Love in The Process: Keyna and Jack Cory

When Keyna Cory met her husband-to-be, Jack, in the early 1980s, both were in the thick of local Broward County political campaigns. Fresh out of the University of Florida, she wanted to become involved in politics and volunteered for the late John Gillespie’s first campaign. Jack was a more seasoned pol, working on “probably a dozen campaigns at that time in Broward County.”

Their first encounter was brief — during an after-hours meeting with Gillespie, who warned her off Jack because he was recently divorced and always on the road. But it was love at first sight for Keyna.

After the election (Gillespie lost, Jack’s candidates won), they started going out, although one of their early dates was her sitting with him as he waited to appear before the Broward County Commission.

“I learned very quickly about Broward County Commission meetings and how long they can be,” Keyna deadpanned.

Things were progressing nicely, dating for a year and then moving in together. On a trip to New York City, she proposed to him. Jack declined.

“It was a long flight back from New York,” she said.

Jack says he had it in his head that, after the divorce, he would take his time before committing. But shortly afterward, during a League of Cities gathering in Atlanta, he skipped the meeting, sat in his hotel room, and told himself, “Get over it. You’ve got a great opportunity. You’ve got a great person. Stop putting up arbitrary and capricious boundaries.”

Two weeks later, he proposed to Keyna. They married, and shortly afterward, she quit her job as a fashion director at Jordan Marsh and cheerfully went into business with her husband.

At the time, her boss at the department store called Jack to ask him to talk her out of leaving behind such a great opportunity. “The audacity,” he recalled. “I said I’m not going to. Obviously, she’s still in business, and Jordan Marsh is not.”

The couple would ultimately move their life and two cats to Tallahassee, living in a townhome a few miles out of town near Lake Jackson, far enough away from downtown to leave lobbying behind.

“The only time it was a problem (was) the (Tom) Gustafson years when he would keep us here until 2 and 3 o’clock in the morning and then have us come back at 7 a.m. for meetings and then driving back and forth … that was challenging,” Keyna said.

Female lobbyists were scarce in the late 20th century, and it could be challenging for clients to take her seriously. Jack was her fiercest supporter, calling her a “superstar in everything she does.”

Their firm, Public Affairs Consultants, has a short — but very dedicated — client list. Dear to Keyna’s heart is the National Waste & Recycling Association, a group the firm has worked with from Day 1. “I get paid to talk garbage,” she said.

At one point, Jack asked her to give up the group and be the point person for a health care company. But after a few weeks, she told her husband, “I want my garbage guys back. So, we flipped, and he became an expert in health care areas, and I did environmental and solid waste and recycling.”

The Corys have purposefully kept their consultancy small. Only one person is working in their office, Associate Erin Daly Ballas, who joined the firm in 2008 as an intern.

Money talks in the influence field these days, but the Corys are old school, preferring a more grassroots and shoe-leather approach.

“When we’re out of Session, at least one of the three of us is on the road …. getting the clients to visit with the legislators and educate them on the issue back home before they come up here,” Jack said.

During their interview in the hallway outside the offices of Speaker Pro Tempore Chuck Clemons and House Rules Chair Danny Perez (the next Speaker of the House and a popular guy as the Session enters its final weeks), the pair had a word with every legislator, lobbyist and staffer who passed by. Always be nice to the staffers, they advise.

They tell the story of one staff member, Debbie, who most lobbyists considered “a pain,” gossiped about and didn’t want to talk to. That “pain” is now Congresswoman Debbie Wasserman Schultz, who has President Joe Biden’s cell number on speed dial.

They are often asked, isn’t working and being married a little too much togetherness?

“People think that we’re together all day, every day. That’s not the case,” Keyna said. “He’s got his issues that he is working on. I was working on other issues this morning. Sometimes, I’m on the phone calling him as we’re driving home, and we talk for 25 or 30 minutes.”