Stan Kimmitt is like an old farmer who still gets up on the tractor and plants the 50-acre field behind the farmhouse.

On most weekdays the 86-year-old Montana native and former secretary of the U.S. Senate can be found making his rounds in a pinstripe suit and dress shirt with French cuffs that are monogrammed with his initials, JSK, and closed with "United States Senate" cuff links.

Although he has been in Washington, D.C., since 1955, Kimmitt, who now works as a lobbyist, is still a gopher-shooting Montana boy at heart. He describes how his father used borrowed money to farm wheat on land between Denton and Stanford before being wiped out by the drought of the early 1920s. He says that the time of deprivation has left an indelible mark on him.

"We lost everything and moved to Great Falls," said Kimmitt, a ruddy-faced man with a full head of silver hair. "I never lost that sense of not having anything."

Kimmitt, who fondly remembers shooting gophers with his brother, also has not lost his down-to-earth attitude about life and the trials that he has faced.

After saying that he and his wife, who had been a Red Cross girl in Europe during World War II, had seven children, Kimmitt added, "With that many you are either Mormon, Catholic or careless."

He replies that he is both Catholic and careless when asked which apply to him.

Kimmitt said that his wife, Eunice, gave birth to eight children, one of whom died as an infant. Of the eight children, only five are living. A daughter who was a diabetic and lived in Missoula died two years ago. A son, Thomas, died last year following 18 years in a coma after being hit by a car.

"The Lord saw fit to be merciful and end his life," Kimmitt said quietly before quickly moving on to another subject.

If Stan Kimmitt is the old farmer who is still doing some fieldwork, his three living sons are like the young farmers who now do the bulk of the farm work. One son, Bob, is an executive vice president of Time Warner; a second son, Jay, is a senior vice president and lobbyist for the Osh Kosh Truck Corp.; and, a third son, Mark, is a brigadier general and was spokesman for the United States military operation in Iraq.

All three are graduates of the United States Military Academy at West Point.

Although Stan Kimmitt's glory days are behind him he still keeps busy despite some minor health problems. He dismisses a persistent cough by noting that he had radiation on his throat a few years ago to treat cancer.

"A couple of weeks ago they put in a pacemaker, but it doesn't bother me," Kimmitt said.

It is easy to believe. He still has the ramrod straight back of the military man he once was and walks with a purposeful gait. He is the chairman of the lobbying firm KSC&W and still actively represents several clients, including the Montana Economic Revitalization and Development Institute Inc.

He modestly dismisses the work that he and the firm do saying that it does not compare to the operations run by men like Tommy Boggs, the son of former Louisiana Democratic congressman Hale Boggs and the brother of television reporter Cokie Roberts.

"We just fart around," said Kimmitt, whose face flushes crimson when he laughs. "We're not big and we don't make a large splash or a lot of money. We're surviving and doing well, but we're not a Tommy Boggs type outfit."

MERDI president and CEO Don Peoples said that he has been quite satisfied with Kimmitt's efforts. Besides lobbying for MERDI, Kimmitt is also a member of the organization's board.

"There is only one Stan Kimmitt," Peoples said. "When they made him, they threw away the mold. He's a very solid person. He's from the old school."

The lobbying work is the culmination of a work life marked by what he describes as "good luck" and resourcefulness.

Kimmitt's work life began when he was drafted out of the University of Montana.

"I went to the Army for supposedly one year in June of 1941," Kimmitt said.

He ended up spending the next 24 years in the military. After fighting throughout Europe during World war II, he was selected to be a first lieutenant in 1945. After fighting in Korea, Kimmitt was assigned to the secretary of the Army office of legislative liaison to the Senate.

At that time he renewed his friendship with Montana Sen. Mike Mansfield, who had been his professor at the University of Montana.

"I was one of his students and as he always said, not a very good one," Kimmitt said.

He explains that his lack of interest in school was because of the United States impending entrance in World War II.

"We knew we were going to be drafted and go into the army and that was not conducive to hitting the books," Kimmitt said.

Although Kimmitt had originally been opposed to going to Washington, he grew to respect politicians and specifically the Senate.

"Before they assigned me they asked me where I wanted to go," Kimmitt said. "I said, 'Anywhere, but not DC because I have six children and one on the way and I can't afford it.' I also said I don't like members of Congress. I told them I wanted no part of it."

Kimmitt said when he questioned the assignment he was told, "Do as you're told."

In 1965, Mansfield, who was Senate majority leader, asked Kimmitt to leave the army and join his staff.

"By this time I had been indoctrinated," Kimmitt said. "My respect for members of Congress had greatly increased. I had learned that if you look at a member you can see through him and see his constituency."

In 1977, senators elected Kimmitt to be the Secretary of the Senate.

Former Montana Democratic Rep. Pat Williams describes Kimmitt's management of the Senate as beautiful.

"Watching Stan handle the processes of the Senate was like watching a ballet," Williams said. "He brought order and timeliness to the Senate's daily process. The Senate by its nature is unruly and Stan brought order to the place."

Kimmitt served as Secretary of the Senate until 1981. At that point Kimmitt became a lobbyist.

Although he has spent his life in military uniforms or suits rather than overalls, Kimmitt said he has followed something his father, Joseph, said.

"He would say, It's root hog or die,' " Kimmitt said. "That means if things get tough you just have to knuckle down or die."

Kimmitt's father, Joseph, eventually left Great Falls and went back to farming At the end of his life he farmed about 180 acres near Ledger.

Like his father, Kimmitt is a satisfied man.

"I have been very lucky," he said. "Not lucky in the sense of money or possessions. I just feel lucky to have lived in this country for the last 86 years."