Hot Spot
All the issues that are key to this fall's elections are on display in Ohio
With roughly 1 in 4 residents a white evangelical, Ohio has also been a hotbed of Christian-right activism; the successful effort to put a state constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage on the ballot in 2004 helped drive turnout for President Bush, who beat John Kerry here by fewer than 119,000 votes. And as the president and the GOP have redoubled efforts to mollify religious conservatives, DeWine has had to work hard to shore up his right flank. Conservatives were incensed at his role as one of the Senate's "Gang of 14" that struck a deal last year to avert a showdown over Bush's judicial nominees. But the confirmation of two conservative Supreme Court justices left him vindicated, and he was a cosponsor of the marriage protection amendment.
Brown, meanwhile, who opposed the Iraq war from the start and has decried trade deals like 2005's Central American Free Trade Agreement, has been tagged by the Ohio GOP as "way out in left field." But the University of Cincinnati poll shows that more than 60 percent of Ohioans disapprove of Bush's handling of Iraq and the economy. The state has lost more than 200,000 manufacturing jobs since 2000 and has seen an exodus of young people. State unemployment is at 5.5 percent, but a handful of southern counties have rates above 8 percent. "Our men and women are dying for nothing in Iraq," says Greg Pottersnak, a Steubenville truck driver out of work on disability. "We need to take care of America first. People can't find jobs." Such voters are primed for Brown's populism, which includes his campaign's heavy reliance on organized labor. "Which side are you on?" Brown asks rhetorically in Smithfield, near the West Virginia border. "Working families or drug companies?"
DeWine has already raised upwards of $5.5 million, more than twice as much as Brown, and a recent poll puts DeWine 10 points ahead. So the Democrats may have a better shot at the governor's seat, partly owing to Taft's troubles. A trial set for this summer for a Republican fundraiser charged with pocketing at least $1 million in a scheme involving state pension funds is expected to generate even more bad press for the state GOP.
Bona fides. An ordained Methodist minister and member of the National Rifle Association, Democratic gubernatorial candidate Strickland has, until now, been a congressman from a culturally conservative district that includes a big chunk of Appalachia. "He doesn't need to put on a camouflage suit and go hunting to convince people he shares their values," says Herb Asher, a political scientist at Ohio State University.
Touring the Feast of the Flowering Moon Parade in Chillicothe, an hour south of Columbus, Strickland meets a young Methodist seminarian and breaks into a rendition of the hymn "Great Is Thy Faithfulness." Discussing his support for raising the state minimum wage via a ballot initiative, Strickland says, "Christian values ... call us to care for people who are hungry, who don't have healthcare." A stroll through Chillicothe--known for the gluey aroma of its paper mill--puts Strickland in touch with voters anxious over healthcare. A business owner says she can't afford health insurance; a retired union man says insurance premiums eat up his pension checks. Strickland's plan for lowering costs is murky, but folks aren't asking for specifics. "Our gas prices and everything is going out of sight, while Republicans in Columbus are getting kickbacks," says John Blakeman, a retired paper mill worker. "We need new blood."
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