Acting Ornery in New Hampshire

(3 of 3)

Mondale had such faith in his organization that he left it to operate on its own, abandoning New Hampshire two days before the vote to stump in neighboring primary states. As Mondale aides later acknowledged, the early exit was a blunder. It gave the impression that the front runner was so sure of success that he could let his minions mop up while he moved on to the next event. Hart, meanwhile, was shaking every New Hampshire hand in sight. On Monday he drew such a huge entourage of television crews on Elm Street, the main drag of Manchester, that pedestrians were forced to cross the street to avoid the crush. Earlier, in Concord, he drew hundreds of enthusiastic supporters to an outdoor rally in Eagle Square Mall.

Mondale said later that "the last four or five days, I could feel something happen." But not until Sunday night, when the ABC-Washington Post poll put Mondale and Hart in a dead heat, did the Mondale dreadnought realize it was sinking. "We were 'pretty surprised," said one top aide. "It happened in 48 hours. It was a trend we couldn't get hold of." As worried aides analyzed the plummeting polls, they began praying for clear weather. A snowstorm would keep home elderly voters and complacent party regulars, Mondale's core constituency.

At 1:44 a.m. on primary day, soon after the first ballots had been cast in Dixville Notch, flakes began to fall. By dawn a swirling nor'easter was repainting the state white after an unseasonable two-week thaw.. The turnout (101,129, or 75.8%) was surprisingly large, but it was a Hart crowd: half were under 40, and 40% were independents who went for Hart by 2 to 1. Mondale did carry the over-60 age group, but its turnout was about 10% lower than in the last primary. The ever efficient Mondale organization dispatched 30 cars in Manchester alone and even two snowmobiles in Claremont to transport voters to the polls. Said Hart's Shaheen:

"We think the Mondale people turned out some of our vote."

As the returns came in Tuesday night, the Hart crowd laughed and wept while a rockabilly band played in a Manchester restaurant. Months earlier, when victory seemed unlikely, the campaign had rented a banquet room that could be partitioned in case the crowd was small. But 500 people, a fifth of them journalists, jammed it beyond capacity. Hart staffers chatted over the din on newly acquired walkie-talkies, the first sign that the campaign had moved upscale. "I guess we're for real now, huh?" said a staffer, clutching his walkie-talkie.

The happy Hart aides recalled that in the darkest days of 1983, when the campaign was broke, the press absent and Hart all too aloof, the candidate had assured them, "I'll peak at the right time. I'll be good in '84." Said slightly awed Press Aide Steve Morrison: "Everything he said would happen has happened." So far, at least. —By Evan Thomas. Reported by Sam Allis with Mondale and Richard Hornik/Manchester