Will Too Many Tea Partyers Spoil the Revolution?

Virginia's Fifth Congressional District is about the size of New Jersey. Sprawling from the center of the state down to the North Carolina border, it was once home to thriving textile and tobacco industries. But jobs have been drying up for decades; in the city of Martinsville, unemployment has soared over 20%. Outside such liberal enclaves as Charlottesville, the district is a conservative stronghold of farms and small-business owners who resent federal intrusions. In 2008, Perriello cashiered incumbent Republican Virgil Goode by capitalizing on an Obama-fueled turnout of African-American and college-age voters. And while Perriello held 21 health care town halls last summer, the most of any member of Congress, his support of health care reform and cap-and-trade legislation — as well as the district's natural tilt — has stamped a bull's-eye on his back.

Perriello's policies are one reason five unknown Republicans have jumped into the race. Another is the belief that the GOP front runner, state senator Robert Hurt, is insufficiently conservative. Though Hurt has amassed $293,000 in campaign funds, he's been dogged by a 2004 vote for higher taxes. His six rivals were quick to paint him as part of the despised Washington establishment. "I'd like to see 435 different members in the House. Within a year, we'd fix this country," says McKelvey, who attended Tea Party meetings before being inspired by Glenn Beck's 9.12 project and deciding to mount a bid. Tall and brusque, with a silver goatee and a penchant for talking about himself in the third person, McKelvey won the unofficial straw poll with 28% of the vote after making one of the bluntest pitches of the evening: "Jim McKelvey is not going to hold his nose and vote for the lesser of two evils again." (See pictures of Tea Party protesters.)

"Our purpose is not just to make signs and raise hell," says Lloyd, sitting in a hotel lobby with two members of the Lynchburg Tea Party. Like many Tea Party leaders, he's preaching the power of civic engagement — the importance of poring over voting records, parsing candidates' rhetoric and tapping those who will do the people's bidding. In this district, as in other regions where distrust of government runs deep, the congregation is growing. "People need to understand that whoever you vote for, these guys work for you," says Dion Richardson, a Lynchburg lawyer. "They're not rock stars. That's your employee. He's no different than the guy that cuts your grass."