Return to Virginia Business - January 2003

by Marjolijn Bijlefeld

Related stories:
- This session, it's budget, budget, budget
- Mark Warner: on the budget crisis and plans for a "debate" to set funding priorities

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Bill Howell works in a log cabin that he and his wife Cessie found years ago in Fauquier County and had moved to a hill overlooking the Rappahannock River. There, he is surrounded by books and the solitude of a solo law practice.

Such serenity, however, will become a sweet memory on Jan. 8. On that day, when the General Assembly gavels into session, Howell’s GOP colleagues will make him speaker of the House of Delegates. Howell, 59, is replacing Vance Wilkins, who resigned his powerful speaker’s post last June amid allegations of sexual misconduct. A prime reason Howell was courted for the job is that, unlike Wilkins, he’s squeaky clean.

His reputation has helped the GOP’s image, but that was the easy part. Howell, who admits he’ll miss his 15 years of “sitting on the back row” in relative anonymity in the legislature is about to step into the middle of a maelstrom. He must steer his own party, dominant but splintered after a bruising fight over tax referendums, through a budget deficit. Plus, he has to forge a relationship with a Democratic governor he barely knows. And he’s a rookie to the job. “It isn’t something I sought but it’s something I’m excited about,” he says.

In person Howell is thoughtful and smiles easily, and is a bit formal. He puts on a suit jacket before sitting for an interview. He enjoys talking about his office cabin, which has a cozy elegance. A fire crackles in a stone fireplace that dominates one wall and classical music plays softly. Atop a bookshelf is a parade of small elephant figurines.
Most impressive, however, are the stuffed animals scattered around — a coyote, an owl, a deer head. Howell doesn’t hunt but has built the collection over the years through gifts and his own finds. This is where Howell practices his law specialty — wills and trusts and probate. He started the practice 13 years ago in part to deal with the time demands of being in the General Assembly, and to avoid legislative conflicts. Howell previously worked in commercial banking at a Fredericksburg bank. It’s a quiet occupation; he works with clients and only rarely with other lawyers. “I’ve never been to court,” he says.

In fact, Howell’s tempered style may be good for the GOP — the party controls the General Assembly and doesn’t need an in-your-face conservative to lead the charge. Even Democrats concede that point. “He’s committed to making sure that the train runs on schedule and on track,” says Del. Joe Johnson, D-Abingdon, who worked with Howell on the courts of justice committee. “I do not think he’s so partisan politically that he would let that interfere with doing the job.”
Nor is he expected to micromanage. “Vance Wilkins was much more involved with sticking his nose into the appropriations process than Bill Howell will ever do,” says Del. Vincent Callahan, R-Fairfax County, and chair of the appropriations committee. “I don’t think he’ll try to interfere with this committee or any other committee.”

Howell’s relationships in Richmond extend beyond committee work. Six years ago he started a Wednesday morning Bible study group that gathers in a seventh-floor meeting room in the General Assembly building. Close to two dozen people attend, a mix of legislators, lobbyists and staff. “Bill always conducts them,” says Del. Harry Parrish, R-Manassas, who is a regular attendee. “You get to know someone more intimately than in the everyday. You couldn’t ask for a finer person to be speaker.” Howell grew up in Fairfax and moved to Stafford 25 years ago. He studied business at the University of Richmond and earned his law degree at the University of Virginia.
Back in his district, which covers parts of Stafford and the city of Fredericksburg, his business friends are glad to see Howell move to the front. Fred M. Rankin, III, CEO of MediCorp Health Systems in Fredericksburg, calls Howell a “man of deep integrity. What’s needed in Virginia now are thoughtful people, not opportunistic people.”

Howell says he wants “to encourage civility and less rancor” in the legislature, but he does have a clear conservative agenda. To him the budget crisis — which has sparked fear about spending cuts — is an opportunity to pare government to its core mission of education, public safety, helping the “truly needy,” creating job opportunities and investing in infrastructure. “We’ve strayed from those in the past 10 years when income was flowing in unprecedented amounts,” he says.

Under the guise of economic development, the state gave money in recent years to scores of projects such as the Virginia Horse Center in Lexington, an arts center in Richmond and the Nauticus museum program on Norfolk’s waterfront. It shouldn’t have, he says. Had the state set aside its extra revenue during the past decade “we would have more than a $1 billion” saved, he says. He wants to develop a way to invest surplus funds in the future.

Certainly Howell has allies in the GOP’s rising anti-tax, small government crowd, but what of those in the party who don’t agree? The two transportation funding referendums in Northern Virginia and Hampton Roads were rejected by voters but had strong backing among many GOP legislators. In the coming session one Republican state delegate, James H. Dillard II, R-Fairfax County, is planning to propose a 1 cent sales tax hike to help pay for public education. Howell doesn’t talk like a man who favors a purge of the dissidents. The GOP split “is going to be a challenge,” he says, adding that intra-party fights “make me very uncomfortable as leader of the House caucus. I believe we’re the party of the big tent.”

Standing outside the tent is Howell’s biggest adversary, Democratic Gov. Mark Warner. Even here the timing of Howell’s rise to power is fortuitous. The budget crisis has stymied whatever spending instincts Warner might have had. For better or worse he’ll be presiding over a shrinking state government. In addition, Warner likes to make the same friendly noises as Howell. “The size and depth of our fiscal challenges are so great that we don’t have time for partisan politics,” says Warner. “If we’re going to get Virginia moving forward again it’s going to take ... cooperation between both parties.” Warner developed a rapport with former speaker Wilkins that helped smooth the way to a deal over the $3.8 billion deficit in the last session. Howell and Warner, though, are nearly strangers. The two hadn’t met before Howell emerged as Wilkins’ successor; they have held several meetings since then.

Howell knows he has the upper hand. Warner “realizes we have a strong majority and he knows he has to work with us, and we obviously want to work with him.” But making nice doesn’t mean Howell can’t throw an elbow. In October, just days before Warner announced his budget-balancing plan, Howell was among the House Republican leaders who held a press conference blasting Warner for a lack of leadership. “On issues we don’t agree on, we’ll oppose him,” Howell says.

As the session draws near, it’s not just Warner who wants to get to know him. “Everybody kind of wants to see me now,” Howell says, laughing. Before his emergence “no one knew me. For 15 years I was under the radar.” There’s no going back now, though. For the next four months, everyone is watching.

Return to Virginia Business - January 2003