Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, October 31, 1993 TAG: 9311030385
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: C3 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Margie Fisher
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Shropshire, a self-proclaimed "good ol' boy" from Martinsville, was 22 in 1967 when his mentor, the late Speaker A. L. Philpott of Bassett, got him a job as a committee clerk for the House of Delegates. He quickly climbed in the ranks to the top administrative post, inappropriately called "clerk," of the Virginia Senate, and simultaneously served for eight years as chairman of the State Compensation Board. Since 1990, he has been chief of staff to Gov. Douglas Wilder.
That curriculum vitae, though, tells you little about why Shropshire - known to everyone as Jay - might indeed write a book, as he's threatened to for years, and why every Virginian politician alive ought to hope to heck he doesn't.
As former Sen. Ray Garland of Roanoke once said, "Jay knows where all the bodies are buried. He's like old-fashioned, dedicated Southside courthouse politicians with an encyclopedic knowledge of political names, their personal preferences, peccadillos, sins of omission, sins of commission." He is, in other words, the consummate political insider and he could dish up dirt on virtually everyone who's had a role in state government for the past 26 years if he chose to.
I think that's unlikely because Shropshire, despite his reputation as a Machiavellian power player, is a loyalist to Virginia's government. In the brief letter of resignation he submitted to Wilder last week, he spoke of the "honor" of having served the General Assembly and in jobs to which he was appointed by three different governors. (Former Govs. Robb and Baliles named him to the Compensation Board.)
"My goal in every position held," he said, " has been the betterment of government for the commonwealth and for all Virginians."
Corny, maybe, but having known Shropshire as a friend for 18 years, I believe it's true.
Not, mind you, that Shropshire is above using his "knowledge" for political advantage for himself or others. He has, in fact, made a career of hatching Byzantine political plots to benefit his friends and dismay their enemies. Not for nothing was he dubbed by reporters as the Wilder administration's "secretary of revenge."
I think, though, that as a political broker, he's an honest broker. At least, I don't know of or can't recall a time when his manipulations of events weren't intended for the good of Virginia, as he defined "good."
Shropshire also has contributed significantly to improved press coverage of state government and the legislature.
As a former reporter in this newspaper's Richmond bureau, I felt I had a better understanding of how state government really functions because of Shropshire, and I'd bet there's not a single statehouse reporter who hasn't.
I met him my first day on the job there - his hair was already prematurely white - minutes after I'd stopped by Legislative Services and picked up a little flier entitled, "How a bill gets passed." Doubtless, I would have figured out eventually that the flier was meant to be useful only to schoolchildren making field-trip visits to the Capitol, but I might never have realized how totally irrelevant it was to the workings of the General Assembly had it not been for Shropshire's tutelage.
What he taught was this: What you "see" happening, or "hear" happening, is hardly ever what's actuall happening. A seemingly innocuous floor vote on a seemingly simple amendment to a bill may, for instance, be a political score being settled, or a blackmail scheme in the making, or a contract being let to a killer-for-hire. (OK, on that last, I exaggerate - but not much.)
Shropshire tried to make sure reporters understood who was doing what to whom and why. As clerk of the Senate, it was his habit to stop by the press table in the Senate chamber before each day's session that began with a minister praying for the commonwealth and for the honorables.
"Watch Emick on HB 255," he'd whisper to one scrivener. "Pay attention to Goode on SB 36," he'd say to others. And if we'd ask what was likely to happen on a certain issue, he'd sometimes say "I have no idea" and roll his eyes in a way that was code for something cooking that might not be so honorable.
Yes, he's often planted stories and leaked insiders' information. He's probably been quoted in more newspapers as the unnamed "source close to" news developments than anyone else in state history. But he's had low tolerance for some of the misfeasance and misconduct he's seen going on behind the scenes, and he's taken it upon himself to blow the whistle on it whenever he could.
Due in large part to his long-time relationship with Wilder (unfortunately strained in the past couple of years), much has been written about Shropshire in newspapers and in books. The role he played in Wilder's career, which culminated with Wilder's election as the nation's first elected black governor, is legendary. So, too, among state-government followers, is Shropshire's modus operandi: His penchant for political gossip - not necessarily seamy stuff or useful stuff, just gossip. The controversies he's landed smack in the middle of. His "networking" with legislators and others, from nationally known politicians to janitors and maids at the Capitol. The secrets he knows as a result of his networking.
Shropshire, of course, won't completely be leaving state government when he retires next month. He's so much a part of it, and it's so much a part of him, that I don't think he could. His plans are to become a consultant and lobbyist at the state, federal and local levels, and to pursue other business ventures.
Might that include writing a book about his experiences in state government and its darker undersides? I don't know, but he should go ahead and copyright "Jonah in the Belly of the Whale" as a title.
by CNB