Virginia Capitol Connections, 2025 Annual Magazine 14 Senator Frank Ruff September 1949 – October 2024 By GENEVIEVE LAZZAROTTI Gentleman, family man, college basketball fan, dog lover, penny pincher, math whiz, pun pro, faithful Christian, YMCA enthusiast, and sweets connoisseur. These are just a few of the ways to describe my father, Frank Ruff. I was lucky enough to learn from a young age that not all politicians fit the stereotype often portrayed. My father was the definition of a statesman—a sentiment I heard often after his passing. At first, I wasn’t sure of the difference, but thinking back on his nature and leadership style, the distinction became clear. A statesman is defined as “a politician who is distinguished by their wisdom, experience, and commitment to the long-term good of the nation or a particular field. While a politician focuses on winning elections and gaining power, a statesman prioritizes responsible governance and making decisions that benefit society.” I agree with these sentiments wholeheartedly. He wanted Southside Virginia to prosper for generations to come. He was the gold standard of how politicians should work for their constituents. He did not enter public office for recognition or power—he did it out of love for rural Virginia and a passion for helping others. The title of senator never changed my father. He remained true to himself and to his constituents throughout his decades in Richmond. His classic “Hey boy!” with a handshake will be missed by all. He remained the same man who started in Richmond in 1994. My father was a servant leader who prioritized Southside Virginia and its people. He truly cared about each and every constituent in his district. He listened to their problems, took endless phone calls, supported local businesses, and even moved furniture—just to make sure needs were met and voices were heard. He would spend hours driving throughout his district to attend meetings, fundraisers, and events. Yet somehow, he managed to be home for dinner most evenings and attend our games and performances. He worked 24/7 for the people of his district, but he still prioritized his family and faith above all else. He gave up his small business to dedicate his life to serving others. Although he was a lifelong Republican, he was always willing to listen to what the other side had to say. He asked questions to better understand others’ positions and reasoning. My father was calm and collected at all times. He rarely raised his voice or became argumentative. He was quiet but mighty—a man of few words, but when he spoke, it was with wisdom, and people knew it was worth listening to. I can’t count the number of times someone told me they knew my father, respected him, how he took their phone call, visited their business, or even remembered their name. He understood the importance of building relationships with his constituents and fellow senators, regardless of party. My father saw the beauty and possibilities that Southside Virginia holds. He worked tirelessly to bring jobs, education, and economic development to the small towns and communities he represented. He took the time to get to know his constituents personally, to hear their voices and concerns. He would answer calls and emails at any time of day. However, he knew calls had to wait once my mother had us all seated at the dinner table. Although he accomplished so much during his tenure, he stayed humble and never bragged. He wanted the spotlight to shine on others, despite all the work he had done behind the scenes. His modest and down-to-earth nature made him approachable and relatable to all. My father never met a problem he wouldn’t tackle or a question he couldn’t find an answer to. Long before his time as a politician, my father owned a variety of businesses. His entrepreneurial experience prepared him for the financial committees and positions he would later hold in his political career. He owned and ran the Buffalo Springs Inn from 1976 to 1980— a popular disco bar that Clarksville locals still fondly remember. After that, he managed Boyd’s Corner convenience store from 1981 to 1985. His final and longest-running business was Brentwood Manor Furniture, which he started from the family home. He owned and operated Brentwood Manor from 1984 to 2001. My father didn’t realize how busy he would be as a senator, so he sold the business shortly after taking office. He was a determined man with big dreams when he set his sights on working at the Capitol. He ran for State Senate for the first time in 1991 against Louise Lucas. Family lore says he wore through two pairs of shoes that summer from walking door to door to campaign. While he wasn’t successful in that first campaign, he made an impressive showing for a newcomer, with votes tallying 51% to 49%. Two years later, in 1993, he campaigned for a seat in the House against 23-year incumbent Lou Parker. While campaigning door to door and wearing down more shoe soles, my father learned that many constituents didn’t even know who their current delegate was. He vowed to be different. He wanted the people in his district to know him, his work, and that he would always lend a listening ear to their problems. His hard work paid off when he beat Lou Parker that fall— it was a big win for Virginia Republicans. However, his win wasn’t the only life-changing event that week. I was born less than 48 hours after his victory. Pink bows quickly adorned—and even replaced—Ruff campaign signs. My mom quickly realized how marriage to a politician would change our entire family’s life. The Ruff family landline was ringing off the hook for the new delegate. However, it wasn’t guaranteed he would answer— it’s possible a 9-year-old boy might pick up your call.
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