John Spratt goes one more round

Readers: I'm writing about the John Spratt-Mick Mulvaney race in South Carolina... I'll have more tonight as the results come in. For now, here's a little bit from earlier in the day. -- TT

A black Prius pulled up to Cotton Belt Elementary in York, S.C., and John Spratt got out, hunched over against the chill.

Spratt woke up at 4:45 a.m. Tuesday so he could make it to the shift change at the Bowater paper plant. He had breakfast at Ebenezer Grill in Rock Hill to meet some more voters. And now he was out at the elementary school to cast his own vote, and campaign a little bit, and try to squeeze out a win with the political world tilted against him.

He and his wife, Jane, headed for the cafeteria to vote, and he gave a quick prediction: "It's a tossup."

Of all today's political face-offs in the Carolinas, Spratt's race against Mick Mulvaney feels like the one most closely tied to the country at large -- a Democrat in trouble, a Republican riding the hot issues, a veteran politician pushed to the edge.

Spratt was first elected to Congress in South Carolina's 5th District in 1982. Ronald Reagan was in his first term and Barack Obama was a college student. Spratt made friends, and built seniority, and now he is in a powerful role -- chairman of the House Budget Committee. Over the years he gained a reputation as a fiscal conservative, as a Democrat who could work with Republicans, and as a rare congressman known more for what he does than what he says.

But Spratt voted for the TARP bailout, and he voted for the stimulus package, and he voted for Obama's health-care plan, and now he's in political trouble. Mulvaney, a Republican state senator, has made a smart and unusual argument: He admits that Spratt has been good at his job, but he says that's not the case anymore. "Those times have changed," Mulvaney says, "and it's time for us to change congressmen."

Spratt wasn't helped by a terrible TV ad run in his behalf by the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee. The ad portrayed Mulvaney as a villain who would make Social Security illegal and put your grandma in jail. No, really -- there was a picture of an elderly woman behind bars. The ad didn't come directly from his campaign, but either way, it was an un-Spratt way of doing business.

So now, as Spratt and his wife rode up to the school, they had to pass not just Mulvaney signs but red-and-yellow signs that say SACK SPRATT.

Spratt is South Carolina's last white Democrat in Congress. He's in a state that historically trends conservative, with a Republican (Nikki Haley) favored for governor, and a Republican lock (Jim DeMint) for the U.S. Senate. He's running in a year when Republicans expect to gain seats nationwide.

He's also fighting other battles. He's showing the early symptoms of Parkinson's disease; as he talks, his right hand shakes. He turned 68 on Monday, and he wears a hearing aid, and he has never been much of a grip-and-grin guy. He's earnest and he looks you in the eye when he talks. It's impressive face-to-face, but maybe it loses a little under the bright lights.

"You'll need a picture ID or your voter card," the guy at the polling place said, and everybody laughed because they all knew who it was. But he got out his ID anyway, and he and Jane cast their votes, and then he went around saying hey to everybody and asking about turnout. (At 11 a.m., in a precinct with 1,600 voters, more than 200 had voted and another 200 had voted absentee.)

"We've had good turnout so far, but I hope we get more, for democracy's sake and for my sake," he said. "It looks like it's going to be a pretty day. I remember some Election Days that looked a lot rougher than this."

Fourteen times in a row, Spratt has come away from Election Day a winner. What does he think about this time?

He looks away. Then looks back.

"I won't be surprised at anything."