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Styles define governor's race
By WES ALLISON, STEVE BOUSQUET and ADAM C. SMITH Janet Reno chugs along in her red pickup, quietly introducing herself to church congregations, retirement homes and passersby stunned to see a celebrity in their midst. Bill McBride criss-crosses Florida in a Cessna Citation, bounding before TV cameras in different parts of the state each day. The two leading Democratic candidates for governor have similar platforms, but their styles are different as night and day. Reno is old Florida; McBride, new Florida. The 64-year-old former U.S. attorney general often seems content to drive for hours to meet with 10 or 20 people. She speaks to school auditoriums full of kids too young to vote, to small gatherings of nursing home residents or to shoppers who happen to be nearby. And everywhere she goes, people greet her as a hero. McBride, 57, leads the prototypical modern campaign built on TV ads and strong organization. He campaigns with zeal, hugging elderly women, putting children on his knee, back-slapping and aw-shucking his way from from Broward County to Palatka to Pensacola. On the stump, he rarely veers from his message of investing more in public schools. He keeps it short and punchy, with one-liners almost always aimed at Gov. Jeb Bush. Campaigning Sunday in Tallahassee with the machine gunner from his Vietnam War platoon, McBride repeated his refrain that he wants to represent Republicans, Democrats and independents alike. "I'm even going to be a good governor for Jeb Bush," McBride said. "He hasn't had one in four years, and he deserves one." At first glance, Reno's low-budget homespun campaign might seem no match for McBride's campaign machine, which, since June, has closed a 30-point gap in the polls. But while McBride is the candidate of pragmatism -- touted by Democratic leaders as a the strongest match against Bush -- Reno runs as the candidate of the heart. As the race enters its final 48 hours, nobody is underestimating Reno's formidable grass roots appeal. Sunday morning, Reno received a standing ovation from hundreds of worshipers at New Hope Missionary Baptist Church in Tampa's African-American community. The Rev. T.W. Jenkins called the candidate "Sister Reno" and said, "I'm already calling you Sister Reno, so you're in good shape." The crowd cheered loudly when Jenkins noted that Reno worked for President Bill Clinton, who remains wildly popular among many black voters. "There's a rumor that African-Americans -- that's us, colored folks, Negroes -- that we're not going to vote. We want to change that," Jenkins told his flock. "After what we had to go through the last trip we need to show up," the pastor said, referring to the 2000 election. McBride benefits from more money, more organization and more support among the Democratic establishment. At each stop this weekend, large crowds greeted him when he landed at local airports. About 150 people turned out to see him Saturday morning at Stetson University in DeLand, despite the rain. "You call the main (McBride) office and say, I need some signs, I need some fliers, I need whatever, and the next day you got it," said Pat Devitt of St. Augustine, a state Democratic committeewoman who helped organize a McBride rally in Palatka Saturday. "With Reno, we call there, you get nothing." The contrasting campaign styles reflect their personalities. Reno is stiff and somewhat introverted, while McBride is outgoing and jocular. Under his perpetual gee-whiz enthusiasm and disciplined campaign, though, he remains a thoroughly unpolished candidate still getting accustomed to big-league politics. Surrounded by reporters on his plane the other day, he acknowledged that he needed to better weigh his words. "Sometimes, I'll just be talking along and I'll think, "That isn't what I meant to say,' " McBride said, bursting into laughter. Reno weighs every sentence. To reporters, she is prone to one-word answers. But she also has more meaningful discussions with voters, because she takes that time. She is happy to sit for a half-hour with two or three people to learn more about an issue. "Somehow or other, we have got to make contact at a meaningful level with the people, so we really understand what the concerns are and what they want. They have extraordinary insight," she said. In a state of 16-million people, though, many question whether even a celebrity can effectively campaign as if reaching out to one voter at a time. Reno's TV coverage has been hit-and-miss. A TV cameraman in Palm Bay showed up for what was billed as a major rally at a Ramada Inn last week. A dozen people showed up to see her. When 150 Reno supporters converged at a Daytona Beach community center, no cameras were around to capture the scene. McBride enjoys one-on-one campaigning too, but his staff mainly keeps him busy reaching large audiences. That means TV, and that means money. So fundraising remained a major push until the deadline Friday. "I'm pretty pleased with my grass roots support," McBride said, claiming 9,000 individual contributors. "I'll match that up with anybody." On Sunday, McBride also found that Reno's campaign style can pay off. At the Pensacola Airport, McBride recognized champion boxer Roy Jones Jr. The candidate giddily posed for a picture with the local celebrity and introduced him around. "This is the best fighter, pound for pound, in the world, maybe in the history of boxing," McBride said. Jones, a Democrat and Pensacola resident, confessed that he had not planned to vote in the primary. "Guess I have to vote for him now. I met him," Jones said of McBride. "He's nice, too. What's his name again?" © 2006 • All Rights Reserved • Tampa Bay Times
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From the Times state desk
From the state wire
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