Bob Graham accepted a dare to teach a civics class. It led him to the governor's mansion

Florida Democrat Bob Graham, who served as governor from 1979 to 1987 and as a U.S. senator from 1987 until his 2005 retirement, died Tuesday at the age of 87. Graham, who won all five of his statewide elections by at least 9 points, was one of the most popular Democrats in the Sunshine State in recent memory, but he only achieved that status after pulling off a major upset in 1978.

Graham was the son of former state Sen. Ernest Graham, who lost a competitive primary in 1944 for governor at a time when Florida was ruled by conservative Democrats, as well as the half-brother of Washington Post publisher Philip Graham. Bob Graham became wealthy through real estate, which included his work transforming the family's dairy and cattle farm into what is now the suburban community of Miami Lakes.

In 1966, Graham went on to win a state House seat in the Miami area in what was then Dade County (voters renamed it Miami-Dade County in 1997), and he won a promotion to the upper chamber four years later.

He was serving on the Senate Education Committee in 1974 when a high school teacher named Sue Reilly griped that none of the panel's members had any experience teaching. Graham accepted her challenge to instruct a civics class. While he later admitted he didn't think he'd ever find himself back in a classroom, the experience would unexpectedly set Graham on the path to statewide fame.

But the state senator had yet to make a name for himself when, in 1978, he sought to succeed Gov. Reubin Askew, a fellow Democrat who was termed out. Graham initially struggled to stand out in a field that included Attorney General Bob Shevin, Lt. Gov. James H. Williams, former Jacksonville Mayor Hans Tanzler, and even former Republican Gov. Claude Kirk.

Graham would later recount that, when his daughter Kendall said she didn't want to leave her friends in Miami behind to move to the governor’s mansion, his wife Adele responded, "Honey, there is no way on earth your father is ever going to be elected governor."

But Graham, who was inspired by his experience instructing Reilly's class and later as a teacher on his own for a full semester, gained media attention by embarking on what he dubbed "Workdays." The Democrat became famous for spending a full eight-hour day in various roles that included—but were not limited to—teaching, scooping dog poop, policework, installing wiring in Askew's office, applying for food stamps, and being Santa Claus.

The wealthy state senator also impressed his temporary coworkers by continuing to perform his job duties for the entire day even after the media had left. Robert Buccellato wrote in his detailed look at the 1978 campaign that Graham went on to do 100 Workdays during this race. Graham continued his Workdays in future campaigns and in office, ultimately tallying a total of 921 of them. 

Graham also expanded his appeal by selecting state Rep. Wayne Mixson, who had a base in North Florida, to be his running mate. The two went on to campaign as the "Graham-Cracker ticket."

Graham also benefited from a law that required candidates to win a majority of the vote to avert a runoff. (The legislature would abolish it in 2005.) Shevin secured first with 35%, but Graham outpaced Tanzler 25-12 for the crucial second spot.

The second round was a negative affair, with Shevin blasting Graham as "a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth, who never worked a day in his life." Graham hit back by attacking the attorney general as a supporter of laws to restrict gun access. And while Graham would often get knocked throughout his long career for lacking charisma, the St. Petersburg Times famously knocked Shevin as a "politician with a pock-marked face who sweats too much during his dull, earnest speeches."

Graham beat Shevin in a 54-46 upset, but he had an easier time in the general election against the Republican nominee, drugstore magnate Jack Eckerd. While Eckerd had only narrowly lost a 1974 Senate race to Democrat Richard Stone, he struggled to counter Graham's hard-won outsider image in what was still a Democratic-dominated state. Graham won 56-44 in what would be the first of a series of decisive victories.

Graham easily secured a second term in a 65-35 landslide over GOP Rep. Skip Bafalis, but with term limits preventing him from running for reelection in 1986, he set his eyes on challenging Republican Sen. Paula Hawkins. The one-term incumbent had spent her time in office making news in the wrong ways, which included saying that immigrants from Mexico "are not patriots." Both sides waged an expensive and acerbic campaign on the airwaves, but few were surprised when the popular Graham won 55-45.

Graham, who continued to cultivate a moderate image in the nation's capital, secured reelection 65-35 in 1992 against former Rep. Bill Grant; in 1998 he defeated state Sen. Charlie Crist, who at the time was a Republican rising star, 62-38. 

Graham's popularity in this rapidly growing swing state made him a perennial vice presidential prospect, but he was never chosen. The Washington Post, which was still run by a branch of his family, summed up his limited national appeal in 2003 when it called him "a sober, conscientious, unfailingly courteous grandfather who couldn't light up a room with a barrel of Iraqi crude and a Zippo."

Graham, an ardent opponent of the Bush administration's invasion of Iraq, decided to test that thesis by running for president in 2004, but his open heart surgery during the first weeks of his campaign hurt whatever chance he had to secure the nomination.

The senator dropped out well before the primaries and soon announced his retirement. Democrats went on to lose his seat when Republican Mel Martinez narrowly flipped it that fall, and the GOP has held it ever since.

Graham never again sought elected office, though his daughter, Gwen Graham, won a competitive U.S. House race in 2014. She was less successful when she sought her father's old post, however, losing the primary for governor in 2018.

Correction: This story incorrectly identified Wayne Mixson as a congressman in 1978. He was a state representative.