Path: bloom-picayune.mit.edu!snorkelwacker.mit.edu!americast.com!americast.com!americast-post Newsgroups: americast.twt.life From: americast-post@AmeriCast.Com Organization: American Cybercasting Approved: americast-post@AmeriCast.com Subject: Arkansans sense a void with end of Clinton era Date: Fri, 6 Nov 92 11:28:29 EST Message-ID: \SE E;LIFE \HD Arkansans sense a void with end of Clinton era \BY Sean Piccoli \CR THE WASHINGTON TIMES \DT LITTLE ROCK, Ark. LITTLE ROCK, Ark. - "Levy Day" at old Doyle Venable's lumberyard in nearby Levy always brought out the populist in every politician. Every year, on one weekend between the primary and general elections, local pols including Arkansas Gov. Bill Clinton would make the trip to Venable Lumber Co. to mingle with Levyites in a tradition that is woven into the state's political fabric. But even traditions change. Venable Lumber Co. still hosts "Levy Day." But the grizzled, cigar-chewing Mr. Venable died in January, and Mr. Clinton just got elected president. And yesterday, one day after Arkansas' biggest, brightest moment in the sun, Mr. Venable's helper and bookkeeper of 30 years, Martha Parchman, briefly mused on life in what Mr. Clinton called "this wonderful, small state" without him at its political helm. "I'm sort of excited about it," she said, still wearing the blush of her governor's presidential victory. "I don't know what it [Mr. Clinton's leaving] is going to do to us. But he had wanted this for so long, and I'm just glad he won." She added, "I don't think that he will ever get out of touch with the people of Arkansas." Still, some folks sensed a void, an opening created by the impending departure of the handsome, charismatic man who defined Arkansas politics for all but two of the past 14 years and was the crucible for many, if not all, Arkansans' hopes for better days. The void was illustrated quickly enough, first in a court dispute that has materialized over whether Mr. Clinton's lieutenant governor has the right to succeed him under the Arkansas constitution. One local talk-radio personality fretted about Mr. Clinton's leaving. And a few people even talked about a period of mourning. His political enemies might say good riddance, except that now he has got control of the federal dole. His tormentors in the local media, columnists like Paul Greenberg and John Robert Starr, have to find another focus for their pointed words. So for just about everyone here, there is something to miss in the golden boy everybody knows as "Bill." "There will definitely be a void," said Little Rock postal worker Mike Lee, 39, a Clinton supporter. "I've always thought of him as a big brother. But I don't think we'll be without him. He'll always be with us, even if he's gone for eight years." In a political sense, that may be true. The governor has had a firm grip on the state's politics and institutions since 1978. "It's not the Democratic Party [in Arkansas]," said Noel Oman, political editor at the Arkansas Democrat Gazette. "It's the Clinton Party." Indeed, the governor has had his finger on almost every button, every operational control of the state's political machine. Along with Orval Faubus, his was one of the longest political reigns in the state since Reconstruction. Even when he set his sights beyond Little Rock to the White House, his challenge for national office became a symbol of Arkansas pride, a boost for a small, rural state where people like to think they know their politicians as neighbors or old friends. "I think Bill Clinton truly made a difference in this state, just in terms of bringing this little rural state into the mainstream of the world," said Guy Couch, touring director of the Arkansas Repertory Theatre in Little Rock. But others say the world outside Little Rock has occupied Mr. Clinton more fully of late than his own state and, to that extent, his push to the presidency has been a logical course away from the intimacy of political life here. "My impression is . . . that all Bill Clinton was, was somebody that everybody had strong feelings about one way or another," said Bob Lancaster, columnist for the weekly Arkansas Times. "But as a practical person in people's everyday lives, he really was at some kind of a remove. There was a distance between him and the populace that doesn't exist with somebody like, say, our two [U.S.] senators." During the state's last legislative session, Mr. Lancaster said, "there was a sense that Clinton . . . was somewhere else, mentally, even physically. He wasn't here a whole lot of the time. He didn't put his stamp on the state politics over the last few years, except on a very few particular issues." He added, "I think people have been accustomed to that. His departing will not really change the state that much." Try telling that to Jitter and Diane Krippendorf, Clinton supporters from Little Rock who, festooned with buttons and waving pennants, celebrated at the president-elect's last campaign rally Tuesday night. They will miss him terribly, they said. But they like to think he'll stay close and won't forget where he came from. "We've still got our favorite son," said Mrs. Krippendorf. "I'll tell you what," said Mr. Krippendorf, 56, a printer. "We're both [he and Mr. Clinton] going to retire in eight years. Then we'll go fishing in Hot Springs. We'll go build his library." This article is copyright 1992 The Washington Times. Redistribution to other sites is not permitted except by arrangement with American Cybercasting Corporation. For more information, send-email to usa@AmeriCast.COM