THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 28, 1996 TAG: 9607240048
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY PAM STARR, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: 120 lines
RAE LeSESNE drives three and a half hours every week for a cup of hot coffee.
Sure, he could find good java closer to his home in Oxford, N.C. But the 75-year-old wants something with his coffee he can only find at the McDonald's on Princess Anne Road in the Kempsville section of Virginia Beach: a large side of lively conversation.
Every Monday he joins several other senior citizens who whittle away the morning lingering over their coffee with unlimited refills and two breakfast biscuits for a buck special while grousing about President Clinton and worrying about Bob Dole.
Some come in right at the crack of dawn for the early bird discussion while others prefer to wait till 9:30 or 10 a.m. when the conversation heats up. Some, like Orville and Grace Stevens, drink their cups of joe every day but Sunday. Either way, every week they solve the world's problems or at least put them in the proper conservative-Republican perspective.
``What is wrong with Bob Dole?'' Harry Luman, the unofficial leader of the group and a retired army major, asks. ``I know Dole personally and he's got the right ideas but he doesn't come across like that.
``One advantage Dole has - he has lived a clean life,'' Luman adds, downing the last swig of coffee from his plastic foam cup. ``Clinton's led a dirty life. But with Ross Perot in, Bob Dole can't get elected. Perot will get enough to hurt Dole.''
Everyone nods soberly in agreement. Dan Rudisill, wearing a Virginia ball cap and sporting a huge brass belt buckle inscribed with ``U.S. Border Patrol 50 years'' leans back in his booth. He pops a thin brown cigar in his mouth and thoughtfully chews on the end.
``I think Bob Dole's too old to get elected and I'm his age - 73,'' he says.
Liz Spangler, 70, who is sitting next to her 73-year-old husband Ron, offers her opinion.
``Military men don't make good presidents,'' she declares. ``What we need is a woman president - she could balance a budget better than a man.''
``You mean like Billary,'' counters Luman with a snicker. ``She's off talking to Eleanor Roosevelt. Maybe Eleanor will tell her what to do.''
Rae LeSesne says that there's a popular bumper sticker in North Carolina which reads ``Impeach the President and Throw Out Bill, Too.''
Liz Spangler laughs along with the others and smiles.
``Behind every man is a good woman,'' she replies. ``Nancy Reagan was a strong woman, too. She ran the country - and she consulted astrologers.''
The men couldn't argue with that one. Well, then, says Luman with authority, ``I'll tell you who should be president.
``Senator Sam Nunn of Georgia,'' Luman declares in his deep, gravelly voice. ``I like him - he's honest - but he doesn't want the job.
``I'd love to be president. I'd cut down the size of government and the interference of government.''
That said, Luman leaves for a Merit cigarette break. He's 82 and has been smoking for almost 70 years and doesn't want to hear about the dangers of tobacco, thank you very much. When a visitor suggests that Bob Dole went a little overboard during his interview with Katie Couric about tobacco a few weeks ago, the men pounce.
``Katie Couric should have been jumped on,'' says Orville Stevens, 66, a retired naval lieutenant commander. Stevens, with his gray crewcut and ramrod-straight stance, looks like he'd be more comfortable in a uniform than civilian clothes. ``He said he's not sure that tobacco is addictive. That's all he said. So the Democrats put an ad on TV showing teenagers smoking.''
LeSesne brings a little levity to the now-heated discussion.
``I quit smoking when cigarettes were 35 cents a pack,'' he says. ``I used to smoke three packs a day. I figured I could buy a car in three years with that money and I did!''
Other McDonald's restaurants across Hampton Roads have regular senior morning customers, but not all offer the free coffee and unlimited refills like this one, which is owner-operated. That's why Edith Wike decided to drive the seven extra miles down the road for her morning caffeine break - because the McDonald's on Newtown Road started charging 25 cents for coffee.
The unlimited opinions that are served up with the unlimited refills are an added benefit.
Liz and Ron Spangler travel to this particular McDonald's from Norfolk for the same reason. McDonald's assistant manager Heidi Utsch says that they're dedicated to their senior customers.
``Workers love 'em - they're our regular customers,'' says Utsch. ``Most of them come in every morning.''
Other restaurants such as Burger King, Hardee's, International House of Pancakes and Denny's have their regulars but they aren't quite as organized and vocal as this group. Orville Stevens says that the group is like a kind of church family. Stevens, Bob Kubiszewski and Dan Rudisill all live in nearby Carolanne Farms while Harry Luman resides in Brandon.
``We celebrate birthdays, talk politics,'' says Stevens. ``If someone doesn't show we wonder where they are.''
The late Gene Russo started this informal coffee klatch four years ago. He was a member of the Virginia Beach-based Citizens Action Coalition, which Rae LeSesne founded five years ago, and suggested meeting at McDonald's every week to hash out current events and politics. Six months later he died. The group mourned another member's passing last year when John Balchunis died.
But they carry on. Dan Rudisill says he comes here for ``good, sensible, politically challenging discussion.'' Retired Navy man-turned-financial consultant Bob Kubiszewski, wearing an Atlanta 1996 Olympics ball cap over his deeply lined face, scoffs at the suggestion that their meetings are therapeutic.
``Who thinks about therapy?'' he says with a laugh. ``I come here every day for coffee. We just have a good time.''
Luman agrees.
``It's comradeship and exchange of viewpoints,'' he says. ``And we don't get belligerent.''
By 11 a.m. or so the members filter out of their makeshift political arena and go about their days. Rae LeSesne is the last one to leave. He throws away his empty cup and tray and carefully wipes his thin gray mustache with a napkin. LeSesne says goodbye to the McDonald's workers, who wave, and opens the door into the bright sunshine.
Then he jumps into his red Ford pickup truck and heads back home to Oxford, N.C.Next Monday there'll plenty to talk about. ILLUSTRATION: Color photos by MOTOYA NAKAMURA /The Virginian-Pilot
RIGHT, Dan Rudisill ia a Monday-morning regular. Left, Harry Luman
chats with Liz and Ron Spangler.
MOTOYA NAKAMURA /The Virginian-Pilot
Rae LeSesne, 75, of Oxford, N.C., is one of the regulars of the
Monday morning McDonald's meeting in Virginia Beach. by CNB