The Ohio Republican County That Could Tip the Election

The New Battlegrounds Hamilton County, Ohio

Modest, workmanlike and a little wary of theatrics, Ohioans have nonetheless developed a flair for the dramatic when it comes to presidential elections. In 2004, election night came and went with no clear winner in the Buckeye State, and for a few long hours it seemed that the nightmare of 2000 just might repeat itself. When the results were finally tabulated, George W. Bush had won the state by just over 118,000 votes–a difference of fewer than 11 ballots per precinct.

This year Ohio is gearing up to put on another show. Both campaigns have spent enough time here that they should have invested in Quickpay cards for doughnut runs to Tim Hortons. John McCain chose Dayton for the site of Sarah Palin’s coming-out party, and Barack Obama turned up in Canton to launch his “closing argument” speech for the last week of the race. In the latest TIME/CNN/Opinion Research poll, Obama held a 51%-to-47% lead over McCain but trailed him 48% to 50% among pivotal suburban voters.

Both McCain and Obama expected hand-to-hand combat in Ohio as the 2008 campaign drew to a close. But Hamilton County, which includes and surrounds Cincinnati, was never in anyone’s battle plan. Over the past 100 years, its voters have backed the Democratic presidential candidate only four times. The county has been such unfriendly territory for Democrats that former Ohio governor John Gilligan, a Cincinnati native, once famously remarked that, “they hunt Democrats with dogs for sport in Hamilton County.”

This year, however, Hamilton is up for grabs. Nestled in the southwestern corner of Ohio, where table-flat corn and wheat fields abruptly give way to hilltops, Cincinnati overlooks Kentucky from its perch above the Ohio River. “It’s really two cities,” says Dorothy Weil, 78, whose husband chaired the local Democratic Party two decades ago, “the East and the West.” Culturally and politically, the West Side closely resembles its Kentucky neighbors and is dotted with working-class Catholic towns where people still place one another by asking which parochial high school they attended. Across town is the East Side, an affluent web of hillside communities that house executives from Macy’s, Procter & Gamble and the seven other FORTUNE 500 companies that are based in Cincinnati.

For years, the social conservatism of the western part of the county and the fiscal conservatism of the eastern part formed an unbreakable Republican lock in Hamilton. Democrats like Weil focused their efforts on urban neighborhoods and only occasionally picked up support from surrounding townships and cities. But this year the Obama campaign sees a chance to pick the lock. Four years ago, Bush won the county by less than 6 percentage points; in 2006, Democrats took over the county commission for the first time in 44 years. In 2000, the last time both parties had a competitive primary, 115,300 voters participated on the GOP side, while only 54,600 cast votes for Democrats. This year the numbers are flipped: 83,400 voted for Republican candidates, and nearly 165,000 participated in the Democratic primary. Although Hillary Clinton won Ohio easily, Obama’s best showing statewide came in Hamilton, where he won 63% of the vote. “We have a reservoir of support there,” says Isaac Baker, Obama’s Ohio spokesman.

See a video on Economy and Politics in Rural Ohio.
See pictures of John McCain’s final push.
See pictures of Barack Obama’s home stretch.

Much of that reservoir is African American. While Bush chipped into Ohio’s black vote in 2004, the Obama campaign expects to see black support above 90%. In a county like Hamilton, which is one-quarter African American, that enthusiasm could provide the margin of victory. Obama’s army has blanketed the county with signs and posters. Capitalizing on Ohio’s early-voting law, it has organized van rides to shuttle students, low-income residents and even homeless voters to the early polling station downtown. One Obama aide says the campaign needs socially conservative whites on the East Side, but adds, “We’re expecting record turnout among African Americans.”

The strength of Obama’s surge in Hamilton is evident in the lift it is giving down-ballot Democrats who otherwise might not stand a chance. On a recent afternoon, congressional candidate Steve Driehaus spent a few hours knocking on doors in Forest Park, a North Side working-class suburb of mostly African-American families that have moved out of the city. It’s a neighborhood where nearly every front window sports a yellow ribbon or American-flag decal, and Driehaus barely needs to make his pitch. “Oh, yeah, we’re voting for you,” says a middle-aged woman. “We saw you at the rally with Obama.” At another house, he exchanges a fist pound with a 3-year-old African-American girl named Kennedy.

Twelve miles (19.3 km) and several tax brackets away is Indian Hill, an East Side suburb that is home to those fiscally conservative swing voters the Obama campaign would like to win over. A drive around Indian Hill’s winding country lanes leaves a visitor thinking it’s less a town than a state park with sprawling manors. Bush beat John Kerry here by better than 3 to 1, and McCain and Palin have each dropped by in the past few months to raise money. But just a few weeks before the 2008 election, the yard signs anchored at the end of the long driveways were as likely to read OBAMA as MCCAIN. On Oct. 22, McCain and Palin flew in to fire up several thousand of their supporters at a local airport hangar. “Nothing is inevitable!” the Senator shouted. “We never give up. We never quit.”

The changing political landscape in Hamilton County has left the McCain campaign with only one sure bloc of voters–social conservatives–and even they have required convincing. Cincinnati is home to some of the country’s most active social-conservative leaders, including antipornography crusader Phil Burress. Many have never forgiven McCain for famously describing religious conservatives as intolerant in 2000. The McCain campaign hired Mike Huckabee’s Ohio director to help smooth relations with social conservatives. The candidate himself came to Cincinnati in late June for a private meeting with half a dozen leaders to remind them of his opposition to abortion and ask for their support. After that conversation, Burress declared himself a “changed man.”

“We knew early on that this was a constituency that we had to make every effort to get on board,” says Joe Seaton, the McCain aide in charge of southwest Ohio. “And we have done so.” But the outreach, along with McCain’s selection of Palin as his running mate, may have alienated socially moderate swing voters and explains why McCain aides say they are targeting “the Cincinnati media market”–meaning more conservative outer counties like Butler and Warren–instead of the once rock-solid Hamilton.

There is one other piece of drama unfolding here: election officials are preparing for a wild Nov. 4, with turnout rates that could reach 80%. Sally Krisel, Hamilton County’s director of elections, has ordered new machines and plans to set up extra tables with privacy screens if the booths reach capacity. “I even ordered extra clipboards,” says Krisel. “If we get really jammed, we’ll stick ballots on clipboards and start handing those out.” So for anyone looking to predict the outcome in Ohio this year, forget exit polls and anecdotal reports–but pay attention to whether those clipboards come out in Hamilton.

See pictures of John McCain’s final push.
See pictures of Barack Obama’s home stretch.