Standing outside the stunning beaux-arts lobby of Richmond's legendary Jefferson Hotel in August, I struck up a conversation with a woman who—noticing my not-from-here accent—offered what she described as the golden rule of talking like a Virginian. In her 50s or 60s, impeccably dressed, and racing to make a dinner reservation at one of the tony restaurants in the city's historic Shockoe Slip, she patiently explained: "If you want to sound like a real Virginian, you just say, 'Bless your heart' after every single sentence. Doesn't matter how mean it is! You just turn to your hairdresser and say, 'I hate this goddamn, stupid haircut, bless your heart,' and you're from Virginia!"
Explanations for the purpling of Virginia are so numerous and complex, the subject has started to bore even Virginians. How is it possible that the heart of the Confederacy, the birthplace of American slavery, and a state that hasn't picked a Democrat for president since Lyndon B. Johnson in 1964, is suddenly very much in play? The question may fascinate pundits elsewhere, but in Virginia, it's more likely to elicit a different answer: "Who knows? Bless your heart."
Polling this month shows John McCain trailing Barack Obama by between two and 10 points, with the most recent polls showing Obama with a 4-point lead. The state that went for George W. Bush twice, without a drop of sweat on his part, is up for grabs.
This has at least something to do with the fact that Obama has treated Virginia to extra-special love-bombing for months now. He has visited the state at least 10 times since the spring (including an appearance in Virginia Beach on Thursday), whereas McCain has stopped by only three times. (Both candidates have scheduled one last visit before Election Day.) Obama has 70 campaign offices scattered throughout the state to McCain's 21. At one point, Obama was outspending McCain on TV ads by a margin of more than 8-to-1. When yet another Obama canvasser knocked on the front door last night, my 3-year-old asked if he was trick-or-treating and handed him some Skittles.
Moreover, there are more than 400,000 newly registered voters in Virginia this year, and while they aren't required to state their party affiliations, 40 percent of them are under 35, a group that skews Obama-ward. But all you really have to do to understand why Virginia is turning purple is to walk down some of those leafy small-town streets in Lynchburg, Danville, Leesburg, or Harrisonburg. These streets may have launched a half-dozen or more presidents, but today they boast Vietnamese restaurants, Brazilian music, and tapas bars.
As a reporter, Bob Gibson, now executive director of the University of Virginia's Sorensen Institute for Political Leadership, covered Virginia politics for more than 30 years. For hundreds of years, he points out, what it meant to be a Virginian was absolutely clear. "It used to take a long time to be accepted as a Virginian," he says. But today, five of 10 Virginians were born out of state, and one in 10 was born in a foreign country. Of those, 40 percent are from Asian countries and 30 percent from Latin America.
And the McCain campaign is well aware—painfully aware, you might say—of this new Virginia. Charlottesville is a notoriously blue city in red Albemarle County, and the McCain office here is staffed by four elderly white volunteers, stuffing mailers, and a young man at a computer. I ask Chris Schoenwald, the Albemarle County Republican chairman, how Virginia turned into a battleground state so quickly and he repeats Gibson's explanation. "Northern Virginia ... Tidewater, these regions have seen a big influx of people from northern states and they have brought Democrat sympathies with them and changed it." But he doesn't believe the changing demographics will change the outcome of the election. "This is still traditional Virginia, though. Even old-line traditional Democrats are pretty conservative."
Others are less sure. Larry J. Sabato, director of the Center for Politics at the University of Virginia, says that the fantastic rate of immigration is "turning Virginia from a Southern state into a Mid-Atlantic state." Instead of being "the northernmost Southern state," he says, Virginia is becoming "the southernmost Northern state." And he notes that the out-of-staters flooding into Virginia are a "highly educated, wealthier population who are fiscal conservatives but liberal when it comes to social policy."