Tenn. contest may have wide effect

MORRISON, TENN. —  Bobby Ray Freeze talks about U.S. Senate candidate Harold E. Ford Jr. with an excitement that most guys around here reserve for football.

The truck driver, who is white, said he liked Ford’s tough stance on illegal immigration and his rhetoric about helping working families. And he isn’t the least bit bothered that Ford is black.

Freeze considers himself a product of changing times in this rural swath of Middle Tennessee: His late father, he said, would have bristled if anyone even suggested voting for an African American.

“My daddy, he’d have had a few short words for you,” Freeze, 58, said with a chuckle.

Ford will need the support of many Tennesseans like Freeze if he wants to make history Tuesday by becoming the first black senator from the former Confederacy since Reconstruction.

The Democratic congressman is locked in a tight, nasty race against Republican Bob Corker, a popular former mayor of Chattanooga who is white. On Thursday, a Reuters/Zogby poll showed Corker leading 53% to 43%, but other recent polls have indicated that the race is closer.

The outcome could determine which party controls the upper house of Congress. It also could have implications for race and American politics that extend beyond Tuesday’s election. Bruce Oppenheimer, a political scientist at Vanderbilt University, said voters and political shot-callers might look to the election for clues about whether Southerners -- and Americans in general -- were comfortable electing black politicians to higher office.

Democrats, Oppenheimer said, will wonder about the chances of another high-profile black politician, Sen. Barack Obama of Illinois, if he decides to run for president in 2008.

“If Ford loses, people will say, ‘Here was this very attractive, moderate black candidate in a good year for Democratic candidates, and running against a Republican candidate who, although he had some money, was not something special,’ ” Oppenheimer said. “It might say something about whether there’s still a glass ceiling for African American politicians.”

Ford, a decade-long member of the House, is running on a center-right platform and has mostly tried to skirt the issue of race.

“I’ve never thought about race,” Ford told MSNBC’s Tim Russert on Friday. “Don’t believe for one moment just because we’re in the South that we can’t look for what’s in our best interest, and look for the person who will best serve and represent us.”

It has been difficult, however, for Ford to avoid the issue since Oct. 20, when Republicans introduced one of the season’s most talked-about attack ads. In the 30-second TV spot, a bare-shouldered white woman coos “call me” to Ford -- a reference to the Democrat’s attendance at a Playboy-sponsored party. The ad has been pulled, but Republicans were accused of stirring up old Southern fears of miscegenation.

Republicans in recent years have made a greater effort to reach out to black voters. Last year, Republican National Committee Chairman Ken Mehlman publicly renounced old Republican strategies that sought to “benefit politically from racial polarization.”

If Corker wins, Republican leaders may have to rethink that pledge, Oppenheimer said, and ask, “Was it the racial appeal that did it?”

And yet at Prater’s BBQ -- where Freeze stopped for lunch Thursday -- the crowd had much more to talk about than Ford’s skin color. The restaurant is in Warren County, a rural area about 80 minutes southeast of Nashville that is 95% white.

It is a long way, culturally and geographically, from Ford’s home base in Memphis, which is 61% black. And it is exactly the kind of place where he needs support.

The Carrier Corp. air conditioning plant closed in August 2005, eliminating more than 1,000 jobs. Some said illegal immigrants were pushing down wages. The county went for Al Gore in the 2000 presidential election, and for President Bush in 2004.

This year, residents said they were worried about their jobs and businesses, about healthcare and Iraq. They were also trying to gauge the moral character of the two candidates after weeks of withering personal attacks from both sides.

Ford’s conservative leanings made a believer out of Steve Martin, 46, a nursery farmer who is white. Martin said he particularly liked Ford’s support for the House’s border overhaul bill, which would make felons of illegal immigrants.

Still, he said, Ford’s race “hurts him. It doesn’t for me at all -- but I think there’s still some of that [racism] in this region.”

Brad Broadrick, 32, said he was leaning toward Corker. His concerns about Ford, he said, had nothing to do with his race and everything to do with his family. Ford’s uncle, a former state senator, is currently under indictment on bribery charges, and Ford’s father -- who held the Memphis congressional seat before his son -- was investigated for corruption in the 1980s, though cleared of wrongdoing. Broadrick said those issues would hurt Ford more than his skin color.

“The apple don’t fall far from the tree, right?” he said.

Restaurant owner Gary Prater said he liked Ford’s chances in Warren County. Prater, a longtime Democratic activist, held a rally for Ford on Monday that attracted 1,000 people. But he also said he had heard “a lot of people” say they would never vote for a black man, and some used the most virulent racist language.

“That really surprised me,” Prater said. “I think it’s a shame.”

It is unclear how broad that sentiment is in Tennessee, and whether it can sink Ford’s campaign. What is clear is that Ford has taken his message directly to white conservatives -- and charmed enough of them to stay competitive.

On Friday, Ford ads were running on FM country radio and AM right-wing talk stations. At about 7:30 a.m., he appeared at a rally in Hendersonville, a middle-class suburb of Nashville. About 150 people, mostly white, showed up. The candidate, who attended the prestigious St. Albans School in Washington, D.C., clacked around in a pair of black cowboy boots.

He told the crowd he was worried about nuclear proliferation. He told them he was sick of his opponent’s negative ads, and declared that he was not afraid to declare his love for Jesus.

When he finished, the crowd mobbed him, kneading his shoulders and squeezing his arm as if he were a lucky charm.

A few hours later, Ford’s tour bus rolled into Lebanon, about 30 miles east of Nashville. The crowd was a mix of blacks and whites, and they received him just as warmly.

It was the second time Ford supporter Janelle Grimland, a 78-year-old white woman who said she was fed up with Bush, had seen her candidate close up. The first time Grimland saw him, she said, she was confused by his light complexion.

“He had a baseball hat on, and I said, ‘He’s not black, he’s a white man.’ ” It wasn’t until Ford took the hat off, she said, that she saw his “kinky hair.”

“Not that it matters to me,” she said cheerfully.

Grimland’s sister Hallie Tuggle, 80, said she didn’t care about Ford’s race either. She had just had a little face time with the handsome politician, and was beaming.

“He gave me a kiss, right here,” she said, pointing to her cheek. “I’m not going to wash my face tonight.”

richard.fausset@latimes.com