In October 1987, in one of those moments of unusual candor, Summit County Republican Party Chairman Alex Arshinkoff told the Beacon Journal what he envisioned as his life's ambition.

''I want to do this job for the rest of my life,'' he said.

At that point, Arshinkoff had already been chairman for nearly a decade and he loved it.

''Ever since I was a kid,'' he said, ''there was nothing else I ever wanted to do. I wanted to be in politics.''

He has done well meeting his goal, serving as the party's county ''boss'' for nearly 30 years.

And since taking the reins, this man who has routinely rubbed elbows with presidents hasn't faced a serious challenge.

Until now.

Next week, the party's central committee — after a prolonged battle — will meet to decide whether Arshinkoff should remain chairman or whether the post will pass to Carol Klinger, a Cuyahoga Falls council member and a much less well-known Republican whom many describe as Arshinkoff's ''antithesis.''

He's loud. She's quiet.

She has degrees. He dropped out of college to take over the party.

He was the protege of Republican political icon Ray Bliss. She could make history as the first woman to head the party.

Klinger and the New Summit County Republicans are critical of how the party's money has been spent under Arshinkoff's watch and of his recent win-loss record. They want to see the party shift gears — going back to a focus on grass-roots politics and local races.

In a sense, it would be a return to what Please see Republican, A12

Arshinkoff did when he became chairman in 1978. Even his opponents give him credit for the strides he made in the post-Watergate era.

''It would be ludicrous to suggest he did not do a lot of good things for the party,'' said Pete Kostoff, an Akron attorney and former Arshinkoff ally who is now helping the effort to unseat him.

Glory days

Arshinkoff began his political career scrubbing toilets and cleaning ash trays in the county courthouse.

It was a summer job for the University of Akron student, handed to him by the Republican-controlled board of county commissioners.

As a freshman, he was elected president of the College Republicans, and in 1974, he caught the attention of Gene Waddell, then the county GOP chairman.

Four years later, Bliss — a former county, state and national Republican Party chairman — orchestrated Arshinkoff's rise to replace Waddell.

When he took over at the age of 23, he was said to be the youngest GOP chairman of an urban county in the state, if not the country.

Arshinkoff assembled a group of young, up-and-coming Republicans to help him build the party — ironically including several who are now trying to oust him.

Kim Hoover, a Cuyahoga Falls municipal judge, was in that group and fondly remembers those days.

''That was a fun 10 to 15 years — getting the party back on its feet,'' said Hoover, who is unofficially backing Klinger. ''I thought Alex did an excellent job. He was not interested in money in any degree. He was interested in power — building the party.''

The party reached a pinnacle in 1996, when Republicans won 16 of 33 races on the ballot in the county, the best record since the Great Depression. It was no small feat, considering that key seats were, and still are, dominated by Democrats.

By the mid-1990s, Arshinkoff also was firmly entrenched as a mover and shaker in state and national politics.

President George H.W. Bush, called him ''Arch'' — Arshinkoff served as one of his state campaign advisers.

George Voinovich, remembering that Arshinkoff was the first county party chairman to endorse him for governor in 1990, once said: ''I feel like he's my brother.''

State Auditor Mary Taylor credits Arshinkoff for her victory in 2006, when she was the only Republican to win statewide office. She said he backed her when she ran for Green City Council and the legislature and has supported local female candidates.

''He is recognized as a great chair — locally, statewide and nationally,'' said Taylor, a member of the county party's central committee.

'A different person'

But at some point in the last 10 years or so, Arshinkoff's adversaries claim, he changed.

They said he didn't deliver on promises in local campaigns. He cut off ties to his closest allies. He stopped listening to input.

''He's a different person,'' said Hoover, who was angered over Arshinkoff's handling of his unsuccessful campaign for county executive and his failed bid for county prosecutor.

''I don't really understand him. I have firsthand experience of him not keeping his word.''

Klinger said she, too, was stung by Arshinkoff's promises. In 1998, she said, he asked her at the last minute to run against county Auditor James McCarthy. She said he pledged weekly campaign meetings and plenty of funds, and assured her she could win.

But Klinger said ''the weekly meetings didn't happen.''

Klinger, a certified public accountant who has been on Cuyahoga Falls City Council since 1994, said there were times ''when I couldn't get a phone call.''

Klinger lost that race and said when Arshinkoff later asked her to run for county treasurer, her response was simply: ''You've got to be kidding me.''

Kostoff, who has been on the outs with Arshinkoff since the late 1990s, said Arshinkoff has been colored by his dual roles as a party chairman and lobbyist. It was in 1994 that he started his lobbying firm, Arshinkoff & Associates.

''When he went into the lobbying and consulting business, he still had the challenge of raising money for people who were his clients,'' said Kostoff, an attorney and lobbyist for the Akron law firm Roetzel & Andress. ''You have to ask yourself, 'How hard did he lobby those people for contributions and at what cost?' ''

Arshinkoff found himself on the opposite side of Kostoff and other county Republicans in 2006, when he became co-chairman of J. Kenneth Blackwell's gubernatorial campaign. Klinger headed the Summit County campaign of Jim Petro, Blackwell's GOP opponent. State Sen. Kevin Coughlin, who later launched the effort to unseat Arshinkoff, was another Petro supporter.

Blackwell won the nomination, but overwhelmingly lost to Democrat Ted Strickland.

It's not only officeholders and political insiders, though, who are unhappy with Arshinkoff's performance. Some contributors are as well. Thomas Murdough, the retired founder and president of the Little Tikes and Step2 toy companies, is among them.

''I think they can do better,'' said Murdough, who lives in Hudson and has hosted fundraisers for GOP candidates. ''I don't think he represents the broad cross section of the Republican constituency.''

Murdough disagreed with Arshinkoff supporters who contend donations would dry up if he were defeated.

''A fresh new chairman would dramatically improve the level of contributions and I think the caliber of candidates would be upgraded,'' Murdough said.

Battle begins

Last August, the battle to unseat Arshinkoff began with a blistering, three-page letter that Coughlin sent to party supporters and the media.

Coughlin and his clandestine group — called the New Summit County Republicans — pledged to take out Arshinkoff by gaining control of the party's central committee in the March 4 primary. But the Cuyahoga Falls senator refused to name his candidate, except to say he wouldn't seek the post himself.

Both sides waged a nasty and mostly behind-the-scenes battle through competing Web sites and mailings — many anonymous.

More than 600 people ran for 475 seats on the central committee in the March election. The results were murky, with both sides claiming victories in the contested races.

In February, Arshinkoff suffered a serious setback when Ohio Secretary of State Jennifer Brunner, a Democrat, refused to reappoint him to his long-held county elections board seat. She also rejected the party's suggested replacement, instead tapping Akron attorney Don Varian, one of those involved in the attempt to oust Arshinkoff as chairman.

The party challenged Brunner's decision in a case pending in the Ohio Supreme Court.

Then in late March, the New Summit County Republicans announced Klinger as Arshinkoff's competition, to the surprise of those who had assumed Varian would be the candidate.

About 20 people involved in the effort from the beginning picked Klinger, Coughlin said. The group included Varian, Kostoff, former Summit County Engineer Gene Esser, Stow Councilwoman Janet D'Antonio, Copley Township Trustee Helen Humphrys and Woodridge school board member Cheryl Hoover, Kim Hoover's wife.

''Over the course of our meetings, it became clear that Carol was tough as nails and the right candidate for what the party is in need of,'' Coughlin said. ''We don't need a boss. We need a leader.''

Kim Hoover, a longtime friend of Klinger's who recruited her to join him on the Falls council, thinks she is well qualified.

''She is among the best and brightest I've dealt with,'' he said. ''She has honesty and integrity — qualities that would serve her well.''

Klinger, in a recent interview during an hourlong lunch break from her accounting job at Goodyear, said she wouldn't micromanage the party. She said she would bring in talented people and better handle the finances and support local candidates.

''There's so much more that can be done to help people,'' she said.

Klinger would keep her positions at Goodyear and on Falls council. She said she would have others
run the party day-to-day.

''Our chairman made the job bigger than life,'' she said, adding that she's not sure when Arshinkoff has been doing party work and lobbying.

Klinger said she has a good chance, as long as the vote is by secret ballot, which Arshinkoff has promised.

''I just want to get in there and do a great job and kick some butt,'' she said.

Full-time chairman

Arshinkoff, seated in his GOP office and surrounded by photos of himself with presidents, scoffed at the idea that the party's chair could be part time.

The job has been full time since 1936, he said, rattling off a list of the chairmen since then.

''I guess I'm a moron — for 30 years, I've been full time,'' he said during a nearly four-hour interview.

And ''damn little'' of it, he said, has been spent lobbying.

He spoke of his time as chairman, frequently launching into lengthy stories that included him mimicking voices.

John Steinhauer, an attorney and the party's longtime finance chairman who sat in on the interview, said the finance committee approves the party's expenditures, including how much to put into races.

''We have limited resources and have to allocate them where we have the best chance,'' Steinhauer said. ''Candidates do not necessarily agree.''

Both Arshinkoff and Steinhauer said it would be difficult to raise money solely for local candidates. People get more excited about the higher offices, like president, they said. Raising money for these races helps the party bring in funds for all contests.

''If you just raised money for local offices, your income would be substantially less,'' said Arshinkoff, who noted that the party has been bringing in $500,000 to $1.5 million a year, depending on the election cycle.

Arshinkoff thinks the effort against him is part of a conspiracy by Kostoff and his law partner, Wayne Jones, chairman of the Summit County Democratic Party, to take control of both parties and run them from their firm, Roetzel & Andress.

He claims his theory was bolstered by Brunner's deposition in the Supreme Court case. The secretary of state testified that Jones told her Arshinkoff shouldn't be reappointed to the elections board, that former Hudson Council President Brian Daley — the party's suggested replacement — should be rejected, and that Varian would be a good board member.

''Wayne knew the board of elections was the key to hurt the party,'' Arshinkoff said. ''He wanted everything under his control.''

Jones and Kostoff, who deny this grand scheme, said Arshinkoff is being paranoid and trying to divert attention from his own record.

Arshinkoff blamed the party's recent, less-than-stellar win-loss ratio in high-profile races on a backlash against Republicans. But he also pointed to a Beacon Journal study done last fall of all elected positions in Summit County that showed Democrats held 50 percent of the seats, while Republicans had 39 percent, and 11 percent weren't affiliated with either party.

And, Arshinkoff argued, even with losses, the party plays a vital role. He recalled a pledge he made to ''Mr. Bliss'' — as he fondly calls his mentor — shortly before his death.

''I made him a promise to do everything I can to keep the two-party system alive in this county,'' Arshinkoff said, his voice cracking with emotion. ''I've tried to do that.''

If Klinger loses, she and her supporters said, they won't stop the effort to remove Arshinkoff and will already have made a difference by gaining seats on the central committee.

''I believe his time as chair is coming to an end,'' Coughlin said. ''Whether it comes to an end this month or shortly, I think the party's over.''

Arshinkoff said he hopes he wins because he doesn't want to see the party regress and become ''a debating society.'' He still loves the job and doesn't see that changing anytime soon.

''Maybe there will come a point in a few years — five years or 10 years . . . '' Arshinkoff said. ''If I woke up in the morning and no longer liked it, they wouldn't have to ask me to leave.''