feel like I was sent here to protect him, if that sounds crazy,” DeCasper said. “To make sure his path is straight and clear.
“I know Tim up and down, in and out,” she said. “I know what’s good for him, I know what’s bad for him. I know what he hates, I know what he loves. I can see something coming and I know how to prepare for it or against it."
“Protecting” the boss is part of the job of any chief of staff, but DeCasper might be particularly attuned to Scott’s needs. He is the only black Republican in the U.S. Senate and, until recently, DeCasper was the only African-American chief of staff in the Senate.
Scott’s status as a self-described “unicorn” in an overwhelmingly white party — and representing a state with a fraught racial legacy — presents challenges DeCasper said are difficult to appreciate from the outside looking in. When he votes with Republicans, Democrat-aligned voters call him a traitor, an “Uncle Tom.” During some of the most controversial debates, Scott’s office has had to disconnect the phone lines due to inundations of calls characterized, Scott said, by variations on the sentiment “N-word, know your place.”
“All of my staffers in this office learn very quickly crisis management. They learn how to deal with nasty people. They learn how to strategize in a way that your average white member or average black member doesn’t have to strategize,” DeCasper said. “We have to look at things through a number of lenses no other member of Congress has to look through, and we have to make sure we do the right thing that’s good for our community, our state, through the lens of Tim Scott. And that’s hard if you’ve never had to do that.”
“I think she understands the misery in a shared fashion,” Scott said. “Being a black Republican can be a misery at times because of the incoming fire you have on a constant basis. I think, probably she more than others, is able to personalize it, to bear part of that burden, which is helpful for me.”
U.S. Rep. Trey Gowdy, a Spartanburg Republican who is Scott's closest friend in Congress, has seen Scott and DeCasper in action.
"(They) are perfect and complementary for one another and the betterment of our state and country," he said. "Each has unique talents and gifts and South Carolina is well-served by their partnership.”
When DeCasper applied for her job back in 2008, she said Scott was unimpressed with her resume because she had only worked in political offices — Allard and an elected district attorney. She joked she appreciated how Gowdy, also a former prosecutor, has since showed Scott the error of his ways.
'Someone who has your back'
Behind the scenes, DeCasper has experienced alongside Scott the elation of legislative victories and the frustrations of the molasses-slow legislative process, tragedies at home and the reality that racism doesn’t go away, even for members of Congress.
She described as her greatest satisfaction seeing Scott’s “Opportunity Agenda” get down on paper after years of working to make the package of bills relating to poverty and education “the heart and soul of this office.”
DeCasper helped him with his “undercover missions” around the state to have frank conversations with South Carolina voters. He’s posed as a Goodwill volunteer, a barista and a guy just riding the public bus.
She recalled with pride the fact she was the one who had Scott visit the insides of South Carolina prisons to truly understand the human toll of the criminal justice system.
When asked to identify how DeCasper has helped him the most, Scott replied, “You mean, every day?”
He paused to think further. Out popped the Charleston church shooting and the death of North Charleston motorist Walter Scott.
“Going through Mother Emanuel with Jennifer was so helpful and necessary. … The Walter Scott incident was another one,” he said. “We’ve experienced the mountaintops together, and when I say 'mountaintop' I mean it in the most excruciating way.
“There’s the burden-sharing, and everything she does that makes my job easier,” Scott said. “And daily, she’s one of my best friends. Someone who has your back, and not just because you’re paid to.”