The Inside Story: How We Spread Fred

by Joyce Marcel

You may have read about our primary -- the Associated Press covered it, as did National Public Radio and a host of other newspapers. It was all about Fred.

Fred Tuttle is a 79-year-old farmer from Tunbridge, Vt., who starred in a very fine little independent comedy a few years ago called "Man With A Plan." The film, written and directed by John O'Brien, 35, Fred's neighbor, has Fred seeking a seat in Congress because he's tired of being poor; politicians are well-paid, he says, and he wants a ride on the gravy train. His motto is "I've spent my whole life in the barn; now I want to be in the House." On his manure spreader he has a bumper sticker that says: "Spread Fred."

The delightful film is now on video, so you might be able to find it in a store near you. You should also be able to see it on public television this fall, because O'Brien found a clever way of drumming up the publicity he needed to catch PBS's attention: when Jack McMullen, a Massachusetts millionaire, moved back to Vermont last year and decided to run for the Senate seat of Democrat incumbent Patrick Leahy, O'Brien ran Fred against him.

The issue became "flatlanders against Vermonters," flatlanders being an unkind word for people who live in Vermont but aren't born here. Think "carpetbagger." I'm a flatlander, even though I've lived here for 12 years. Some people say it takes a generation or two for the flatlander-ness to wear off; there's an old Vermont saying that goes, "Just because the cat gave birth in the oven doesn't make them biscuits."

The national press made a big thing out of the flatlander issue, but it was really beside the point. The point was that McMullen was trying to buy the election -- he had vowed to finance his campaign with about $300,000 of his own money, and in the end, that's about what he spent.

That's still cheap compared to other states, where it takes a minimum of $5 million to run for the Senate. But McMullen should have remembered the fate of Michael Huffington of California, who spent over $30 million back in 1994 trying get elected to the Senate, and still got beat. If there's one thing people really hate in politics, it's politicians who try to buy elections.

Fred promised to spend $16 on his campaign, but he reneged when he had to rent portable toilets for his nickel-a-plate dinner and went about $200 over budget.

It's a fact that from the end of the Civil War to 1960, more people left Vermont than moved into it. But in the last 30 years, people have discovered that Vermont matters, because it's rural and determined to remain that way, community-oriented, small, full of real values, and user-friendly.

It's still a place where you can call the State House after hours and Gov. Howard Dean might pick up the phone. Where the Legislature is still part-time, and elected officials have to do other things to earn a living. Most towns are still governed by Town Meeting, where you still have a direct say in the affairs of your town. There's a close connection and greater sense of community here than in a lot of other places.

Usually, Vermont politics are benign -- people here know their elected officials and usually vote for the better person, not for the party line. But in the past few years, national Republican money has been coming up here and flooding us with negative campaign tactics and right-wing social issues; they don't sit right with most Vermonters.

For example, in the 1996 campaign, the Republican National Committee gave money to a woman who was running against Sanders. She hired a private eye to dig up some dirt on his first marriage, but Sanders' ex-wife called and warned him. He broke the story to the press, and the woman was soundly beaten in the general election.

Vermont has an open primary -- it doesn't require an up-front party affiliation. When you get to the polls, they give you a large perforated sheet with the nominees of the three parties (Republican, Democrat, and this year, Grassroots). Well, come primary day, many people who normally vote the Democratic ticket just tore off the Republican third and voted on that.

Fred was the reason, but there was another, Peter Diamondstone. He's a brilliant Brattleboro radical who takes the role of political gadfly seriously, and who most years runs on the left-wing Liberty Union Party ticket. This year, he also found his way to the Republican ticket, because Liberty Union didn't win a large enough percentage of the vote in 1996 to keep its major party status. Peter ran against two Republicans for the Congressional seat now occupied by our beloved Socialist, Bernie Sanders.

You want a definition of gadfly? Diamondstone once challenged a local planning law by planting a tasteful grouping of ancient car wrecks on his lawn -- on a main street in Brattleboro -- where they have been happily rusting ever since.

People in town get apoplectic just hearing his name; he's one of those people who is always right in what he says about the hypocrisies of our society, but no one wants to hear it. One of his recent campaigns was to remind us all that for years, innocent Iraqi men, women and children have been dying from starvation and lack of medicines because of the American blockade against Saddam Hussein.

Actions speak louder than words, of course, but to act on Diamondstone's words, one must throw one's shoulder against the entire momentum of the racing world and make it change its course. It's such a difficult thing to do that it is, of course, easier to heap scorn on him and pretend he's just a crank. Which, of course, he also is.

So with one ballot, I was able to vote for Fred Tuttle, Peter Diamondstone, and jiggle the handle on the Republicans. It was a wonderful feeling.

Anyway, Fred won by a 55-45 margin. He won't beat Leahy -- even Fred thinks Leahy is a fine senator -- but he'll stay in the race. Diamondstone got 18 percent of the vote, a respectable showing, but only good for third in a three-person race. And once again, the contrariness of Vermonters was shown to the world. Big money politics doesn't work here and it's still possible for outsiders to make an impact in politics.

I like what John Kenneth Galbraith, who spends his summers in Vermont, says about politics here: Vermont is the only state that sends a Democrat, a Republican and a Socialist to Congress and they all vote the same way.