No less an authority than the longest-serving elected official in Idaho history says 2011 could bring tax reform rivaling the 1965 session that enacted a 3 percent sales tax.

Pete Cenarrusa, 92, who served nine terms as secretary of state, is the greatest vote-getter in Idaho history. In 1965, he was speaker of the House when the deal was struck to bolster funding for public schools and other programs.

The back story of the 1965 agreement is described in a new book, "Bizkaia to Boise: The Memoirs of Pete T. Cenarrusa," written by Quane Kenyon with Cenarrusa.

The accord included 17 exemptions on goods and an agreement not to tax services. But now that higher education is being priced out of reach for some and the Legislature verges on imposing a first-ever midyear cut in public schools, the legendary Republican said exemptions and exceptions that forgo $1.7 billion in revenue may have to be considered after the 2010 election.

"It looks like 2011 could be the year they'll bite into those exemptions," Cenarrusa told me. "Now, if we're going to do away with exemptions, are we going back on our word? But if the revenue situation becomes dire enough, they're going to have to look at everything, even the exemptions."

Cenarrusa said with the sales-tax rate now at 6 percent, broadening transactions subject to the tax may be the best course. "You can only go so far on increasing the rate."

The deal that helped make the 1965 session the greatest ever was struck over sandwiches at the Shoshone home of Senate President Pro Tem Jack Murphy. The negotiators included Cenarrusa and other legislative leaders and GOP Gov. Bob Smylie, who had backed away from a 1959 study he'd commissioned that called for a sales tax. Smylie ultimately went along with the sales tax, but it contributed to his defeat in the next Republican primary.

Cenarrusa was there in 1959 when Speaker Bob Doolittle had showed his anger at Smylie when the study was read in the House. "He brought that gavel down and broke the handle!"

The memoir is a breezy read that captures a remarkable life. Born in Shoshone in 1917 to Basque immigrant parents, Cenarrusa was a college boxer, Marine pilot, sheepman and 16-year lawmaker. He then spent 36 years as Idaho's top election official before retiring in 2003.

He was an influential voice for the rights of Basques in Spain and, with his wife of 62 years, Freda, remains a philanthropist supporting Basque culture.

He sparked an international incident in 2001 when he schooled the visiting Spanish ambassador on Basque nationalism. A year later, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice was drawn into the debate over a Cenarrusa-backed 2002 legislative memorial to Congress expressing support for Basques.

The book breaks some news. Cenarrusa reveals that in 1966 he was urged to seek vengeance by challenging Sen. Don Samuelson, who had beaten Smylie in the gubernatorial primary that year. Cenarrusa thought deserting the GOP to run as an independent was bad form. He told Smylie's chief of staff, Bob McCall, "Bob, I just can't do it."

Another Republican, state Sen. Perry Swisher, wound up on the ballot as an independent and got just 12 percent of the vote. Six months later, Secretary of State Edson Deal died. Samuelson appointed Cenarrusa to the job, where he built a spotless reputation for integrity.

A second revelation comes from 2005, when George W. Bush became the 11th president met by Cenarrusa. Cenarrusa wanted to tell Bush about how he'd lured Harry Truman to Carey in 1948 to dedicate an airstrip and how Cenarrusa and the first President Bush both won their Navy Wings of Gold at Corpus Christi.

Bush shook Cenarrusa's hand, but wouldn't talk. "He humiliated me," Cenarrusa said. "All the other presidents were very, very kind."

Juicy stories litter the book. But Cenarrusa's recollection of the achievements of the 1965 Legislature couldn't be more timely.

That bunch not only had the guts to bring financial stability to education, but established community colleges, the departments of Parks and Recreation and Water Resources, a merit system and pension plan for public employees, and property-tax equity.

Cenarrusa laments the loss of bipartisan and bicameral camaraderie. In 1965, lawmakers trusted one another enough to make the toughest of decisions, raising taxes. Now, they're so sharply divided by party and between House and Senate, they can't even find a way to follow the lead of Gov. Butch Otter and fund roads.

In 1965, many lawmakers lived at the Hotel Boise, took nourishment at the Elbow Room bar and played cards in their rooms.

"I got acquainted with a lot of Democrats, friends of mine, playing poker and having a drink," Cenarrusa said. "That feeling isn't there any more."

Would that every lawmaker could read Cenarrusa's story and learn something about leadership and vision in tough times.

Dan Popkey: 377-6438