The man pictured here may be a candidate for the television commercial that asks: "Do you know me?"
If you don't, chances are you are part of the New Demographics in The New Dominion.
At a post-mortem at his campaign headquarters here, losing gubernatorial candidate Wyatt B. Durrette noted that many Virginians had moved to the state in the last 10 years.
Many of those new Virginians live in what Durrette calls the "urban crescent," which stretches from Hampton Roads through Richmond to Northern Virginia. By education and environment, in architecture and attitude, this region and its residents appear to have more in common with the East of Washington and Baltimore than with the old South.
The "urban crescent" folks cheer for the Redskins, shop at Britches and Loehmann's, put their money in the same banks (largely because Norfolk and Richmond financial institutions are merging with, and in most instances taking over, Washington and Maryland ones), drive Toyotas and Nissans (most of them imported through Norfolk), sit in traffic jams (which Durrette apparently forgot when he asserted that "you haven't seen a traffic jam until you've been to Northern Virginia") and don't know, or care, about Mills E. Godwin and Harry Flood Byrd Jr. By the way, that's a photo of Godwin, the only person twice elected governor of Virginia (as a Democrat in 1965 and then as a Republican in 1973).
"The New Dominion," as Gov.-elect Gerald L. Baliles has dubbed it, also extends to many out-of-the-way places. Fast food restaurants, convenience stores, video shops and chain motels are sprouting everywhere: A bumper sticker at Durrette headquarters proclaims, "Yes, Virginia, there is a Ramada Inn in Duffield."
The Shenandoah Valley is preparing to share its crystal-clear water with Coors beer at the same time that environmentalists are warning the Rockingham County Board of Supervisors about stream and forest pollution; animal rights advocates put up roadblocks at turkey processing plants; high-tech firms are finding welcome mats in mountain towns and, yes, women have enrolled at Washington and Lee University.
Even in Farmville, which will never be accused of being the Berkeley of the South, a trendy new restaurant, Studebaker's, is operated by a Kennedy Democrat from Massachusetts who has found a ready market for white wine and quiche, if not his politics.
Yet Durrette often campaigned with Godwin this fall and frequently those appearances took him to Southside, the one area where Godwin's role in championing Virginia's "Massive Resistance" to public school desegregation during the late '50s and early '60s is still remembered, and, by some, revered. Durrette said he was mystified by the furor his association with Godwin created during the campaign.
Durrette regards Godwin as one of the elder statesmen of Virginia and a man who left his racial views behind him decades ago. Moreover, he complained privately that the media never paid much attention to the times when he rejected Godwin's advice, such as his refusal to endorse state Sen. John H. Chichester of Stafford County, another Godwin protege, before he won the GOP nomination for lieutenant governor.
Yet last month when Godwin and Durrette campaigned together, a black newspaper said: There He Goes Again.
The paper was commenting on Godwin's statement that the Democratic candidate for lieutenant governor, L. Douglas Wilder, "even tried to repeal our beloved state song." The Godwin comment may have ranked as the biggest blunder of what some dubbed Durrette's "blunderful" campaign, angering blacks and portraying the former governor as leading a racial attack on Wilder.
Similarly, despite surveys that show that TV evangelist Jerry Falwell has one of the highest negative ratings of any Virginian, Durrette said he didn't reject the Lynchburg preacher's endorsement of his views on abortion, capital punishment, etc., because "those are issues a lot of people care about."
Yet Durrette cites demographic changes -- more evolution than revolution -- in downplaying the significance of the victories of a black, Wilder, as lieutenant governor, and a woman, Mary Sue Terry, as state attorney general.
Before anyone gets the idea, however, that all traces of the Old South are gone, listen to George Daugherty, a retired tobacco farmer.
At a Republican breakfast at the Mountain Empire Restaurant in Weber City, on the Tennessee line, Daugherty told a reporter that "if the colored boy wins, darkies all over the South will get the same idea."
With sentiment like that lingering, it was understandable that shortly after he set off on his two-month trip around the state, Wilder was concerned when a station wagon full of men approached his car from behind at high speed.
Wilder told his son, who was driving, to "step on it," but the car full of strangers caught up, and its occupants waved them over.
As Wilder prepared for the worst, one of the men rolled down a window and called, "Aren't you Senator Wilder?"
"I am," Wilder replied.
"Well," said the man, "you missed our town back there. We've got a crowd of folks waiting to meet you."
Welcome to The New Dominion.