Newly sworn-in Virginia Gov. James S. Gilmore III pauses for applause during his inaugural address at the state Capitol. (AP)

By R.H. Melton and Spencer S. Hsu
Washington Post Staff Writers
Sunday, January 18, 1998; Page A1

RICHMOND, Jan. 17 – James Stuart Gilmore III called today for a new era of civility and unity in Virginia politics as he was inaugurated as the state's 68th governor, climaxing a historic and divisive week of legislative skirmishes that cemented the growing power of his fellow Republicans.

In an 18-minute address on the South Portico of the state Capitol, Gilmore broke little new ground, though with a flourish he signed an executive order creating a higher education commission and promised to veto any legislation to alter the welfare-to-work program that his Republican predecessor, George Allen, set in motion.

The new governor also hailed Virginia's 95,000 state government workers – who often were the subjects of barbs from Allen – saying they "need to know that they march by my side."

Today's festivities, which began with a prayer breakfast that drew more than 900 people to a downtown hotel, had a strongly religious and conservative flavor – at times more pungent than Gilmore's organizers wished. Some top Gilmore aides were chagrined when the breakfast's featured evangelical speaker repeatedly denounced abortion, saying at one point, "There is no liberty and no justice for an aborted baby."

Gilmore, who opposes abortion but generally prefers not to focus on sensitive social issues, opened his inaugural address with a prayer and ended the speech by asking for God's blessing on the state and country.

"Including a prayer in that speech took a lot of thought, and he is sending a signal that he is committed to spiritual and moral values," said the Rev. Jerry Falwell, who, with fellow television evangelist Pat Robertson, was among the honored guests in the bleachers behind Gilmore's podium.

And while strongly reiterating the anti-tax message that drove his campaign last fall, Gilmore adopted a studiously mild tone in his speech before about 5,000 people who braved damp, 40-degree weather for more than two hours of ceremony and the traditional parade around Capitol Square.

He reached out to regions such as Northern Virginia and invoked native sons Thomas Jefferson and Patrick Henry – both former Virginia governors – as models for the state's leadership heading into the 21st century.

"I am humbled to stand in the shadow of Virginia's great governors," Gilmore said.

He cast himself as a friend to Northern Virginia, while stressing his commitment to the poorest rural areas of the state. In one discourse on the proposed car-tax rollback that helped propel him to the Executive Mansion, Gilmore said that "the father commuting from Dale City to Dulles with despair in the little time he spends with his children is reason enough for us to make his commute as easy as we can" through tax relief.

At another point, he said, "Let us advance into the 21st century united, leaving behind the 20th-century barrier of regionalism. The success of Northern Virginia depends on the success of Southwest Virginia."

Gilmore, natty in pearl-gray morning coat with white boutonniere, his breath visible in the chilly air, seemed unusually relaxed in the throng. He broke with tradition by having his parents, as well as his wife, Roxane, and young sons, Jay and Ashton, at his side when he took the oath of office.

He echoed the strong anti-tax message of last year's campaign, and although unity was his theme – he said "unity" or "united" five times during the short speech – he was clearly savoring the ascension of Virginia's GOP as a force in state politics.

Yet his tone and rhetoric were dramatically different than that of Allen, who punched at Democrats for much of the first half of his four-year term.

Gilmore seemed to be trying to soothe the hard feelings of a bruising, week-long fight in the General Assembly about how an evenly divided legislature should function during its new 60-day session. It was a battle that Gilmore helped to create by appointing Democratic lawmakers to his administration, freeing up House seats that were taken over by the GOP, which then pressed Democrats into an agreement to share power in the chamber for the first time.

"As we move into a new millennium, we ask you most of all to unite us as one Virginia," Gilmore said in his prayer. "May our debates be characterized by civility, fairness and justice."

Democrats generally praised the inaugural address. "A good speech, more gentle and genteel than four years ago," said Del. C. Richard Cranwell (Roanoke), the Democratic floor leader in the House.

Republican activists heard a different message, a call to capture even more legislative seats and local offices for the GOP.

"The Democrats might as well get used to being on the run," said Joseph P. Underwood, who traveled here from Fairfax County, where he is the local Republican Party chairman. "Gilmore helped build the momentum that got us to parity in the General Assembly and swept the statewide elections. And we're going to keep pushing on."

Also sworn in today were Republicans Mark L. Earley, as attorney general, and John H. Hager, as lieutenant governor. Hager, who has used a wheelchair since a bout with polio, drew a burst of cheers and thunderous applause as he maneuvered his way up a ramp for his swearing-in.

The day was full of colorful pomp and political pageantry. A Colonial-style fife and drum corps escorted Gilmore to the podium. Allen departed during a bone-rattling, 19-gun salute, heading up the Capitol steps and into private life as a corporate lawyer at a huge Richmond firm.

There were dozens and dozens of fur coats in the crowd, and House Speaker Thomas W. Moss Jr. (D-Norfolk) led the elaborately scripted proceedings with his usual dose of wry.

"You got to keep it moving," he cracked at one point as he hurried the ceremony along.

Although many Democratic partisans withheld applause during Gilmore's speech, there was an atmosphere of fellowship as political rivals and aging comrades sat side by side for the quadrennial ritual. The VIPs included most of the state's members of Congress, a slew of former governors and other statewide officeholders and a healthy number of statewide political wannabes, including former U.S. Senate hopeful, Republican Oliver L. North.

"It's the inaugural, so everybody has a good time, regardless of what party you're in," said Don Harris, the lobbyist here for the Inova Health System, which has four hospitals in Northern Virginia.

Charles M. Davis II, a former gubernatorial press secretary turned lobbyist, said he welcomed "the harmony you see here. With all this real angry rhetoric in the last 72 hours, nobody wants to be the first bad guy out of the blocks."

Jeff Smethurst, a detention center teacher who grew up in Fairfax County, brought his wife and their children, ages 9, 7 and 5, from Williamsburg for the show.

"We thought it would be neat to see," he said. "And the kids are so young, we'll probably be back for the next one."

Jay Lemons traveled here from a county on the Kentucky border, where he is chancellor of Clinch Valley College of the University of Virginia – and a close student of state education funding.

"Very clearly [Gilmore] has a strong commitment to higher education – look at the blue-ribbon commission," Lemons said. "He himself is the first generation in his family to graduate college."

The son of a butcher and a church secretary, Gilmore took pains to point out his humble roots growing up in the Richmond suburbs, where he worked in groceries and as a bank teller. "Abraham Lincoln said God must love the common people because he made so many of them," Gilmore said.

"Well, God has blessed this common man with a truly uncommon chance to serve the people."

Those closest to Gilmore said they have noticed very subtle changes in his demeanor as the inauguration loomed, at once more relaxed than his usual reserved self, while at the same time charged up about today and the next four years.

The softer side came toward the end of a fly-around tour of the state this week, at a stop at St. John's Church here, the site of Patrick Henry's "Give me liberty or give me death!" speech.

Gilmore, a history buff, was speaking to an audience that had just seen a reenactment of the speech, and as he described how he now understood what it meant to "stand on the shoulders of giants" as Virginia's governor, his eyes welled with tears.

Earlier, at a "No Car Tax!" hoedown Thursday night, the normally staid Gilmore took to the dance floor and did the twist to "Mack the Knife."

The rest of the weekend was not going to be all play, though. Gilmore planned to put the finishing touches on Monday night's State of the Commonwealth speech that will outline his administration's vision in more detail. And he and his aides will be trying to figure out how Republicans can get the most from a General Assembly where Democrats are on the defensive.

As Falwell put it in the inaugural afterglow: "All the doors are knocked down now."