No Race In The Mountains

By CBSNews.com's Stephen Smith

She frets about property taxes, crowded neighborhoods and pandering Democrats (or "the mafia," as she calls them).

She's upset by what she perceives as the erosion of conservative values and she's miffed by the migration of "freaks" into her city.

"It's become Berkeley," says Arbor, 51. "And I despise Berkeley."

But Arbor is mostly worried that on Nov. 8, when Asheville, N.C., elects its next mayor, no one will show up at the polls.

"People feel like even if they vote, it doesn't make a difference," she says.

Arbor's concern is not unfounded. Residents here are lamenting an overriding sense of political apathy. Some say it is fueled by ennui, others by cynicism. Whatever the reason, only 9,698 of Asheville's 57,541 registered voters cast a ballot in last month's primary — a paltry 16.9 percent.

But those who did voted for two candidates who make for an intriguing study in contrasts. The primary's top vote getter, Terry Bellamy, is a 33-year-old Democrat. The runner-up, Joe Dunn, is a 61-year-old Republican. Bellamy is a working mother with two children, Dunn a retired dentist with two grandchildren. Bellamy is black; Dunn is white.

In some ways, the mayoral race mirrors Asheville's complex character. This is a city that Money magazine named one of the "Best Places to Retire." It is also a town that Rolling Stone proclaimed "America's Freak Capital." Author Thomas Wolfe and actress Andie McDowell call Asheville home; so do televangelist Billy Graham and white supremacist attorney Kirk Lyons.

"We don't fit the mold," says Dunn, who decided to run for office 30 minutes before the deadline.

If elected on Tuesday, Bellamy would be Asheville's first black mayor — perhaps more remarkable considering the city's African-American population hovers at just 17 percent.

Although there are more than 500 black mayors in the United States, just 47 lead cities with more than 50,000 residents (roughly 70,000 live in Asheville); of those, only two are mayors of cities that have a black population of less than 20 percent, according to the National Council of Black Mayors.

Bellamy, who has served on the city council for six years, says she would be proud of being the city's first black mayor but that race is not an issue. For her, being a mayor is about listening to different people.

"I don't label myself because when you start using labels you disenfranchise some people," she says. "I may never spend time drinking at a club but someone who does — and they have issues with the city of Asheville — they should feel comfortable enough to say that 'You know, I can go talk to Terry.' "

As it becomes more diverse, Asheville is suffering through some growing pains. Nestled in western North Carolina's Blue Ridge Mountains, Asheville is a beautiful town that has long drawn tourists — and is now attracting more people to live here.

The city's population grew nearly 12 percent from 1990 to 2000, according to the U.S. Census. Asheville's vibrant arts scene and bohemian edge continues to lure young people, while its idyllic setting entices retirees.

The result has been a cacophony of construction — soaring condos are appearing downtown and huge homes are going up in the mountains. The skyrocketing development has residents concerned.

Just ask Pat Beachboard. The 46-year-old native Ashevillian and hospital employee says that a black bear recently paid her house a visit and demolished the grill on her side porch. She blames developers.

"They're taking away a lot of the animals' homes," she says. "They need to look up the definition of mountain: it's a habitat for animals."

The steady influx of people has made the Asheville metropolitan area's housing the most expensive in the state relative to income, according to the National Association of Home Builders-Wells Fargo Housing Opportunity Index.

Bellamy, who works as a marketing and development manager at the nonprofit Mountain Housing Opportunities, says her top priority as mayor is affordable housing. She wants more of it, especially in the center of the city, so people can live close to work and health care facilities.

Dunn, however, is critical of some affordable housing proposals when they fit into an urban trend known as smart growth, i.e. building upward and inward. Smart growth, he argues, requires higher building costs because land becomes scarcer. Even worse, he says, such development often infringes upon single-family neighborhoods.

"That's not quality of life," says Dunn, who was elected to the city council four years ago. "I still think there's something about elbow room that's an American dream."

The issue may prove to be the most divisive — and decisive — in the election. Dunn must fight the perception that he is pro-development and anti-affordable housing, a rap he says simply isn't true. Bellamy must battle the stigma of "affordable housing," a term which conjures for some the image of taxpayer-subsidized projects, primarily for minorities.

Because of Asheville's mostly segregated neighborhoods, the issue of affordable housing may force race back into the mayoral conversation. Al Whitesides, a 61-year-old retired banker who was recently elected to Asheville's school board, says he does not believe residents will vote based solely on race but concedes it is an undercurrent.

"It's gonna be an issue," says Whitesides, who is African-American. "It's below the radar screens. People won't talk about it."

What people will talk about are their frustrations. In addition to development fears and housing woes, many residents have grown wary of their local politicians. Low wages, drug dealing and an inadequate civic center are just a few of the lingering problems that have stalled in the city council.

But the gripes may not translate into votes. Brett Fitzpatrick, 35, lives with his 6-year-old daughter and works at Home Energy Partners, where he makes $9 an hour. An Asheville native, he says most locals can barely survive — but he won't go to the polls on Tuesday.

"Politicians aren't very trustworthy," he says.

Kathleen Balogh, the president of the local League of Women Voters, says that while more voters will probably show up for the general election than the primary, the turnout will probably still be low.

"People don't tend to turn out for the local election, which I think is a shame," she said. "There's a sense of futility, unfortunately."

But for Bellamy and Dunn there's a sense of opportunity to lead their hometown through a period of unprecedented growth. And there's a sense that this mayoral race could only happen in a city as diverse and indefinable as Asheville.

"There aren't many cities ..." says Dunn, sipping a coffee, before pausing. "This is a real interesting story. You've got a black female, more or less moderate to liberal, and you've got a white older male, more or less conservative. It's gonna be interesting. I mean, it's really different."

By Stephen Smith