Washington Babylon — February 2, 2009, 5:47 pm

That Was Fast: Obama staffer lands on his feet in private sector

Jeff Berman, the national delegate director for the Obama presidential campaign, has a new job:

The international law firm Bryan Cave LLP (www.bryancave.com) announced today that Jeff Berman has joined the firm’s Public Policy & Governmental Affairs group in its Washington, D.C., office.

“Jeff will join Broderick Johnson and other government affairs staff at our firm in providing strategic counsel on emerging public policies at the White House, federal agencies and Capitol Hill, plus in state and local governments around the country,” said Don Lents, chairman of Bryan Cave. “Jeff’s legal and political background and nationwide network of government and political relationships will be of enormous value to our public-entity, corporate, association and nonprofit clients.”

Prior to joining Bryan Cave, Berman served as the national delegate director for the Obama presidential campaign, leading the historic effort to assemble the 2008 delegate majority to nominate Barack Obama for president…At the National Convention, Berman oversaw the development of the 2008 Democratic Party platform…

In addition to his work in politics, Berman has spent many years in private practice in Washington, D.C. Berman advises clients on legislative and regulatory matters before Congress, the White House, the Department of Homeland Security, Department of Transportation, Department of Energy, Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, Federal Communications Commission, Food and Drug Administration, National Transportation Safety Board and other departments and agencies. His experience also includes the negotiation of agreements that are subject to compliance with federal regulations and international agreements.

Check out some of the firm’s lobbying clients over the years, from the American Chemistry Council and Bank of America to JP Morgan and Comcast. (Of course, Berman will only be providing strategic counsel.)

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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