Ben Nighthorse Campbell, a trailblazing figure in Colorado politics and a fierce advocate for Native American causes, has left us at the age of 92.

Campbell passed away Tuesday of natural causes, surrounded by loved ones, as confirmed by his daughter Shanan Campbell to the New York Post.

His journey through public service, spanning three terms in the House from 1987 and two in the Senate from 1993 to 2005, carved a unique path marked by both grit and principle. A member of the Northern Cheyenne tribe, Campbell fought to honor his heritage, pushing legislation to elevate the Great Sand Dunes National Monument to a national park at the site of a tragic 1864 massacre.

A Maverick Who Defied Party Lines

Campbell’s political life took a sharp turn in March 1995 when he abandoned the Democrats for the Republican Party, frustrated over a failed balanced-budget amendment. This move rattled his former allies and handed a victory to the GOP, cementing his reputation as an independent thinker.

Shortly after the switch, he remarked, “I get hammered from the extremes,” acknowledging the criticism but standing firm. His willingness to listen never meant bending to every demand, a stance that defined his career over party loyalty.

A true maverick, Campbell’s cowboy boots, bolo ties, and ponytail set him apart in Congress as much as his policies on children’s rights and fiscal restraint. Even as a Republican, he maintained strong support for organized labor and minority issues, reflecting values forged in a hardscrabble life.

An Unlikely Rise to Political Power

Campbell’s entry into politics was almost accidental, sparked in 1982 while grounded by bad weather in Durango during a jewelry delivery trip. At a local Democratic meeting, he spoke for a friend running for sheriff and soon found himself recruited to challenge a GOP candidate.

“Like a fish, I was hooked,” he later quipped, recalling how the underdog role fueled his drive. Against a polished opponent who “looked like he was out of a Brooks Brothers catalog,” Campbell hit the streets, tore maps from phone books, and won over voters one doorstep at a time.

That first victory launched an unbroken string of wins, from the Colorado House to the US House and finally the Senate. His relentless energy and personal touch, even leaving notes for absent voters, turned skeptics into supporters.

Retirement and a Return to Roots

In 2004, a health scare prompted Campbell to rethink his path, leading him to drop out of a near-certain third Senate term. “I thought it was a heart attack. It wasn’t,” he said, reflecting on staring up at doctors and realizing he’d missed too much family time.

Retirement shifted his focus to Native American jewelry, a craft that earned him wealth and a showcase at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian. He also launched Ben Nighthorse Consultants, advising on federal policy and natural resources, while driving the Capitol Christmas Tree to Washington on multiple occasions.

His clashes with environmentalists over mining and grazing reforms never dulled his popularity, as seen in his 1998 Senate reelection rout of Democrat Dottie Lamm. As the only Native American in the Senate at the time, Campbell’s presence carried a weight beyond mere votes.

A Legacy of Principle Over Politics

Campbell’s life, from Air Force service in Korea to captaining the US judo team in the 1964 Olympics, shaped a worldview balancing social compassion with fiscal discipline. Time in an orphanage, labor in tomato fields, and work as a sheriff’s deputy hardened his resolve for the underdog, whether in policy or personal fights.

He faced criticism for party-switching but insisted his core never wavered, maintaining consistent votes on labor and women’s issues. Allegations involving a former staffer’s misconduct in his office, later resolved with a guilty plea in 2007, disappointed him, yet he pressed on, unfazed by Washington’s daily dramas.

Colorado leaders, like Sen. John Hickenlooper and Rep. Diana DeGette, mourned his loss on X, praising his kindness and singular spirit. Campbell’s legacy endures as a reminder that conviction can cut through partisan noise, leaving a mark deeper than any label.