Kilgore Says Kaine Mocked His Accent
By Peter Whoriskey
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, May 9, 2005
GATE CITY, Va. -- The fact that Jerry W. Kilgore speaks with the distinctive Appalachian twang of his home town has been a part of his gubernatorial campaign from its very beginning, although then the issue seemed little more than an offhand expression of hill country pride.
Outside his campaign kickoff here last month, a big sign in the bed of a pickup truck read: "Welcome to Gate City (Pardon the Accent.)" The Republican candidate's opening speech at the high school gym, delivered in front of a similar sign, touted his twang as a measure of country authenticity.
"My accent may only be rivaled by Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger," he joked to the audience in this town near the Tennessee border. "But I will tell you this: I would rather be a workhorse than a show horse."
The audience members, many of whom would pronounce his first name Jurry, were appreciative. But now that Kilgore is charging that Lt. Gov. Timothy M. Kaine, the Democratic candidate, has mocked his accent and, by extension, all of southwest Virginia, people here are divided. Some believe Kilgore's suspicion stems from a justified fear that more than a few outsiders view locals as "hillbillies," but others say the allegations are simply a calculated move by Kilgore to vilify his opponent and win votes.
Virginia politics has long been riven by regional rivalries, and the various accents give them voice. In general terms, there are those from Northern Virginia, another set from Richmond and yet another from southwest Virginia.
"It's an obvious political stunt by Kilgore to divert attention from the real issues," said Rex McCarty, a businessman and owner of the Homeplace Museum here. "I don't think people are buying it."
Others disagreed. They noted that some people still associate their accents with the backwardness of characters in "The Beverly Hillbillies" or "Deliverance."
Kilgore "has been in Richmond long enough to realize that there is some prejudice," Lois Quillin, a retired teacher, said last week from the counter of her husband's hardware store. Some people feel "that you're not as educated or capable because of your accent."
In recent weeks, the Kilgore campaign has placed ads in local papers headlined "Liberal Tim Kaine Mocks Rural Virginia." A satirical memo from the Kilgore campaign worked a similar theme.
Given the attention devoted to regional identity in the area, such accusations can be politically explosive.
Nestled in the green hills of Appalachia, Scott County was the home of legendary country music pioneer A.P. Carter, and his homestead has been carefully restored. The Quillin hardware store is filled with historical artifacts: a wheat cradle, an ice saw and old milk jug. And although some may make fun, many delight in the fact that locals say "up 'ar" while others would fully pronounce "up there," or that they call bottled soft drinks "dopes," or that when they say "sit" the word sounds more like "seeit."
"Some people from other parts of the country just like to hear us talk," said Bill Smith, the barber at the East End Shop in Gate City. But "if anyone thinks they're being made fun of here, that would make a big difference in the election."
The stakes are high: The votes of southwest Virginia are considered a political prize in any state election. Yet the evidence for the accusation that Kaine is mocking Kilgore or anyone else is somewhat murky.
"You're not going to have a smoking gun," Kilgore campaign spokesman Tim Murtaugh said. "If you're going to call someone out on their accent, you have to do it in a subtle way. You think they're actually going to run an ad saying 'Jerry Kilgore talks funny'?"
The evidence, Murtaugh said, lies in the fact that Kaine has run ads challenging Kilgore to use his own voice in his political advertisements and that the Kaine campaign has posted a clip of Kilgore speaking on the Web site http://jerrytheduck.com/ .
"Why would they be so anxious to have people hear his voice?" Murtaugh asked. "There is no other explanation than that they are trying to draw attention to his accent. . . . There is no other way to look at it."
Kaine spokeswoman Delacey Skinner dismissed the accusations as politically motivated nonsense.
"All we were saying is that if Jerry Kilgore is going to run ads attacking Tim Kaine, he ought to be standing by them and using his own voice," she said. "That was the point of those ads -- nothing more.
"The reason we put the audio clip on the Web site is for what he's saying, not how he's saying it," Skinner added.
Murtaugh responded:
"They can deny it all they want; they know what they're doing. You can tell by their reaction when we smoked them out on this. They were fairly apoplectic."
Dennis R. Preston, a linguist who has studied people's perception of accents, said having an accent like Kilgore's has advantages and disadvantages.
What that accent says to many northerners, he said, is "I may not be a correct speaker, but when I speak, people know I'm a real, authentic, down-to-earth person."
On the other hand, he said, some people hear an accent and think the speaker may be ignorant.
"When I teach my classes in Michigan, I use a pretend Michigan accent just so my students think I'm capable of tying my shoes at least," said Preston, a professor at Michigan State University who grew up near Louisville, with an accent not too different from Kilgore's. "I do this not because I'm ashamed. It's just more convenient. It keeps people from not paying attention to me for a while."
Although it's too early to tell how the accents dispute will play politically, around tables in Gate City's pool hall, there was much skepticism about the subject in general.
Danny Head, 53, a carpenter, scoffed at the nation's infatuation with "The Beverly Hillbillies" and the attempt in recent years to concoct a "reality TV" version of that show.
"I would have liked to have been one of the actors in that show and gotten all that money," he said. "But I've lived here my whole life, and I can tell you there's no people like that around here."
In fact, said Allen Goodsey, 67, the only people who resemble anything out of "The Beverly Hillbillies" are the politicians who, he said, are like the character known as Mr. Drysdale -- the banker who would stoop to anything to make sure the Clampetts kept their accounts at his bank.
"Mr. Drysdale would do anything for money," Goodsey said, "and they'll do anything for your vote."