For Missouri voters, a drama in two parts

By Yvonne Abraham, Globe Staff, 11/9/2000

EBSTER GROVES, Mo. - Perplexed over the suddenly chaotic state of American democracy? Spare a thought for the good folks of Missouri.

The rest of the nation awoke yesterday to find their electoral system in limbo after television commentators played an all-night, winless game of hot potato with the state of Florida.

Bleary-eyed Missouri residents faced that bizarre state of affairs, and more. Not only had they no idea who the next president of the United States would be, but their late governor had just been elected to the US Senate.

Voters had chosen Mel Carnahan, the Democrat killed in a plane crash a few weeks ago, over incumbent Senator John Ashcroft. The late governor's place in Congress now is to be taken by his wife, Jean. Meanwhile, accusations of wrongdoing at St. Louis ballot locations were flying.

These two surreal dramas were all anyone was talking about yesterday in this autumn leaf-blanketed town just outside St. Louis, where locals take their politics seriously, and usually pick the man who will be president. Their choice Tuesday was Texas Governor George W. Bush, and folks here will have to wait on the Florida recount to know if their record is intact.

''It's pretty crazy that you can go to bed and Ashcroft can be winning, and Bush can be winning, and we wake up and nobody knows,'' said Scott Aho, owner of the busy O.T. Hodge Chile Parlor. ''How can the system be so loose? That's the topic of discussion with every customer here since 6 a.m.''

The presidential Ring Cycle and the senatorial operetta elicited much acute emotion here, to wit: anxiety; sadness (for Ashcroft, Gore, and their sleepless selves, mostly); anger (at suspicious balloting practices, the electoral college, exit polls and premature forecasters); and intense amusement (mostly at said forecasters' expense).

The unreal endgame had managed to pull something from the electorate that neither candidate had managed in over a year of campaigning: strong feelings. Five visits to Webster Groves over recent months had found voters struggling with a disheartening reality: they were thrilled with neither Vice President Al Gore nor Bush. There would be no joy in casting votes for either one, said most of the dozens of people interviewed. The whole campaign had left some of them barely invested in its outcome.

But here they were, tense and glued to their television sets in the wee hours, desperate to see who would win, talking about it on the streets and in the cafes.

''I definitely care more now,'' said Marilyn Williams, a waitress at Hodges. ''Now I feel twice as strong about Gore. I never thought Bush had a chance.''

Carl Hauck had ridden the emotional rollercoaster as long as he could stand it Tuesday night. He had gone to bed depressed, after Gore ''won'' Florida.

''My wife had more faith,'' he said. She sat vigil, then woke him up at 2 a.m. and said `Look, Bush won!' ''Five minutes later he hadn't won. I think it's crazy!''

He was still anxious yesterday afternoon, not to mention appalled by the Senate contest, as the news got out that officials had held the polling booths open an extra hour to allow more St. Louis residents to vote before a judge ordered them closed.

Possible underhandedness at the polls was only marginally more deplorable in Webster Groves than last night's television commentary, however.

''I got tired of the media predictions,'' said Les Walker, 65. ''I liked it when they took Florida back. Dan Rather apologized!''

''They were running to whatever side of the ship was listing,'' Hauck said with a laugh. They both noted with satisfaction that the know-it-all prognosticators had gotten their come-uppance for once.

''I didn't care who won,'' said Bob Lohr, a 48-year-old lawyer who voted for Bush. ''I don't know if I necessarily care any more now, but I stayed up till 3 a.m.''

For Lohr, the drama was almost as captivating as the pundits' reversals. ''They had egg on their faces twice. And they're so smug. They have the election pegged at 7 p.m. I thought it was funny.''

Funny wasn't the first word that came to mind for other voters, however.

''Everybody's been so depressed about it,'' said Carrie Alden, 27, who works at a cafe. ''It's so unsettled. Let's just start it over. It's such a mess right now, it got so jumbled up. Maybe we need to do it all again?''

''I think the whole country is out of sorts,'' said Ann Foy, who owns a bookstore in town. ''Nobody's come in here today. I've never seen [the system] this chaotic. I see it as more cut and dried: You go vote, they count your vote, and that's it.''

For Barbara Martin Smith, who struggled for months before deciding to support Bush, there was good to be gleaned from this cliffhanger of an election night, no matter who won. ''It makes all of us who have the right to vote realize quite clearly how important our one vote is,'' she said.

Jim Russell, a mental health counselor who had struggled equally hard with his decision, and who at one time thought both Bush and Gore worthy candidates, was in no mood for such silver linings yesterday.

Russell had gone from Bush family devotee to Gore fan just after the Democratic convention. Now he faced the prospect of a candidate he admired possibly losing the presidency, even while winning the popular vote.

''I feel a sense of tragedy with this whole thing,'' he said. ''It's worked out doubly bad for me. I would much prefer the person who gets the popular vote would be the president. It will be really hard for him if [Bush] prevails this way, 1,700 votes in the state of Florida being the difference. I think people are going to be pretty saddened.

''At least,'' he added, ''half of the people.''