Swing State Swing: Arkansas

We asked our chief political writer, David Paul Kuhn, to get in a car and drive from Portland, Maine to Portland, Ore., via all the Battleground States – those states expected to be the most hotly contested in the presidential election. Armed with a pen, laptop, camera and plenty of No Doz, Kuhn is sending back dispatches that will offer impressions and snapshots of a country making up its mind.

Arkansas-Missouri Border

Frank Morgan sits barefoot in a lawn chair where Missouri trails into Arkansas. He says he'd vote for John Kerry. But Frank has a police record for drug possession. He can't vote.

The 54-year old hates that America is fighting a war in Iraq. It reminds him of the days of another war, the time when he lost his right to vote. Frank graduated at the onset of the Tet Offensive. He was for the Vietnam War then.

"But after Kent State, everything changed of my view of the world," he says, sitting beside his van, which is draped in a tie-dye tarp.

A clothing line hangs between two trees. It's strung with the tie-dye shirts Frank sells. A pregnant 17-year-old is selling sweet corn from a pick-up truck beside him. As I walk back toward the car to drive south to Little Rock, Franks says, "Remember, just because they are out in the country doesn't mean they think country."

Parnell Stewart, 22, is standing near the Little Rock airport, waiting for a bed at the hotel.

"I'm voting for Kerry," says Parnell.

"I'm voting for Kerry: he's got the same name as me," jokes Parnell's friend, 21-year-old Kerry Wheat. "Nah," he adds, getting serious. "I feel like Bush doesn't know what he' doing, like a five-year-old behind the wheel."

Parnell has a cousin serving in the armed forces. Kerry Wheat has a sister.

"They want us to go over there and fight the war," Parnell says, suggesting the military recruits more in urban neighborhoods than in the suburbs.

His grandfather was a Navy Seal admiral. Nearly 140 years ago, a relative of David's fought in the Civil War. Before that, his family fought wars in Germany.

David wipes a table at the Waffle House in Little Rock, where only one couple is dining.

"I think I'm going to go for Bush," he explains. "I'm in the military and he's done a lot for us. He's protected us when we needed him the most.

"We went over [to Iraq] to protect the people and because we thought there were weapons of mass destruction," he says.

"The ability to lead Americans," is most important to David. "Be able to lead through the thick and thin." He says President Bush does exactly this, using the words "commander-in-chief" in a blunt tone.

Without David's trim mustache he would barley look old enough to vote. Taking a break behind the counter, standing stiff with his navy blue "WH" hat on perfectly straight, he explains that he feels "duty bound" by his grandfather to serve in the military.

A Naval quartermaster, he'll ship out soon. His fiancé is serving as well.

"I guess you can say it's my destiny to be in the military for awhile," David says.

"I think the Republican Party has abandoned me more than I've abandoned it," he says, talking in downtown Little Rock. "They've just got to be extremely conservative, in every sense: economics, foreign policy, social issues like stem cell research."

Raising his voice, he adds, "It deeply offends me. It's something government hasn't got anything to do with. They shouldn't be inflicting religious opinions on scientific issues."

Seth and Erin Cullum walk with a friend downtown. Seth's "incredibly" nervous about the results.

Erin says she's supporting George Bush.

"He's more in touch more with some of the things I'm more concerned about than Kerry would be," she says, her silk blouse collar wrapped over a crisp blue suit.

Seth explains that "recently" he has tended to be "a little more ambivalent about politics."

"Although I really like Bush and I like his personality and his demeanor, it seems like not a whole lot is getting done," Seth says. He's undecided. "It seems like it gets more and more partisan every year; it drives me crazy."

Paul voted for George Bush four years ago, but the 52-year-old now says he's "unsure."

"I've been waiting for either one to be focusing on the local issues," he says. "They seem to be fighting over who can be the biggest hawk in Iraq."

Paul says "over the past six months I've leaned for Bush; I've leaned for Kerry. And I'm not sure which way I'm going to go."

Why is he considering voting against President Bush?

"Four years ago he talked about compassionate conservatism," Paul replies, "a balanced mix of social programs and fiscal responsibility. Since 9/11, he seems to have lost his focus on that. I think he's totally focused on the events with terrorism and what's going on overseas."

Dressed like a preacher should in a dapper blue suit, Lee Eggerston is in Little Rock on family business.

He's the pastor at the Missionary Baptist Church in Mary Ana, Ark., 90 miles east of here. In a deep ministerial tone, the 50-year-old says he's voting for John Kerry.

"I like the fact that he's a military man, his views on some of the issues – homeland security, we're concerned about that. The economy is one of the biggest things that we are concerned about," he says.

Coming to Little Rock to talk politics and not speaking of Bill Clinton would be like going to Houston and not talking of George Bush.

"Obviously, morally we didn't like it," the pastor says of Clinton's infidelity. "We didn't appreciate that. He stayed focused and took care of the needs of our country."

After Clinton, George Bush defeated Al Gore in Arkansas. With a Boston Brahmin as the new Democratic nominee, the Republicans look to have this state sewn up.

But with three of four Arkansas congressman being Democrats, and both U.S. senators, John Kerry is fighting here.

Bill Clinton may help Kerry here. Unlike Gore, the Massachusetts senator is embracing the Democrat emeritus of Little Rock, ignoring Clinton's personal affairs for affairs of state.

To the pastor, what matters most is that Bill Clinton "was on the brink of impeachment but he stayed focused."

Lee believes what makes a good president is a man, "who cares for all, especially the little man, especially to make sure the little man is treated equally."

Driving south down Highway 65, past yellow fields where the land flattens and the sky looms larger, is a small town called Pine Bluff. Here, it feels like Arkansas. Humid, lots of flies, strangers always say hello.

Sixty-year-old Liz Love says of John Kerry, "I like a lot of good things that he said, you know."

Do you like Democrats more than Republicans?

"Is Kerry a Democrat?" she asks, in this worn-down neighborhood cut by the freeway.

Terrron Strong drags his feet down the road. He passes houses where roofs droop and dead cars litter overgrown yards.

Strong, 22, is just off his shift at McDonalds. He says he'll "probably" vote for Kerry. He didn't vote four years ago.

"I don't why I say I like Kerry because I really don't know what the guy's about," he explains, taking off his McDonalds cap. "I'd like to vote for Kerry but I really don't want Bush back in there."

McDonalds is treating him "rough." Minimum wage is a hard way to raise two children, "$5.50, working like that," he says.

"I'm doing the best I can there. It's real hard. There's barely anything left for yourself," he says, speaking in a quiet tone in this quiet neighborhood. "You have to scrape up for bills. You have to put your kids first and worry about yourself later."

Don't get him wrong, Terron isn't complaining. It's just that with two kids, he feels overwhelmed.

"You work 80 hours, have a $350 check before taxes, and then when taxes come it's like $298. And then you got bills," he says. "Gas bill: $90. You've got to buy milk, Pampers, food for the house."

Asked where he wants to be when he's 30, Terron's voice goes quiet.

"I want to be out of Arkansas and be at a real steady job, a real good job."

His son and daughter are two and seven. He's realized he really likes kids. He wants to be a coach, maybe teach. "The world needs good teachers," Terron says, heading home.

By David Paul Kuhn