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Iorio's rise carries with it a whiff of destiny
© St. Petersburg Times I was looking at Pam Iorio's feet. She was wearing pumps in a neutral color -- tan, I think. No big heel, no pointy toe for her, nothing that could be called trendy. A certain school has it that I shouldn't mention what Iorio wears, because doing so is sexist. It is true I never wrote about the shoes of the other four Tampa mayoral candidates, all of them men. But I mention Iorio's shoes in the same way I point out out how little makeup she wears, how unadorned she is in her simple business suits, because it speaks loudly about the woman. What you see of her is what you get. She is pleasant and straightforward when she speaks. She does not hesitate over words. You have to struggle to picture her yelling at anybody, including her kids. She creates the impression that she is utterly comfortable with herself and that she has a clear, cheerful internal lens through which she views the world. "I appreciate the quality of every day," she says when you ask about this. "There are many more good people in the world than bad." If Iorio wins the race for mayor of Tampa, and it certainly looks as if she will, this will be why. The plans and visions that she spouts -- she wants, for instance, to be a regional leader, an influence throughout the bay area -- will certainly help. But that's not what will carry Iorio through. Her steady, calm personality will. It has overrun Bob Buckhorn's carefully honed ideas, Charlie Miranda's wry jokes, Frank Sanchez's job with Bill Clinton -- all in a breathtaking six weeks. This is what happens when it's your moment. This is Iorio's moment. She is one of those lucky people who landed at the right place at the right time. It's also true that opportunity favors the prepared, and Iorio is prepared. She has been in pub ic office, first as a Hillsborough County commissioner and then as elections supervisor, longer than she's been a parent. She's been a politician for 18 years, a parent for 14. (She has two teenage children.) She talks about her prospects in the modest way you'd expect of a candidate in her spot. She acknowledges being the front-runner but says she doesn't dwell on it. She also predicts she'll end up in a runoff. "Each candidate has a large base of support and has spent a sizable amount of money," she said. So, every day of the campaign, she starts out the same. "I get up and think I've got to work as hard as I possibly can." Wednesday was like every other day. It began with the latest of about 40 candidate forums -- this one an early breakfast in West Shore before the Tampa Bay Area Relocation Council, a group of corporate relocators who help big companies move their employees to the bay area. There were lots of questions about business and transportation, but not much time to get past the generalities when it came time for Iorio and the other four candidates to answer. Then we talked back at her campaign office in downtown Tampa, where she is surrounded by old friends who have signed on to help her. Her former legislative aide left her new home in Chicago to work with Iorio. Her college roommate and her family are coming in from New Jersey to help. So is another old friend, a Texas college professor. People from her graduating class at King High School are on board. They put up the banner that covers one exterior wall of the campaign office, Iorio said. It sounds too good to be true, much like the candidate herself. We may not be electing a mayor so much as we are choosing the one kid in high school who believed in all the government class platitudes, including the John Kennedy quote about asking what you can do for your country. Like I said, it sounds almost too good to be true. Almost. -- Mary Jo Melone can be reached at mjmelone@sptimes.com or (813) 226-3402.
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