“Little Miss Lori has taken on the Roswell entrenched good old boy network, the East Roswell Political Cartel, the Chief of Police, Mayor Wood and the entire Roswell government bureaucrats all in one election.” –Beacon blogger Maggie K, November 1, 2009.

Lori Henry, small in stature – stood tall in substance.

Her campaign for Roswell mayor was based purely on the core issues that she so deeply believed in.

Henry fell short of making the Roswell mayoral run-off by a little over 300 votes out of 10,000 cast on Tuesday.

Defeated in her campaign, she may have been victorious in securing her legacy.

There was little grey about this woman.

Her supporters loved her. Her enemies loathed her. Her followers revered her. Her rivals feared her.

A politician Lori was not.  A crusader she was. Politicians beget politics. Crusaders fructify movements. Lori bore a restless stirring for change that will not soon dissipate in a now engaged Roswell electorate.

Her idealistic campaign for Roswell mayor is over, and with it her governmental career.

But in so doing she bore a cause that will likely live on well past her abrupt exit from the local political stage.

Lori was a philosophical zealot competing in a political arena she cared little about.  Her campaign was unsophisticated, devoid of polish, short on cash and laden with tactical and strategic missteps.

But her message was resounding.

Lori’s daunting and long shot quest to topple an impregnable political machine that stood entrenched for 100 years was as bold as it was courageous.

In one fell-swoop, “Little Miss Lori” had the guts to take on the highest cubicles of authority in Georgia’s fifth largest city.

She started two years ago by taking on one of the most commanding developers in Atlanta, Charlie Brown, and took his failed project down. Early this year she took on the entire North Fulton County municipal coalition by supporting a Constitutional Amendment to cap property assessment increases – and took relentless heat from her colleagues. She took on Secretary of State and popular Roswell resident Karen Handel by publicly calling for conservative House Speaker Pro-Tem Mark Burkhalter to run for governor.

In launching her campaign she took on a powerful mayor, a potent political cartel, the Chief of Police, the City Manager, a fortified bureaucracy and the city’s vast web of neighborhood fiefdoms.

What she lacked in money, in published “name” endorsements, and in a sophisticated campaign apparatus she made up in grassroots enthusiasm for her message.

Left for political road kill in the summer, she eventually captivated a new wave of change agents in Roswell – and in so doing galvanized a political firestorm that eventually eclipsed the candidate and took on a life of its own.

She started in May with a campaign.

She ended in November with a movement.

At the conclusion of the classic 1933 movie “King Kong,” as the giant ape lay dead on a New York City street, a policeman said to actor Robert Armstrong, “Well, the planes got him.” Armstrong, in his most famous cinematic line, answered, “No sir. It wasn’t the planes that got him. T’was beauty that killed the beast.”

In the case of “Little Miss Lori,” it wasn’t her message that defeated her on November 2. It was the blatant disloyalty of one of her most trusted friends that killed the crusade.

But what goes around comes around. Voters captivated by a movement have a funny way of returning the favor to narcissist political backstabbers who wax their cause in exchange for personal political gain – the next time they get the chance.

Our guess is they’ll be waiting for that opportunity, come 2011.