Swing State Swing: W. Va.

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.

Morgantown

Pittsburgh reaches all the way south to northern West Virginia. Coal and steel drive the region.

In Morgantown, West Virginia, Steelers' fans abound. Cut in the green mountains, this fading industrial city doubles its population of 26,000 when the West Virginia University is in session. Two weeks before the students return from summer break, few cars pass.

You get the sense that Kathy Simpson likes it this way, as she sits outside the Dairy Queen with her daughters. Just past dusk during the school year, Fairmont Avenue would be littered with partying students.

Spooning her Blizzard sundae, she says, "I was a Democrat for awhile until I became smarter." Smiling, blushing, Kathy puts the jokes aside. "I just feel like the Democrats are more into the entitlements, just thinking they should get things without working hard for them."

Kathy is voting for Bush. Her daughter Melissa admits, with an ambivalent giggle, that four years ago she voted for Ralph Nader. When asked why, she's unsure, shrugging, giggling again. This election, Melissa says, "I haven't quite decided yet; I'm waiting for the debates."

Melissa, a graduate of West Virginia University, puts her Oreo Blizzard to the side.

"I trust Bush more with security," she says. "I don't know where Kerry is coming from and I don't like how he is always flip-flopping on issues, saying one thing and then saying another thing. It seems like he's just wanting to please voters."

What gives you the sense that Kerry flip-flops?

"Just everything," Melissa's eyes rise to the top of her head as she searches for the reason. "What was that, I voted for something and then I voted, something like that?" she asks me.

Regarding the $87 billion for Iraq?

"Yeah," she says. Her 11-year-old sister Janice nudges her with her knee and says, "That was good," and neither perhaps realizes that they are repeating the leading advertisement for the Bush campaign. Tens of millions have gone to show voters like Melissa a moment where Kerry seemingly contradicts himself on Iraq, tripping on his own policy.

Kathy lets Melissa speak her mind. She listens as Melissa explains that she is leaning toward Kathy's candidate, Mr. Bush. Kathy's 18-year-old daughter is not here. She's going for Kerry.

If Janice could vote, she would support Bush. The skinny blonde dabs her brownie Blizzard. "I know him better and he's just always there and he helps the country," she says with a shy voice. "And he helped us when we were feeling sad when the towers went down."

Melissa agrees. Aware that the state of the economy is a primary issue in this election, in most every election, she adds she got a job as a sales and marketing manager as soon as she graduated. "I didn't find any problem with the economy."

"It's the most beautiful country in the world," he says of his distant home. In Zambia he can't expect a job. Here he can. But standing downtown, he and his friend are frustrated.

Melo, who almost always smiles, says that he wants to own a business to control his future. His taller, thin-shouldered friend Shami interjects. His eyelids are half-folded over, but he's revved up.

"I've got lots of friends who have graduated and you know, they are still getting minimum wage jobs," he says in his WVU jersey. "They can't get a job for what they majored in. But these universities are making money." He glimpses over begrudgingly toward campus.

They are both voting for Kerry, even though Shami notes, "Kerry's a shady guy." He feels that viscerally, unable to put to words what's "shady" about the Democratic nominee.

This is Democratic country. The West Virginia state legislature has been controlled by Democrats since the Great Depression. But Bush won these 5 electoral votes in 2000 when Vice President Al Gore didn't compete in ads or visits.

In contrast, Bush eyed the state early and touched on its intrinsic cultural conservatism. Kerry knows Bill Clinton won West Virginia 1996 by about 20 percent. He knows West Virginia has two Democrats for every Republican.

Melo and Shami may be Democrats but they are also black in a state that is 94 percent white. They are first-generation Americans. They say they feel accepted by people but not the system. They travel more than most.

"Americans are hated," Shami states in a pitch of aggravation. "We need to have a change of some kind. I'm voting for Kerry. I watched the Democratic convention. His speech was awesome. I was moved by it."

Melo: "Now time is telling we didn't have to go to war. My brothers are dying, including the Iraqis. Now is the time for change and peace. Hopefully Kerry can bring that. But even if he can't, I will not vote for Bush."

Shami: "It's got to come to an end. We had a chance."

Melo: "We need peace."

Shami swings out his left hand in agreement, "We need peace!"

When you say we had a chance, what was it?

"After 9/11," Shami answers, "but then we went straight to getting revenge and then went to get revenge on the wrong people."

And what gets your vote?

"Realism," Shami replies. "They sold us the war, what's that about?"

Melo: "It was like a product you buy on TV - but they took our taxes, we didn't have a choice." Realizing that wasn't the question, he adds, "It's not necessarily one issue. You just want to believe in your president."

Shami: "You've got to have honor in that office. You're the most powerful person in the world."

Melo: "I don't care if people lie about their sex lives. But if you lie about our well being or money, it's a problem for me."

Frank Spina, 38, his yellow shirt buttoned up, chats with friends outside in the cool air, the shadow of the mountains looming over the city.

"It's a lot of fun. It's good to see old friends. It amazes to see how fast time flies," Frank says. "All the memories from back then are just coming back. I think of some of the times I shared with my friends. We were just talking up here in the buffet line."

Back in high school Frank was a Democrat. In trim hair and a beard, standing about 5-foot-9, he describes himself today as a "pro-life/pro-gun Republican." He usually votes GOP, but this year he says he will not vote for Bush. Republicans aren't pro-life enough. Democrats - well that was the Frank of high school. "I'm fat up with both parties," he says.

"If you look at [Bush and Kerry], they both have memberships in Skull and Bones. They're both bones-men, in fact, they make no bones about it," he says, chuckling. His onetime classmates stand by, listening. The politics of high school return.

Did you see old crushes at this reunion?

"They didn't show up," he answers, shrugging, "Some great looking ladies but none of my own sweethearts."

Is that a little disappointing?

"Actually, it's just good to see good friends."

How have you changed since high school?

"I pretty much am the same guy. I guess we all change over time, 20 years goes by and you hope you are a little bit wiser and you wish you had that wisdom back then," he answers. "But I'll tell you that life is getting better," he says optimistically - but also like he wants to convince himself its true.

"And even though I've put on a little bit of weight over the past 20 years" - very little, Frank is still thin - "I feel 100 percent better than I used to back in high school."

By David Paul Kuhn