The Odd Couple

He is a calculating political consultant. She is a straight-talking cop. He’s an old-school liberal. She is a law-and-order moderate. He holds a seat on the elected school board. She has never run for office.

She is planning a run for City Council next spring in Carson.

He is planning a run for City Council next spring in Compton.

What could they have in common?

Basil and Jenny Kimbrew are married.

“You could call us the Bill and Hillary Clinton of L.A. County,” he says, half-jokingly.

Perhaps. But in terms of novelty, the political teaming of Mr. and Mrs. Kimbrew--as they call each other--exceeds that of the first family, who never ran for office simultaneously.

With both Kimbrews considered strong candidates, it’s possible that two married officeholders from bordering cities could establish a new model of modernity for Southern California matrimony.

“I can’t find a situation like this in state history,” says state historian Kevin Starr.

The parallel Kimbrew campaigns already have prompted whispering in both cities about the spouses’ real residency and true loyalties.

To put such questions to rest, the Kimbrews say they have separated their daily lives. They attend different churches (he, Mt. Pilgrim Baptist in Compton; she, New Philadelphia African Methodist Episcopal in Carson), keep separate bank accounts and spend weeknights at residences five miles apart.

She owns a house on Tajauta Avenue in Carson; he rents an apartment on Mayo Avenue in Compton and is buying a house nearby on Santa Fe Avenue.

“I love my city, and she loves hers,” says Mr. Kimbrew. “To my opponents, let me be clear: Yes, I am married, and yes, I live in Compton.”

“People don’t live and work in the same way anymore; there are plenty of commuter couples,” says Mrs. Kimbrew. “We’re just very different people who are married to each other.”

The two opposites met at a City Council meeting in Lynwood in 1998. He was there as a political aide to a congresswoman. The future Mrs. Kimbrew, a sergeant at the sheriff’s Century station, was law enforcement liaison to the school district. Both had built independent lives after failed first marriages.

The former Jenny L. Bethune grew up in Compton, the daughter of a nurse’s aide and a day laborer, and still owns her childhood house on Aprilia Avenue.

She joined the Sheriff’s Department in 1981. Promoted to lieutenant this year, she serves as day shift watch commander, overseeing the transport of prisoners. A cautious sort, she is careful to say that her sheriff’s service is distinct from her nascent political career.

To Mr. Kimbrew, 47, life is politics. The son of an airline worker and a bus driver who lived in Carson, he graduated from Washington State University and worked as a concert promoter before becoming Compton’s most controversial political consultant.

In 1995, he won a seat on the school board, though it has been powerless since a state takeover in 1993. Some have called Kimbrew’s behavior on the board irresponsible, and state officials cite it as one reason why they’re slow to return local control.

Over the years, he has repeatedly tangled with the city’s most powerful politician, Mayor Omar Bradley, who once claimed that Kimbrew shot at his house. Police never substantiated any shooting.

As they courted, Mrs. Kimbrew, who had been living with her two children in Diamond Bar, decided to move closer to Mr. Kimbrew. In 1998, she bought a house in Carson, which she found more pleasant than Compton.

They were married Jan. 1, 1999, says Mrs. Kimbrew, “because I didn’t want him to forget his anniversary.”

From the beginning, the union allowed for plenty of separation. The two kept their separate residences and different hours. The even-tempered Mrs. Kimbrew works the morning shift, from 5 a.m. to 1 p.m. Mr. Kimbrew, a night owl, attends political functions that can run past midnight.

“Sometimes, we can be like ships passing, seeing each other only on weekends,” she says. “But we make it work.”

In April 1999, Mrs. Kimbrew accepted a part-time appointment to Carson’s human relations commission. With that, each of the newlyweds had a political position in their separate cities.

True to form, the couple says they decided to run for City Council independently. Mr. Kimbrew has long plotted a council campaign as a challenge to Mayor Bradley, his political nemesis.

But Mrs. Kimbrew’s choice was more spontaneous. She says she was disappointed in the Carson council’s muted response to local crime, particularly the recent murder of a friend and fellow Carson resident: high school Principal Gary Beverly.

“I did not know that she had taken out [filing] papers until after it was done,” says Mr. Kimbrew. “I was shocked, horrified, because I thought it would complicate my own race.”

The two council candidates, both registered Democrats, are fiercely pro-union and favor stronger Latino political representation in their cities. But, as politicians, husband and wife share little else.

Mrs. Kimbrew is far more open to tax cuts and education reforms such as charter schools. She also favors tough sentencing measures that are anathema to Mr. Kimbrew, a longtime critic of police brutality.

“He’s more of a lifetime political activist, out there with his signs, making noise,” she says. “I like to work within the system.”

The Carson election, for two at-large council seats, is March 6. Compton goes to the polls to select two council members by district on April 17. The Kimbrews say they will run separate campaigns; Mrs. Kimbrew will not use her husband’s fund-raising skills.

Yet the impression of the two as a marital unit--in both Compton and Carson--is key to their perceived political strengths. The squeaky-clean cop could help the image of the controversial operative, and the political consultant could offer hard-headed advice to the electoral novice.

“I don’t quite understand how they can run separately at the same time,” says incumbent Carson Councilman Daryl Sweeney. “But if it happens, I don’t discount her because she’s smart and Basil has great political instincts.”

“Some people see him as a liar and manipulator,” says Lorraine Cervantes, a longtime Compton community activist. “So having a nice wife who is a cop might help with that.”

Politicians in both cities expect opponents to raise questions about whether the Kimbrews are complying with local laws requiring candidates to live in their districts. Given the Kimbrews’ separate residences (which The Times confirmed with neighbors), most believe such attacks won’t work, however.

“To be honest,” says former Compton Community College board member Emily Hart-Holifield, “there are rumors about the residence of just about every politician in town.”

With filing deadlines coming up, the Kimbrews could still reconsider. But the two seem committed to the political life.

They have watched the Clintons closely, and even studied the case of two Republican politicians, Bill Paxon and Susan Molinari, who met and married in Congress in 1994 and ran for reelection at the same time in 1996.

“I believe Basil and Jenny will survive this,” says Hart-Holifield, who knows both. “It’s a relationship that is very loving.”

But also contentious. In fact, spending an afternoon with the couple would certainly delight Mr. Kimbrew’s political opponents, who might be surprised to know there is at least one person who can put him in his place.

Over lunch at Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles in Compton, Mrs. Kimbrew repeatedly corrects her husband. When Mr. Kimbrew complains about the contracting out of Compton’s police services to the sheriff, his wife notes that the officers still have jobs and a union, but with better pay and benefits.

As Mr. Kimbrew boasts about his work on the Compton school board, Mrs. Kimbrew suggests that the Compton district, which includes parts of Carson, is woeful. She wants to set up an education commission to consider whether schools in Carson should leave the Compton district.

“Can I finish, Mrs. Kimbrew?” he asks, exasperated.

“I’m just trying to point out some areas where we disagree, Mr. Kimbrew,” she replies.

“Mrs. Kimbrew, you’ve never won an election,” he says. “I’m the one who is an elected official and has had to take responsibility for these issues.”

If next year’s elections go well, higher offices might appeal to both. “At some point, we might be running against each other in the same race,” he says.

“Mr. Kimbrew,” she says, “on that we agree.”