THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 16, 1995 TAG: 9507140198
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 07 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: ON THE STREET
SOURCE: BILL REED
LENGTH: Medium: 75 lines
The face and voice were familiar, but the hairdo wasn't.
As a matter of fact, there was no hairdo. There was just a pate glistening in the lights that shone down on the speaker's dais Tuesday in the City Council chamber.
It could have been Daddy Warbucks of Little Orphan Annie fame, but it wasn't. It was Lou Pace, perennial council scold and candidate, holding forth on his favorite subject: taxes.
He hates 'em. Feels government bureaucracy should be slashed rather than having taxes raised.
The issue Tuesday was the proposed $1 additional lodging tax to help boost the city's advertising budget from $2.4 million to more than $5 million.
Lou said he was agin it. ``It seems we're spending a lot more money on the resort strip than we're generating in tax dollars down there,'' he said in a booming baritone. ``Us local taxpayers aren't getting the benefits from it.''
You were hearing vintage Lou Pace.
But back to the bald pate. Since Lou and his family arrived in Virginia Beach in 1980, he was known for his particularly handsome mane of white hair and his proclivity for seeking public office. He has run three times for a council seat and once for the state Senate, but has never won. Never even came close.
In the process, he has looked every inch the statesman, appearing before civic leagues and church gatherings while on the stump and railing against government insensitivity to the little guy - the taxpayer.
A little more than two months ago, Lou was told that he had lymphoma, a disease characterized by the rapid spread of malignant lymph tissue in the body.
He has since undergone chemotherapy - with still more to come - and says the treatment has caused his hair to fall out ``by the handful.''
So, rather than go around looking like a moth-eaten shag carpet, Lou asked his wife, Patricia, to cut off all of the remaining strands.
Tearfully, she complied, Lou said later.
The illness has caused Lou to miss a couple of council meetings and, as he found on his return Tuesday, his absence was noted with concern and some affection by council members themselves.
They said as much as Lou strode to the dais to harangue them on the lodging tax issue and he seemed genuinely touched.
Usually, when Lou stands to speak and utters the fateful phrase, ``My name is Lou Pace, I live in Hunt Club Forest and I represent myself,'' eyeballs at the council table begin to roll. TV cameras automatically shut down. Reporter's pencils stop scribbling. Presiding bureaucrats bury their noses in any paperwork handy.
All of which hurts Lou's feelings. He insists that he makes valid points on issues ranging from tax increases to the Lake Gaston pipeline struggle.
``Damn it, I make some sense when I get up there and say some things,'' he said in a recent interview. ``But they never mention my name.''
Such are the vagaries of being in the limelight.
But the setbacks - be they health or lack of public recognition - won't stop Lou Pace. No sir.
He has thrown his hat in the political arena once more. This time he's running against Curtis Fruit, the veteran Circuit Court clerk, in the November election. Why? Because he found that Fruit is running unopposed.
Besides, he added, he found that the Circuit Court clerk is elected for an eight-year term and pulls down an annual salary of $85,000, plus bennies. ``He even gets a car allowance,'' said Pace.
Win or lose, however, he plans to stay in the battle to the end. Fight the good fight, Lou. ILLUSTRATION: Photos
Lou Pace, known for his handsome mane of white hair and for his
proclivity for seeking public office, shaved off the locks after
chemotherapy caused his hair to fall out ``by the handful.''
by CNB