Swing State Swing: Missouri

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.

Eagleville

Watering the garden is soothing after burying a friend. Glen Trullinger says it's quiet, meditative.

He was a pallbearer for an old friend this morning. Standing on his lawn beneath a tempered afternoon sun, he talks of politics feeling the weight of time.

"I don't know what [Kerry's] going to do but I don't like what Bush has done," he says in with a quiet drawl.

Glen has a ranch about four miles outside Eagleville, Missouri. After raising cattle for 47 years, he moved into the rural town of 327 people "at the turn of the century." His wife thought it was the sensible thing to do.

Glen is a quiet man, well into retired age, partially retired himself. With presidents he leans Democratic, he explains, in his blue button-down shirt and railroad overalls.

He said he doesn't like President Bush's tax plan, his health plan or the "preemptive strike in Iraq."

"I'm a veteran of WWII and that's against all American principles, to invade a country on false pretenses," Glen says. "And I think he knew it was false pretenses. I think that was his motive from day one, to get rid of Saddam."

There are 11 electoral votes at stake in Missouri, a state that's both urban and rural and considered a bellwether in presidential elections. President Bush, who won here in 2000, needs to win here again; Sen. John Kerry does not.

Glen hopes Kerry can pull it off. He has four children and 12 grandchildren. And he can't stand that "we're passing the debt on to them. That's what we're doing," he says.

His children, all teachers, live in Iowa and Missouri. He votes Democratic in national elections because "the philosophy that the world doesn't belong to rich people. I think the common people are getting a bad shake." He adds: "All you have to do is see what's happening, all the tax breaks are going to the very wealthiest."

Walking past his rock garden, he explains that many date back thousands of years.

"It makes me understand how long the universe has been around, and how little we are in comparison."

Sitting on her white-wooden porch in Bethany, Bonnie Bradley says voting is a personal matter. "You just don't tell everybody who you are voting for," she says.

Talking politics is impolitic around here. Bonnie's first two grandchildren, Trevor and Trey, want to get out of their stroller as she speaks. They whine and whimper. She lets them out and soon enough, the blonde 15-month old boys are running around the porch.

She smiles modestly. After a little goading, she talks of her voting habits. Four years ago, she voted for George W. Bush. She's voting Bush again.

"I like his values. For one thing he puts God first," says Bonnie, a Baptist. "God was the one that created this nation. I think if we get back to the principles… the nation's in so much turmoil. I just I thinks that's important.

"I know Bush has started the Iraq war," she continues, keeping an eye on the boys as one plays with a toy box and another sucks on a pen. "And I think it was a good thing to get rid of Saddam Hussein. He started it and I'm right behind him to finish the job."

The sunset over Missouri seems to last longer than up north. Pulling over on Highway 35 South, semis roar by as the glint of orange cascades off the wide-grain horizon. By the time dusk falls over Kansas City, the weekend is well underway.

Midtown Kansas City is alive. Harley engines rumble in front of the glam biker bar. James is out there with his guitar.

Stringing some blues, his gray frizzy hair long past his shoulders, he says first he'll vote Libertarian, then third party. Barring that, he'll vote out whoever is in power.

"Every so often in the history of the parties they've got to have a big shakeup," the 41-year-old street musician says. "Between the Libertarians shaking up Republicans and the Green Party shaking up Democrats, I'm more along the lines of shaking up the Republicans."

James says that although "a lot of people would consider my vote to be wasted going third party," he figures that "it's not waste to express my opinion." He adds that he is more conservative than liberal.

As the bars begin to fill, James adds that he's from the next town over. He's able to feed himself with the green filling his black guitar case.

"Slow nights, good nights. It's a little less than minimum wage but it beats the hell out of any other job I could get," he says. "I have no boss."

And to James, no boss and an electric guitar are sufficient, if not sometimes damn spectacular.

In midtown Kansas City is Westport. In 1833 this was the westernmost point of America. The Oregon Trail went through here.

Today, it seems more yuppie than wagon train. On a street lined with brick shops, 23-year-old Jacob Huff sits in the Broadway Café and talks politics.

The politics of the Broadway Café is a little left of Nader, they like to say. The certified nursing assistant, who is about to train to be a chiropractor, says he's "not very pleased" with how President Bush handled his first term.

Jacob, longhaired and leather clad, believes he has a right to carp: He voted for President Bush in 2000.

"Four years ago, he seemed like a guy that would do the right thing. But I don't think he lived up to that," he explains.

"He seems to like to decide what America wants based on what he wants and not really care what anybody else wants," Jacob says. "That's not to me what an American president should be. It should be someone who wants to do what the United States wants and not try to convince the United States that they want what he wants."

Jacob is bothered as well by Missouri's recent ban on same-sex marriage. "Let's be honest: people are people. They deserve to have free lives," he says. He'll vote for John Kerry, but expresses no particular attraction to the Democratic nominee.

"Kerry hasn't done anything yet to wow me, but Bush has done a lot to repulse me," Jacob continues, smoking his cigarette. "Even if I don't think that he's all that much better, I'd rather give him a chance because I know what he's going to do again."

Ken Perry comes to the café every day. After debating Bill Clinton's legacy with Jacob, he explains that he is starting a t-shirt company for "liberal propaganda."

Relaxed, rotund, the 30-year-old says he voted for Ralph Nader in 2000. Leaning back with his coffee and an ashtray full of smoked cigarettes, he adds, "I voted my conscience."

And now?

He's "voting Kerry because I'm definitely afraid Bush will get back in."

He thinks a lot of liberals are pragmatists like him. One of his first t-shirt ideas: "Same-sex marriage bans are gay."

By David Paul Kuhn