Candidate Gore reintroduces himself in N.H.

By Jill Zuckman, Globe Staff, March 29, 1999

CONCORD, N.H. -- Al Gore slept here.

Not in a hotel, but at Sylvia and Bob Larsen's grand white colonial on the hill. The vice president went for a jog Saturday morning with the neighbors, and he hung out with more people at house parties in Concord, Manchester, and Nashua. He also stopped for a cheese omelette at the Capital City Diner in Concord, and ate lunch at Chez Vachon in Manchester, a French-Canadian greasy spoon.

This is part of Gore's answer to the inevitability problem that plagued Walter F. Mondale in 1984, and the identity problem that dogged George Bush in 1988.

Gore and his campaign team have been studying history, hoping to avoid the pitfalls of former vice presidents who stumped here for their party's presidential nomination.

The result: Gore will visit New Hampshire often this year, and he jokes he is trying to meet everyone in the state.

"It really is true that an institution that lets presidential candidates in living rooms in front of small groups is a good thing," Gore said in an interview Saturday morning.

"It's a completely different venue and it weeds out those who are simply performance artists in front of large staged events," he said.

His campaign team is trying to keep Gore close to the ground -- and the voters -- as much as possible. They are trying to keep their campaign organization open and inviting, too, to prevent activists from drifting off to Bill Bradley's camp. And they are trying to help Gore step out from behind President Clinton and define himself in his own way.

In the first-in-the-nation primary state, it is particularly difficult being a front-runner with an entourage as you try to cut through the clutter to reintroduce yourself.

"In New Hampshire, if you're a front-runner, it's a little like putting a target on your chest," said Dayton Duncan, a Gore supporter who worked for Mondale.

"There's a tradition of people wanting to see you personally and in smaller rather than larger settings," he said. "For a sitting vice president, that's more difficult than for Lamar Alexander."

For his part, Gore says he understands that.

"I don't think people know much of anything about the candidates, me included," Gore said. "I think you introduce yourself to the American people over an extended period of time."

Over the weekend, Gore tried to show himself off as spontaneous and warm, attentive to all. On his way to North Conway Friday, he jumped out of his Suburban in Dover, stopping to buy daffodils at Harvey's Bakery to benefit the American Cancer Society. There, he had his picture snapped with 8-year-old Jessica Cummings, who was walking by with her mother, Cindy.

At the annual Grover Cleveland dinner for Carroll County Democrats, Gore would not leave until he shook hands with each of the 250 people in the room. While staying with the Larsens, he answered the telephone for them, surprising their friends.

To a certain extent, the personal contact seemed to be working. When Jim Craig, a Manchester attorney, walked in the door of Dan and Marcy Lyman's home Saturday afternoon, he was undecided. After listening to Gore speak, Craig signed a pledge agreeing to help the campaign.

"I heard all the criticism about him being wooden," said Craig. "But I didn't think that was true today."

And that is the point Gore's staff and advisers are making.

"We've always done a certain amount of it, but you're going to see more of it," promised Ronald Klain, Gore's chief of staff, referring to the one-on-one contacts. "People just need to get to know him better."

Mondale, the former vice president with the large organization, was considered the likely -- perhaps inevitable -- nominee in 1984. He ran into trouble in New Hampshire as Gary Hart drubbed him for being a captive of special interests. When Hart's surprisingly strong showing in the Iowa caucuses lit a fire under his candidacy, Mondale began campaigning in the South, rather than staying in the state.

Members of Gore's inner circle say they are determined to include everyone in New Hampshire who wants to help Gore become president. When Mondale ran, many activists felt they could make more of an impact with a less-established candidate. Even though Mondale had received every big-name endorsement in the state, Hart upended him in the voting booth.

"They're paranoid of history and should be, quite frankly," said Jeff Woodburn, a key Gore player and former chairman of New Hampshire's Democratic Party.

Advisers see even closer parallels to Bush's situation in 1988, as he sought to establish his own identity apart from a popular president, Ronald Reagan. Just as Gore is frequently described as boring, Bush was labeled a cautious wimp.

Bush ran into further trouble rehabilitating his image when he delayed campaigning in New Hampshire and Iowa.

But with the help of then-Governor John Sununu, Bush managed to pull his campaign together and resurrect his image in the final days to win the New Hampshire primary.

At age 50, Gore is philosophical, however, about how much he can change from his slightly stilted ways in front of a microphone, saying he's old enough to believe he'll never entirely be rid of his habits.

"I think as I get older, I'm learning how to express myself more easily in large groups the way I do in small groups," Gore said.

Still, his advisers are urging him to step out front and show his own agenda, to complement the personal greetings.

By the time New Hampshire voters go to the polls on primary day next year, William H. Shaheen, his state chairman here, is hoping Gore's identity will have been forged: "They're going to look at him as a man and not as a vice president."