USTIN, Texas - It was a night of disappointed sighs and delighted screams, dressed-up galas and dressed-down street parties.
Early in the evening, Florida went into the Gore column, and the outdoor crowd watching election returns on oversized TV screens gasped. Hours later, Florida was returned to the too-close-to-call column, and Hollywood stars and behind-the-scenes names sharing a private dinner at the Inter-Continental Hotel erupted in applause.
Fingers crossed, nerves frayed, supporters of Governor George W. Bush of Texas from all walks of life converged on downtown Austin at dusk yesterday. Some of them headed to swank galas at homes and hotels; others shivered outdoors at a free party featuring one foot-stomping band after another.
As the night grew later, both groups grew more confident, even as the presidential race remained the tightest in their lifetimes. Surrounded by their own kind, diehard Republicans, or at least like-minded voters where the 2000 election was concerned, found optimism easier to come by than during a nail-biting afternoon.
Even the weather was cooperating. After eight hours of alternating drizzles and downpours, the night offered bone-numbing cold, but no rain.
''I was a little shaky, but I'm feeling good now,'' said accountant Amy Flint, a Bush supporter who had been turned away from the overflow party on closed-off Congress Avenue and was instead watching returns on a storefront TV. ''It looks like he's going to do it.''
Well after dusk settled in, along with an unexpected chill, the next president of the United States remained unclear. But none of the supporters who had made their way through metal detectors downtown were ceding any territory for their Texan. As Bob Hopkins, a campaign staff member, had joked earlier, ''You watch. The clouds will subside, the sun will come out and it will be, `Oh happy day.'''
But with it still unknown whether Bush would take to the red-carpeted stage to offer a victory or concession speech, the crowd was excited, but also subdued. Even the party for Bush campaign staffers was oddly quiet when the volunteers and paid employees who will be out of work today weren't screaming at the TV screen.
''I was a little bit discouraged, but now I'm feeling a little better,'' said Annelise Anderson, a research fellow at Stanford University's Hoover Institute and a Bush campaign adviser who had stopped by the party. ''These things are hard to know.''
At the small party in a corner hotel room were several Hollywood types - among them Rick Schro der from ''NYPD Blue,'' a woman who played one of the lesser roles on ''Dynasty'' (or maybe it was ''Dallas''), and Gerald McRaney from the TV show ''Major Dad.'' The group, by and large, appeared California laid-back. Few sat on the edge of their chairs.
''The polls were right; it's been neck and neck, impossibly tight,'' said Douglas Urbanski, who produced the current Hollywood hit and political thriller ''The Contender,'' and who was, in fact, sitting on the edge of a couch. Urbanski declined to call the election, but was happy to call President Clinton names.
''Bush is more qualified than Clinton was at this minute,'' Urbanski said. ''Arkansas was a laugh-at state when Clinton became president. ... And spare me the importance of intelligence in a president. I lived through Clinton and [Jimmy] Carter.''
Last night Austin, known for its music venues and liberal tendencies, was clearly Bush country. Still, one downtown coffee house featured two tip jars, one for the would-be local hero, another for his out-of-town rival. Late in the afternoon, Bush's jar was empty, while Gore's was crammed with coins and bills.
As the long wait began, the lobbies and elevators of Austin's more exclusive hotels were filled with men in subdued suits and women wearing shiny dresses - out-of-town supporters.
Bush himself sat down to a family dinner with his wife, children, parents, siblings, and other relatives who had flown in from across America after some last-minute campaigning. They headed to the Shoreline Grill, but after only 50 minutes or so they returned to the governor's mansion to watch election returns from there. About the same time, TV newscasters were giving Michigan and Florida to Gore.
''It's going to be thrilling,'' Hap Ellis, Bush's first cousin, who arrived from Boston yesterday. ''It's going to be a long night, but we're pretty sure it's over [in Bush's favor]. We're thinking positive.''
So were Jerry and Nancy Shelton, who said they had sold 7,450 Bush/Cheney T-shirts throughout the year at $12 apiece. In recent days they were so confident they printed 500 unofficial Victory 2000 T-shirts, which they predicted would sell out by evening's end.
For much of yesterday, the on-and-off rains kept downtown Ausin vacant of most anyone. Shopkeepers who had hoped to profit from the possibility of a Bush presidency stared out at all but deserted sidewalks. Even the lobbies of the city's sold-out hotels appeared oddly empty.
At Bush campaign headquarters, a suite of offices, senior strategists worked the phones, while caterers served a buffet lunch of chicken and beef fajitas. The flowers in the coffee table centerpiece, replete with chili peppers, were a ubiquitous red, white, and blue.
Bush wasn't scheduled to take to the stage before 10 p.m. Texas time. Long before then, bands began playing music with a Texas beat and Texans were claiming they had the race beat.
