Allen Ends A Career
Exit, Stage Right
Posted: November 20, 2012
George Allen loved to vist the Valley. Folks in these parts undoubtedly recall Mr. Allen, during his U.S. Senate tenure, stopping by Jess’ Quick Lunch to eat a chili dog and press the flesh.
Mr. Allen also favored a business in Winchester — Bartley’s on the Old Town Mall — to repair his signature cowboy boots. So we grew accustomed to seeing him often.
But now George Felix Allen is no more, at least as far as running for office is concerned. Last week, a few days after the eleciton, Mr. Allen announced his departure from the electoral arena.
Though understandable, the decision carries a certain jolt, coming from a man whose age, 60, suggests political prime. A decade ago, such a scenario would have been difficult to envision. The sky seemed the limit for Mr. Allen, whose name was oft mentioned in the same breath as the words “White House.”
But then came that August day in 2006 when, at a senatorial campaign event in Breaks, he uttered a word which altered that trajectory and, in no small way, halted a career. “Macaca,” used to address a “tracker” in the camp of opponent Jim Webb, is now part of the American political lexicon.
Seemingly unbeatable until that moment, Mr. Allen lost that race by fewer than 9,000 votes. Six years later, he was back, fighting to reclaim that same seat, albeit as a different man — one more measured and tempered, and obviously chastened by humbling defeat. His convictions unchanged, he spread the same gospel — rock-ribbed conservatism emphasizing freedom and opportunity — but the fire had been damped, perhaps internally.
George Allen’s place in Virginia’s rich political history is unquestioned, or should be. As governor back in the ’90s, he successfully crusaded for big ideas — welfare reform, abolition of parole and truth-in-sentencing, academic accountability — and so his legacy is far from insignificant.
Still, as he exits — stage right, of course — a specter seems to follow. The specter of “what might have been.”
Mr. Allen also favored a business in Winchester — Bartley’s on the Old Town Mall — to repair his signature cowboy boots. So we grew accustomed to seeing him often.
But now George Felix Allen is no more, at least as far as running for office is concerned. Last week, a few days after the eleciton, Mr. Allen announced his departure from the electoral arena.
Though understandable, the decision carries a certain jolt, coming from a man whose age, 60, suggests political prime. A decade ago, such a scenario would have been difficult to envision. The sky seemed the limit for Mr. Allen, whose name was oft mentioned in the same breath as the words “White House.”
But then came that August day in 2006 when, at a senatorial campaign event in Breaks, he uttered a word which altered that trajectory and, in no small way, halted a career. “Macaca,” used to address a “tracker” in the camp of opponent Jim Webb, is now part of the American political lexicon.
Seemingly unbeatable until that moment, Mr. Allen lost that race by fewer than 9,000 votes. Six years later, he was back, fighting to reclaim that same seat, albeit as a different man — one more measured and tempered, and obviously chastened by humbling defeat. His convictions unchanged, he spread the same gospel — rock-ribbed conservatism emphasizing freedom and opportunity — but the fire had been damped, perhaps internally.
George Allen’s place in Virginia’s rich political history is unquestioned, or should be. As governor back in the ’90s, he successfully crusaded for big ideas — welfare reform, abolition of parole and truth-in-sentencing, academic accountability — and so his legacy is far from insignificant.
Still, as he exits — stage right, of course — a specter seems to follow. The specter of “what might have been.”