They came from across the Peninsula and across the state to say farewell to Alan Diamonstein, who as Sen. Mark Warner put it, was one of the politicians who made modern Virginia what it is.
For the several hundred friends who gathered at the Ferguson Center concert hall named in honor of the long-time member of the House of Delegates from Newport News and his wife, it was a time to tell a few stories, share some laughter and hide more than a few tears.
“The last thing he said to me was: ‘Governor, you call me if you need anything,'” Gov. Ralph Northam said, recalling a phone call shortly before Diamonstein passed away this week.
“Alan spent his life helping. He can rest in peace knowing that Virginia is a better place because of his service.”
That service included 34 years in the House of Delegates, where Diamonstein fought hard for — and won — more state funds for education and the disabled, a state housing authority that financed decent affordable homes for working families and the chance for women to go to the University of Virginia.
“He was the Peninsula’s all-time go-to-guy,” said Gordon Gentry, a banking executive who is a stalwart of scores of other good works, speaking of his friend of 60 years.
“Thousands of people in Newport News considered him their lawyer; when my mother got a $3,000 water bill, she called Alan, she didn’t call me — and problem solved,” law partner Bobby Hatten recalled, sparking one of the many rounds of happy laughter.
“Alan never wrote a brief, never argued in court, but he could make things happen with a phone call,” Hatten said.
Such as when people would come to complain about parking tickets, figuring Diamonstein had some influence at City Hall, recalled Rep. Robert C. “Bobby” Scott, D-Newport News.
“He’d take the ticket, go down to City Hall, and pay it for them,” Scott said. “Then he’d go back and tell them: ‘I took care of it.'”
Diamonstein’s close friend and longtime colleague in the House, former Majority Leader C. Richard Cranwell, drove from Roanoke to share stories of the hard early battles to put an end to the old Byrd machine’s domination of the legislature.
Cranwell recalled many long nights, some of them at now-defunct Richmond drinking spots, the names of which sparked laughter from the many veteran politicians and lobbyists at the memorial service, going down lists of the 100 House members as the two friends practiced the quintessential legislative skill: counting votes.
“He knew it wasn’t about flowery speeches. He understood the mechanics of the legislature. He worked because he was compassionate, he was for the downtrodden, for the less fortunate,” Cranwell said, before reminiscing, his voice cracking with emotion, about the last time he and his wife got together with the Diamonsteins.
“Think about the last 40 or 50 years and how Virginia has changed … Alan Diamonstein left his mark on all those programs, all of the progress we made as Virginians,” Warner said.
Diamonstein’s niece, Ruthie Goodboe, said it was her uncle’s special pride to be the one called upon to read the prayer for the nation, as the congregation at Rodef Shalom Temple celebrated the High Holidays. Daughter Candy Trusty remembered parades wearing “Diamonstein for Delegate” T-shirts and how her colleagues at her Miami law office would always ask her to call her dad for advice when they felt stumped by a problem.
But more than any of that, what people remembered was a man who believed in public service and helping others — and, above all, a man who was, as Gentry said, “as good a friend as anyone ever had.”
Dave Ress, 757-247-4535, dress@dailypress.com