Residents say they vote for jobs, not a specific party
MARTINS FERRY, Ohio — They’re proud of their old heroes in the towns along the Ohio River as it bends south, forming the border between Ohio and West Virginia.
Stretches of Rt. 7 are named for Steubenville native Dean Martin and Pirates baseball legend Bill Mazeroski, who grew up in eastern Ohio. The Bridgeport High School gym is named for basketball great John Havlicek. And, as you turn off Rt. 7 and into Mingo Junction, there’s a sign commemorating favorite son Rob Parissi, who wrote and performed the 1976 superhit “Play That Funky Music” with the group Wild Cherry.
There seems to be less to get excited about these days in the towns huddled between the high hills and the river.
Giant steel mills hulk along the riverfront, vacant or nearly so. As one local man puts it, they once were the backbone of the regional economy. But now they’re part of an industry that has declined more than 35 percent since 2000.
As the region has suffered, political preferences have shifted.
Belmont and Jefferson counties broke comfortably for Democrat Al Gore in 2000. By 2008, Belmont went for Barack Obama, but just by 2 percentage points. Jefferson split between the Democrat and Republican John McCain, at 49 percent apiece.
By last year, the swing seemed complete. Republican Donald Trump blasted Hillary Clinton in both counties with more than 65 percent of the vote. Democrats, it seemed, no longer spoke to distressed working people.
But with Trump feuding with his own party and seemingly unable to pass big legislation,
it seems unlikely that quick relief is coming to eastern Ohio’s river valley — if that’s even possible for an area caught in the teeth of structural economic change.
So Ohio Democrats have been scrambling to make themselves relevant again to voters who feel left behind by the 21st century economy.
Toward that end, the party kicked off the 2018 gubernatorial campaign with a debate Tuesday in Martins Ferry.
“I could not have thought of a better place (to hold the first gubernatorial debate) than eastern Ohio,” party Chairman David Pepper said in an interview before the debate. “It’s a place that’s been left out and overlooked by the state for a long time.”
He and the Democratic candidates say suffering in the region is at least partly the result of an era of Republican rule in Columbus, which has produced a $1 billion annual tax cut weighted heavily toward the rich while slashing funds flowing to local governments almost in half since 2008, to just $382 million.
“Not only is the state not helping them, they’re taking money away from them and making it harder,” Pepper said.
Whether his arguments can gain traction with voters in the region is an open question.
Some members of the traditional Democratic coalition are caught between the party’s environmental policies and their own economic imperatives.
Jim Coppa, 60, drove down to Martins Ferry on Tuesday from the Sammis Power Plant upriver in Stratton to see what the candidates had to say.
As secretary of Local 457 of the Utility Workers of America, he Coppa appreciates the Democrats’ pro-union stand. But as an employee of a coal-fired electricity plant, Coppa is loath to see the party turn away from the source of his and other union members’ employment.
“I’m coming down to see if (the candidates) have an interest in keeping coal,” said Coppa, 60, who didn’t vote for Trump, but said, “At least he isn’t anti-coal.”
Some others in the area were alienated from the Democratic coalition for different reasons. Once a Democrat, Virginia Dombrowski said it would be all but impossible for the party to regain support.
“I’m pro-life,” she said as she stood outside the offices of the Catholic Diocese of Steubenville.
Dombrowski finds the Democratic Party’s abortion-rights stance anathema. Otherwise, her vote might be winnable.
She said she supports Ohio Gov. John Kasich, but would not label herself a Republican. As for Trump, all she would say was, “I pray for him. I think he needs prayer.”
To win over others, the Democratic message will have to penetrate right-wing radio and TV.
As she waited outside a Martins Ferry discount store for a bus to take her back to her governmentsubsidized apartment, Barbara Behanna, 61, said she’s had no luck landing a part-time job washing dishes or doing custodial work.
Referring to people like herself, she said, “These people don’t want to be on welfare and food stamps. They want work.”
When asked if she would consider voting Democratic, Behanna, a Trump supporter, said, “Probably not. They would have to be extremely convincing.”
She criticized Hillary Clinton and asked how anyone could take anything Democrats say seriously.
Asked where she gets her news, Behanna Behanna listed Fox TV host Sean Hannity, radio host Rush Limbaugh and TV and radio host Glenn Beck, all three right-wing entertainers known for an often questionable relationship with the facts.
“Their whole job is researching what happens in the world, so you can count on what they say being accurate,” she said.
Some votes in the area seem winnable by Democrats and Republicans.
Richard Loew, 52, of Shadyside, voted for Obama and then he voted for Trump. He’s for anybody who can help, he said. “In times like these, Democrat and Republican and independent — doesn’t matter anymore,” Loew said.
Others in the area are resentful that outsiders seem to think everybody’s gone over to Trump.
Beth Young, 31, of Martins Ferry, said decent jobs are what the area needs and Loew that Trump is woefully unequipped to bring them about.
“He’s a clown,” she said, adding that many people in her community feel the same way.
Back up the river in Mingo Junction, people insist they just need something. Folks are hopeful that the giant Mingo Junction Steel Works is firing back up after being shuttered for eight years.
But any benefits haven’t yet shown themselves on Commercial Street, the main drag in front of the mill. The majority of buildings seem vacant and residents say watering holes are the village’s only thriving businesses.
“We’ve got more bars than anything here,” said Gary Allen, an unemployed 59-year-old. “There’s nothing here to do, really. We’ve got to wake up every day and find something to do.” Young