Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, December 8, 1994 TAG: 9412290012
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-19 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: RAY L. GARLAND
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
For what it's worth, in Senate Majority Leader Hunter Andrews and House Majority Leader Richard Cranwell, Democrats still possess two of the most effective legislators of the modern era. Both began their careers when Democratic control of the General Assembly seemed as immutable as the great solarial movement by which time is commonly reckoned. They now face the real prospect that a year hence may find them in the minority, or gone.
I had already served two terms in the House of Delegates, and was just getting the hang of the place, when Cranwell arrived in 1972. It was obvious from the start he meant to be a major player. It was equally obvious he had the brains, energy and tenacity required. To which might be added conviviality, without which few go far in any endeavor depending upon the consent of colleagues similarly placed.
During the period of successive Republican governors in the '70s, and particularly after I became assistant minority leader, we often crossed swords on the House floor. But political opposition was never taken personally, and I always admired the greater skill he brought to the game. A recent piece of mine quoting him on state indebtedness drew his fire, and we agreed to get together for a long chaw.
It's always fun to pick a first-class political brain. What did Cranwell think of the recent GOP victory in the congressional elections? He wasn't surprised: "Democrats forgot from whence they came." What about Allen? "He's one of the smartest politicians I've come across." On his defeat three years ago for speaker of the House: "Tom Moss was a better choice; I'm a soldier, not a referee." While his four children from a now defunct marriage are doing reasonably well, he did make a comment worth repeating on the task of parenting: "the most awesome responsibility we take on in life and the one for which we have the least preparation."
A task for which Cranwell had ample preparation was showing Republican governors who ran the legislature. But he never faced one so adroit as Allen, nor one who had so many of his own party in the legislature. Democrats led by Cranwell and a few others certainly put their stamp on bills enacted at the recent special session dealing with parole abolition. But it was the governor who was perceived as dominating the scene and getting most of what he wanted.
In the end, with copious oaths under their breath, almost all Democrats, including Cranwell, voted for the bills. Asked about that, Cranwell said, "Abolishing parole is bad government."
Almost in an aside, Allen asked the special session to authorize $367 million in prison bonds, to be issued through the Virginia Public Building Authority without voter approval. But the administration wasn't ready to specify the fine print and legislators of both parties were reluctant to embrace this funding device outside a regular, budgetary session of the assembly.
Cranwell arrived in Richmond when Virginia Democrats were still regarded as safely conservative. He came out against ratifying the Equal Rights Amendment to the U.S. Constitution and caught the first wave of religious conservatism in politics as a champion of limited state regulation of church schools. As state Democrats nudged closer to their national party, Cranwell trimmed his sails. But one thing he never liked was jiggery-pokery in public finance. That was the nerve I touched in saying Democrats like Cranwell got religion on debt only after a Republican governor arrived.
Check it out, he said. Well, sorting through all the bonding proposals of the past 20 years would be an enormous task. But Cranwell did oppose the $613 million in general-obligation bonds passed overwhelmingly at the '92 assembly and easily approved by voters that November. It was sold in part as a way of fighting the recession then paramount, but I was shocked to discover recently how many of those projects haven't even started.
While it's ancient history now, what Cranwell proposed instead is interesting, and he got it through the House with more than a few Republicans on board. He would have asked voters to approve $1 billion in bonds, including $500 million for highways, and a half-cent increase in the sales tax to pay for it. That is certainly one definition of fiscal responsibility, and he believes it should be contrasted with Allen's willingness to take the state deeper into debt and cut taxes at the same time.
What isn't clear is whether Cranwell will lead Democrats into a bidding war with Allen to see who can claim credit for cutting taxes the most. He did exactly that when legislators convened to ratify a settlement with federal pensioners.
What makes Cranwell tick? The desire to prevail, inherited from his strong Republican mother, is probably the mainspring. What makes it work? Behind his own great seriousness of purpose is the ability to find, train and ultimately inspire loyal lieutenants who can help him carry a load - of busy lawyer and legislative leader - that would crush most people.
Cranwell has been mentioned for higher office before, but always let the cup pass. That could change. He dismissed the idea of running for attorney general in 1997, seeming to regard that post as a glorified clerk's job that would bore an old warhorse. Challenging Lt. Gov. Don Beyer for top spot on the ticket was ruled out: "We're personal friends." Then, what about the job Beyer has now? "I couldn't possibly comment on that," he replied, "but you could." It would certainly mesh with a point many are making: Democrats must find a way to shore up their old base.
Ray L. Garland is a Roanoke Times & World-News columnist.
by CNB