THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, September 8, 1994 TAG: 9409080497
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Realpolitik
Occasional dispatches on the offbeat side of Virginia's 1994 U.S. Senate
race.
SOURCE: BY KERRY DOUGHERTY, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: HAMPDEN-SYDNEY LENGTH: Medium: 97 lines
Not since the Bass Co. shareholders last met have there been so many Weejuns in a single room.
And with them came the terrifying sound of hundreds of pairs of penny loafers stomping in unison.
``Ol-lie, Ol-lie, Ol-lie,'' came the chant from a field house full of white guys dressed almost identically in button-down shirts, rep ties, short haircuts and shiny leather shoes. Think of ``Animal House'' meets ``Mr. Smith Wants To Go To Washington.''
``Give me an O, Give me an L, Give me another L . . . ''
The thunderous noise rocked the wooden gymnasium floor, drowning out all attempts at conversation as the crowd in the packed Kirby Field House awaited the U.S. Senate debate Tuesday night.
Moderator Judy Woodruff threatened to take time away from Oliver North during the debate if his supporters could not control themselves.
Finally, even the president of Hampden-Sydney, Samuel V. Wilson, was compelled to take to the microphone.
``The ver-ah hon-ah of this place is at stake,'' the college president scolded. ``I have promised four ver-ah distinguished gentlemen that we would provide a dignified forum . . . . The best thing we can do is sit on our hands throughout the debate.
``I know I can count on you.'' Ver-ah sure he could.
And so the mob quieted. Until Ollie shed his suit jacket.
``North, North, North,'' they roared.
And when he rolled up his sleeves, they did it again.
In the moments before cameras began to roll, the candidates stood pensively at their podiums, perusing their notes, surveying the crowd.
Ollie North, with his aw-shucks demeanor, was trying to look humble, but a grin kept sneaking onto his face as though at heart he was one of the frat boys himself, giddy with pranks about to be played on his fellow candidates. He gave several thumbs-up signs to his supporters, as if to test their lung capacity.
The partisan crowd (could all of their daddies have gotten rich under Reagan?), powered by testosterone and affection for Ollie, managed, just barely, to keep their ardor under control.
In a rare, lighthearted moment during the debate, Robb joked about the absence of Democrats at the college, saying that there had been a Democrat at Hampden-Sydney four years ago - and that when he left, ``he took the Democratic Club with him.''
The remark drew some of the loudest cheers he received all night.
There were other memorable moments: Bursts of Wilder's stiletto wit, Coleman displaying his encyclopedic knowledge of the issues (or was it just his impersonation of an encyclopedia salesman?), North managing not to look nuts.
But most memorable of all was Sen. Chuck Robb, threatening to take food out of the mouths of widows and orphans to fix the federal deficit.
It was the unforgettable sound bite of the night, one that will surely dog the senator wherever he goes for the next eight weeks.
Pity Robb's poor spin doctors. Their patient seems bent on suicide.
``He was very aggressive,'' Robb campaign aide Peggy Wilhide said approvingly after the debate. ``He did much better than he did at the Homestead.''
Better? What a relative world is the political one. For the only way Robb could have looked worse than he did at Hot Springs in July would have been if he were wheeled onto the Hampden-Sydney stage on a gurney. He spent most of that mercifully untelevised July debate slumped in a chair while his three opponents took turns pummeling him.
`` `Widows and orphans' is just an expression,'' Wilhide continued, smiling gamely. ``It's not necessarily the terminology I would have picked, but it's just an expression.''
Nice to get a glimpse into how members of the Senate refer to the peasantry, isn't it?
Once the cameras clicked off, the Ollie Chorus picked up its refrain. Mobs of people swarmed onto the stage, autograph hounds elbowed reporters and television camera people. Candidates and handlers were predictably delighted with the debate. Robb's camp kept saying he had been on the offensive. The independents claimed victory.
And North? He was heading for the door. A rally in his honor was under way outside. Or was it just another pledge week social?
North mounted a podium and delivered his SOS (same old speech). It worked as well in the Weejun region as it does at the American Legion Hall.
``Robb was right: There aren't any Democrats at Hampden-Sydney,'' boasted Republican Club president Rick Broughton, a senior political science major headed for law school next year. ``I don't even think there were any here four years ago.''
The Republican party claims some hefty numbers at the pricy private men's school. Out of a student body of 950, about 150 are members of the Republican Club. Even more belong to Students for North, Ollie's statewide college support group.
Think about it. That adds up to a lot of penny loafers marching for North.
KEYWORDS: SENATE RACE CANDIDATES DEBATE by CNB