Hosting presidential candidate Rep. Michele Bachmann at Trident Technical College last month, Rep. Tim Scott displayed the coolness and quick wits that have made him one of the fastest-rising stars in Washington.

Called on to ask Bachmann a question, a conservative activist named Sheri Irwin launched into a passionate rant against illegal immigration. While many lawmakers might have allowed a constituent to vent for a minute or two, Scott immediately moved to cut Irwin off.

Flashing the broad smile that's quickly become a fixture on Capitol Hill, Scott calmly but repeatedly asked Irwin to sit down.

"Thank you so much, Sheri," the First District congressman said. "Have a seat, Sheri. Thank you so much. If you continue to talk, I'll continue to talk. Have a seat, Sheri. Thank you so much."

As Irwin finally sat down and the audience applauded, Scott pivoted and, still smiling, said to Bachmann: "I think she's focusing on an issue we all care about, but for the sake of the audience who showed up to hear from you, Michele, I want the focus to be on you."

A few minutes later, Bachmann, a Minnesota Republican, embraced Scott and exclaimed to the cheering crowd: "All of us in Washington, D.C., are extremely proud of you for choosing the right man to send from Charleston to Washington, D.C.! We love his stuff!"

In just eight months, Rep. Tim Scott has skyrocketed from state legislator to House Republican freshman class leader who stood up to his party bosses in high-profile debt talks and is heading his party's attack on federal economic bureaucrats.

The GOP-controlled House on Sept. 15 passed Scott's bill weakening the National Labor Relations Board by ending its bid to prevent Boeing's operation of a North Charleston plant and banning it from controlling where other firms do business.

Now, as the GOP presidential campaign moves into high gear, Scott is hosting Republican candidates at "Tim's Town Halls" in his coastal congressional district, which, until redistricting changes its boundaries, stretches from Charleston County to Horry County.

Scott's rise reflects his keen intelligence, winning personality and intriguing biography. The youngest of three boys, he's the son of a single mom and grew up poor in North Charleston. There, he built a successful insurance business and launched a political career as that rarest of breeds - a black Republican.

Not an 'angry white guy'

The visits of Bachmann, Texas Gov. Rick Perry, former Utah Gov. Jon Huntsman and former Godfathers Pizza CEO Herman Cain to Scott's district in recent weeks reflect more than his state's elevated political status as home to the first-in-the-South GOP presidential primary.

Elected with Allen West of Florida last November as the only two African-American Republicans in Congress, Scott's ascent is significant for a party eager to shed its image as, in the words of Sen. Lindsey Graham, "the party of angry white guys."

The photographs and videos of GOP White House aspirants locking hands with Scott and holding arms aloft may be more important to them than to him.

"The Republican Party will cease to exist if it can't attract black and brown voters," said Kerry L. Haynie, a Duke University political scientist and African-American studies professor. "The party has finally begun to recruit black candidates as a reaction to the rapidly changing landscape in this county. Tim Scott is an example. I think we'll see more of that."

A deeply religious man, Scott downplays the importance of his race in his current post.

"I've been black for (all my) 46 years, so it's kind of hard for me to step out of my own skin and say what role it plays in the eyes of other people," Scott said in an interview in his Charleston office.

Unlike West, Scott declined to join the Congressional Black Caucus, saying he campaigned on "themes that unite all Americans."

Like the three other South Carolina Republicans swept into Congress - Reps. Muck Mulvaney, Jeff Duncan and Trey Gowdy - Scott campaigned on the need to slash government spending, cut the federal deficit and enact a constitutional amendment requiring a balanced budget.

Scott also joined the others in pushing for repeal of "ObamaCare," the landmark health-insurance plan enacted by the then-Democratic-controlled Congress in March 2010.

"Tim is just universally well-regarded up here," said Mulvaney of Lancaster County. "... For those of us who know him, his race doesn't enter the calculation."

Scott's self-assessment is equally straightforward.

"My lineup is - I'm a Christian first, everything else falls after that," he said. "So there's really no comparison between being a Christian and being black for me. I think I'm male and black and a conservative Christian who happens to be Republican. All those things go together, and they all serve a greater purpose. My purpose is to positively impact the lives of a billion people with a message of hope and opportunity."

Scott said he feels no special obligation to draw other blacks to his party. Flashing his trademark humor, he delivered a barb at one of his favorite targets, saying President Barack Obama is driving more blacks to the GOP fold than he himself could persuade.

Scott said last year during his congressional campaign that he had fared well with black voters, drawing a quarter or more of their votes in his earlier general elections for Charleston County Council and the S.C. House.

The specific racial breakdown of votes in those races wasn't available, but the U.S. Justice Department, in its successful 2001 lawsuit against the county, rejected the county's claims that Scott's election was proof that it didn't need to move to district-based elections in order to create more diversity on the council.

The department said African-Americans' voting patterns suggested they didn't share Scott's views.

"I don't know too many other black folks who think like Tim," said the Rev. Joseph Darby, an influential civil rights leader as head minister at the Morris Brown African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston. "He represents the aspirations people in South Carolina with whom I have no affinity and with whom very few people of color have any affinity."

Darby said Scott's stances have dismayed many of his black constituents.

"The tea party is a new version of the Ku Klux Klan that's sanitized and more acceptable," Darby said. "No more sheets - just tea bags and colonial garb."

During his campaign last year, Scott dismissed such criticism as "stereotyping a diverse group of Americans."

Haynie, the Duke political scientist, said Scott's desire to downplay his race is naive.

"Black people in general, but certainly black politicians, don't have the luxury of being a politician first or a Republican first and then a black," Haynie said. "Regardless of how Scott might want to see himself, that's not how he's going to be perceived."

Future aspirations

Just as he de-emphasizes his race these days, Scott downplays his significance in the current White House contest.

"I want the voters in my district and throughout the state to have an opportunity to hear from the candidates - and to actually hear more from them than simply a 60-second response in a debate or a TV commercial," Scott said.

Scott was asked whether his presidential forums reflect ambition for higher office - the governor's mansion, a U.S. Senate seat or even the VP slot on the Republican White House ticket next year.

Scott ruled out running in 2014 against Graham, a relative GOP moderate seen by some as being vulnerable to a Republican primary challenge.

Scott said 2016 is too far away to know whether he'll run to replace Sen. Jim DeMint, if the tea party favorite follows through on plans to leave Washington after two terms.

Scott, who worships at Seacoast Church, an evangelical nondenominational mega-church in Mount Pleasant, said he's not even certain his long-term future lies in politics.

"One thing that I am very interested in is helping to make this world better, whether I can do that in one neighborhood or one town or one state or one nation or the entire world," he said. "That really trumps my position in politics."

Scott's decision to vote against Speaker John Boehner's compromise measures to raise the debt ceiling in late July prompted speculation that he'd harmed his future in the House leadership.

Boehner, though, was the chief roaster Wednesday night at a Capitol Hill birthday bash for Scott, who had turned 46 two days earlier.

"I'd say that my relationship (with Boehner) is healthier than it has been, and it was pretty healthy before," Scott said.