Despite a sophisticated public relations push, political machinations behind closed doors and a great back story, one of the most riveting political campaigns in the General Assembly was quietly laid to rest in sub-committee last week: Ginger Gold will not be Virginia’s first state fruit.
Last spring, Kate Norton’s fourth-grade class at Waynewood Elementary learned that despite a plethora of official symbols — from the state bat to the state boat — there was no state fruit. The class decided to exercise its political muscle and held a hotly debated nomination battle for a candidate. The contest culminated in a May 31 presentation to the school’s two representatives to the General Assembly, Del. Kristen Amundsen (D-44) and State Sen. Toddy Puller(D-36).
The majority of the class had been seduced by the appeal of cantaloupe, a fruit grown in Virginia that no state has claimed as its official mascot. But because of concerns about the electability of such a radical candidate, Norton drummed up support for the apple, particularly the Ginger Gold, a variety that was discovered in Virginia. After multi-media presentations (posters and dessert), Robbie Snow took to the classroom floor and made an eloquent speech in favor of apples, pointing out that they are portable and easy to eat, whereas cantaloupes require laborious slicing through a rind that is awkward to dispose of. And in his closing statement, he revealed the insight of a canny political operative into the General Assembly’s decision-making process. “We grow more. We make more money off it.”
Amundson and Puller were swayed. They unanimously selected the Ginger Gold and promised to introduce legislation on its behalf during this General Assembly session. This winter, the ripples from that decision spread to another corner of the state.
GINGER HARVEY had gone to bed in her Nelson County home when she heard a familiar name on the 11 o’clock news. She learned her namesake apple was a part of the legislative process.
Harvey’s husband Clyde died in 2003. His family has been growing peaches and apples for three generations. When Hurricane Camille swept through in 1969, the Harveys’ orchards in Davis Creek, north of Lovingston in the Blue Ridge Mountains, were wiped out. Salvaging what he could, Clyde Harvey replanted the youngest survivors of the storm. In 1975, those trees had reached maturity, but they were not expected to fruit until the fall. Harvey vividly remembers the July day her husband came home for lunch with a hatful of golden, unexpected apples. “He told me to try one, and it was wonderful.”
A horticulturalist confirmed that it was a completely new breed of apple, probably created when two apples cross-pollinated. The Harveys grafted budding branches from the tree to create an orchard of 100 trees, and negotiated with a nursery to grow even more. “It’s now being grown in just about every apple growing region of the world,” Harvey said, “from one tree!”
After hearing it on the news, she was elated to hear her apple was being considered for state fruit. “I’m so glad that it was children who selected it. That would mean a great deal to my husband.”
BUT GINGER GOLD’S political future looks bleak. Virginia orchards grow many varieties of apple, and Amundson said the Virginia Agribusiness Council was willing to endorse a generic apple as a candidate, but nothing as divisive as the Ginger Gold. Amundson lobbied for the bill before the Rules Committee, where it had been assigned. But in a subcommittee, Ginger Gold’s future was quietly laid to rest. “They listened very respectfully and then they tabled the bill,” Amundson said. “I can go home and tell the children their idea was listened to and given serious consideration.” House Speaker William Howell (R-28), who chairs the Rules Committee, offered to write a letter to the students.
Amundson posited that if the students had brought their rhetorical skills and persuasive spin machine directly to her colleagues, Ginger Gold may have had a shot. But the uphill battle it faced was steep. “I think they were just not ready to deal with a state fruit.”
The class has been writing letters to the committee chairmen in both the House and the Senate. In the face of the major setback teacher Kate Norton was defiant, saying she and her students will only redouble their letter-writing efforts. “I’m not giving up and neither are the kids at Waynewood.”
Norton has put her hopes on the bill in the Senate, and said she can’t understand why the House would kill it. “I’d like to know why and [the students] need to know why.”