Nebraska typifies cultural divide on display in November election

OMAHA, NEB. >> - I’ll take the #bluewave for $300.

That’s the powerful title for the fundraiser being held here in an Irish pub just down the street from Boys Town. The centerpiece of the evening is a barroom game of “Jeopardy,” played by three onetime Omaha-area “Jeopardy” contestants, and the beneficiary, a Democratic challenger in a House district that Donald J. Trump barely carried two years ago, is at a table explaining why she favors a Medicare-for-all health plan.

“The amount of money families are paying for health care is astronomical,” Kara Eastman, who heads a local nonprofit, is telling Bill Warzak, a retired child psychologist.

Eastman, 46, who is trying to defeat GOP Rep. Don Bacon, is campaigning this evening in the western fringes of Omaha but is on the front line of next month’s midterm elections. In 2016, Hillary Clinton took only a third of the Nebraska vote, winning only two of the 93 counties in this state. One of them was here in Douglas County.

That makes this contest — a freshman Republican and a novice challenger in a district skeptical of abortion restrictions and broad gun rights — a key test of the Republicans’ effort to keep the House and of the Democrats’ drive to deliver a message of repudiation to the president.

“If the blue wave is big enough — if it is real and national — she gets carried along,” says former Democratic Rep. John J. Cavanaugh, who represented this district from 1977 to 1981.

Omaha and the state that stretches from the Missouri River toward Colorado once typified the region that John Gunther described, in his magisterial 1947 survey of the country, as “America uncontaminated,” distinguished by “its actual middleness, not only in geography ... but in its averageness, its typicalness.”

Much of that remains true, along with this observation: “Here sounds the most natural note in the nation.”

If that natural note rings in a blue wave, there is trouble for Trump.

Bacon, the incumbent, is an Air Force brigadier general with a master’s degree from the National War College, potent credentials in an area with many voters working at Offutt Air Force Base, headquarters of the U.S. Strategic Command and located just outside the district.

Bacon, 55, has four times as much money at his disposal, with more to come from business groups appreciative of his support for the Trump tax cuts.

“These are conservative Republicans, but not as conservative as they are in central or western Nebraska,” says Paul Landow, a political scientist at the University of Nebraska’s Omaha campus. “They’re bigcity types. These are white-collar people, middle managers, mainstream Republicans. The prevailing notion is that they don’t like Trump’s tactics and personality, but they like that he’s shaking things up.”

So, if here sounds the most natural note in the nation, the nation awaits its Election Day cry.

Bacon’s advantage is his incumbency and his alliance with the president. Eastman’s advantage is her outsider status and her opposition to the president. He was the only Republican in the country to defeat a Democratic incumbent two years ago. She has the usual Democratic (yet formidable) endorsements of environmental and labor groups. He was the commander at Offutt Air Force Base. She started the Omaha Healthy Kids Alliance and counts among her supporters some 4,000 families her nonprofit has served. He’s an established figure with establishment credentials. She and her supporters have knocked on more than 100,000 doors since the campaign began.

The two couldn’t project more different profiles. They are the two sides of the partisan and cultural divides. They are the November election writ large.