Fundraising Skills a Blessing and a Burden

After his defeat, Silverman put his political energies into efforts to build a new Montgomery Blair High School and revitalize Silver Spring. But in mid-1997, when scandal forced a prominent council candidate to leave the race, Silverman saw an opportunity. He won support from business people, worked hard to get endorsements and spent little of his own money.

In the September 1998 primary for the four at-large seats on the council, Silverman placed fourth, fewer than 700 votes ahead of the next contender. Winning elective office for the first time since student council, Silverman stepped back from his law practice, and what he says was an income of about $200,000 a year, to devote himself to his political career. By the end of 2001, according to Silverman and former partner Thomas Schild, the latter had purchased Silverman's share of the business.

During his first term, he faced a vote that forced him to choose between the business community and wage-earners. Despite a pledge he signed during the 1998 campaign to back a "living wage" law, he cast the deciding vote against such a measure in 1999.

Consideration of the bill followed the passage of a smoking ban, which had angered the business community. Silverman said that his opposition to the living wage was not connected to the smoking ban but that the living wage had created an overly divisive climate. "If I had voted for the bill, there would have been winners and losers," he said.

He supported a second living-wage initiative in 2001, and today his campaign literature cites the law as an example of his "bringing people together, getting results."

Silverman is considered a talented politician, a natural-born dealmaker and a leader who declares his goals early and fights for them.

A member of the 2002 "End Gridlock" slate backed by County Executive Douglas M. Duncan (D), Silverman joined Duncan in promising to alleviate traffic by building roads, including the intercounty connector, which recently won federal approval. In the 2002 primary, Silverman was the leading vote-getter among at-large candidates, receiving more than twice as many votes as he had in the 1998 race.

Silverman's emphasis on the Purple Line echoes Duncan's focus on the connector, promoting solutions to assuage concerns about the pace of growth -- and the influence of developers' political money.

Leggett, too, has long received contributions from the building industry; but in this campaign, he has said he will take no more than 25 percent from such sources. Silverman says he refuses to demonize developers and wonders whether people will see any real difference between a candidate who takes a third of his funding from developers and one taking two thirds.

He makes no apologies for his embrace of the business community, developers included, and quotes the late Sen. Paul E. Tsongas of Massachusetts, who warned fellow Democrats that it didn't make sense to "be pro-jobs . . . and hate employers."

Even so, Silverman's friends are worried that he could pay a price for pro-development decisions that predate Silverman's tenure on the council, not to mention his own growth-friendly record. "There's a certain element of the population that cannot wait to cast what is nothing more than an iconic vote against the past," Simmons said.

When events go against him, Silverman is not afraid to display his feelings. After Leggett published a list of 2,300 supporters on his Web site in August, Silverman was surprised by some of the names. One was Duchy Trachtenberg, an at-large council candidate who said Silverman called her and seemed "genuinely upset" that she'd allowed her name to be used.

She said she told him he shouldn't be spending time comparing his list with Leggett's. Silverman, asked about this exchange, said determining the loyalty of some political players was important. "It actually is something I need to find out about," he said firmly.

Silverman brims with so much natural energy he switches to decaf after the first cup of coffee of the day. He burns off some of his exuberance during regular bouts of racquetball against Simmons.

Silverman applies himself to the game in the same way he plays politics -- with power and feeling, lots and lots of both.

"Yes!" he exulted after scoring a point, unleashing a triumphant staccato: "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha." After losing a point, his zeal turned to anguish. "You're killing me," he moaned.

Simmons, 57, executing subtle shots that Silverman couldn't return, won two of three games during a recent Sunday match squeezed in between campaign events. "When you're older," Simmons explained with a wink, "you have to be a little foxier."