Senate candidate John Deaton says he's a different kind of Republican

But most runners didn't seem to notice the tall, bald, bearded man or the giant sign reading “Elect John Deaton for U.S. Senate” decorated with a towering dancing skeleton behind him, let alone the water to take advantage of what he handed out on this hot morning.

This scene could be a good representation of the life of a Republican candidate in Massachusetts. A few voters are enthusiastic about the Republican; Some are just eager to see a Democrat lose. But the vast majority just run past.

“No need to say I’m delusional,” laughed Deaton, all too familiar with these challenges.

“If the voter only sees 'Elizabeth Warren, Democrat, Cambridge', 'John Deaton, Republican'… I lose 25 points,” the 57-year-old added this Saturday, squinting in the sun as runners raced past. “As they learn more about me, it becomes dramatically more competitive. Unfortunately, it’s just a matter of getting the name out there and advertising.”

A personal injury lawyer and vocal advocate for the cryptocurrency industry, Deaton has taken on the challenge this year to beat a better-funded, better-known and highly favored Democrat. Deaton is a newcomer to Massachusetts and Republican politics here and is telling voters is that he is a different kind of Republican, one who understands poverty, supports abortion rights and opposes former President Donald Trump.

And it could even be a successful pitch – if anyone hears it.

Less than two weeks before the Nov. 5 election, Deaton is still trying to reach voters with a compelling personal story that he details in his memoir and tells in excerpts on the ballot.

Deaton grew up in Highland Park, Michigan, raised by a single mother who relied on food stamps and welfare. He said he was sexually abused when he was young and had a gun put in his mouth on the first day of school. He was the first in his family to graduate from high school and went on to graduate from Eastern Michigan University and the New England School of Law. A Marine Corps veteran, he worked at Legal Sea Foods in Boston while attending law school and later founded his own company.

Financial records now show that Deaton has assets worth at least $18 million. This year he bought an 8-acre house in Bolton with a pool, patio and garden for his two pigs, Cornelius and Penelope, and about a dozen chickens (one less after that). A fox recently made it through the fence and left a sad pile of feathers behind. He often describes himself as a “living, breathing embodiment of the American dream.”

Deaton speaks with the confident confidence of a lawyer accustomed to arguing his case in front of a jury. He says he always believed he would escape the poverty he grew up in, but joked that he thought it would happen earlier in his life – around his 30s. The material success he enjoys now came much later.

Most of the money came from smart – some would say risky – financial investments rather than his legal work. In 2007, Deaton recalled, he bought his first iPhone and was amazed at its ability to access the Internet on mobile. He sold everything he owned and bought Apple shares. Once it started, he was able to get out of debt and pay off his student loans and mortgage.

He also owed his wealth to the cryptocurrency industry, which he is now involved in. Deaton owns at least $10 million worth of bitcoin, financial records show, and has spent hundreds of hours on legal cases related to the industry.

The people who have done best financially in this country over the last few decades owned things, Deaton often says; He advocates for measures that would help low-income people follow the same path to prosperity, such as allowing public housing residents to build equity in their homes through their rent payments.

“Many people can see his life experience in their own lives. And his challenge is to get people to take a look at him, because if they do, they'll see someone they can identify with,” said Anthony Amore, a Republican who is running the race Lost state auditor position in 2022. Voters will support a moderate Republican, but only if they see him as a person they could identify with and not just a generic “R,” Amore said.

Although Massachusetts reliably comes out on top in federal elections, it has a history of electing moderate Republicans across the state, most notably Charlie Baker and a number of other centrist GOP governors before him. Deaton argues that he could have a chance of beating Warren if voters saw him as an heir to that moderate legacy. Internal polls, Deaton said, show voters are in the single digits when they realize he is a Marine Corps veteran who supports abortion rights.

Deaton's problem seems to be that not many people know this yet – and it costs money to tell them. Lot of money. Six years ago, Warren beat her Republican opponent, conservative Trump supporter Geoff Diehl, by 24 percentage points. A recent Boston Globe/Suffolk University poll found that despite their very different approaches, voters see Deaton no differently: He trailed Warren by exactly the same margin, 24 percentage points.

With so little time left, it's Deaton's chance The opportunities to close this gap are becoming ever smaller. The race's only two debates took place last week and more than 900,000 people have already voted.

“It's a very, small, close fight up the field, isn't it?” Deaton said, squeezing his hands together to show how lean he is.

Deaton admitted he had a hard time raising money to spread his message. He initially loaned his campaign $1 million, but he hasn't used any personal funds since the spring. Warren currently has $5.4 million in cash on hand – more than six times Deaton's account.

Deaton's opposition to Trump complicates his fundraising, he said, because Trump supporters don't want to donate to him and never would – Trump supporters who believe that having the former president on top would drag down all other Republicans is on the list this year.

By speaking to the center, Deaton angered the right. Recently, a conservative faction of Republican activists here publicly rejected him, writing: “Deaton is not worthy of our money, our time, or our votes.” He doesn’t receive much support from national Republicans or even the largest PAC supporting the cryptocurrency industry. Baker has remained silent on the race.

Meanwhile, Warren's case against Deaton is largely about associating him with the national Republican Party, from which he has tried to maintain a healthy distance. She warns that a GOP victory in Massachusetts could mean the Senate falls to Republican control, jeopardizing Democrats' priorities on issues from abortion to immigration.

All of this makes Deaton something of a political orphan.

“Sometimes I feel like the candidate that no one wants but everyone needs,” Deaton said.

Scott Brown, the only Republican to represent Massachusetts in the U.S. Senate in the last four decades, said Deaton's independence was the best argument he could make to voters. Finally, Massachusetts residents have numerous Democrats representing them in Congress and the State House.

“You just want a person to be a little different,” Brown said.

Brown stunned the political world when he won a special election in 2010 to fill the seat of the late Sen. Edward M. Kennedy, in another race that no one believed a Republican could win. But Brown acknowledged that Deaton faces a greater challenge in a presidential election year when Democrats in Massachusetts are energized.

Brown also enjoyed the support of the Tea Party movement, and with the country keeping an eye on his race, he raised $18 million. And of course, Brown had one of those magical political moments when he declared that the Senate job he was seeking was not the “Kennedy seat,” as it had long been referred to, but “the people's seat.”

In the final stretch before the election, Deaton needs a big breakthrough like that. If he can capture the nation's attention and money, he could still capture the attention of Massachusetts voters.

All of this could happen, Deaton believes. But it may well be that this is not the case.

“I’ll be disappointed,” Deaton said of defeat; “I’m a competitive guy.”

But, he said, his upbringing gave him perspective. “I never should have graduated from high school.”

“I don’t have that life anymore,” Deaton said, alluding to his childhood filled with trauma, assault and food insecurity. He looked out over his sprawling, sun-drenched estate in this idyllic Central Mass. town. around. Even if he loses, he said, “I have this life.”

Emma Platoff can be reached at [email protected]. Follow her @emmaplatoff.