Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, May 29, 1994 TAG: 9405290075
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: WARREN FISKE STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: RICHMOND LENGTH: Long
"Ollie knows he can count on me," she says proudly. "When the chips are down, he knows Mrs. Skidmore always comes through."
What she comes through with is money - small checks, at least once a month, that have totaled in the thousands over the past few years. In response to his twice-a-month requests, she has sent 18 checks this year totaling $2,000 for his U.S. Senate campaign. Often she encloses a note to North's wife, Betsy.
Skidmore has never met the Norths. She thinks he may have called a couple of times, but isn't sure whether it was really him or just his recorded voice, thanking her and asking for more.
It would be hard for Oliver North to relay personal thanks to all of the Barbara Skidmores out there. Over the past seven years, he has amassed an army of 130,000 die-hard contributors across the nation who have established him as one of the most successful fund-raisers in American politics today.
Through the combined power of computers and the U.S. Postal Service, North has raised $29.4 million since he became an instant icon by testifying on television about his role in the Iran-Contra scandal in 1987. The money has paid his massive legal bills, allowed him to promote a conservative political agenda across the continent and put him on course for this year's Senate bid.
North also has become a wealthy man. After retiring from the Marines on an annual pension of $23,000, he now has assets of at least $2.3 million.
His fund-raising organization relies heavily on the generosity of senior citizens like Skidmore. Reports filed with the Federal Election Commission suggest that four out of every 10 contributors to North's campaign are retired.
Well over 10 million mass-produced letters bearing North's signature have gone out over the years, cementing not only a right-wing following for the former Marine but also what amounts to a personal fan club.
The letters energize the troops by pressing hot-button conservative issues. But North thrills his admirers with offers of personal portraits, calendars with family pictures and autographed copies of his books in exchange for a donation.
Many of the stirring missives Entering the political battlefield is like every other mission I've ever been on: It's a team effort. You and I need to work together. From an Oliver North campaign solicition mailed in March are not authored by North, but by professional writers and mass mailing experts, sources familiar with the organization admit. Headquartered in an office complex in Sterling, Va., just 20 miles outside of Washington, D.C., the group has a staff of about 10 writers, accountants and secretaries and contracts with several large direct-mail companies.
The organization's clout is deeply felt in Virginia as North moves toward the state Republican convention on Friday and Saturday, the favorite to capture the party's Senate nomination. North already has raised $6 million for the bid, about 84 percent of which came from out of state. Should he win his party's backing, North is raking in money at a pace that would easily break the $17.8 million record for fund-raising by a Senate candidate, set in 1990 by Sen. Jesse Helms, R-N.C.
Asking North to comment on his mailing list is like asking the military to reveal the workings of a top-secret weapon. North and several other generals of the fund-raising empire would not agree to interviews for this article.
"We simply don't comment," said Joseph Choate Jr., a Los Angeles lawyer who was an original trustee for the organization. "This is a confidential thing."
The mailings have recruited troops to participate in a we-versus-them cultural war against "radical homosexuals," "ultra-militant feminists,""the liberal media," and "Washington insiders." Always, there is a solicitation at the end with an attached form and envelope to send in money. Always, North signs his letters with the Marine motto, "Semper Fi," which means "always faithful."
"Money is the ammunition of political warfare," North wrote in March, warning that "left wing pressure groups will spare no effort trying to write my political obituary."
"Entering the political battlefield is like every other mission I've ever been on: It's a team effort," North added. "You and I need to work together."
Star quality
Richard A. Viguerie, a Republican fund-raiser who is managing much of the campaign's direct mail this year, said North has touched a sensitive nerve that prompts many conservatives to respond with their checkbooks and credit cards.
"True conservatives have been searching for a leader since Ronald Reagan left office," he said. "In terms of leadership, we haven't had a person with all the excitement and gravitas of Reagan. Ollie is filling that position. He has that star quality.
"What makes him so strong is that he has personality and character and he stood up to the establishment and persevered. It's a classic story. He's a hero because of the enemies he has."
North likes to describe his following as a grass-roots phenomenon. But evidence suggests that there has been some shrewd planning behind his popularity and his personal fortune, which seem inextricably linked.
According to financial disclosure forms that federal candidates must file, North earned $1.9 million during a 21-month period ending in September 1993. Of that, $1.7 million came from book royalties and speaking fees - estimated at $25,000 an appearance.
Before this year, North's public appearances resembled a bazaar, where he hawked tapes of his Iran-contra testimony, portraits and his best-selling autobiography, "Under Fire." Often hundreds of people would line up before a small table to shake hands with North and buy an autographed copy of the book for $25.
The New Yorker magazine reported earlier this year that North purchased 60,000 copies of the book from his publisher shortly before it went out of print for less than $3 apiece, and made a personal $22 profit for every book sold. A North spokesman declined to comment on the story.
North is also chairman of Guardian Technologies International Inc., a Northern Virginia company he founded in 1989 that manufactures bulletproof vests. It has 23 employees and annual sales of about $2 million.
Industry sources say North's vests are among the finest produced anywhere. But their sales price of about $500 apiece is double what many other vests cost, they add, and as a result North has had difficulty winning public contracts.
Once again, North has relied on his celebrity status to get around the problem. He has struck deals with chapters of the Fraternal Order of Police around the country to help raise private contributions to provide vests for officers. In return, the FOP agrees to buy the vests from his company.
The Virginia FOP has purchased 298 vests from North over the last two years and hopes eventually to raise enough money to buy 3,000. North has appeared at several news conferences touting the "Invest in a Vest" program.
Garth Wheeler, president of the Virginia FOP, acknowledges that North's company was not the low bidder for the contract. "When we gave him the contract, I told him I expected him to make personal appearances," Wheeler said. "We were banking on the fact that when he showed up, the press would come and publicize the program."
Overnight sensation
North has estimated his personal wealth at between $2.3 million and $4.8 million, according to financial disclosure forms. In 1990, he purchased a 194-acre estate in Clarke County that has an assessed value of $1.17 million.
But times weren't so flush for North in late 1986 when news of the Iran-contra scandal broke and Reagan fired him from his post at the National Security Council. North faced a possible prison sentence for lying to Congress, mounting legal bills and the possibility of losing the $23,000-a-year Marine pension he needed to support his wife and four children.
A group of former classmates from North's days at the Naval Academy - whom the campaign declines to identify - made modest efforts at raising money for him.
The breakthrough came in July 1987 when North riveted the nation during six days of televised testimony before a congressional committee investigating Iran-contra. North's portrayal of himself as a lowly lieutenant colonel who followed high White House orders in a war against Communists and terrorists made him an overnight sensation.
As he testified, tens of thousands of letters and telegrams - many bearing cash and checks - began pouring into the office of his attorney, Brendan Sullivan. Many weren't even properly addressed, North said in his autobiography. They were sent to "Oliver North, National Hero," or "Oliver North, Washington, D.C.," and delivered just the same.
The letters filled the mailroom of Sullivan's law firm and overflowed into the basement. With all of North's testimony about death threats from Libyan terrorists, bomb-sniffing dogs were brought in to inspect each day's delivery.
Once during the hearings, Sullivan grew angry at not being allowed to speak. "I'm not a potted plant," he snapped at the senators. The next morning, hundreds of potted plants arrived at the law firm, lining the lobby and corridors.
North's friends from the Naval Academy were overwhelmed. They hired a small staff to open the mail and, eventually, were able to send out thank-you letters in North's name. They also began a computer file listing the names and addresses of contributors.
The friends, however, lacked the time and the know-how to exploit the phenomenon by marketing North or soliciting for new contributors. In the spring of 1988, donations began to stall at $2.5 million.
Meanwhile, other conservative fund-raising groups discovered that North's name was pure gold. More than a dozen - including the Rev. Jerry Falwell's Moral Majority, The Concerned Women of America and The American Freedom Coalition - launched major drives that were supposedly in North's behalf. "Ollie saw very little of the money," said Mark Merritt, North's campaign spokesman.
North decided to get more aggressive. That April, he hired retired Marine Lt. Gen. Edward J. Bronars to direct the North Legal Defense and Family Safety Trust. Under the no-nonsense leadership of Bronars, who would eventually run all of North's fund-raising enterprises prior to the Senate campaign, the Trust signed contracts with direct mail specialists, began trading mailing lists with other conservative causes, started a telephone solicitation campaign and took out full-page advertisements in the Wall Street Journal and USA Today.
Bronars, who in 1981 recommended North for the post at the National Security Council that led to North's involvement in the Iran-contra affair, did not return repeated phone calls.
After paying off his legal debts, North disbanded the group in October 1991. During its 42-month life, the Trust raised $13.3 million, according to records filed with the Virginia Division of Consumer Affairs. Of that amount, $5.3 million went to North's lawyers, $1.3 million paid for security costs such as the bodyguards who frequently accompany North when he travels and $1.5 million covered management expenses.
Another $5.1 million was spent to cover the costs of North's fund-raising activities. Of every $1 contribution North received, he spent 39 cents sending out letters soliciting more money, the records show.
Cultural war
The Trust supplied North with a massive mailing list to start The Freedom Alliance, his next fund-raising endeavor. Established in late 1989 to "promote a strong national defense, maintain traditional values at home and counter the left-wing dominated media," the Alliance became the national organ for North's conservative political views.
In a monthly newsletter, North has warned that "Americans who cherish family values and the importance of personal responsibility are losing the cultural war to elites, liberal extremists and advocates of immorality, obscenity and alternative lifestyles."
He has described President Bill Clinton as "the point man . . . for the radical homosexual lobby," called for Supreme Court justices who have a strict interpretation of the Constitution, advocated school prayer and has denounced environmentalists as those "who would rather spill blood than oil."
The Alliance raised a total of $9.2 million between 1989 and 1992, according to federal tax records. It reinvested $3.3 million of that amount - or 36 percent - into its direct-mail and fund-raising efforts.
One of the group's major efforts has been to battle homosexuals. The group delivered more than 25,000 petitions to Congress and the White House protesting Clinton's plans to allow gays in the military.
It also gathered thousands of proxies from shareholders of Time Warner Inc. in 1992 to help pressure the company to stop the release of the record "Cop Killer" by the rap group Body Count.
North appears to have exaggerated some of the Alliance's deeds. In early 1991, the Alliance launched a major fund-raising drive to send personal supplies such as magazines, sunglasses and hygiene items to American soldiers in Operation Desert Storm. In his book "One More Mission," North boasts that $3 million worth of goods were shipped. But on its 1991 tax statement, the Alliance listed the value of the goods at $668,000.
Merritt said the goods had a wholesale value of $3 million and the lower figure listed on the tax statement reflects the reduced cost at which the Alliance was able to purchase the supplies.
The Alliance also wasn't above using one of the tricks that North once complained about: raising money under someone else's name without permission. During 1991, the group sold color portraits of Gen. H. Norman Schwarzkopf, the commander of Operation Desert Storm. An incensed Schwarzkopf, who had not authorized the use of his picture, demanded that the fund-raising effort stop.
North, who had been receiving a $60,000 salary from the Alliance, resigned as the group's president last September to concentrate on his Senate race.
While the Alliance continued with its fund raising, North started a political action committee called V-PAC in late 1991. The group's stated purpose was to raise money "in support of, or opposition to, candidates or ballot issues." Of the $890,000 the committee has raised, only about $50,000 has been contributed to federal candidates and about another $20,000 was donated to state and local Republicans seeking election in Virginia last year, including Gov. George Allen.
The more important aim of the committee, said Merritt, was to raise money to finance North's travel around Virginia in 1992 and 1993 to appear at fund-raisers for Republican candidates for the House of Delegates.
His appearances usually drew capacity crowds and led to fund-raising bonanzas for local politicians. Merritt estimates that North's appearances reaped more than $500,000 for GOP candidates last year.
North did not go unrewarded for his efforts. In return for his travel, he was able to secure the backing of hundreds of top party leaders across the state for his Senate campaign this year.
"People would like to think there's been some kind of master theme between the Iran-Contra hearings and this year's Senate race," Merritt said. "But it's not true. The fact is, there's been so much demand for Ollie."
Reaping the rewards
Merritt acknowledges, however, that the mailing list North cultivated over the years has been the base of North's record-breaking fund raising this year. And records indicate that North has been pushing that base harder than ever.
The campaign spent nearly $500,000 a month during the first quarter of 1994 on direct-mail activities, according to federal disclosures. Out of every $1 it received in contributions, the campaign spent nearly 50 cents sending out more mail.
Herbert Alexander, a campaign finance expert from the University of Southern California, said direct mail campaigns typically spend 35 percent of their revenues raising money. North's high costs, he suggested, may indicate an early effort to expand his list by writing to new potential contributors.
The costs have staggering implications for North and his supporters. North has set his sights on raising an unprecedented $20 million before the Nov. 2 general election. But to reach that amount, he may have to spend between $8 million and $10 million on direct mail.
There has been a tone of urgency to North's campaign mail. "My biggest concern right now is to raise a minimum of $350,000 for early television and other media advertising," North wrote in January.
North has yet to air a television commercial and has done only limited radio and newspaper advertising. But on March 2, he wrote that he needed another $500,000 for "early TV and other advertising" in "the next 20 days."
The money, Merritt explained, has helped North film television ads that will run later this year.
In March, North wrote that he needed "emergency" contributions of $391,500. The purpose was to pay for 1.35 million letters he planned to send in response to "Sen. Howard Metzenbaum (D-Ohio) and liberals in the national media who have launched a major attack against me and my campaign." "There are about 350,000 letters ready to take to the Post Office," North said, "but we can't because we don't have the money for postage."
For a $40 contribution, North has offered to send a copy of his book, "One More Mission." For a $50 contribution, he will send a portrait of his family. North's wife, Betsy, has also sent out several direct-mail letters soliciting funds.
The pitches seem to have a special effect on elderly people. "That's true in most direct-mail enterprises," Viguerie said. "People over 55 have the most disposable income."
Larry Sabato, a University of Virginia political scientist, offers a more cynical explanation. Direct mail "fools a lot of elderly people into thinking they are receiving personal letters," Sabato said. "This is why I think direct mail is the most corrupt of all campaign fund-raising endeavors."
Merritt said the North campaign is not any more reliant than its competitors on contributions from the elderly. "It cuts across the board," he said. Records show, however, that incumbent Democratic U.S. Sen. Charles Robb has received only 7 percent of his contributions from retirees. GOP rival Jim Miller listed only 14 percent of his donors as retired.
Random interviews with seven retired North contributors produced an average age of 79.
Estelle Trousdale, a 76-year-old retired widow from Somerset, Tex., has sent 10 contributions totaling $425 this year. The local bank called her recently to suggest she might be sending more than she can afford.
"They were trying to be nice, but they thought I was a fool," she said. "I'm not going to call it quits, although I do need to slow down because I don't have a whole bunch of money."
Over the years, records indicate, North has aggressively traded his mailing list with other conservative groups. Many of his supporters say that since they began helping North, they have been deluged by fund-raising requests from other causes.
"Oh God, it's terrible," said Skidmore, the widow from Indiana, who estimates she receives 50 such letters a month. "I've asked the post office if they can do something about it. . . . I usually throw all the letters away, except Ollie's. He's special."
Keywords:
PROFILE POLITICS
by CNB