Swing State Swing: Washington

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.

WASHINGTON

Vancouver

Buzz binged on Ralph Nader in 2000. With his long frizzy hair, his black leather biker's jacket and running pants, Buzz Quimby looks hung over since the 1980s. He's a local celebrity, he says proudly.

Here in Vancouver, Buzz has a public access show called "Where's My Drink." He says it's the perfect way to get free drinks.

To Buzz, it was a "bummer" that his vote for Nader "didn't have more impact." This time, he's voting for John Kerry.

Tapping his umbrella on the ground, he says, "it's been hell" over the last four years. He believes his civil liberties have been "eroded."

Buzz says he needs his civil liberties for his show. "I just stumble around from place to place and say, 'Where's my drink?' And people say, 'Oh are we on TV? Get the guy a drink.' It's a pretty good scam. Half the time we didn't even have film in the camera."

But Buzz gets serious. He hates the two-party system, but he has come to regret his vote for Nader.

"I almost feel like I didn't vote last time," he says. "When all the votes were tallied there was more wining about Gore losing because of people that voted for Nader, taking away his votes. I don't want to take away from Kerry.

"Anything to beat Bush, pretty much," he continues. "I'm really dissatisfied, the war, people dying for no reason. I don't see no end. It seems like we are spending more on other countries then our own. I'm not living in the lap of luxury right now. I don't know, I could use $80 billion in federal aid, the city could use it."

Kathy Bailey holds her granddaughter's hand on the gravel street. She says there is "no way" she could vote for George W. Bush.

"Because [Bush] is who he is, I think he bought the last election," she says. "And I don't trust him at all. He got us in this war, spending billions of dollars and I think Kerry's more for the people than Bush is."

But just barely more to Kathy; she still doesn't know John Kerry.

"I think it's interesting that he was married to Elizabeth Taylor at one time," she says, laughing.

Washington State leans Democratic. It's a swing state, but only slightly. Al Gore won the state's 11 electoral votes by 5 percentage points in 2000; Bill Clinton won here by 13 points in 1996.

Kathy thinks along these party lines. John Kerry, to her, is "just a politician like the rest of them, but he's a Democrat so maybe he'll be easier on us. Bush to me is for big business," she says. "The Democratic Party thinks more about the middle class, people that aren't billionaires and don't have oil companies."

The 63-year-old has never voted. He's conservative and would vote for George W. Bush, but "probably" won't. "No point in starting now," John explains.

"I work in Portland and see just about all the people I need to during the day and then come back here," he says under his breath.

Here, near Woodland and Vancouver, is John's home. His few acres are where the road ends. He uses the Internet, has a satellite dish, but hates politics because he hates politicians.

"I don't think any politician is out for anybody," he says. "They are just looking out for themselves."

On this rainy afternoon, John is spending most of his time in the garage restoring a 1972 blue Mustang. He finds the presidential campaign noxious.

"The mudslinging has already started," he says. John Kerry is too "slick looking." George Bush has "his good points and his bad." He leaves out the good.

"The thing in Iraq, I have no idea why we got into it. There are people getting killed over there about something that has nothing to do with us," John says. "They should be after bin Laden."

Though he knows his opinion isn't worth anything if he doesn't vote, John still expects to abstain. "I just don't have any use for either one of them. As long as they leave me alone, I'll leave them alone."

It's been ten years already for Amber Moon on these docks. Her uncle, Gary Moon, has been working the Port of Kalama for 25; her father, Gary's brother, about the same.

Amber is 29. She says she's going back to school. She pushes back her blonde hair and talks of how she would have loved to make it as an artist. Here, she does little things, office work, cleaning up.

The Moons are proudly working-class. They mention this repeatedly. It's the reason they intend to vote for John Kerry.

"It seems like the Republicans are always against the working class," she says. "They've never done anything good for people who go out and work for their money."

Gary says he'd "have to vote for John Kerry." His tone is lackluster.

Kerry's "a war veteran and he must know what's going on, and he's old enough now to know what's going on. I don't think he'd hold a grudge against another country or that type thing," says Gary.

Behind them, a red barge is loading crates. Often, these docks transport cow feed. The ships are from all over the world. Indian men speaking crisp British English work this barge, sailing under a Japanese flag.

The ships change, the docks don't. But things have changed shore-side. "You can't even fish on the beach anymore," Amber laments.

"They are going to put up fences," Gary says. "Why would a terrorist come down here? There's nothing to blow up."

Squirrels," Amber jokes.

"It drives me crazy," she later admits. "It seems like a lot of our freedoms here have changed. They're gone."

Amber says that's what the terrorists were trying to do, "take away the freedoms that we take for granted every day." Looking down at the shoreline, she says, "i looks like they've succeeded."

Gary hates showing ID. "Especially," he says, "since I've worked here 25 years and the guards have worked here for 15 and if you don't have your ID, you can't go to work. You gotta go home and get it."

This dock once had 100 men but less than 20 work here now. Many longshoremen are heading to California.

"Any family I know, someone is out of work," Amber says. "It seems like all my friends are struggling to make ends meet right now."

These are the shores this family has worked, walked, fished, for the whole of their lives. Their frustration with the direction of the country is deep.

Gary has friends with children serving in Iraq. He tells stories of young men who've been injured. Amber says some people she saw in the halls of her high school are now in Iraq.

"I can understand if they found some conclusive proof as to the reason we should be over there, but they haven't found anything," Amber says.

"People are dying for nothing right now," she continues. "I realize that their country has people that are dying, too. But it's like when you are on the airplane: take care of masks on your face before you assist those around you. I think we should be taking care of our problems here before we try and save anybody else."

By David Paul Kuhn