[Cross-posted at
Raising Kaine]
There's more of it. And like a mess of noxious, foul-smelling decayed matter that lay at the bottom of memory for years, more has already risen to the surface than we've been told.
What if you're someone who heard George Allen say those things? It's not the kind of thing you want to dredge up and talk about. And would anyone believe you? Why risk retaliation from a very powerful politician with a taste for violent rhetoric ("we're going to knock their soft teeth down their whiny throats") and violent symbols (a noose in his office), when no, you didn't have a tape recorder when you heard him say it? Why risk what his supporters might do to you and your family?
But you can't forget. It lies there, rotting, at the bottom of your memory, still exhaling its nauseous stench. And so when former Allen teammates come forward with their memories, and an anthropology professor does the same--something stirs in your memory, too; something foul and evil-smelling and too-long undisturbed. So you sit down at the keyboard and this is what you write:
I knew George well enough to be on a first name basis with him back in the early 90's when I was active in the Charlottesville Republican Committee. . . . In an adjoining conference room there were Mexican-Americans who were selling western ware. As I stood talking with George . . . the chairman suggested that George may want to look at some of the cowboy boots for sale in the other room as we knew of his affinity for the footwear. His response floored me. He looked at us both and said in a condescending tone that he would not buy anything from those "wetbacks."
That's if you're a courageous and principled man--a truly honorable Virginia Republican--named Forrest R. Cook.
Or this:
In two converstions I had with my College classmate George Allen on The Lawn in front of Newcombe Hall at The University of Virginia in early 1974 he used the N-word describing "Arabs" as "sandn***s" at least a dozen times.
That's if you're a courageous and honorable UVA alum named Will Jones.
Or this:
I have a very specific memory of a conversation I had with George Allen when he was in law school at UVA, in which he used similar language -- much to my shock at the time. In my case, I can give time and place, as it occurred at a Ford-Carter election night party at the home of a mutual friend. I might add that I have told some people about this throughout the years -- most recently I talked to Tyler Whitley of the Richmond Times Dispatch about it a few weeks ago when he asked me why I was supporting Jim Webb in this campaign.
That's if you're a courageous Virginia homemaker named Ellen G. Hawkins--in which case you also tell your story to the New York Times.
Or maybe, if you've seen a good friend of yours have the guts to come forward and get accused of lying about a memory of George Allen stuffing a deer head in a black family's mailbox, you say this:
I just think Kenny Shelton is a fine, upstanding person, and I know he is telling the truth. . . . Some time drinking a beer at U Heights, . . . Lanahan [the now-deceased other man with Allen during the deer-head episode] told me they went hunting and killed a deer. All I know is they cut off a deer head and stuck it in someone's mailbox. . . . He didn't say it was racial -- just said they stuck it in a mailbox as a prank.
That's if you're a courageous UVA alum and loyal friend named George Beam--and the fact that you don't sensationalize your memory by claiming the racial angle adds credibility to both yourself and Dr. Shelton.
There will surely be others, but is this not enough? Enough that George Allen spewed filth years ago from his own vile throat and left it to rot and stink in others' memories for years. Enough that what he said has polluted good and honorable people's memories of him, of their experiences of college life, of their experience of service in local politics. Enough.
The scum is rising to the surface at last, more and more of it, leaving behind memories cleansed and a mirror as clear as pure water in which to take the measure of George Allen's fitness to lead his commonwealth, his country, or the world.