Swing State Swing: New Hampshire

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.

Hampton

Twenty-four-year-old Meg Bialovrezeski giggles and groans when she's asked to spell her name. At Seacoast Florist in quaint Hampton, N.H., she says, "I don't like to go to other countries and feel that people don't like me."

Meg doesn't want to be a florist; she wants to be an actress. Maybe not in New York City, though: It's a "scary place" right now, she says.

Meg is a Kerry supporter. When asked why, she answers, "Because he's not George Bush."

"That's essentially it," she says. "I miss having a Democrat in the White House."

"This is where the elections are made, right here at Marelli's Market," says Billy Bowley, who works behind the counter at the 96-year-old general store.

Marelli's is where the "old-timers" come, Bowley says.

Republicans outnumber Democrats in New Hampshire. But still, it could swing. "Massachusetts is moving up here," the locals are fond of saying.

The old-timers come at three times, Billy, 61, explains: "3 p.m. sometimes, 7 a.m. and 7:45 at night. They sit in the back corner and chat. They smoke the cigars and chew the tobacco."

But why those exact times? He shrugs as if it's their business. By his guess, the chatter is "95 percent" about politics.

Asked who he supports, Billy says, "There's only one guy to vote for."

And who's that?

"Bush," he replies. "I just like the guy. He's done a good job."

Of Kerry, he says, "I can't even say the word. I can't say 'Dem…" He stutters, before finally spitting it out: "Democrat."

Across the street at the Old Salt tavern, Patricia Rohr, a teacher, agrees that Massachusetts is where the liberals are coming from.

But Patricia Rohr is leaving the Republican Party. Her frizzy blond hair falling to her shoulders, she says she voted for Bush last time and will vote for Kerry now.

"I wish to change to independent because of this No Child Left Behind Act," she says in the din of the back bar, where it's explained only locals go.

The pub is attached to Lamie's Inn, which dates back to 1740. The restaurant there is packed with tourists in a colonial setting.

But in the back bar, Patricia says, "I'm upset because this act puts a great deal of funding on the individual community. The other issue with No Child Left Behind: perfectly capable tenured teachers having to return to school to receive a certification in a subject they have taught for many years."

But there's more. "The war," she says. "Because of what he has told us, why we are there, and now what is coming out and also on the report of the 9/11 commission. The inadequate communications."

Waiting for the light to turn green, optometrist Kim Boyer says the United States needs "fresh blood."

"GW really has gone the wrong direction, lack of direction," Kim says, pulling to the side to answer a quick question. "Our current guy in the office, yep, he's not very competent. He's messing our reputation around the world." Kim is on his way home from work. He lives in nearby Barrington.

In a yellow tie and blue shirt, Kim adds with a soft voice that Kerry's "as exciting as any of 'em."

Seabrook

Pumping gas at the Citgo in Seabrook is not what 18-year-old Jordan Maltais intends to do with his life. As he changes the credit-card receipts in each pump, he says he wants to be a photographer.

Jordan is a genuine undecided voter. Well, sorta. He says he is, but he seems to lean to Kerry.

"I'm not that big a fan of Bush and I really don't know that much about Kerry," he says. "See, that's just the thing. I'm really caught just not knowing enough about Kerry. I know a lot about Bush, I mean, after the past four years everyone knows about him."

Jordan shrugs, his goatee moving up with his shoulders. "I've seen all the things that have happened. A lot of it actually had to do with seeing the movie Fahrenheit 9/11. It just kinda showed all these things the public didn't get to see and it was kinda horrifying."

Jordan has a "pretty close" female friend whose father is in Iraq. He knows "a few" people whose fathers are stationed there. In his green gas station shirt, he says that nowadays the draft "is always on all of teenagers' minds."

"What would happen? Your entire life would change. I mean we all have plans, once that happens it completely changes," he says. Kerry has so far failed to present himself as a viable alternative to Jordan, who served two years in the ROTC and will attend Kings State college in the fall.

"I just want to believe that [Kerry] is actually a person that's more connected with us," he continues. "They're completely in a separate box in the White House, just kinda looking at us from above."

To be sure she's clear, Genise Amero says, "As far as the Johns go, flush it, just flush it, baby."

Speaking in a parking lot in Seabrook, she adds, "You see these flip flops?" She kicks her up her left foot and explains: "See I've been wearing those all the time. [Kerry's] just a flip-flopper. Flip flop. Flip flop."

She continues in a rapid voice, "He can't make up his mind. He picks up speeches from other places. He doesn't have anything to say on his own. His Purple Hearts are all just scratches."

Genise's friend, a Kerry-supporting former veteran, chuckles under his breath. Touching his shoulders, Genise says, "This is a fella who has earned his Purple Hearts, but I don't know why he's voting for that Kerry. Just because he doesn't have anybody else he wants to vote for."

Genise thinks President Bush is a "very strong, moral type fellow, and when he says he's going to take care of things, he's going to take care of things. Not like that stupid silly old Kerry who just flip flops," she says, laughing, but very serious.

"With Kerry, I mean, by the time he flip flops and says, 'Oh yeah, I'm gonna go get 'em.'" She rolls her head and eyes from shoulder to shoulder. "'Maybe I won't get 'em,'" she continues, mimicking Kerry. "'Maybe I'll get 'em tomorrow. I'm so scared I don't know what to do,'" she says, touching her chest in exacerbation.

Genise says it's not even a contest: New Hampshire will swing to Bush. "That's the way it's going to go."

By David Paul Kuhn