
By Baynard Woods
Alvin Greene answered his home phone when I called and we casually set up a time to meet. A few days later, the 32-year-old candidate regarded me from a puffy chair in the corner of his father’s home, which served as headquarters for his Zen-like campaign for the U.S. Senate. On the table by the chair sat toenail clippers, a disposable razor and a Sonic fast food bag.
“Lately it’s been very busy,” Greene said of his life as he took a bite from his sandwich. “I didn’t expect so much so soon.”
Greene is unemployed. He said that before the election he spent much of his time watching television. The news was on the whole time we talked.
Greene managed to pay the $10,000 filing fee to the State Democratic party, but no one noticed him until he inexplicably beat his opponent, Vic Rawl, by a large margin in the Democratic primary. Now, everybody wants to figure out what happened and who the heck Alvin Greene actually is. As was widely reported, Rawl challenged the results, claiming that the voting machines were faulty. South Carolina bought them used from Louisiana when that state outlawed them. Rawl collected anecdotal evidence but eventually acknowledged there was no good way to prove the errors he claimed had skewed the results.
Jim Clyburn, the majority Whip and Greene’s own representative, called Greene a “plant.” Lindsey Graham echoed Clyburn’s calls for an FBI investigation.
But, on the day before my visit, the state party had decided not to overturn the results of the election, making Greene, Sen. Jim DeMint’s official opponent this fall. The state party still hopes Greene will step down. When asked if Greene had a chance against DeMint, Kiana Page, the party spokesperson said, “This race proves that anything can happen in politics. Especially in South Carolina.”
Greene knows that as well as anyone and has a simple answer to the question of who he is. “I’m the best candidate in the United States Senate race in South Carolina,” he says.
I asked him if his non-campaign campaign was an intentional strategy to attack the anti-government senator. He just smiled and took a bite of his sandwich and looked at the TV. I asked what he was going to say to DeMint.
“Well, I’m planning for a September debate. One hour long on a major television channel.”
“If he refuses to debate, what would that say about him?” I asked.
“It says that he doesn’t care about the people of South Carolina or their concerns,” Greene answered. “He and other representatives are responsible and accountable for the dire situations we face here in South Carolina and across the country.”
Greene grew up in Manning and served in the air force and the army. He claims that he was involuntarily, but honorably, discharged from the military and refuses to say more about the issue. He earned a Political Science degree from USC. I was asking him about classes he remembered when a knock sounded at the door.
Greene laid down his Sonic wrapper and got up. “Here’s the umm,” he fumbled a moment and nodded toward the door. “…Manning Times Reporter. Here’s someone from the Manning Times.”
“So you were just telling me about your own education and about studying political science when he knocked on the door,” I said.
As if on cue, there was another knock. “Who is it?” Greene hollered.
“It’s WIS.”
“I told them not to come,” he said, as if to himself. “OK! All right. Just open the door.”
The Manning Times reporter got up to open the door.
“Seems like your life’s gone crazy,” I said to Greene.
“It has.”
It was clear at that moment that Greene had absolutely no control over what was happening to him. It was almost like a sci-fi movie where an ordinary guy was sucked through the screen into the hyper-reality of the televised universe. He seemed to be struggling to find his bearings.
The TV man did not introduce himself and spoke in a gruff tone.
“I was just wondering you know –I see you’re eating lunch,” he said. “I know you said that you didn’t really want to do TV interviews, but, uh, I was just down here trying to get a feel of who you were. And so many people have a preconceived notion of who you are just because of the charges and everything.”
The charges are, of course, the felony charges pending against Greene for allegedly showing pornography to a college freshman and asking her if she wanted to go back to her room. It is something else Greene refuses to talk about. But it is clearly one of the main reasons why no prominent Democrats have reached out to help him.
“I’m really not interested in that now,” Greene said to the TV man. “Maybe in a week or two you can check back.”
The phone rang.
“Well you know it’s just kind of hard for me to get to Manning from Columbia every day,” the TV man said, obviously annoyed.
Greene ignored him and picked up the phone. “Hello? …OK.” He hung up.
“So I was just hoping we could go ahead and knock it out today if that’s possible,” the TV man said, seemingly oblivious to we print reporters who were in the middle of an interview. “You just step right outside. It’ll be real quick.”
“OK. Let me finish these and then I’ll think about it,” he said.
“All right. I’ll just be right outside in the Channel Ten Jeep.”
The TV man walked out, shaking his head. WIS subsequently wrote on their website on June 19 that Greene had agreed to do an interview and backed out, even though, at least to me, it seemed like he had repeatedly told the reporter he did not want to talk.
Greene said it was like this every day now. He did not have a computer, a cell phone or even Caller ID. He answered every call blindly. He said that he was in the process of organizing a campaign and building a website, but at the moment, he needed a press secretary more than anything else.

“So you were talking about your political science classes,” I continued. “Way back then were you thinking of running?”
“Yes. I took a course in black politics. And the professor was Kenneth Whitby,” he said. “But I’ve followed politics since I was a child, so I always knew that running for office was always in the back of my mind.”
He took the last bite of lunch, crumbled the wrapper and put it in the bag.
“As a soldier serving in Korea two years ago I knew that this country was declining and I knew if I got a chance I would make things better,” he said. “That’s my campaign: Bringing America Back.”
The phone rang again.
“Hello? ….Who’s calling?” He listened for a little while. “OK. Can you get back with me in a week or two? I’m busy.”
He hung up and turned back to me.
“What is your campaign strategy other than the debate?” I asked.
“The issues, my message. Jobs. See I have a plan for jobs. Even picking back up with the Department of Transportation projects put on hold after 9/11. Such as Interstate 74 from Michigan to Myrtle Beach. Widening of other major highways across the state, especially the evacuation routes from the coast. And those will create jobs in the short term and the long term.”
The phone rang.
“Hello? …Where you at? …Hello?” He hung up. “Yes. And better PTAs, better facilities for better education. Fixing dilapidated schools and building new ones.”
“Your opponent, I guess, would ask where that money is going to come from?”
“Well, we spend two times more of our taxpayer dollars on inmates than on students,” he said. “Non-violent offenders should be offered pretrial intervention. Justice in the justice system is important. It takes so much money a day to keep someone incarcerated. Fairness saves money. It’s another example of how our incumbent Republican— ”
The phone rang.
“Hello?” I could tell from Greene’s side of the conversation that it was a Sunday talk show wanting him to go on. To the person on the other end of the line, he said, “That’s church time mainly right there in the middle of the day.” Then he hung up.
He turned back to me.
“When I say my opponent is reversing forward progress, I’m not being sarcastic. It’s green jobs and it’s better for the economy and the environment. That’s advancing society that I’m for and our two current United States senators are against that. They’re trying to repeal Health Care.”
As the Manning reporter got up to leave, the WIS crew burst in without knocking.
“All right,” the TV man said, “you want to do it inside or outside? We have a light on the camera if you want to do it inside. Like I said, it will just take two quick minutes.”
“What are you going to ask again?”
“Now that all of the late night comedians have made their jokes and protests have been done, how do you plan to get your campaign rolling?” the TV man asked. “A lot of people there still don’t seem to be taking you seriously. How do you plan to get people to take you seriously?”
“I told you over the phone that I wasn’t doing this,” Greene said.
“Two questions, that’s it.”
“No.”
“Ok. So why not?”
“I just… I just don’t like the questions and I don’t like— ”
The phone rang. Greene answered it. WIS kept talking.
“You’re going to have to get used to it,” the TV man said. “I mean I’ve been covering politics for years.”
“Yes,” Greene said into the receiver. “All right I’m busy now. I have folks over here. All right.” He hung up.
“So you don’t want to do the interview?” the TV man asked.
“No.”
The TV man seemed angry. His voice got louder and he said Greene would look bad. “That’s not a threat,” he said. “It’s just the way it is.”
Finally, they left. Greene had just fought another battle in the attempt to maintain control of his life and be a candidate. He insisted that he campaigned in the primary—he just didn’t use the media to do it. He’s trying to maintain that unlikely model.
As a result, everyone wonders if Alvin Greene is crazy. Perhaps, the only really crazy thing about him is that he believed an ordinary citizen with no organization could run for Senate and win without getting sucked into the media machine. He seems to believe he can control what he wants to talk about and leave major questions unanswered. He is living in another century.
But, so far, Alvin Greene’s crazy idea has not been so crazy. At least he won in the primary. “I wasn’t that surprised,” he said. “I expected to win. I worked hard. It wasn’t a big deal.”
But now it is a big deal and the media are trying to suck Greene into their orbit. In the television world, he seems like a lost alien, inhabiting a universe whose laws he doesn’t comprehend. Maybe he could start to get a handle on it, if only he could get someone to answer the phone.
“Hello,” he said as I said goodbye.