THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, December 17, 1995 TAG: 9512170038
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY TODD JACKSON AND ROBERT LITTLE, STAFF WRITERS
DATELINE: ROCKY MOUNT LENGTH: Long : 219 lines
Jay Shropshire pulled up in state Sen. Virgil Goode's driveway in his Datsun 280Z.
It was more than a decade ago, and Shropshire, now a political analyst and lobbyist, was clerk of the state Senate. He was on his way from his home in Martinsville to Roanoke to do some Christmas shopping and had stopped in Rocky Mount to pick up his friend Goode, who needed to go to Roanoke, too.
But instead of being excited about riding shotgun in a flashy Japanese sports car, Shropshire remembers, Goode was bothered by the whole idea. ``He said, `Let's take my car. Yours is foreign.' ''
So, Goode and Shropshire made the trip up U.S. 220 in Goode's late-model Ford sedan.
Then, inside Tanglewood Mall, Shropshire announced that he had to buy a few things at John Norman - a trendy men's clothing store.
Again, Goode wrinkled his nose.
``That's where the big boys shop,'' Shropshire remembers Goode saying.
So, Goode sat on a bench outside the store and waited for his friend to come out.
``I'm not joking about any of this,'' Shropshire says. ``It's not fake or fiction. Virgil is what he is. He has a certain lifestyle and that's what he adheres to.''
To many of his peers in the legislature, Goode has always been the quirky country lawyer who talks with a distinctive Southwest Virginia drawl.
He's a man they've never quite understood.
``Virgil's an anomaly and he knows that,'' says Del. Ward Armstrong, D-Henry County, whose House district overlaps Goode's. ``But to some people he's an enigma.''
All of the sudden, though, a lot of people are trying to figure Goode out, because he's fluffing the pillows in the catbird seat.
Senior senators say Goode won't promise to support his fellow Democrats when they vote for the Senate leadership Jan. 10.
With the chamber deadlocked - 20 members from each political party - all Goode has to do is not vote, and the Republicans could rule the Senate.
When the time comes, most expect Goode to vote with his party to organize the Senate, and not feel like he has to explain why.
``There's a term used here a lot called `yellow dog Democrat' - someone who'd rather for a yellow dog than a Republican,'' says state Sen. Robert Calhoun, R-Alexandria. ``I think Virgil comes from that kind of background - the Democratic Party, for better or worse.''
But in the meantime, he'll make the best of all the Capitol Square bartering that has made him such a reluctant political commodity.
``He's the kind of guy you might not even notice until all of a sudden his vote makes all the difference,'' said Sen. Clarence A. Holland, D-Virginia Beach.
``He's a Phi Beta Kappa - smart as a whip, and probably one of the best politicians in the Virginia Senate. And he's probably got the safest seat in the Senate, too. That makes for one hell of an opportunity in a situation like this.''
But, unlike state Sen. Jane Woods of Fairfax County, who has been tabbed as the Republican senator most likely to bolt from her party, Goode is keeping everyone in the dark about his plans.
He was in and out of his law office last week and could not be reached to comment for this story.
Woods held a news conference last week to announce that she's staying a Republican; she discussed her philosophy at length.
But that's not Goode's style. He's had little to say about the situation and says he's surprised at the commotion he's stirred up.
``That's what's so interesting about this whole thing,'' Armstrong says. ``Virgil's not acting any different than he ever has.''
However, the political climate has changed around him. In 1973, when Goode first took office, there were conservatives aplenty in the 40-member Senate, but only six called themselves Republicans.
Since then, however, the ideological rift between the parties has widened - as evidenced by this year's election which produced a 20-seat tie.
Twenty years ago, a few party deviants made little difference to the Democrats' solid majority. But now that they have just Lt. Gov. Donald S. Beyer's vote to keep them in power, Goode can change the balance of power just by going to the washroom at a bad time.
All of which can make things a bit cramped in the Democratic Party for a free-thinking conservative from Franklin County.
In Richmond, Goode always has been somewhat of a wild card. Through his early years in the Senate, he was frequently tabbed as a maverick populist.
For example, in his second year in the General Assembly, Goode offered an unsuccessful bill that would cut senators' pay by 5 percent and give the savings to the taxpayers.
At about the same time, he fought vehemently against the state's second-largest utility - the Appalachian Power Company - when electric rates were on a steady incline.
In this year's session, no one in the Senate crossed party lines more than Goode. He breaks with the Democrats even on innocuous procedural votes, if they don't suit him. And he usually doesn't tell anyone in advance, or explain why later.
Majority Leader Hunter B. Andrews passed Goode by for a coveted chairmanship of a Finance subcommittee, even though he was next in line. ``You don't give it to someone who can't even be counted on to vote for the budget,'' says one colleague.
Says one Senate Democrat: ``There's never been any disrespect for Virgil, just an understanding that he's going to go his own way. That he's predictable.''
``Well, when you have enough votes, so what? Let him go any way he wants. But when it's 20-20, you want him to be your best friend. I'll bet he never knew how many friends he could have.''
Making friends with the Democrats apparently hasn't been one of Goode's legislative priorities. Consider his bill last year that made it easier for Virginians to carry concealed handguns. Democrats couldn't decide what broiled them more: That one of their own scored the most conservative victory of the year, or that Goode hardly bothered to debate it because he knew it had the votes to pass.
And, of course, there was his run against U.S. Sen. Charles S. Robb for the party's nomination in 1994.
As political endeavors go, it was hardly a thing of beauty - more on par with hair-pulling or eye-gouging. Goode charged his lance into Robb's dented armor, with attacks on the former governor's ``partying with prostitutes and drug criminals.'' He circulated incriminating documents from Robb's former aides, claiming that Robb ignored his friends' drug use and cheated on his wife.
Such virulence was much out of character for the otherwise mannerly state senator. But it was the principle of it all, his friends said. Virginia deserved better.
``Virgil is first and foremost a gentleman,'' says Nelson Amos, a retired factory worker from Franklin County and a staunch Goode supporter who has known the senator for more than 20 years. ``Virgil treats all classes of people the same.''
The snubbing that Democrats largely gave Goode's U.S. Senate bid is thought to be the main reason that he hasn't completely quashed state Republican hopes that he'll help them. But many of his colleagues say they were stunned when he announced his run against Robb in the first place. The General Assembly session had ended just weeks earlier. And even though Goode was chairman of the Senate's Democratic caucus, he never consulted the group or spread the word.
All of which accentuates the style that Goode displays on the Senate floor, seated in the front row with the senior majority members. Among the more short-winded members, he usually rises to speak only when the liberals are threatening to score.
In a business full of yuck-yuckers and back-slappers, Goode - who dresses plainly and still drives a Ford sedan - cuts a quiet profile. You won't likely catch him at the Commonwealth Club sipping cocktails with the political go-getters. You might not even find him at the Democrats' private caucus meetings.
``I've been friends with Virgil for years,'' says Sen. Frank W. Nolen, D-Augusta County. ``But, you know, I don't really know him that well. That's just how he is.''
``Virgil is his own man,'' says Franklin County Republican Party Chairman Carthan Currin. ``I don't think many in the (state) Democratic Party have ever completely understood him, and, until now, they've never really tried.''
While many of his senate colleagues may not be able to put a finger on him, Goode has never had a problem communicating with his constituents in a district that includes Franklin, Henry, Floyd and Patrick counties, a portion of Carroll County and the city of Martinsville.
``Virgil can call more people by their first names than any other person in the state of Virginia I'd bet,'' Amos says. ``He goes the extra mile to attend rescue squad meetings and things like that. He tries to meet as many people as he can so he can talk to them one on one.''
Goode is very much a creature of place. Independent-minded and rural Franklin County is where his father, Virgil Goode Sr., preceded his son as a political legend.
Goode Sr., known for his devotion to home and fiery speaking skills, served as the county commonwealth's attorney for more than 20 years. He also represented the the county in the state legislature.
Goode Jr. campaigned for the first time in 1973 with his father in the background.
In a six-way race for the state Senate seat that year, Goode - who was just out of law school and had yet to find out that he'd passed the bar exam - got more of the vote than the other candidates combined.
He was just 27 years old, and was the youngest person to ever be elected to the state Senate.
No one has opposed him since 1979, when Goode, with 86 percent of the vote, defeated a Martinsville businessman.
Over the years, he has become a Robin Hood of sorts.
Goode gets his share of contributions from corporate political action committees and special interest groups even though he has opposed big business interests several times in the state legislature.
Goode then turns around and donates a lot of that money to people and organizations in his district.
In 1995, campaign finance reports show that Goode made 102 donations - totaling close to $4,000 - to churches, Rotary and Ruritan clubs, fire departments, rescue squads and just about any other organization in his Senate district.
And he does this while living modestly himself.
When he ran against Robb for the U.S. Senate nomination in 1994, Goode filed a federal financial disclosure form that showed he had made just $15,000 as a lawyer in the previous 12 months.
The $15,000 in law business Goode reported amounted to less than the $18,000 senators receive annually for their legislative work.
``I'd be shocked if Virgil spends less than 40 hours a week with political duties,'' Armstrong says. ``Why shouldn't his constituents be happy? They're getting a full-time senator at a part-time price.''
Goode's law office is on the bottom floor of one of the oldest buildings on Main Street in Rocky Mount, and Goode has done no remodeling except to close off an office area at one end with a glass partition.
The office is cluttered with items Goode collects - including political campaign buttons, comic books and two spinning wheels.
He shies away from subjects that might anger a certain group of his constituents. And as a lawyer, Goode doesn't take high-profile public cases.
``He doesn't like controversy. He'd rather avoid it,'' says Armstrong. ``Virgil is the perennial nice guy.''
Armstrong marvels at the results of polls from some of his recent campaigns. Those polls usually include Goode because of the district overlap.
``His rating is always above 70 percent,'' Armstrong says. ``And when it comes to politicians, that's unheard of.''
And, according to voters and those such as Armstrong, Goode could stay a Democrat as he's said he will do, vote exclusively Republican, and walk around his district with his popularity virtually unscathed.
That puts Goode in a place where few legislators tread.
Some Republican senators have discussed offering Goode one of the most coveted slots in the legislature - chairman of the powerful Senate Finance Committee - if he'll switch parties.
``How many legislators get a chance to go from being one of the boys to being the man in such a short period of time?,'' Shropshire says.
``And don't think Virgil hasn't thought about that. He has one of the best intellects of anyone I've ever met in any legislature. He's in the big leagues.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
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