Swing State Swing: Wisconsin

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.

Milwaukee

Although Wisconsin is one of two states that gave birth to the Republican Party in 1854 (the other being Michigan), for decades it has been the heartland of liberalism. No longer. Now, it's a swing state.

And although Democrat Al Gore won Wisconsin in 2000, George Bush is visiting here and advertising here in 2004. Republicans have a strong chance. The state has been seriously contested in six of the last seven presidential elections.

It's dusk at Milwaukee's General Mitchell International Airport, named for famed military aviator and hometown hero William "Billy" Mitchell. Planes fly up into the ash-blue sky. Kris Roth kisses her husband as she returns home from visiting a childhood friend in Baltimore. Kris is hungry. She wants pizza. On politics, she's not as certain.

"I haven't decided yet," says the tall, 40-ish seventh-grade teacher.

"No, I have not," she emphasizes. "My two big concerns are the environment and Iraq. I'm not keen on Bush's position on environmental issues and I'm really not too aware of what Kerry is about either. They need to be more specific about their plans on Iraq and the environment."

Four years ago, Kris voted for Al Gore. But she is considering Bush this time "because he is in the middle of the situation and he is probably best informed to get us out."

As a teacher, she's not a fan of the president's No Child Left Behind program, citing problems with a "lack of federal funding" for "the mandates they have." But she still leans to Bush. "At this point," Kris says, security trumps her concerns over education policy. And to Kris, strong on security means President Bush.

How could Kerry get her back to the Democratic Party?

"He could give specific information about how would handle the Iraq situation," says Kris. And even though, she adds, Bush has "gotten us into a position that I'm not real keen on right now," she's looking to back him.

In a colorful dress, with short straight hair and a large cross around her neck, 47-year old Belinda Adams is a lifelong Democrat. Her friend, Vernessa, who sits with stiff back and a shy half-smile, says the same. They are both voting for John Kerry.

Belinda: "I prefer him over Bush."

Vernessa: "I prefer practically anybody over Bush."

Belinda: "Because I really haven't heard that much about Kerry. You know? The name is out there. But I haven't heard anything about what his platform is. I just don't think it can be worse then what it is, in my opinion. With Bush in office another four years, I don't see…

Vernessa: "I see another war, if this one ever ends."

Vernessa has a nephew serving overseas, as well as the father of her grandkids. Belinda has a niece who is serving as a medic.

"She was as senior at Clark University," Belinda says. "They pulled her out in her last year. She's hoping to go back next year to finish her senior year."

The niece was in ROTC to help pay for school.

Both are Belinda and Vernessa are black and from the North Side of Milwaukee, a heavily African American area of this heavily segregated northern industrial city. They are not the only people they know with family serving. But when talk of their own children comes up, Vernessa says of her two sons, there is "no way I would let them go to the service."

"I'm voting for George Bush," says Dan Jones, 33.

Steve Gigot, 28, agrees. "I'll be voting for George Bush as well."

Chris is unsure. "So far it looks like, so far yeah, it looks like," he shrugs, looking toward Dan to see if he is going to rip into him.

"As long as two of us vote for Bush, then we're one ahead," says Dan.

They laugh. All three have always voted Republican in presidential elections. Explaining his indecision, Chris says, "If someone had a gun to my head I probably would decide Republican, if anything."

Okay, since no one has a gun to your head, what brought you to the fence?

"It's not like there is any major issue that separates the candidates in my mind," Chris replies, chuckling, his thick brown hair bouncing with him.

"He can do whatever he wants," Dan says. "I vote for Republicans because I think they represent the values that make the country the strongest. Those values being individual achievement rather than relying on government for answers: go out and do it yourself. Don't turn to the government every time you need something. And in general, the values related to family and life, all the things I feel are important really resonate with me and the Republican Party."

What Dan likes about George Bush is that "he's made decisions that he knew he would be criticized about but he did them anyway because he thought they were right."

Dan continues: "There comes a point where you have to make decisions and history will bear out whether they were right, wrong or somewhere in between. But the fact that he's a strong leader and that he's making decisions, and he's unequivocal on the war on terror, and I like that."

"I tell them to go down the street," explains Oreland, with a trim gray beard and strong face. He'd just rather serve a good Guinness in his dark cozy with leaded windows and wooden tables that look older than this city. He loves Smithwick's as well, but it's too hard to get stateside. For a proper drink, "some good Irish whisky" suits him. He has plenty to serve.

When speaking in the back bar, Oreland welcomes me to "our fine pub, here." Last election he voted for George Bush. This year: "George Bush, yep. I think maybe I'll go for George Bush again."

"I spent 27 years being a police officer, fighting for things that are right, sticking up for this city and a lot of the people I know," he explains, standing behind the dark wooden bar. "And I feel George Bush is being a big cop for the world, trying to right things that were done in the past that had to be corrected that nobody was willing to stand up for.

"I remember a lot of little people getting stepped on, being bothered by the thugs and little old ladies getting their purse snatched. In this particular instance, if I can relate that to George Bush, I look at our country as being slapped a couple of times," he continues. "You go back to the Cole, we turned our cheek there. We turned it again when we got, ah, when we got the World Trade Center stuck up where we don't want it and George Bush went and did something about it."

After 27 years with the Milwaukee police, Oreland opened this pub. He named it after his wife, Patty, spelling it as it would be in old Ireland. "We met a long time ago and we won't get into that because that's just the way it is," he says, smiling.

Milwaukee is a city of bars. It's where the German immigrants moved and where Miller, Blatz, Schlitz and Pabst were first made. In the mid-1800s its proximity to Chicago, the culture of its residents and Lake Michigan's suitability for transportation led it to be called the "beer capital of the world."

Its baseball team is still the Brewers and its stadium is Miller Park, but the city no longer is consumed by the smell or the economy of breweries.

"It was just a dream," Oreland explains, the bar half-full on this weekday night. "I'm a man of many dreams. You reach out and take one for a ride. If it don't work out you reach out and take another for a ride."

But it seems this one is working out.

"This one's working out beautiful. There are a lot of good people in this city and I think I've got the finest people for my customers," he replies, talking a few more minutes and then having a spit of whisky.

By David Paul Kuhn