Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, February 28, 1994 TAG: 9402280044
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE:
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Jones is a black, Ivy League-educated Democrat from urban Norfolk. McDonnell is a white Republican from the Virginia Beach suburbs who got his degree at Pat Robertson's Regent University.
Jones sits in the notorious "Coffin Corner" of the House of Delegates - the equivalent of that hallway in high school where cool kids made animal noises at passing dweebs.
McDonnell sits at the extreme opposite end of the chamber, where earnest young Republicans leap to their feet involuntarily at any mention of the five letters a-b-o-r-t.
So it was about like seeing Pat Buchanan hug a tree last week when McDonnell took the floor of the House to make a speech in praise of Jones. Especially because he was lauding Jones for something McDonnell hotly opposes: riverboat gambling.
"I applauded him for following through in a detailed and professional manner something he really believed in," McDonnell said later. "The fact that I didn't support it doesn't diminish my respect for his efforts."
Riverboat gambling sank by a vote of 55-42, of course, but Jones' efforts aren't finished. He continues to probe for ways to get the matter back before the House. He thinks he has the votes now if he can resurrect it. But then, of course, he'd have to overcome the Senate.
One thing at a time. Jones knew it would be an upstream run when he introduced riverboats two years ago. In 1992, he couldn't even get the House to study the concept.
"I could not get one person - not one person - to co-patron the legislation. It was as if I was asking them to sign the Communist Manifesto. They would walk out of the room if I walked in," he said.
But the proposal did catch the fancy of Tom Moss, the speaker of the House. Moss used his considerable command over the forces of time and space to order that the legislature study riverboat gambling. The conclusion was that the state could make some real cash by permitting it.
So this year, Jones threw himself into the bill with such verve that it caught the eye of friend and foe alike. For a delegate of only six years' standing to take such a momentous bill so far so fast establishes a big-league reputation that will be a challenge to maintain.
"I know from sitting here how hard he worked," McDonnell said, gesturing from his doorway to Jones'. "There was a constant stream of people in and out of that office working on that bill."
Jones says he went after the bill with single-minded zeal because he truly believes it is the quickest, best way to make up for the losses of military and shipbuilding jobs in Hampton Roads brought on by federal defense cutbacks.
"From where I stand," Jones said, "it is some proactivity to help deal with the situation in a responsible way. And unless somebody comes up with a better idea - I don't know. I don't know. This is my effort . . . It saddens me that the legislature didn't respond."
The legislature did respond, just not as Jones wanted. The House gave him a standing ovation after McDonnell's speech of praise.
McDonnell wouldn't mind a return of the favor. Two days before the riverboat gambling vote, the House struck down his effort to commission a study on another touchy issue: giving tax breaks to parents who send their children to private schools.
"I was extremely disappointed," McDonnell said. "I just couldn't for the life of me understand why people in the General Assembly are scared to look at an issue like school choice. I'd been feeling pretty bad about that, and I could read the disappointment in Jerrauld, so I thought I'd get up and tell him he did a good job."
Keywords:
GENERAL ASSEMBLY 1994
by CNB