From Buncombe Bob to 'the Tar Heel Fuhrer'

The N&O's Rob Christensen covers the Old North State's political era from post-Reconstruction to the 21st century in his new book, The Paradox of Tar Heel Politics. Here is the second of three excerpts.

U.S. Sen. Bob Reynolds could have been North Carolina's Huey Long. But he was more interested in chasing women than starting a revolution.

Born in 1884 into an old Buncombe County family, Reynolds worked as a patent medicine salesman in Chicago, acted in vaudeville, ran a skating rink in New Orleans and traveled around the world, writing travel books, making films and seeking adventure. And everywhere he traveled, the handsome, charming Reynolds sweet-talked beautiful women.

The first Mrs. Reynolds was an attractive, wealthy New Orleans debutante, Fannie Menge Jackson, who died as a result of childbirth, leaving him the equivalent of $3.7 million in today's dollars. The second Mrs. Reynolds was a 17-year-old Georgia beauty named Mary Bland whom he divorced after three years. The third Mrs. Reynolds was 23 -year-old Denise D'Arcy, a pretty French woman whom he divorced after a year. The fourth Mrs. Reynolds was Eva Grady, a Ziegfeld Follies showgirl who died of tuberculosis after three years of marriage.

When he wasn't wooing women or globe-hopping, Reynolds dabbled in politics. His father had been a clerk of court and one of his uncles had been sheriff, another a police chief. At age 26, Reynolds began his political career with a successful campaign for district solicitor (prosecuting attorney.)

With a gift for gab and the slick moves of a patent medicine salesman, Reynolds campaigned through the mountains, riding on an old flea-bitten, one-eyed nag. He campaigned with a wink and a nod. "I don't want this job just to serve you, although I reckon I can do that just as well as anybody," Reynolds said. "I want it for the money. I'm a young lawyer and I need experience. I want to get it at your expense."

In 1923, the restless Reynolds, who had a lifelong wanderlust, once again took to the road. Signing up with a film company, Reynolds fitted out a Ford truck with a bed and kitchen and traveled across France, Holland, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Spain, Algiers, Djibouti, China and Japan. He was arrested in Italy for taking illegal pictures and was robbed near Hong Kong by Chinese pirates.

Common man persona wins votes

While traveling, Reynolds launched an unlikely campaign for the Democratic nomination for lieutenant governor. Meeting North Carolinians at various exotic locales, he urged them to write their friends back home and asked them to vote for him. He mailed thousands of postcards from the Taj Mahal, the Pyramids or Westminster Abbey to what he called his "God-fearing, tater-raisin', babyhavin' " constituents. "Having a grand time; wish you were here. May not be back in time for elections, but vote for me just the same."

This proved not to be a winning strategy. But encouraged that he could draw a respectable number of votes while globe-hopping, Reynolds tried campaigning at home. In 1928, he ran unsuccessfully for the U.S. Senate, but four years later, the millionaire U.S. Sen. Cameron Morrison was a perfect foil for Reynolds in Depression-ridden North Carolina.

Reynolds left Asheville in the guise of a poverty-stricken man of the people. He donned a ragged suit, worn shoes, and drove a broken-down Tin Lizzie.

It was Reynolds the common man versus Morrison the plutocrat. Reynolds blamed big business for the Depression. He called for redistribution of the wealth, repeal of national Prohibition, and an end to immigration. And he said Morrison was in the pockets of Duke Power Company.