Conservatives and Liberals, Republicans and Democrats, tree-huggers and asphalt lovers of all ages, sexes, and religious orientations, lined up in Middleburg and Marshall the week of November 26 to oppose Dominion Virginia Power's plan to clear land for a 40-mile-long high-voltage power line along the Fauquier/Loudoun line.

In Middleburg, a line of determined, but well-behaved opponents, snaked around the Community Center waiting for admission to the "briefing."

An even larger crowd marched four-to-six-abreast in a blocks-long line seeking admission to the Ruritan Hall in Marshall, Virginia.

Many, if not most of those in the well-behaved crowds wore buttons or waved banners opposing the project as they waited in line, anticipating entry to a "presentation" or "town hall" meeting, ostensibly including a "questions and answers" session, for which all seemed well prepared ("primed" is perhaps the more accurate term.)

Instead, they discovered, the lines were much like traffic on Route 50, caused by a bottle-neck at a table at which Dominion Virginia was distributing and collecting questionnaires.

In Marshall, anti-power line proponents soon informed the crowd there was no reason to stand in line, and, from their point of view, no reason to help Dominion Virginia document "community engagement" by filling out the "questionnaire."

"Why rate "factors most important to you" in routing the line?" they asked. "Scratch out the questions and write, 'No Power Line Anywhere,'" they urged the crowd.

Within minutes the lines had disappeared and the Hall was packed.

Once inside, attendees were greeted by representatives of Dominion Virginia manning "information stations"

A Dominion Virginia representative manning a display outlining the "Need" for the power line found himself surrounded by a dozen or so opponents seeking answers to well-reasoned questions about alternative approaches to generation and transmission.

As time wore on, smiles became forced, and "discussions" degenerated into sharper, more highly charged exchanges of "talking points."

A representative at the "Environmental Protection" station was similarly besieged. Asked if it would be possible to bury the line rather than string it across the landscape on towers, he answered, "Yes, but it would be VERY expensive."

"How much?," several people asked at once.

"A billion and a half," he replied.

"Ahh . . . that's one bridge to nowhere, one Bush library, and one bad day in Iraq," replied one wag.

"The Dominion Virginia Power Company - Uniters, Not Dividers" joked another.

After an hour or two the crowds began to drift away.

"How'd this work out for you?" someone asked the "Right of Way" guy. "Just fine." he said. "Just fine."