ROANOKE TIMES 
                      Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times

DATE: Thursday, February 13, 1997            TAG: 9702130053
SECTION: VIRGINIA                 PAGE: C-1  EDITION: METRO 
DATELINE: RICHMOND
SOURCE: GREG WEATHERFORD LANDMARK NEWS SERVICE


STEP RIGHT UP AND WATCH A BILL BECOME A LAW

THE BEST SHOW in Virginia may be watching the General Assembly in action.

All you have to do to get a seat is show up - and find a parking space.

Estelle Taylor sits on a maroon upholstered bench in the Virginia Capitol, peers at the raucous crowd of lawmakers gathered in rows on the Senate floor below, and watches as they build the state's laws.

"I have a love of this Capitol and the state of Virginia and the governing body," says Taylor, 70, explaining why she took the day off from her job as a vice president of a Chesterfield County credit union to come watch the legislature.

"I like being here," she adds. "It gives you a good feeling. I love the building because it's beautiful and because it's the Capitol of the state of Virginia."

Taylor's in good company. Every day while the General Assembly is in session, thousands of people file into the galleries some 15 feet above lawmakers' seats. High school students, lobbyists, tourists, curiosity seekers and those obsessed with government gather here.

In the whispered confines of the balcony galleries, Tommy Hilfiger mixes with Brooks Brothers. Buttons sporting anti-abortion messages face off with buttons lauding rock 'n' roll bands.

In a tradition as old as democracy itself, visitors watch from the front rows as lawmakers bicker, bargain, swap stories and vote.

Beyond the occasional difficulty of finding a parking place near Capitol Square, nothing bars easy access. No metal detectors or police searches, no reservations or passes. All people have to do is show up.

"It's a very important symbol of the openness of government, the accessibility of government," the Senate's presiding officer, Lt. Gov. Don Beyer, says of the public galleries, which he can see as he presides from his dais. When citizens can watch laws being made and can buttonhole their legislators in the hallways, he adds, government "isn't far-off, distant, removed."

"It's very real and very human and very personal."

And, Beyer points out, lawmaking can be good theater.

"The people we elect tend to have large, colorful personalities," he says. "They tell stories, they can quote Shakespeare and the Bible - and they'll use them all on the Senate floor."

The interchange among the politicians, says longtime General Assembly observer Catherine Giordano, "has much more nuances than the best chess game in the world. .. I'm in sales, and watching them work is like going for a Ph.D."

Two for the show

Admission to this show is free, and all are welcome - as long as seats are available. The public galleries for the Senate and House of Delegates each seat about 90 people, and often are filled with sightseers and student groups. About 30 seats in each gallery officially are reserved for legislators' spouses and other VIPs.

On this day, Giordano, a Virginia Beach resident and former chairwoman of the state Alcoholic Beverage Control Board, is watching for bills that might affect government procurement procedures.

She's also watching House Speaker Tom Moss, whom she calls a friend, as he marshals the legislative troops and tries to get the people's business accomplished. Far below Giordano's perch, he rattles off bill titles with an auctioneer's cadence and confidence.

"Speaker Moss brings a very contemporary attitude toward the environment of making law," Giordano says in an admiring whisper. "His ability to keep humor as part of it ... is what's impressed me."

Others come for other reasons. Michael Collins, 34, an elevator maker from Winchester, is in Richmond to support a bill requiring annual elevator inspections.

His purple knit shirt bears an AFL-CIO name tag. As a union member, he's come to the General Assembly for years. Though he says his close observations haven't made him cynical about the lawmaking process, he evinces a certain jaded practicality. The No.1 lesson he's learned about politics and lawmaking: "You gotta have a good aide." Aides, Collins says, often tell legislators how to vote on the hundreds of bills streaming through the capitol. "A lot of times," he adds, "these guys sign off on stuff that they're not even aware that they're on."

Openness endangered?

Day by day, the crowds ebb and flow in the galleries. At times, the benches fill with tourists and high school students - some of whom whisper loudly or drift to sleep. Other times, the benches sit vacant for an hour or so.

Students, lobbyists, business people: The assembly's doorkeepers see them all. Jim Melvin, who often sports a snappy bow tie, has opened the House's gallery doors for seven years, ever since he retired from Virginia Power at 55. His companion in the gallery is Capitol policeman Chip Canady. The officer records each day's bills and how they fared so he can keep visitors informed.

On the other side of the Capitol, doorkeeper Carrington Goode, 79, helps run the Senate gallery, as he has for the seven years since retiring as a department store manager.

"It's all right," he says of his job. "You meet some interesting people."

Some are particularly memorable: A few years ago, Beyer recalls, a man "fell down on his knees and started praising the Lord."

"He had to be carried out of there by four police officers," Beyer says.

As Goode says, "They drug him out. He didn't want to go."

That's about as ticklish as things have been, say those interviewed for this story. But some worry that times may change - that the threat of violence may shut the assembly's open doors.

Last year, a man drove onto the Capitol grounds and up to the Executive Mansion with a rifle. And though most states' legislative offices remain accessible, visitors to the U.S. Congress now must file through metal detectors.

Perhaps, some observers say, the day of truly open-door government is in its twilight.

"We live in a difficult world where people take assault weapons to the White House, where letter bombs are in the mail," Beyer says. "I just pray that we continue the state of affairs where there have been no disruptions. We would lose this great openness, where all who choose to be part of the process can be.

"It's really of the people, by the people and for the people."


LENGTH: Long  :  118 lines
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO:  JAY PAUL. Fourth-graders from Taylor Elementary in 

Norfolk watch lawmakers in the House of Delegates in Richmond.

color. KEYWORDS: GENERAL ASSEMBLY 1997

by CNB