THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Monday, November 7, 1994 TAG: 9411070073
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A4 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Real Politik
SOURCE: BY KERRY DOUGHERTY, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: VIRGINIA BEACH LENGTH: Long : 106 lines
Occasional dispatches on the offbeat side of Virginia's 1994 U.S. Senate race.
Sunday afternoon. Somewhere in the Resort City a guy named Keith popped a can of Budweiser, grabbed the remote control and sank into his Barcolounger just as the telephone rang.
``Hello Keith, this is Ollie North calling,'' said the voice on the phone. ``Fine, thanks, but I'd be doing better if I could get your vote on Tuesday. Hey thanks buddy, 'preciate your support.''
North flipped to the next likely voter on his list. ``It takes a lot of guts to make calls in the middle of the Redskins game,'' he muttered.
It was crunch time in the U.S Senate race. North had flown into Hampton Roads with big guns George Allen and Bob Dole to try to score with voters.
By mid-afternoon the scene in Republican Party Headquarters looked like an MCI commercial gone mad.
Picture a phone bank of fire engine red telephones being manned by the likes of North, Allen and Dole and local politicians. The politicos were trapped in a cramped room, surrounded by several dozen members of the press with notebooks churning, tape recorders buzzing and cameras clicking. Everyone was talking simultaneously.
``Hello Trisha, this is Ollie North,'' North said smiling into the phone. ``I'd like to challenge you and Richard to vote for me on Tuesday and get five of your friends to do the same.''
Trisha said she would, but first she wanted to chat. Just his luck - a football widow.
``You know Trisha, it's easy to be a father, that's biology,'' North said, as the press started giggling. ``It's tough to be a dad.''
What in the world was Trisha talking about? And she wasn't through, either, she wanted to talk Social Security. Meanwhile Dole and Allen were burning up the lines.
``What's the area code here?'' Dole demanded, after dialing and redialing a number.
The governor was scoring big with his calls, until he tried Jeff.
``Hello, Jeff, this is George Allen calling. Oh, this isn't Jeff?'' he said, laughing. ``You're not registered to vote? Oh, in Louisiana.''
``Well, vote absentee for Republicans then,'' Allen said pleasantly. ``And welcome to Virginia.''
Allen used his calls to catch football scores.
``Find out how the Redskins are doing,'' Allen prompted North when he heard Ollie apologize for interrupting a game.
``The Jets are beating Buffalo,'' Allen announced after one of his calls.
Adding to the commotion was the office's main phone, set within spitting distance of Allen.
``Republican headquarters, George Allen speaking,'' he said whenever it rang. ``Yes, this is the governor. No, really it is. Honest. I'm sitting here with Ollie North and Leader Dole. I'm done with all my calls and now I'm just the general receptionist.''
Finally Trisha bid Ollie farewell and Ollie made half a dozen more calls - all ended with promises of votes.
After about 30 minutes the trio boarded the campaign Winnebago and headed to the airport where a chartered plane was waiting to fly them to Richmond.
HAMPTON ROADS WAS A HOT SPOT for campaigning on Sunday.
Robb came to worship and Coleman came to wash cars.
The 8:30 a.m. bone-shaking, earth-quaking service at Norfolk's Faith Deliverance Christian Church was Robb's second stop of the day.
And the morning's message couldn't have been more appropriate for the man who looked hopeless until two weeks ago: miracles.
``I must be a true disciple,'' sang out Bishop Barbara Marie Amos from behind a clear lucite pulpit, and looking directly at Robb. ``I have always been a friend of the underdog.''
She preached of loaves and fishes, the parting of the Red Sea, George Foreman and Chuck Robb.
One of the people clapping hardest for divine intervention was Robb. Rythmn-impaired, but clapping nonetheless.
``I would never, ever tell you who to vote for,'' Amos said, smiling slyly. ``I would never ever tell you that traveling North could be very dangerous.''
At that the faithful leapt to their feet with shouts of ``tell it, sister''.
In closing, Amos admonished the congregation that ``Whatever God gives you is enough to get the job done,'' to which Robb could be seen nodding his head and whispering ``amen.''
Volunteers were passing out Robb bumper stickers and campaign literature - featuring a photo of Virginia's odd couple, Robb and Wilder - as the people left.
Outside, Robb said the tax-exempt status of Faith Deliverance was safe despite the blatant campaigning going on under its roof.
``See, it says right there `Paid for and authorized by Robb for Senate,' '' Robb said pointing to the small print at the bottom of the literature.
``The campaign is not a tax exempt organization. The Christian Coalition is,'' he said, referring to the clash of the Christians which heated up last week when both sides argued that churches were compromising their charitable tax status by seeming to endorse candidates.
COLEMAN SPENT MOST OF THE DAY IN RICHMOND but arrived at Norfolk Collegiate school's ``Senatorial Carwash'' in time for a brief afternoon rain shower.
The independent ignored the weather to shake hands with soapy students.
Unfortunately, few were old enough to vote.
That didn't dampen Coleman's wit.
``I'm kind of the clean car in this race,'' he joked. by CNB