Also this issue: What are the odds? -Daryl Gale

November 7-13, 2002

cover story

Rendell For President?

Illustration By: bill westervelt

By Howard Altman, Deborah Bolling, Daniel Brook, Daryl Gale, Marty Levine, Rich Lord and Vicky Taylor
Edited by Frank Lewis aned David Warner

One of the key questions on Election Day was not whether Ed Rendell would win, but by how much. City Paper sent a team of reporters to ask another question. Could a big Rendell victory pave the way to Washington?

Election Day

6:58 a.m. Holy Cross Church, Mt. Airy Road

"Uh-oh, this is going to be a problem," says a white-haired woman who is struggling

with the blue plastic voting machine curtain.

It is the first of several snafus here, site of the 22nd Ward, 16th Division polling place.

As voters queue up, Vernon Price, leader of the 22nd Ward, is fiddling with two machines, making last-minute adjustments.

More voters show up. And wait.

It is a rough start to a long day.

"The judge of elections moved out of the district and didn't show up," Price explains. "The majority inspector was killed in a murder/suicide."

Rudy Tolbert, Democratic committeeman from the 22nd Ward, 16th Division, shrugs off any suggestion that a big Rendell win will propel him toward the White House.

"He needs to look at the Senate first," says Tolbert. "We haven't seen any Pennsylvania governor make that leap. In Pennsylvania, you really don't have that national spotlight."

	Vernon Van Go: 22nd Ward Leader Vernon Price marshals the troops to get out the vote on Germantown Avenue in Mt. Airy.

Jeff Lyons, who is first in line and patiently waiting, looks at the new voting machines and has a pang of nostalgia.

"With these machines, you don't hear the sound of the curtains closing. There's no action. It almost feels like you're not voting."

By 7:09, Price, without any help from an election judge or a majority inspector, gets the machines up and running and Lyons casts his vote for Rendell.

8:15 a.m., 22nd Ward Democratic Headquarters, 7141 Germantown Ave.

Rondal Couser, ward chairman, is hustling campaign workers in and out of the empty storefront, last occupied by a cultish pseudo-charitable organization called Planet Aid.

"We have 56 people canvassing the neighborhood," he says with great excitement as he marshals the troops. "In addition, we have 56 committee people and 30 volunteers."

Inside the room, Vernon Price predicts a high turnout in his ward.

"At least 60 percent," he says.

As more and more volunteers pour in, Price is also excited and sees this day as a possible precursor to a Rendell presidential run.

"He will have the status as No. 1 in the Democratic Party in the state for four years," says Price. "He's No. 1 in the polls. And he has the charisma to do what no one from Philadelphia has been able to do since 1914."

While Couser and Price are ecstatic, their smiles pale in comparison to the big grin worn by Peter Nyok, who came to Philadelphia two years ago as one of the Lost Boys of Sudan.

"I am supporting Ed Rendell," says Nyok. "He will help the poor people."

Nyok is smiling not just out of happiness for Rendell.

"Before I came to this country, I did not know about the electoral process," he says. "I love it."

8:20 a.m., Opa Restaurant, Kensington

Diner waitress Catalina Mendez plans to vote for Ed Rendell after she gets off work. "I like the way he comes across. He seems sincere." Her coworker, Maria Perez, isn't convinced. "I never vote," she says in Spanish as Mendez translates. "The politicians offer, offer, offer, but they never deliver."

9:45 a.m., Brookline section of Pittsburgh

In Edwin and Helen Ellwood's basement game room, the contest of the day is Rendell vs. Fisher. Are there many players? "No," says a poll worker. "It's light."

Twice a year, county workers open the garage door and wheel voting machines into this two-bedroom ranch house. And twice a year, Democratic county committeeman Tom Matrascia Jr. paces in the driveway. Rendell hasn't courted the conservative Democrats who inhabit his middle-class turf, Matrascia says. He points to Rendell's sign, dwarfed by two Jack Wagner for State Senate placards. "[Rendell] sure didn't waste much money on that sign."

10:15 a.m., Pittsburgh

At the Jewish Community Center in Pittsburgh's Squirrel Hill neighborhood, an elderly man reads a Russian newspaper in the entry hall. In the middle of four polling stations, larger-than-life photographs of former inmates of Ravensbrück, the Nazi concentration camp for women, stand like accusations. Inmate Charlotte Müller, one sign informs, "suffered severe punishment for nonparticipation in patriotic ceremonies." Not to worry; the locals have turned out to support one of their own -- the Democrat. Religion has nothing to do with the turnout. Fisher's attempt to tar Rendell as the anti-heaven candidate has barely registered here.

"In Squirrel Hill we're so very Democratic," says Minority Inspector Marge Myers.

"For 100 years," says Majority Inspector Diane Datz.

"We're up to 67 voters. That's good. That's like about the best it's been," says Myers.

	Smoke Break: Michelle Vanguilder (crutches) stands outside the 31st Ward, 18th Division polling place at 2455 Frankford Ave. with Billy Bones (second from right), Eloise Donahue and (in cap) an unidentified man.

"Very busy," adds Datz.

Outside, two desultory Rendell-Knoll posters are dwarfed by a huge pair of placards for Dan Frankel, a local State House member running for re-election, unopposed. Rendell doesn't even have to try here and Fisher hasn't bothered.

Half a block away, Rabbi Stephen Steindel, of Beth Shalom, the city's largest conservative Jewish congregation, emerges from a sleepy polling spot in the Squirrel Hill branch of the Carnegie Library. "You better vote, it's slow in there," he calls to a passerby. The children's section of the library is swarming right across the way; Pittsburgh public schools are closed. Lined up alone and taskless behind their table beneath a faux Pollock, the polling station's judges and inspectors resemble an ill-attended Last Supper.

Caroline Mitchell, a minority inspector, stands and takes up her knitting. "This could be a three-sock day. Six hours per sock. And we don't have much to count today." Indeed, besides Frankel and State Rep. Mike Doyle (also Democratic, also unopposed) and of course the star attraction of Rendell, there is only the state's referendum on emergency services funding.

Has the rabbi decided? Rendell-Knoll, of course. "I think as a pair they came closer to understanding the needs and nuances of the gubernatorial office. I think Rendell's track record is spotty but at least hopeful. My hope is that he keeps the kind of vigor and vision that any of the offices need." Speaking of any old office, what about Rendell for president in 2008? "I wouldn't worry about 2008. As long as he serves his term, does his job, keeps his promises -- the old Woody Allen line -- shows up at the right things."

Mitchell turns to escort a rare voter into the curtained booth. You can get a free cup of coffee at Eat'n Park if you present your voting stub, she tells the voter.

Two blocks away, at Eat'n Park, greeter Joann Gray says she's received "about 10" voter stubs in exchange for coffee. "Or soft drinks," she adds. "But not to go."

10:35 a.m., Wyoming Branch of the Free Library, Kensington

"I'm court-appointed," says Thomas Taylor, waving a signed slip of paper with a gold seal. Taylor is a Republican and claims to be the duly certified judge of elections at this heavily Democratic polling place. Democrats on hand say the legitimate judge is Edward Lloyd. The dispute, they claim, is the result of a simple "paperwork snafu." Earlier in the morning cops had been called after Taylor threatened to shoot Lloyd. Taylor doesn't deny he made the threat, arguing that Lloyd deserved it for harassing his 12-year-old daughter for giving out campaign literature too close to the voting booths. Now Republican State Rep. candidate Steve Kush is on the scene. Hearing of the incident, he sighs, "Argh, my guy threatens to fuckin' shoot someone."

11:42 a.m., Kensington

"It's an enviro-killer," concedes Green Party activist Kevin Murphy. Murphy is describing the Green Party's "Mobile Command Center," a 1987 Dodge Caravan outfitted with an amplifier precariously tied to the roof. It blasts a two-minute-long tape loop urging voters, in English and Spanish, to support the Green Party ticket and especially Ernst Ford, who is challenging incumbent Angel Cruz to represent Kensington in the State House. "The tape is very home-brewed, low-quality," Murphy concedes. In between the calls to "vote for yourself, not the corporations," a lively ska tune kicks in -- a track picked out by Haitian-born Ford himself.

11:50 a.m., Franklin County

His name is Steve. That's all a nosy reporter needs to know, he says.

Steve has just cast his vote at the Fayetteville Volunteer Fire Co., one of Greene Township's polling places. He is a young man, perhaps in his early 20s. He voted Green, he says. Yes, he's heard of Ed Rendell; he read up on all the candidates on Tuesday's ballot. He knows Rendell might very well become Pennsylvania's next governor. Doesn't matter. His Green vote is a matter of conscience, he says.

Rendell as president sometime in the future? Maybe someday he'll feel differently, but today, so what?

Noon, Christian Street YMCA, South Philly

The sun has slipped behind the clouds and there's a distinct chill in the air. Many of the three-story rowhouses along Christian Street are vacant and windowless. Today, the already-littered streets are even more cluttered with "Ed Rendell for Governor" literature. Voters registered in the 30th Ward, 10th division, go to the Christian Street Y, a neighborhood haven for both the young and old, to cast their votes.

So far, of 302 registered voters, only 17 have shown up.

"After work, they come in droves," says Jennie Robbins, a snazzy senior decked out in a fashionable gold hat. "Then the families come to vote together. You know, mothers and daughters and all."

Robbins sits in the large, empty gymnasium with three other poll watchers.

"These new voting machines are causing some problems," says Flander Garland, the division's judge of elections. He gestures to two gray machines with blue plastic curtains. "We're having some problems here. I've called three times already, and nobody's shown up yet. I made the first call at 7:30. For Rendell's sake, I hope they show up."

Despite the poor showing, Robbins, a registered Republican and the division's minority inspector, says Rendell is definitely going to win.

"I knew him since he was a D.A.; then he was the mayor. Now, he's the governor," she says, with a knowing look. "I think he's gonna be president. I just hope I live to see it."

12:02 p.m., McPherson Square library branch, Kensington

Green Party poll watcher Esther Craft claims that poll workers seem a little too eager to help voters, some of whom are allowing Democratic party operatives into the voting booths. Election rules stipulate that voters can request in-booth help by signing an affidavit, but Craft claims that poll workers are encouraging Spanish speakers in the heavily Latino division to sign affidavits whether they want to or not. "If people just don't know English, that's not a valid reason" to send in a poll worker, Craft says. After all, the ballot is printed in English and Spanish.

Ernst Ford arrives on the scene and laments the fact that the poll workers are all tied up in the local Democratic party machine. "For $100 a day, they want to sell their souls. It's a shame," he says, referring to the $100 "street money" party activists are paid on Election Day to get out the vote.

12:35 p.m., 901 S. 15th St., South Philly

Other than the pink voting instructions taped to the front door, only a rusty metal chair, a discarded dining room chair and a wobbly folding table draped in plastic American flags indicate that this is a polling place. Inside, a few workers, squeezed in amongst two voting machines and a pinball machine, are scarfing down fish sandwiches with tartar and hot sauce.

"This lunch here is compliments of Kenny Gamble," says Marion Barnes, a longtime neighborhood activist, decked out in a leather hat with a colorful kinte cloth trim. "After all, this is his neighborhood."

So far, 62 of 286 registered voters, nearly all Democrats, have passed through this tiny hall. But the folks sitting around the desk say it's still early.

12:47 p.m., Conwell School, Kensington and Allegheny

	Still Life At Piccoli: Bea Rose (standing) and Marie Korper wait for action at Piccoli Playground polling site.

All has not gone according to plan at the 25th Ward, 20th Division polling place. "We had an electrical problem this morning," says Margaret Reichardt, who is working behind a long table, comparing voter lists against the names of actual voters. "It wasn't the machines, it was the school."

A dozen or so voters were turned away, says Reichardt. "They promised to come back," she says. "I hope they all do."

With a midday lull, Reichardt debated Rendell's future beyond Election Day with her fellow poll workers Bobbi Hevener and Henrietta Teufel.

"I would say he has a chance to be president," says Reichardt. "He knows what he wants and what he wants to do."

"It's just a matter of time before he runs for president," says Hevener. "His ego is too big not to."

12:56 p.m., 2535 Frankford Ave.

Francisco Manosca, once attorney general of the Philippines, is no longer among the living, but his spirit can still be felt at his former residence, once part of the neighboring VFW Post and current home to the Eighth Division of the 33rd Ward.

"His wife still votes here," says Michelle Vanguilder, who is standing outside with fellow campaign workers Billy Bones, Eloise Donahue and Tom Miller.

"Things are kind of slow here," says Miller, walking inside.

The house is pretty much as it was when Manosca was still alive. It is cluttered, smells of cats and the walls are lined with items such as the big plaque commemorating survivors of the Battle of Corregidor.

Forrest Gump blares from a wall-mounted television.

"How's your dad?" a poll worker asks Miller.

"Oh, he died last month," Miller answers. "He won't be voting today."

1:05 p.m., Pinn Memorial Baptist Church, Wynnefield

Amin Owens of Wynnefield has worked the polls here for the past four years, and is surprised at today's turnout.

"It really is higher than usual," Owens says without looking up from the list of the division's voters. He can't take much time to talk, since there is a steady stream of people waiting to cast their ballots.

"It's been this way since this morning. I don't know if they're just coming out for Rendell or what, but they're sure coming out," he says as he signs in his 218th voter of the day.

1:13 p.m., Neumann Medical Center, 1741 Frankford Ave.

Dominique Wildonger is walking into the voting machine for the first time.

And on her birthday, no less.

"She's 2 today," says her father, Brian Wildonger.

When asked who Dominique will vote for, Brian is about to answer, but is interrupted by Louise Voillerment, committeewoman for the 18th Ward, 10th Division.

"We really can't discuss politics here," says Voillerment, enforcing strict adherence to election laws forbidding talk of specific candidates.

"OK, I'll tell you who we voted for outside," says Wildonger, taking Dominique behind the voting machine's blue curtain.

Standing on the sidewalk outside the polling place, he says he voted for Rendell. "I like his stand on taxes and all," says Wildonger.

When asked if he thinks Rendell might one day run for the White House, Wildonger says, "Yeah and no."

"I think he would be good," he says. "But usually people from Philadelphia don't have a chance down in the West and all."

1:30 p.m., Woody's Barber Shop, Wynnefield

Robert "Woody" Woodard is more than just a barber. He's a philosopher, psychiatrist, writer, filmmaker and genuine political insider. Woodard regularly cuts the hair of many, if not most, of the city's black politicians, athletes, entertainers, lawyers and city administrators. Like all barbers, he loves to talk, and they love talking to him. And the conversation in Woody's Barber Shop almost always centers on politics and current events. "West Philly is really turning out to vote today," Woody says while deftly clipping a customer's unruly afro. "And I give credit to Chaka Fattah. He's one of my regulars. Rendell is going to win big here, and much of that is due to Chaka getting out the black vote. He has a powerful street machine, and I give him all the respect."

Asked about Rendell's presidential chances in 2008, Woody laughs.

"I think Ed is capable of anything. He can sure raise the money, and he knows how to get his message out. He'd be a great president. He'd address urban education and revitalization, and bring other cities back from the brink like he did here. Philly isn't all the way back yet, but we're getting there."

So would Rendell get his vote for the presidency?

	Greet Expectations: Leroy Ford guides voters through the election process at the Ethel B. Allen School in North Philly.

"Sure, but I hope he picks Chaka as his running mate," he laughs.

2 p.m., Barratt Middle School, South Philly

"For the last 15 years, our Democratic majority has held in this division," election judge Matthew Jones says proudly, double-checking some paperwork. "But I've noticed that voters are distraught that they only see these [candidates] when the elections come. They're asking me why can't these folks hold public meetings, instead of just riding around waving and kissing babies?"

Ninety-four of 541 registered voters have already voted. The poll watchers say this is better than usual for this time of day.

"A lot of people feel like, ŒWhy should I vote?'" says Blanche Cohen, the minority inspector. "There's been so many problems in the [voting rolls]. People who voted in the last election aren't listed anymore. We've been instructed to tell them to walk over to the police station to find out where they should go, but they don't want to make that walk. And you can't blame them. If we get 200 total today, we've done good."

2:32 p.m., Scanlon Rec Center, Kensington

Green Party activist Vivek Anantham is responding to the latest in a series of calls from his poll watchers at the Scanlon Rec Center. In 1999, Anantham served as an election observer in East Timor during its vote for independence from Indonesia. "Ninety-seven percent went to the polls," he says of the Timorese referendum, adding that election observers had more access to records and polling places in East Timor than duly certified poll watchers have in Philadelphia.

2:45 p.m., 12th and Tasker, South Philly

Some construction workers have gathered on the front steps of State Sen. Vincent Fumo's office. Inside, the phones are ringing off the hook. Fumo is beneath the fray, seated comfortably in his well-appointed basement offices.

"Eddie is a fait accompli," he says, futzing with his flat-screen computer. "Twelve or 20 points, it doesn't make a difference. I'm more worried about the suburbs. We've got tons of people out there and the good news is that we're hearing that the percentage of Democratic turnout is exceeding Republican turnout. We're hoping for a coattail effect. We're hoping that Eddie can energize Democrats who didn't vote before and that'll encourage Republicans to vote. Right now, it looks real good for Eddie."

And the presidential question? Could a Jewish Pennsylvania governor make it to the White House?

"I know in the back of his mind he's thinking about a run for president," Fumo says, tilting his head and leaning back in his chair. "With the numbers I expect today, he'll definitely be a contender. His being a Jew has not been a problem for him. Actually, a lot of people think he's Italian. You know, maybe they think that he's changed his name from Rendelli to Rendell."

2:59 p.m., Palumbo Rec Center, South Philly

This home to four divisions in the Second Ward is buzzing with activity as voters file in, election workers mill about and pizza is delivered.

"This is courtesy of Suzanne Haney," says 24th Division election judge Jack Morley, who later explains that at Palumbo, Democrats and Republicans may differ, but they long ago found a common ground -- food.

"There is a tradition here that in the primary, the Democrats provide the food and in the general, the Republicans provide the food. But today, both parties kicked in. Earlier today, Tony Palmieri, the Democratic Ward leader, sent in about 30 hoagies. Now Suzanne, the Republican Ward leader, provided pizza."

But all is not hunky-dory in the 24th.

"See this list?" asks Morley, who is no stranger to controversy. "There is a very big discrepancy between the voting list and the registered voters. There are about 150 more people on the voting list than are registered."

The discrepancy really hits home for Mitch Golding, who two years ago purchased a home at 637 Catharine St.

The voter list shows that a Joseph Odom lives at that address.

"My wife and I have been looking all over the house, in closets and the attic, but we haven't been able to find a Joseph Odom," Golding says with a smile.

A call to Michele Kelly, a detective in the District Attorney's homicide unit who today is investigating disputes at polling places, elicits surprise.

"Wow," she says. "I have never seen anything like that before."

Kelly refers the inquiry to Paul Burson in the D.A.'s office. Burson does not return a phone call.

3:23 p.m., Fumo's office, South Philly

Deep in the sanctum sanctorum of his political patron, City Councilman Jim Kenney says Ed Rendell has too much on his plate to even consider a run for the presidency.

As for his own future, Kenney rules out running against Mayor John Street in next year's primary.

"It would be too racially divisive for a non-minority to run against Street, who has been quick to play the race card," says Kenney. "Even though this is one of the most backwards administrations I have ever experienced, I just don't think it would be good for the city to have such a racially divisive race."

Kenney says he would much prefer an African-American candidate run against Street.

When pressed for names, Kenney suggests a few. "Dwight Evans is certainly qualified," he says. "Michael Nutter is qualified. And John White, too, if he wants to get back into it. There are a number of people who are capable."

4:05 p.m., 48th and Woodland Recreation Center

	Dominique's Peek: Two-year-old Dominique Wildonger peers out of a voting machine at the Neumann Medical Center on Frankford Avenue Tuesday.

Poll workers here, while reluctant to give their names, are more forthcoming with their turnout numbers. They say at least half of the division has already voted, and express surprise at the number. A better-than-50-percent turnout here is unusual, but to get that number four hours before the polls close is unprecedented. Asked what they think is the reason for the sudden civic-mindedness of the neighborhood, the four women working the polls answer in unison.

"Rendell."

4:13 p.m., William A. Barrett-Nabuurs Center, Grays Ferry

It has been slow-going here in the heart of Grays Ferry. Downstairs, at the 36th Ward, 14th Division polling place, the gang's all here; Peggy Saia, Anna Lafferty, Maureen Conran, Barbara Barrett and Sara O'Neil. The women have been working this polling spot for ages and, as always, plumes of cigarette smoke waft through the room.

"We've had about 88 people so far," says Conran. "That's about normal for us."

Conran repeats a feeling expressed by many.

"I really hope Rendell runs for president," she says. "I like him. He'll probably help Philadelphia."

"And we really need the help," says Barrett.

Meanwhile, with time on his hands, 36th Ward leader Joe Markey flips through the pages of a photo book called Philadelphia Discovered.

"Look at this," he says with an air of resignation. "Only one picture of Grays Ferry and it shows two kids fighting. The title of the picture is School Yard Fight in Grays Ferry. Even the dogs are getting into it."

4:43 p.m., Fitzsimons Middle School, North Philly

Gladys Abney, election judge of the 28th Ward, Eighth Division, is particularly animated.

"What is this election all about?" she asks. "No war. We have to get Bush out. We are working for 2004."

When asked if that means a possible challenge from Rendell, she smiles.

"Bush has to be challenged, as far as this war is concerned," she says. "The people in this country don't want a war. The world doesn't want a war."

Could Rendell provide that challenge?

"It all depends," she says. "Let's see what he does as governor."

Abney then launches into a discourse on who she'd really like to see challenge Bush.

"Clinton would make it if he ran again," she says. "If I had money, I'd pay for him to get back."

4:55 p.m., Urban Hope Training Center, Kensington

"I'm a ward leader right now, this is me," says State Rep. Angel Cruz, pointing to his outfit -- a windbreaker, jeans and Adidas sneakers. "I'm the people's candidate. I'm one of them. That tie stuff, that's only in Harrisburg," he crows.

In addition to representing the 180th District in the State House, Cruz is the leader of the Seventh Ward, comprising about a quarter of his district.

As for the allegations throughout the day of election irregularities, Cruz says, "It's a fair election. It's by the book. If [the election watchdog group] the Committee of Seventy and the D.A. want to sit in every one of my polls, they're welcome."

5 p.m., Chambersburg Middle School, Franklin County

It's almost dark and 40 degrees with a light rain falling, and voters are still streaming in to cast their ballots in Chambersburg's Second Ward.

Turnout has been unusually good for a non-presidential election year, and election workers are attributing it to several factors, including the governor's race, one contested local race and the fact that local firefighters are asking for support for a referendum that could pump big bucks into volunteer fire companies.

"Our firefighters need the support this would give them... They need the equipment it would buy," says Democrat Dick Washabaugh. "If our legislators can give themselves a pay raise, they should do this for our volunteers."

Washabaugh has spent most of the day outside a local polling place politicking for two Democratic candidates on the single-page ballot -- Rep. Jeff Coy and gubernatorial candidate Ed Rendell. Both will win, though 68 percent of Franklin County's voters buck the statewide trend that gives Rendell an early victory, voting instead for Republican Mike Fisher.

Still, Republicans here are braced for disappointment.

"Statewide, I think [Rendell] might win," Alice Uglow says.

She is dismayed, however, at the possibility that a landslide victory in the governor's race might be a springboard that would eventually put Rendell in the White House.

"Oh, God help us," she says.

5:40 p.m., Spruce Hill Community Association, West Philly

	Sign Of The Times: Trina Taylor outside the Marcus Foster Rec Center on Germantown Avenue in North Philly.

The after-work voters are starting to arrive in large numbers. While a few have brought their pets along, some are even arriving on roller skates.

"This is a light turnout compared to the primary," says 14th Division election judge Joel Auerbach. "I think this will definitely work against the Democrats because this area is very heavily Democrat. But things have really been going very smoothly. So far, we haven't had any major problems -- except one person who couldn't follow the directions for the new polling booths."

Across the room, at the station designated for the 10th Division, minority inspector Eric Tomlinson is busy jotting down the names of the voters who have just arrived.

"People really want to participate in this election," he says. "After the Florida election, things have changed. The Bush administration has done a very good job of making people passionate about their positions. The questions about the economy versus terrorism have posed some really serious questions for voters. It's not 9/11 anymore, when we were all on board. We're not all on board and now people just want to express themselves."

Tomlinson, a registered Republican, says he really doesn't trust Rendell's sincerity in this campaign, despite his overwhelming popularity.

"Ed Rendell either wants a vice-presidency or a cabinet position," he says. "This governorship is just a stepping-stone for him. If a Democrat is elected president in 2004, Rendell will give up his governorship and go right to Washington. No question about it."

6:05 p.m., Pittsburgh

Greg Coy of CN8 Comcast in Philadelphia stands on a banquet chair, eyes closed, head down, microphone in clasped hands, repeating his opening spiel about Fisher's chances as if praying for him. The two-tiered television camera perch in Fisher's party ballroom at the Westin Convention Center Hotel has forced all the reporters up on banquet chairs. From the sounds of their six news offerings, Fisher's supporters might soon have to dig their candidate a trench.

"He needs more than his vote to win the race for governor," Coy says, over what must be video of Fisher voting here earlier.

"Preliminary polls say he may not win here," Jennifer Miele tells viewers of WTAJ in Altoona from the next chair over, "though he is winning in Blair County."

"Fisher says today is what counts," intones a blue-jacketed blonde from WTAJ ABC 27 in Harrisburg. She pauses for an unprecedented 13 seconds to let a piece of film speak. It's time to answer the anchor's questions. "Very relaxed, very confident," she says.

Across the ballroom, 16 tiny tables and 64 chairs stand ready. The stage is arched with balloons. Sarah Rajca, Fisher's deputy finance director out of Harrisburg, is wrapping tiny Diet Coke bottles in red and blue tissue paper, tying the strings of helium balloons to the caps to make centerpieces. Across the state, viewers are getting the impression that Fisher may need all that gas just to give him a lift.

6:05 p.m., Sheridan School, Kensington

Republican committeeman Kenneth Mayne has the seemingly unenviable task of convincing Philadelphians to pull the lever for Mike Fisher. But Mayne claims it's not as hard as it might seem. "People know what the neighborhood was like when Rendell came in and what it's like today," he says, pointing out that even the well-kept rowhouses across the street probably go for little more than $20,000. When people credit Rendell with fixing Philadelphia, Mayne says, "it depends on what part of the city they're talking about."

6:30 p.m., Charles Weinstein Retiree Center, Center City

Something appears to have gone terribly wrong in this part of the city. St. Patrick's Church at 21st and Walnut, the usual polling place for six Center City divisions, has been turning voters away. Signs posted on the door instruct some of the folks to come here, while others are directed to Church of the Holy Trinity at 19th and Walnut. Panic hasn't set in, but rain has started falling and voters are getting frustrated.

"I think turnout would've been a lot better if people hadn't gotten so confused," says Tryna Jacobs, judge of elections for the Eighth Ward, 15th Division. "Some of the people at St. Pat's didn't want to walk so far, so they just didn't vote. They didn't do a good enough job letting people know about the changes. People just had to be strong enough to keep on walking."

Even with the confusion, though, 179 of 696 registered voters have already passed through this polling station. And despite the cold rain that's falling, people are still streaming in.

Dana Close, the division's minority inspector, says that even though the switch has been a major concern, she's spent most of her day being amused by people's reactions to the new machines.

"People have been such good sports about learning how to work the new machines," she says. "We've had a couple of people who were asking, ŒWhere's the lever?' They were looking for it so that they could get out."

Joe Ely, 44, has been working the polls since before 7 a.m. As the voting day nears an end, he confesses to his colleagues that he's never voted before.

"I never went out of my way to register," he explains, eliciting shock from his comrades. "I have no family, no property tax and voting didn't ever matter. Frankly, it still doesn't. But this time I voted because it was so easy. There were tables on the corner, so all I had to do was sign up."

Ely tells everyone that he had to go to three different polling places before he found the right one. He gets no sympathy.

"I had to walk one way, then the other, and I ended up taking a cab back to the right place which was very near my house," he laughs. "So, I paid to vote today -- but it was all worth it."

A slightly overweight young woman, wearing Birkenstocks and carrying a very wet umbrella, is breathless as she approaches the table.

"This is the third place I've been to trying to find out where I should vote," she explains. "But if you're not willing to walk an extra two blocks for democracy, what kind of American are you?"

6:40 p.m., McPherson Square Library, Kensington

A TV on low volume shows the ABC Nightly News. Poll workers pay little attention, chatting with each other between signing in voters. A correspondent gives a round-up of allegations of voting irregularities from around the nation. While Philadelphia does not make the national news, Boston is mentioned. Republicans are complaining that in heavily Latino sections of the city, Democratic operatives are escorting voters into the voting booths, supposedly to help them understand the ballot.

7 p.m., Albert Greenfield Public School, Center City

The poll watchers, a group of women who are clearly good friends are sitting around a table reviewing paperwork and noshing on Thai takeout.

"We've had more Republicans voting tonight than ever before," says Dolores Aversa. She says she was a Democrat for 35 years before switching parties in 1992. "We've had about 50 go through here tonight. Usually, if I get 10, I'm thrilled."

	Governor Switch: Ed Rendell savors the moment of victory election night, surrounded by his wife, Midge (third from left), Lt. Governor-elect Catherine Baker Knoll (second from left), D.A. Lynne Abraham (left), John Street (right) and former opponent Robert Casey Jr. (far right).

"My vote was not so much for Fisher, but against Ed," says Deb Diamond, a registered non-partisan. "In my opinion, it was a negative vote."

With nearly 250 votes cast, and approximately 500 legitimately registered voters in the division, this polling place has had a turnout of nearly 50 percent.

"Well, Ed asked Republicans for their votes," Aversa says, "and we don't know if he got them, but it looks like he might've."

7:30 p.m., Church of the Holy Trinity, Center City

Four divisions, each with two voting booths, have squeezed into the large, ornate foyer. Turnout has been heavy. "If it weren't for Rendell, maybe we wouldn't have had such a great turnout," says Annice Berger, seated at a table for the 10th Division.

"This confusion with the polling place has been horrible," says Marilyn Gray. "It could've been better advertised. This is ridiculous."

"Well, it is bad, but even Babette Josephs said, ŒAt least it's not Florida," Berger adds.

Across the room, as the polls are closing, the 11th Division is reporting that nearly 70 percent of eligible voters have been accounted for.

"It's Ed," three poll workers say almost in unison.

"He'll make a wonderful president if he gets a little bit more experience as a governor," says Tybie, a well-dressed senior wearing designer eyewear who would only give her first name. "I don't think his Jewishness is an issue."

Nita Godmilow, a judge of elections, says that the turnout was wonderful, but the expulsion from St. Pat's was a tremendous hassle.

"The rumor was that [the television show] Hack was going to be there and that it would make them a lot of money," she says. "Well, that's nice for them but it wasn't really very nice for us."

8 p.m., McPherson Square Library, Kensington

William Hanton, a uniformed security guard for the Free Library, enters the downstairs polling room and alerts election workers that "the doors are locked." Election Day is over in Pennsylvania.

8:02 p.m., Rittenhouse Square West, Center City

A large luxury bus, painted red, white and blue, rounds the corner. Ed Rendell's larger-than-life picture affixed to the side gives a good indication of who's on board. As the streetlight shines into the cruiser, Rendell, grinning from ear to ear, can be spied sitting in a seat close to the front. His smile is electric, matching the energy that has pulsed through this city all day long. Perhaps he's on his way to the Warwick Hotel, located just a few blocks away at 17th and Walnut. As the polls close, many friends and supporters are headed there to hear his much-anticipated acceptance speech. Word is that CNN has already reported that AP has named Rendell the winner.

8:15 p.m., King of Prussia

The Valley Forge Brewing Company, a large, lively brew pub and restaurant, is host to the "victory" party for Ken Krawchuk, Libertarian Party candidate for governor. The pub brews several varieties of beer in large vats by the front window, and the decor is a Revolutionary War motif. The depictions of the Continental Army on the walls are a perfect fit for the Libertarians -- a ragtag band of citizen soldiers dressed in tatters, hungry, and fighting long odds.

Krawchuk strides in with his wife Roberta and works the room. About 30 campaign workers, volunteers and Libertarian Party faithful have gathered in the back near the pool tables, and they seem genuinely happy about the election, knowing full well their guy doesn't stand a snowball's chance.

8:20 p.m., Radisson Plaza-Warwick Hotel

As campaign workers, fundraisers and other politicos filter into the second-floor ballroom, there is a buzz. CNN announces that a wire service has pronounced Ed Rendell victorious.

8:27 p.m., Urban Hope Training Center, Kensington

Poll workers from around the Seventh Ward line up behind a Cruz staffer sitting at a card table next to Cruz himself. As the workers sign forms, they are given small white envelopes. A crisp $100 bill is found inside, payment for services rendered on Election Day. As workers walk from the table they peek inside their envelopes, happy to see Ben Franklin's round face smiling back at them. Lord only knows what Ben Franklin would think of democracy in action in his hometown today.

Later, the poll workers and committee people line up for a buffet feast in a room where only an hour ago an election was taking place. As the tops are lifted off the trays of ham, spare ribs, chicken wings, meatballs and rice and beans, Cruz makes an announcement. "Listen up! Drinks are in here," he says, gesturing to two garbage cans filled with ice and Shop-Rite brand soda. The drinks will prove necessary since the hot sauce is at Caribbean strength. "Wait here and I'll tell you who won," Cruz says, deadpan, to his hungry supporters. Then he smiles and says, "I won," as laughter breaks out around the room.

8:45 p.m., Radisson Plaza-Warwick Hotel

Gene Stilp from Harrisburg walks around the increasingly packed room with a big sign. "Rendell For President in '04" it reads.

"He was a great mayor, he raised a lot of money for the Democratic Party when he was the national chairman and I think he would be great for the job," says Stilp.

9:10 p.m., IBEW Local 5 Hall, South Side of Pittsburgh

CNN declares Rendell the winner, and a few hundred supporters gathered here to cheer, hug, and drain their Yuenglings. With Rendell across the state, a line forms to congratulate, hug, or get pictures with his western Pennsylvania spokesman, Chuck Ardo. The usually gregarious -- and now slightly tipsy -- Ardo seems genuinely abashed at being Ed's stand-in.

Bear-like Allegheny County Labor Council President Jack Shea grabs a reporter around the shoulders. Shea backed Casey in the primary, but now is a believer. "We just elected a governor who's like [Pittsburgh] Mayor Tom Murphy on steroids," Shea bellows. "He's going to build this whole state!"

Up on stage, Allegheny County Democratic Committee Chairman Tom Flaherty is watching the results on computer. Rendell is beating Fisher by about 11 percentage points in the county. "Fabulous!" he gushes. "It's almost without precedent. This is Mike Fisher's home territory, his own county."

Thanks to the sweeping win, says Flaherty, Rendell "could very easily be a presidential contender or on the ticket in 2008. The sky's the limit."

10:05 p.m., Radisson Plaza-Warwick Hotel

The crowd waiting for Rendell is so tightly jammed that people closest to the stage are hardly standing on their own, squeezed off the ground by the steady flow of well-wishers streaming into the ballroom.

With the three-man string band taking a break, election night hits a new low as audience members are invited on stage to sing.

The first contestant, a twentysomething named Zack, belts out a few verses of Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On" to the groans of the crowd. Others follow, but fortunately, whoever is running the soundboard cuts the mic.

10:13 p.m., Urban Hope Training Center, Kensington

Cruz calls Republican challenger Steve Kush on his cell phone. "I beat him five to one, I killed him," Cruz says as he waits for Kush to pick up. Cruz extends an invitation for Kush to come over and dust off the leftovers, but Kush isn't eager to come by. After hanging up, Cruz says, "He's upset. You can hear it in his voice."

"I feel bad because he's not a bad guy." Pausing for a moment, Cruz adds, "But this is business."

10:15 p.m., King of Prussia

Far from conceding, Krawchuk stands before his people and declares victory.

"The results are in, the trends have come through, and we have won a victory for the Libertarian Party!" he crows. "Ed Rendell is governor, but we have set the agenda. We had them reacting to us."

By the end of the campaign, Krawchuk laughs, Ed Rendell was using Libertarian quotes and phrases, and Mike Fisher had been driven completely mad.

"Fisher was so paranoid he was calling the Secret Service to squeal on me and trying to get me out of the debates," he says to the giggling crowd. "And do you want to know why? I'll tell you why."

At this, the crowd cheers and whoops because they know Krawchuk's campaign trademark is coming, and they can't get enough of it. He takes a dollar bill out of his wallet with a flourish and tears it into strips.

"When you give the IRS a dollar, this is what you get back," he says waving the last remaining strip aloft. The crowd goes wild. After they settle down, he explains why tonight's staggering defeat is actually a victory for the Libertarians.

"We needed two percent of the winner's total to gain party status for the Libertarian Party, and we succeeded," he says. "But it ain't over. We've got these guys on the run and we're going to keep at them."

10:48 p.m., Radisson Plaza-Warwick Hotel

It is officially over. Mike Fisher makes his concession speech, but the TV is barely audible in this noisy room.

"The only reason why Fisher didn't go after Rendell on his affairs is that he had the same problem," says a businesswoman from Indiana County, who is standing near the podium.

Surrounded by political stars local and statewide, Lt. Governor-elect Catherine Baker Knoll thanks the crowd and says that they will be in good hands with Ed Rendell. Finishing her speech early, she wonders aloud what she will do for the next minute, until Rendell takes the stage.

District Attorney Lynne Abraham, perhaps the most media-savvy woman on earth, immediately slaps down the microphones, so that Knoll's lost ramblings can't be heard by the crowd.

11:03 p.m., Radisson Plaza-Warwick Hotel

Flanked by Pittsburgh Mayor Tom Murphy and Philadelphia Mayor John Street, Rendell enters triumphantly, to deafening chants of "Ed-die! Ed-die!"

"If you really love me, you'll be quiet," says the governor-elect, launching into thank-yous, extolling the joy of finally having his wife at his side (as a federal judge, she is precluded from appearing at campaign events), and a reminder that there is much work ahead and that he will be on the telephone, tomorrow, working to improve education and to attract new business to places like Erie.

As he speaks, a gob of white gunk forms on Rendell's lower left lip. Abraham, standing next to the podium, eventually motions to Rendell to wipe it away, which he does, only to have it return moments later.

No matter. The thousand or so people who have come to see Rendell love this man regardless and the noise is thunderous and the crush is fierce as Rendell finishes his speech and exits the stage.

"He would make a very good president," says one-time Rendell foe Robert Casey Jr. after Rendell has departed the ballroom for some well-deserved rest. "But he has a big job ahead of him as governor. He takes office facing a terrible deficit."

Casey knows from Pennsylvania governors who think about being president. His father, the late Bob Casey Sr., was such a man.

"He had an exploratory committee," says Jr. "But he was starting to feel ill and didn't want to run."

Marty Levine is news editor of Pittsburgh City Paper. Rich Lord is a staff writer at Pittsburgh City Paper. Vicky Taylor is a staff writer at The Gazette News in Chambersburg, Pa.