Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, June 12, 1995 TAG: 9506120096
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: ROBERT LITTLE STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: RICHMOND LENGTH: Long
Not when they're the oldest member of the General Assembly and haven't lost an election in 24 years. Certainly not when they're among the House of Delegates' power-wielding elite.
But there Ball sat Wednesday, in a middle school library, dodging debate-style blows with Donald McEachin, a high-powered lawyer and fellow Democrat with a mocking irreverence toward Ball's seniority.
You'd have thought Ball was getting the hotfoot.
``He should be supporting me,'' he snarled every so often.
``If he really cares about this district, he should want me in office.''
Democrats in the Virginia legislature aren't exactly smug these days - they hold just a three-seat majority in both houses. And most are primping for a November election that could invert the party power for the first time in modern history.
But for much of June interest has focused on Richmond's northeast suburbs, where Ball's primary election on Tuesday has the potential for a precursory rattle of the political establishment.
McEachin is a hulking man, long in the wallet and skilled with the handshake. Richmonders know him for his law firm's late-night television commercials - and now, perhaps, as Bob Ball's bane.
It's not that observers expect McEachin to win. Most offer him begrudging respect, then predict Ball's familiarity and clout will prevail.
But McEachin, who is black, has sprinkled seeds that could sprout into a grassroots coalition within the majority-black district, which was created four years ago to boost blacks' voting power. And he's done it without the blessings of the region's political chiefs.
``We're going up against the epitome of the party establishment here, and he doesn't like it,'' opined Beth Shipp, a campaign consultant working for McEachin. ``A lot of people don't like it.''
Ball, 78, is certainly no tenderfoot in the state's political coterie, having risen to the chairmanship of the House Appropriations Committee, with a claim to the government purse strings. The retired hotel and real estate investor, sometimes brash and abrupt, has become a powerful insider by sheer longevity. And he isn't too shy to admit it.
What Republicans call pork, he flouts with pride - $1 million for Charles City schools, $20 million in Henrico, $26 million for Richmond. Ball brought it all home, he's proud to say, and there's more where that came from.
So when a novice like McEachin starts questioning his relative sway, Ball practically boils with consternation. ``He just doesn't understand,'' Ball said last week. ``He doesn't know how things work around here.''
Consider the candidate forum last Wednesday organized by a district civic league. McEachin, nearly a foot taller than Ball, sat to the right, the crowd stacked with his relatives and supporters. He can do everything Ball can do, McEachin said more than once. Seniority be damned.
Ball, glasses low, swiveled in his chair, sucked an imaginary lemon and threw his arms toward all points of the district.
``This jail up here,'' he'd sputter. Or ``that road down there.'' ``The commons out here.''
``I work for things in this district. Seniority's what counts - you have to stay there over time and work your way up.''
McEachin, meanwhile, folded his arms, rumpled his brow or frowned into his fists in towering silence. And every few minutes, he'd calmly erupt.
``Yes, that's almost true,'' he'd begin, quiet and paced.
Or ``allow me to explain why he's misleading you.''
And the one that goaded Ball to an exasperated chuckle: ``Don't let him catch you betwixt and between with these answers here.''
Most black legislators, civic groups, political figures - even the area's dominant black newspaper - have endorsed Ball, who is white. And most offer the same explanation: Ball is a powerful legislator who can help parry Republican Gov. George Allen. Race, they say, is comparatively trivial.
``You're scrapping the chairman of Appropriations for a person who's going to be on Militias and Police?'' said Sen. Benjamin J. Lambert III, a Richmond Democrat and member of the legislative black caucus. ``You can't let race be an issue in something like that.''
Still, Ball is said to be seeking his last term in office, and well-connected black politicians - like former Richmond Mayor Walter T. Kenney - are already whispered as successors. The 74th House district, which includes Charles City County and parts of Henrico and Richmond, has a 60 percent minority population.
But while the established powers wait for an easy claim to Ball's seat, McEachin has struck out on his own. He converges on two issues that carry a particular ring in black neighborhoods: Ball voted for this year's welfare-reform package that all 13 black legislators opposed, and he helped abolish parole.
The Republicans, meanwhile, watch in fitful glee. Their candidate, Gordon Prior, nearly toppled Ball two years ago and is arming for a rematch. The district is not the friendliest territory for Republicans, so the more Ball and McEachin carve each other up the better.
Republican Party executive director Dave Johnson said he hopes the two Democrats will clash like pro football powerhouses.
``Good game, plenty of injuries,'' he said. ``That's what's best for us.''
Then he paused. ``Political injuries, of course. Nothing personal, just politics.''
by CNB