Gib Armstrong is booked.

The veteran state senator, clicking through his BlackBerry, rattles off a list of appointments: one with Gov. Ed Rendell, another with Attorney General Tom Corbett, still others with Transportation Secretary Allen Biehler and prominent York County businessman Louis Appell.

    AUDIO SLIDESHOW: Sen. Armstrong's life in politics

Oh, yeah. There's more.

The man does not slow down.

In fact, the only indication that the 65-year-old Republican is retiring in less than a week, after more than three decades in the Legislature, is the appearance of his North Christian Street office.

It's a bit of a mess.

Manila folders lie strewn across a small couch. Framed photographs snapped by the father of longtime staffer Bob Thompson — of landmarks across the 13th District such as Hans Herr House and Willow Valley — have been pulled from the walls. Paperwork is scattered across his desk.

 "We're trying to get through some things around here," the lawmaker said.

Gibson E. Armstrong is in transition.

On Wednesday, his final day in office, he will go from one of the county's most prominent and influential political figures whose legacy will be that of tireless champion for the city to being a private citizen for the first time in 32 years.

And he is clearly at peace.

"I've always told my children to find a job you love, and you'll never have to work another day in your life. And this has been a job in which it's not been work; it's been very, very enjoyable," Armstrong said.

"But it was just the time, you know? There is a time and a season for everything and it was the time for me to step down and let some new blood in," he said.

Republican Lloyd Smucker, of West Lampeter Township, will succeed Armstrong in the 13th Senate District, which covers Lancaster and much of the southern part of the county, after taking the oath of office on Jan. 6.

In a candid, hourlong interview in his office this week, Armstrong was by turns humble, passionate, emotional and occasionally regretful as he reflected on his career in both the House and Senate since 1976.

He spoke of his retirement plans, which include traveling the world with his wife Marti, earning his pilot's license and, believe it or not, restoring and flying a 1939 biplane.

He said he had originally intended to retire four years ago, in 2004, and talked about the one reason he decided to seek re-election.

He had plenty of advice for his successor.

And he teared up when he spoke of the man who inspired him into first running for office in 1976, even though he had no political aspirations at the time and hadn't a clue what a committee person was, or did.

Most of all, in this question-and-answer session, Armstrong seemed on good terms with his decision to retire.


First doubts


"In the last, oh, I'm talking about a year ago, it got to be to the point where it was work. You start asking questions about the drive up to Harrisburg every day, which I never thought about," Armstrong said.

"And I have my children, and my grandchildren. Marti and I — we both have our health. We've seen some things happen to some of our friends who are our age. And we said, 'You know what? You never know.' We're fortunate to have lived this long," Armstrong said.

Armstrong said the job of state senator has gotten more intense since he succeeded Sen. Richard Snyder in 1985, and that he originally planned to retire before now.

"I thought very seriously about it four, five years ago. Before the last election I was very serious about not running," he said.

"I was not going to run again but then the convention center kind of fell apart, imploded, and I said, 'Well, I'll stick around for one more term to see if I can resurrect it.' And it was successful," Armstrong said. "That's the one thing that I felt was worth sticking around for."


What now?


In retirement, Armstrong plans to travel to Ecuador to visit family, tour the Galapagos Islands and perhaps revisit friends in Japan, Korea and Russia.

He also plans to keep working on his home, Seven Springs Farm south of Willow Street, which he has been slowly renovating since 1972. He has already torn the slate roof off and replaced it, restored the fireplace and installed new windows.

And he hopes to earn his pilot's license and finish work on the 70-year-old biplane he wants to get off the ground in the springtime.

"Right now it's all over the place," Armstrong said. "The fuselage is out in Smoketown. The wings are out in Ohio. The engine's out in Reno, Nevada."

Armstrong said he does not intend to be active in local or state politics.

"I think Bob Walker's probably my model there," he said, referring to the former congressman. "Bob's involved, but he's more involved from the lobbyist side. As far as locally, he's not real active. He'll take a position once in a while, but that's where I am. I'm going to have very little contact on political stuff."


Changing climate


You would think that for a guy who has spent half of his life in politics, it would be difficult to walk away. It's not. Or so he says.

"I think it will be easy. You just get to the point where you've had enough. And it's time to move on. I've had my fill. I'll help out when I can, because we need good people now more than ever," Armstrong said.

But recruiting quality candidates is tough given the brutal criticism politicians face on a regular basis, he said.

"It's tough. I mean, there's nothing that's off-limits. People can say and do anything," Armstrong said. "With the Internet, it's like people writing anonymous letters to the newspaper every day. You have people who say anything about you at any time, and there's not a whole lot you can do about it.

"To put a family through that can be hard. ... I've known in the last election some good people who were seriously thinking about running for office who decided not to just because of that," he said. "It doesn't bode well for attracting people to public office."


Skeptical of politics


Armstrong is a former Marine Corps officer — he served as a naval nuclear weapons courier who had top-level clearances — who only reluctantly got into politics. The Vietnam veteran said in a 1984 interview that he could relate to those who were turned off by politics.

Armstrong had moved back to Lancaster in 1969 and was beginning to work as a stockbroker. Seven years later, in 1976, Kendig Bare, a former Lancaster mayor, approached him with the news that the state representative in Solanco's 100th District, Sherman Hill, was retiring.

"I had no intention of ever running for office," he remembered. "I didn't even know what a committee person was. I said, 'Who are all these committee people we're talking about? I had no idea who they were, so nobody at the time took me seriously."

Armstrong, who was 32 at the time, talked it over with his wife. He made a list of 10 people whose opinions he respected, and talked to each of them. He promised himself that if only one discouraged him, he'd forget the idea.

They all told Armstrong to go for it.

But there's more to that story.

A flood of emotions rushed over Armstrong in 1976, when Democrat Jimmy Carter was running for president.

"Back in 1967, my best friend was killed in Quang Tri. His name was Jimmy Carter, of all names," Armstrong remembered, his voice breaking up. "That just brought back a lot of memories. He and I were very close. Actually had sons born almost the same day. So I talked to Marti. We did some serious soul-searching and thought, maybe we can make a difference.

"I didn't know then what I was getting into," he said.


Successes


You don't have to look hard to find evidence of Armstrong's commitment to revitalizing the city and bringing home state money to other parts of his district. There's the $240 million Route 30 bypass, the Penn Square hotel and convention center, Clipper Magazine Stadium, Central Market improvements, the Lancaster Museum of Art project and a new YMCA in the works.

"Years ago, someone told me how the cities are imploding, and that cities were getting full of cockroaches," Armstrong said. "It kind of bothered me, but they had a point: once a city gets to a certain point, it's irreversible.

"And he said, 'Is Lancaster at that point?' I said, 'No, I don't think it is. But if it goes this way for another five, 10 years, it's going to be such that we can't get this thing turned around,'" Armstrong remembered. "So I guess at that point I said, 'You know, I'm going to do everything I possibly can to make sure that Lancaster has a decent shot at survival in being resurrected, being revitalized, since we have so much to offer.'"

In the southern end, he has gotten money to improve the once-treacherous Buck intersection, at Routes 272 and 372 and the Strasburg bypass on which work has finally begun. In York — yes, parts of that county are in the 13th District as well — he worked to get money to convert a shuttered Bon-Ton Distribution Center into a 300,000-square-foot shopping center.

Armstrong's has had 72 bills passed and signed into law. You would recognize many of them — workers compensation, the prevailing wage act, health savings account legislation and insurance related bills.

His biggest disappointment?

Passage of the 2004 bill legalizing slot machines in Pennsylvania, a measure Armstrong fought tooth and nail.

"I feel a real disappointment that they were able to push that through," he said. "But there was just so much money involved. And so much that they could do for certain districts that for the members, it was very difficult to vote against it.

"It's one of the things I wish we could do over," Armstrong said.


Advice to Smucker


Armstrong said he offered the incoming lawmaker doses of encouragement and reality.

"I told him both sides, the good sides and the bad sides. There's some nice things that happen, and good things can be done. You can make a difference," Armstrong said. "The other side is, he has young children like I did, and I think the job is even more demanding now than it was then when my children were young."

Armstrong has four grown children.

"I told both of them, him and his wife, make sure you plan your family time first because if not, the whole thing will fill up with different events and invitations and dinners," Armstrong said. "I think that's the best advice I gave him."

The retiring lawmaker also cautioned Smucker that change doesn't happen quickly in the Legislature.

"I remember one time we had an Amish taxi problem. My first year in there, I said, 'Well, I'll put a bill in.' This was a big issue, front page. It was also in my district. So I had big bills drawn up."

A newspaper reporter asked him, "How long do you think it will take?"

Armstrong responded, "I think we can get this done in a couple of months."

"He kind of smiled at me a little bit," the senator remembered. "He was very courteous. Two years later, we got part of it done. It's just extremely complicated to get legislation passed. It takes a long time, no matter how good it is."

Learning curve

Armstrong's ability to uncover hidden pots of money — and bring it back to the district — has been uncanny.

"You stick around long enough," he said, "you figure out where the money is."

He said he and his staff will share those trade secrets with Smucker.

"No one tells you. No one tells you where these funds are because they don't want you to have access to them if they have access," he said. "It's just the way it is. So I'll share that with him and work with Lloyd to make him very effective right off the bat."

Lessons learned

Armstrong is humble about his role.

"I guess the lesson is that you're probably not as important as you think you are," he said. "The job's important, but the day you leave office you'll be forgotten pretty quickly, easily. Ask Charlie Smithgall. Ask Art Morris. It didn't take long."

He also wishes he could have spent more time with his family.

"I probably have gone to a lot of meetings that I wouldn't have had to go to but I thought it was important that I be there," he said. "But looking back, I probably should have shared more time with my family instead of going to all those meetings, because they probably wouldn't have missed me.

"That's probably the one thing I've learned."


Staff writer Tom Murse can be reached at tmurse@LNPnews.com or 481-6021.