By Marc Fisher
Thursday, August 24, 2006; B01

A nthony Lawson hadn't ever heard of Marie Johns until he saw her at a recent forum of D.C. mayoral candidates. He was impressed. "You seem inspired to do this because you care," Lawson told Johns after she finished speaking.

Johns beamed. "This is a heart thing for me," she said.

"Yeah, you really got to me with what you said," Lawson said.

"Thank you."

"But I can't vote for you," Lawson said.

Lawson's family will line up behind Adrian Fenty for mayor next month, because no matter how impressive other candidates' speeches might be, when Lawson's sisters in Petworth had a problem with crack addicts doing their stuff in the basement next door, they called the police, and no one did anything. They called the city government, and no one did anything.

Then they called Fenty. Within minutes, the Ward 4 council member called back. Within hours, he followed up. Within a couple of days, he had the police on the case. Problem solved, vote won.

"Fenty is out there," Lawson told me. "He actually does his job."

Next scene: I'm at Linda Cropp's campaign launch at 14th and U streets NW, and I see a veteran of the D.C. political scene, a government pro who has served three mayors. He has known Cropp forever, and his good friends from the Marion Barry era are running Cropp's campaign. Shhh, he says. Don't tell anyone, but "I'm voting for Fenty."

"You can't use my name, 'cause I'm expected to support Linda," he says, "but let me tell you this: My mother's block was getting real bad. The dealers were thick, corner to corner. I couldn't get the police to pay attention to it. Finally, we call Adrian. That same week, the cops flood the block and stay on it till the dealers abandon the place. See, I have to vote for Adrian."

These are far from anomalies; it is virtually impossible to go out campaigning with any other candidate without hearing such testimonials about Fenty.

People in opposing campaigns deride such stories as anecdotes that miss the fact that the young council member is green, unschooled in managing a government, reflexively opposed to business interests and -- this part is whispered confidentially -- not terribly bright.

"It's right out of the political playbook," Fenty says, laughing. " 'He's young, he's inexperienced,' they say, and they have to say that because they're defending the politics of patronage, and I represent the politics of accountability."

It's not just Fenty's campaign opponents who question his qualifications. Many of his colleagues on the D.C. Council consider him a loose cannon, a showboat, a man without substance. And the District's business elite has lined up behind Cropp, the council chairman, judging her to be the safe candidate, the symbol of continuity. "They have a comfort level with Linda because of long-term relationships," Fenty says. "But it's very pro-business to have someone who's going to root out inefficiency and hold people accountable."

Fenty traces the establishment antipathy to his campaign to two issues: his firm opposition to public funding for a baseball stadium and his effort to declare D.C. restaurants and bars smoke-free. In both cases, Fenty took principled positions and stuck with them against powerful interests. (I happen to disagree with him vehemently on both issues.)

Does that make Fenty antibusiness? Developers in his ward say he has been hugely supportive of their projects, and Fenty stands clearly against the neighborhood reactionaries who try to halt the high-density development so desperately needed around Metro stations in residential areas.

Fenty is young -- 35 -- and he has never managed a big government. But he has the best-run council office and the best-run mayoral campaign. And he grew up in his parents' shoe store in Adams Morgan, one of the most enduring small businesses in a neighborhood where few shops survive for very long.

In recent months, Fenty has visited with some of the nation's top mayors and school superintendents. He talked to New York's Michael Bloomberg about the essence of being a mayor: "service delivery." They discussed the importance of appearing at major crime scenes to show people that the city leader is involved and to spur police into action.

Fenty talked to Miami superintendent Rudy Crew about creating a handful of successful schools to prove that public schools can be fixed. He talked to New York schools boss Joel Klein about how to get rid of lousy teachers ("Pay them to go away" was the answer -- "Whatever it takes to educate the children.")

He talked to San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom about the importance of "unbridled energy and compassion" and the power of taking firm positions on matters of right and wrong.

And while other candidates steer clear of the gay marriage issue for fear of provoking Congress into a bout of District-bashing, Fenty says the issue calls for "courage and doing the right thing."

In a city virtually obsessed with race, Fenty talks about color less than any other candidate. "I certainly don't think about it a lot," he says. He comes from a mixed background -- his father is black, his mother is white -- and he says "there's no question that gives me a tolerance and an appreciation for the views of everyone. I always heard politicians talk about race, but not the people. They were just talking about making sure every neighborhood gets the same attention. People just want elected officials to do their work and end the excuses about why things don't get done.

"We're much too satisfied that we're better than we were," Fenty says of the city. "I am doing this because I think we can be much better. Government, like business, is about follow-through, responsiveness, attention to detail. That's what I do. Some people say I'm too eager. I am very hungry. I want this job more than anybody else."

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