The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Saturday, October 21, 1995             TAG: 9510210283
SECTION: FRONT                    PAGE: A1   EDITION: FINAL 
SERIES: Campaign '95 
SOURCE: BY ROBERT LITTLE, STAFF WRITER 
DATELINE: HAMPTON                            LENGTH: Long  :  182 lines

GOP MUSCLE, MONEY VS. HUNTER ANDREWS

Richard Ruth raised his iced tea higher and higher over his head, as if somehow that would stop the drips from falling on his arm.

``Hunter! Hunter!'' rasped the 82-year-old retired restaurateur, plodding along Mallory Street at a leaden clip. Every few steps, he would switch his cup from hand to hand to shake off the spillage. ``Hey there, Hunter! Hunter! Hey, Hunter!'' Ruth continued.

The target of Ruth's hailings was state Sen. Hunter B. Andrews, who at that moment was conversing with a clerk of the court candidate, walking determinedly along the center of the road and otherwise minding no one's business but his own.

Andrews was part of the annual Phoebus Days parade, surrounded by hundreds of people, flanked by supporters carrying his picture on colored placards and being tailed by an old acquaintance shouting his name - none of which seemed to have caught his eye.

``Whoa, I almost missed you,'' Ruth said, finally gripping Andrews' hand after a block-long chase. ``Keep up the good work, now.''

``Why, hello,'' Andrews managed. ``Thank you.''

Any 32-year Virginia statesman would look a bit off kilter, hiking his belly out over a pair of khakis and hoofing the asphalt with a crowd of sprightly candy-throwers. With Hunter Andrews, perhaps doubly so.

But the 74-year-old lawyer - dean of the Democrats in the General Assembly - is this fall the target of a six-figure campaign-fund assault from state Republicans.

The race has become a partisan bellwether of sorts among the slobbering politicos, and has forced Andrews to dust off his campaign repertoire.

``This is the fifth parade we've done,'' Andrews said last Saturday with no uncertain degree of pride, after walking the short route through Hampton. Then he gave his eyes a slight roll, shuddered and twisted his lips into a wicked grin. ``And it's the last,'' he said.

As part of their party's pervasive quest to win control of the General Assembly, Republicans in Andrews' district have this year come up with a novel turn: A candidate who might win. His name is Marty Williams, vice mayor of Newport News and a skilled hand-shaker and baby-kisser.

The 1st Senate district, which includes York County, Poquoson and parts of Hampton and Newport News, would seem ripe for change. Voters there supported Republicans Ollie North, George Allen and George Bush in recent elections - Williams kind of company.

And Williams likes to show off his poll from a GOP-friendly research firm that shows him winning the Nov. 7 election. Democrats, of course, call that so much bunk.

Either way, the vigor with which a powerful, veteran senator like Andrews is shopping for votes in his hometown illustrates the anxious tone that has enveloped this fall's election for the legislature.

Republicans are increasingly confident they will win the three Senate seats needed to gain a majority. Democrats promise their own election-day surprises.

The enormous amount of Republican money, advertising and old-fashioned stumping directed against Andrews highlight another phenomenon: individual Democrats being opposed by the whole of the Republican Party.

The Republicans' motivation is twofold. They want control of the chamber that Andrews now rules. Andrews' $390,000 bankroll makes him the best-financed candidate in the state, so a cooperative effort is their best hope.

But equally delicious to Republicans is the thought of toppling the fabled Andrews ego. ``It's no symbolic race, it's a serious attempt to take a seat,'' said Scott Leake, spokesman for the General Assembly Republicans.

``But he is certainly a symbol for the arrogance that Republicans have suffered under for decades.''

Andrews isn't just any other senator: He's the majority leader. Despite what the lieutenant governor might tell you, the majority leader is the guy who runs the whole shebang.

Andrews is responsible for the Senate's daily schedule of votes, and he serves as floor leader and a type of moderator for debate.

Of more despair to Republicans, however, is Andrews' role in assigning members to Senate committees, where most nuts-and-bolts legislating takes place.

The Senate rules say both parties should have committee representation proportionate to their overall status in the legislature. But Andrews' 15-member Senate Finance Committee has just three Republican members.

Harrisonburg Sen. Kevin G. Miller, a certified public accountant and 15-year Assembly veteran, never has held a seat on the Senate's powerful money committee, and he blames Andrews. Miller is unopposed this year and has just more than $5,000 in his bank account, but he gave $1,000 of it to Williams.

``I would borrow money to support Marty Williams,'' said Miller. ``We all have our priorities, and I believe that beating Hunter should be one of them.''

Democrats don't even bother trying to paint Andrews as some lovable patriarch. They know his reputation: He drops his political opponents as sure as he drops his r's.

His abrasive style, friends say, isn't just borne of his politics, but stems from a passionate respect for the rules of a system in which he has earned considerable clout. Few senators know the chamber's rules of debate as well as Andrews. Probably none thinks them so sacred.

``I always respected his intellect, and his sense of fairness whenever you dealt with him on an official and respectful basis,'' said Wiley F. Mitchell Jr., a Norfolk attorney who served 14 years with Andrews as a Republican senator from Alexandria.

``But Hunter was certainly not someone you would expect to cut you any slack. He sort of personifies my understanding of the word `imperious.' ''

Said Gail Nardi, spokeswoman for the General Assembly Democrats: ``If you decide to play hardball with Hunter Andrews, you'd better wear a hard hat. He's everything you don't want in an opponent.''

It seems Republicans took that to heart the last few elections. They offered scant opposition to Andrews, if any at all. When Barry I. Epstein lost to Andrews by just 2,000 votes in 1991 - and with virtually no party support - Republicans were stunned. And enthused.

This year, instead of a party nobody, the GOP offered a scrappy contender.

Williams has lived in Newport News all his life, and developed a share of political allies. With his mustachioed smile and sturdy gait, he has an every-man style of campaigning that Andrews would find hard to achieve. During the Phoebus Days parade, for instance, the Andrews entourage was all on foot. Williams offered a bright red truck screaming ``Williams For Senate'' to the masses. Andrews gave a few winks or thumbs-up. Williams plunged into the crowd with two-fisted handshakes.

The Andrews/Williams campaign has been characterized by a certain political brawn. Both candidates can rattle off their opponents' vulnerablities - and are quick to exploit them in campaign literature.

Andrews for years has dodged criticism about his position as Hampton Commissioner of Accounts. The job of settling estates - a part-time post filled by judges that Andrews helps names to the bench - has earned him perhaps $1 million or more in the last 12 years. A bill to require commissioners of accounts to report their gross income from the post passed 100-0 in the House of Delegates, but was killed by a Senate subcommittee after Andrews told members he didn't think it was necessary.

``It's a broken system that allows elected officials to use their position to guarantee their large incomes,'' Williams said earlier this fall.

Williams made statewide headlines in 1992 when he was secretly recorded during a telephone conversation saying he could ``fix'' school board appointments. The Newport News councilman also was criticized for voting on city matters that could have benefited his business interests.

Andrews' campaign has spent thousands of dollars researching Williams' business dealings in various jobs he has held over the last decade.

``Vote `NO' on Marty Williams,'' reads an Andrews brochure. ``He works too hard. . . for himself.''

More than anything, however, Williams has been criticized this fall for running a campaign thin on local concerns but heavy on recycled Republican rhetoric. Much of his message - like many Republicans' around the state - comes straight from Gov. George F. Allen.

And the 44-year-old husband and father, a Ferrum College dropout, is unapologetic.

``You should criticize the Democrats for governing like clones, not us for running like clones,'' he said.

``This race doesn't have to be complicated. It's about Virginia's future, where he's led it and where I want it to go. He's doing it. He's the most powerful man in the Senate. He likes the way things are going and I don't.'' MEMO: Hampton Roads is home to some closely watched state Senate races, but

there are several key contests throughout the state:

ALEXANDRIA - 30th District: Alexandria Mayor Patricia Ticer, a

Democrat, has clamored to wrest the seat away from moderate Republican

Sen. Robert Calhoun. The Democrat-leaning district has made first-termer

Calhoun's control precarious. He is considered perhaps the most

vulnerable Republican senator in the state.

CHARLOTTESVILLE - 25th District: Republican Edgar Robb's conspicuous

last name (no relation to the U.S. senator) might seem noteworthy, but

not compared to the recognition of his opponent's surname. His

Democratic challenger, Emily Couric, is the sister of NBC celebrity

Katie Couric - a twist that has garnered more attention than the race's

scurrilous tone. Further clouding the ticket are two independents, Donal

B. Day and Eric P. Strzepek. Robb and Couric had raised more than

$375,000 between them by October, one of the highest totals in the

state.

CENTRAL VIRGINIA - 4th District: Republicans consider the seat held

by Hanover County Sen. Elmo Cross, a Democrat, a critical obstacle to

control of the Senate. A 20-year veteran, Cross has waged a far-flung

campaign, but will likely be outspent by Republican challenger Bill

Bolling in a district that could favor the GOP.

NORTHERN VIRGINIA - 36th District: Sen. Joe Gartlan, one of the

Senate's more a liberal Democrats, faces former Congressman Stan Parris,

a conservative Republican. Their combined war chests exceed $300,000.

Most say it's Gartlan's seat to lose.

ILLUSTRATION: Graphic with photos

Andrews

Williams

KEYWORDS: VIRGINIA STATE SENATE RACE 1ST SENATE DISTRICT CANDIDATE

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