There are many things to appreciate about the late Ben Nighthorse Campbell, but one of the items at the top of the list is his belief that it’s more important to kill bad bills than to sign onto a mediocre bill in the name of visibility. His time in the statehouse was the era of then-Gov. Dick Lamm, one of the first politicians I recall. I named my show lamb Governor Lamm one year and that should tell you a lot about why I am the way I am. Campbell was not as polished as those who only wear cowboy boots when in Rome or look the part in a tailored suit. Perhaps that was the appeal.

He served in the state legislature from 1983 to 1986 and then went on to serve three terms in the U.S. House of Representatives. He was reelected to the U.S. Senate in 1992. Campbell was the first Native American chair of the Committee on Indian Affairs.

He left the Democratic party in 1995, but held to his abortion rights stance, reportedly after his passenger in an ambulance one night was a young woman who was suffering as the victim of a back-alley abortion. At the time, he was teaching high school and riding in the ambulance at night as a deputy.

He had already survived a traumatic childhood that ended in an orphanage, quit high school to join the Air Force, and earned a gold medal in judo at the 1963 Pan American Games and competed in the 1964 Olympic Games in Tokyo. He was a rancher near Ignacio and was a driving force behind the designation of the Sand Creek Massacre site as a National Park.

Likely the only member of Congress with a commercial drivers license, Campbell was called upon to deliver the Capitol Christmas Tree from the Pike National Forest to D.C. Campbell didn’t want photo opps with the press, he just wanted to drive the truck like the regular guy he mostly was.

He joined President George W. Bush at the White House in 2004, dressed in his native northern Cheyenne dress, to mark the opening of the American Indian National Museum. Campbell said a good future was not possible for those who don’t learn from their past.

Last summer, Campbell saw the Southern Ute Tribe use water from in the Animas-La Plata Project, the first time since the project was authorized in 1968. The project was marred by decades of debate and is one of the most hotly debated water projects in southwestern Colorado.

The tribe piped water from Lake Nighthorse to oil and gas operations on the reservation. Revenue from those oil and gas activities will fund irrigation infrastructure on the reservation. The project – as most water issues do – divides water users and environmentalists. The debate raged on and in the 1990s, as if on cue, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service identified an endangered fish species and the Colorado pikeminnow nearly unraveled the project.

Campbell lived to see his namesake Lake Nighthorse, located 25 miles from his ranch, full of water though at a lower rate than initially planned. The fight for irrigation water continues, but the infamous “Don’t dam the Animas, damn Campbell” bumper stickers aren’t seen on the bumpers of pickups around southwestern Colorado anymore.

Campbell knew rural Colorado, believed in the underdog, created things with his hands, was married to his wife since 1966, and wasn’t one to back away from a fight. They certainly don’t make ‘em like Ben Nighthorse Campbell anymore.

Rachel Gabel writes about agriculture and rural issues. She is assistant editor of The Fence Post Magazine, the region’s preeminent agriculture publication.