Austin's Ultimate Power Couple: Elizabeth Christian & Bruce Todd Power Defined (And Love + Commitment, Too)

Stepping out from under her famous father’s long shadow, as well as the death of her mother when Elizabeth Christian was an infant, are both challenges the longtime Austin PR maven has risen to. Yet they pale against the impact of her husband’s near-fatal cycling wreck. “That afternoon changed my life forever,” says Elizabeth Christian.

Thanksgiving Weekend 2005 marked the start of an agonizing recovery for former Austin Mayor Bruce Todd, and a stark re-evaluation by Christian of what their marriage meant to her. Todd spent five weeks in intensive care; a month of in-patient rehab followed, and finally, he came home. “There were many weeks where we didn’t know if he would ever get out of bed again,” says Christian. With Todd critically ill in the hospital, Christian, seemingly running on fumes, also managed to kick-off a media campaign to mandate helmets for all cyclists, a cause which she and Todd still ardently support. What long-term impact has her husband’s 2005 cycling wreck had on her? “The commitment was always there,” says Christian, a trim woman in a dress the perfect color complement to her pale skin, blonde hair and azure eyes. “But you don’t lightly treat a marriage when you’ve almost lost someone.” With Todd now having made a full recovery, Christian reflects, “It was hard, scary, intense But we were one of the lucky ones. I’ve got a whole different perspective now on what some people have gone through.”

The eldest child of George Christian (a close friend and aide to President Johnson), Christian has an unabashed passion for politics that turned into a passion for a certain local politician. Newly single, and with six-year-old daughter Alex in tow, Christian returned to her native Austin from northern California in 1993. Neither recalls her cursory job interview to become the incumbent mayor’s re-election campaign manager as earth-shattering. (She had raging strep, he was late for an appointment, is about as far as it goes.) Still, highly recommended by Todd’s strategy team, she was hired, beginning work in January 1994. Gradually, the pair’s professional respect for each other morphed. “Thank goodness, we won the campaign,” they both joke.

That July they married, deliberately avoiding any media fanfare, celebrating with their newly blended family on Nighthawk burgers followed by bowling. “We let the kids choose,” recalls Christian, grinning. The couple settled in Austin’s Northwest Hills neighborhood, survived the typical trials and tribulations of families (blended and not), including a double dose of teenage years. After he left ”office in 1996, she set-up her public relations firm. “My job is to help clients sell an issue or a product or a service, and talk about it in a meaningful way that’s of interest to the public,” she explains.

Over the years they’ve collaborated on some projects, and now Bruce Todd Public Affairs is housed within her firm’s downtown offices. George Christian’s death came in 2002. It still hits his eldest daughter hard; although her strong faith provides her the comfort that she will see him again. “I miss him every moment of every day,” says Christian, pausing to collect herself. “Probably for a year after he died, I would realize I needed to know something and pick up the phone” to call him.

Dixie Stanforth is a close friend and neighbor, who traces the impact on Christian from her father’s death to Todd’s cycling wreck. “Her father’s death was extremely significant, and started her searching spiritually. Bruce’s accident continued the process, as it really rocked their world. She knows more what she believes now It has given a depth that makes her an even more engaging person.” Christian “absolutely adored” her father, yet now realizes that her move (precipitated by a short-lived marriage) to Los Angeles after graduating from UT’s School of Journalism was, “the best thing I could have done. I had some time to grow my career in a separate arena It allowed me to come home to Austin with good solid credentials.”

Out west she worked for the Los Angeles Times, and then, together with her second husband, owned a newspaper in northern California. Yet, for some, there’s an elephant in the room when it comes to Elizabeth Christian. Namely, is the 55-year-old’s success simply due to her association with two of Austin’s most powerful men? Well, it’s time to show our long-trunked friend the door. Elizabeth Anne Christian (who no one, by the way, ever calls Lizzie, Beth or other diminutives) stands on her own two feet. While her bloodlines as daughter of LBJ’s White House press secretary introduced Christian to the close-knit Johnson family; her hard work, organizational ability and media chops are what have grown her business.

“She has created her own persona, her own awareness,” says longtime Austinite Carl Stuart. “And she’s made it on her own.” The firm has been honored by its industry peers annually; while Christian’s own and many awards include being named a 2009 Girl Scouts Woman of Distinction, an award that “celebrates women of courage, confidence and character who make the world a better place.” As president of Austin’s Headliners Club, she is only the third woman to hold that position; she is on the Board of Visitors for Southwestern University and on the Board of the Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary. In 2004, Christian was named Public Relations Practitioner of the Year by the Texas Public Relations Association; and in 2001, received the Austin Business Journal’s prestigious Profiles in Power award.