Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, November 9, 1994 TAG: 9411090108
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A-7 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: ALEC KLEIN STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: RICHMOND LENGTH: Medium
Defiant to the end, Oliver North conceded defeat Tuesday but never mentioned his foe, U.S. Sen. Charles Robb.
"If you keep your trust in the Lord, stand together and stay together, we can take back our government," North told a crowd of more than 2,000 ardent supporters.
Disheartened but clinging to hope, Republican faithful at the Richmond Center chanted, ``'96, '96,'' urging North to run again.
The moment was fleeting.
A pall of blank looks already had spread over the crowd: They knew it was over long before North walked on stage to concede defeat.
The band sounded too hollow. "Ollie" signs hung limp. Chatter stalled in the cavernous Richmond Center, making the 2,000-strong crowd seem smaller.
"In a way, there is a sense of emptiness," said Linda Teets, a North volunteer from Warrenton, standing in disbelief in the background.
"I can't believe how fickle and how stupid Virginia voters are," said Marj Praml, a Winchester substitute teacher whose face had turned red from crying. "I get more intelligence out of my sixth-graders."
Well after defeat was a certainty, North remained cloistered in his hotel room at The Jefferson in downtown Richmond, where he got a haircut surrounded by his extended family.
"Things are a mess right now," said a close aide in North's room.
Campaign spokesman Mark Merritt was not prepared to throw in the towel until the final tallies trickled in.
"Wait for the mountain vote," he said of Western Virginia.
Supporters mingled aimlessly on the floor of the convention center, waiting for North to fill a vacant platform set against the backdrop of an American flag. There was no outward anger, little sign of the fervor that swelled in the candidate's wake on the stump.
The sound of commentators droning from speakers washed out worried whispers.
"I've gotten to the point I rarely drink any more, but I felt like I really need one tonight," mumbled a supporter passing through the crowd.
Hands buried deep in his suit pant pockets, Michael Layell of Henrico lifted his eyes at the numbers flashing across the television monitor.
"It's still kind of early," the Christian bookstore clerk said hopefully. "This is really important to me. I've been a Republican since I was in the ninth grade. It just hurts."
by CNB