His influence has waned, but the predatory instincts that made him widely reviled are as sharp as ever. He flashes back to when he was king of Arizona's conservative political jungle. And he's not shy about admitting his final wish is to get even with his political enemies and to go out on top.Īrpaio is like a predator in a cage that’s way too small. He’s not riding into the sunset just yet. They all paint the same picture, with many of the same hallmarks: money, power, patronage, revenge, cult of personality, hero worship, blind loyalty, fearmongering, and looseness with the facts. If successful, his last political gig will likely resemble his longest, if Arpaio and more than two dozen people who know him well are to be believed. His last, desperate chance to regain power. This small-town election is Arpaio's Alamo. On Tuesday, Fountain Hills voters will cast their ballots for or against the polarizing former Maricopa County bigwig.
“Donald Trump stole that from me when I talked to him about it on a plane,” Arpaio told New Times in one of several hours-long interviews between early February and late July. Then it was time for Sinatra’s "My Way," Arpaio’s favorite song.
The two have bragged about sharing a birthday with each other and Flag Day, June 14.Īs festivities wound down, Arpaio made a point to tell everyone about the letter at his birthday party while Frank Sinatra crooned over the loudspeaker. Trump in dark ink.Īrpaio picked up the phone to wish Trump the same. The typed letter is signed President Donald J. “On behalf of the citizens of Maricopa County, you are a true legend,” he read in a near-whisper. So does the author of the letter, which Arpaio read quietly during a recent interview, seated at the stately desk inside his campaign office on Palisades Boulevard. He used a mahogany-handled paper knife to get to the prize inside.Īrpaio and his supporters still refer to him as Sheriff Joe, six years after voters threw him out of office. Four days before the party, he had already opened the only gift that really mattered to him, a letter mailed from West Palm Beach, Florida. None shared personal anecdotes or reflections, as friends would at any other b-day bash.īut Arpaio didn't really care about that. None of that money appeared on Arpaio's most recent campaign finance reports.Īnd yet, every speaker, from Congressional candidate Mark DeLuzio to state senate firebrand Wendy Rogers, was a Republican politician who spoke exclusively and glowingly about Arpaio's mayoral bid.