Lobby Day in Richmond
An odyssey like no other
For 24 years, MLK Day in Richmond has served as a rally day for both the gun lobby and the advocates for sensible gun laws. Morning is reserved for the 2nd Amendment absolutists and the afternoon is allocated for those of us pushing common sense legislation. Perhaps the General Assembly chose to entertain the competing sides in this manner so they could get the venting out of the way in a single day.
My first time at the event was in 2016. Barbara and I spoke to the crowd rallying on the capitol grounds, but every year since we’re there to support the organizers and to give “atta boys” to our friends in the legislature who keep fighting the good fight.
In 2017, we decided to get to the General Assembly building that morning to make the rounds before the afternoon rally. Barbara, Peter Read, who lost his daughter at the Virginia Tech mass shooting, and I stood in the security line comprised almost entirely of people wearing “Guns Save Lives” and NRA hats. We weren’t wearing our “Background Checks Saves Lives” sticker at that point, so the handful of people walking the line to get signatures for their candidates to be on the ballot just assumed we were on their team.
One large man in a suit approached me and told me he was running for Lt. Governor and would I sign his petition. I told him no. “Sorry, I’m Alison Parker’s dad---the reporter who was murdered in Roanoke.” He was taken aback and said, “Oh, so sorry. I’m from Roanoke”, but then he persisted. “It’s just to get on the ballot”, he explained. Peter, whose daughter was killed at Virginia Tech said, “We’re not your people”, and the befuddled man finally moved on.
After declining a few more petitioners, we entered the building and split up to make our visits. The halls were crawling with people. It was a cross between a biker’s convention, a casting call for Duck Dynasty, or a remake of Deliverance. And it smelled like it too.
Barbara and I were the last to get on a packed elevator. I couldn’t turn around, so I faced all the occupants, many of whom were openly carrying handguns. How in the civilized world can this be? I thought. The man directly in front of me had dropped something, and as he stood back up, I noticed a Glock strapped to his waist. It’s hard to believe one could open carry in a government building, but that was the law before it was banned in 2021. He was wearing NRA badges and other accouterments that proclaimed to the world he was a real badass.
After a few beats, he looked up at me and said with unmistakable dripping sarcasm “You know… you look like a famous actor”. It caught me completely by surprise, but knowing exactly what he meant I managed to come back with “…and you look like you spend a lot of time on the internet”. It was all I could come up with but probably the best response. After the fact, I thought of all the things I could have said like “Yeah, you busted me. I’m that fake crisis actor all right. But I hope the therapy you’re getting for SDS (Short Dick Syndrome) is helping.” In the end, it wouldn’t have wise to go that route with a nut job and an elevator full of his equally smelly armed friends.
We said hello to a few of our legislative friends who were in their offices and not in a committee meeting. One of which was then Senator Dick Saslaw, a crusty veteran of the General Assembly since 1976. He’s also got a wicked sense of humor and can cuss with the same sailor’s ferocity as me. He was headed out the door for a caucus meeting and his aide asked if he could spare a quick minute for us to say hello. “Sure, come on in” and he walked us back into his office. We were there for 10 minutes while he told stories. You can do that when you’re the Senate minority leader. It was great.
It was time for the rally at the bell tower on the capitol grounds, and as we waited for the speakers to start we heard a familiar voice behind us. It was Amy McPike, the sister-in-law of Jeremy McPike, a senator we had campaigned to elect in 2015. She had another woman in tow. “Andy, this is Samantha Villegas. She joined Moms because of Alison”. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Samantha told us how much she admired our courage and was glad to be part of the effort. As I’ve done so many times over the last year, I gave her a big hug.
Even today, Alison’s death continues to be a tipping point and an emotional trigger for people we meet. Ironically we find ourselves holding it together while others have that moment to fall apart. Good to do, but hard to do because it takes such an emotional toll.
It was getting late in the day and time to head to the Capital Ale House for some well-deserved refreshments. I realized Barbara and I needed to see then-Senator John Edwards before we left. He had been one of my favorite whipping boys since Alison’s death—one of the last of the old-school democrats who still resisted reasonable gun legislation. But a funny thing happened. He was introducing gun bills for our side. They weren’t groundbreaking, but for him it was revolutionary.
By now, most of the lobbyists from both sides had cleared out, and Edwards came out to greet us. It was a Nixon goes to China moment. After the blistering I’d given him in public last summer, I never imagined I’d be walking into his office. “Senator, I’ve been rough on you for a while now”, I said.
He smiled and said, “Hey, that comes with the territory. You were in politics once, so you know”.
“I do for sure, and I still catch it for my position on guns. But I feel it’s important to let you know when you’re doing good things. And you are. And we appreciate it”.
A big smile broke out on his face. And from there we just talked about art and other stuff. No politics, just human interaction. We gathered for a selfie and bid him farewell.
As we were leaving the building a couple of capitol police officers were standing along the exit corridor. “Good night guys”, I said as I passed them. One of them replied, “Goodnight, Mr. Parker.” I was as thrown off as I had been in the elevator earlier in the day, only in a good way.
“Thank you for what you do”, I said.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. I think about you and Alison a lot”, he replied. Wow.
It was a day that ran the gamut from cruelty to redemption, to grace.
By MLK Day 2024 much had changed. Much had not. Thanks to a Virginia General Assembly controlled by Democrats in 2021, much of the good legislation we had been pushing for became law. MAGA Republicans are still determined to undo all of that in favor of guns everywhere for anyone who can fog a mirror.
As I stated in an interview for Cardinal News, this year with Glen Youngkin poised with his veto pen, banning assault weapons will probably not happen and MAGA bills will be killed by the Democratic majority before they see the light of day. Unless Trumpkin does something uncharacteristic, it’s going to be a stalemate this year. But better than going backward.
And every year I’ll be at Lobby Day fighting the good fight. Alison would expect nothing less.
That's spelled "odyssey." named after Odysseus' epic wanderings.