Mississippi is the Magnolia State, but by many measures it is a faded flower. Its archaic constitution prohibits dueling and admonishes the Governor to sneak into the treasurer's office at night to count all the state's money. Its youngsters are not required by law to attend school. Its people have the lowest per capita annual income in the nation ($3,803). Its dominant Democratic Party has grown sluggish after 100 years of unbroken rule. But as it approaches a gubernatorial election on Nov. 4, some new breezes are blowing on the old magnolia. Two sometime mavericks are locked in a close race, and for the first time in memory the Democrat is no shoo-in. TIME Correspondent Jack White reports:
The two candidates, Democrat Cliff Finch and Republican Gil Carmichael, are relative newcomers who rose by challenging the power of Senator James O. Eastland, the state's most potent pol. Lawyer Finch, a former state legislator from Batesville, a sleepy farm town, won the Democratic nomination by upsetting Eastland's candidate, Lieutenant Governor William Winter, with a record 58% of the vote in the August primary runoff; it was the first time that Eastland had backed a loser.
Black Vote. Carmichael, a wealthy Volkswagen dealer from the lively business center of Meridian, gained attention by winning an unprecedented 39% of the vote in the 1972 race for Eastland's Senate seat. In that campaign Carmichael was snubbed by Richard Nixon, who sent Spiro Agnew to appear with Eastland during visits to Mississippi. The cold shoulders helped Carmichael's reputation as an "independent Republican," a useful image in a state where less than 10% of the 1.1 million voters think of themselves as belonging to the G.O.P.
The two candidates have little in common beyond their age—both are 48—and their eager wooing of the black vote, which could be a key to victory. In a state where segregation was once firmly rooted and blacks were excluded from politics and the polls, neither candidate has uttered a word that could be construed as racist. On the contrary, both are proudly proclaiming the endorsements they have received from black political leaders in Mississippi.
Finch, who last year earned $150,000, has run a populist-tinged "workingman's campaign" that puts a premium on sincerity and handshaking. Since spring he has spent one day a week working at such jobs as stamping prices on groceries and driving bulldozers. Says he: "When I sit down and open up my lunch box with that man or that woman who has been working side by side with me, sweating just like me, they know that I am sincere."
Yet the vagueness of Finch's proposals for attracting industry to Mississippi by showing it off to "the 25 top executives" has given some of his supporters second thoughts. "He doesn't seem to have a definite program you can judge," complains Patt Derian, a leader of the Mississippi Democrats' liberal wing. Moreover, Finch has turned off much of the state's conservative press by refusing to hold press conferences and declining to appear on TV panels unless certain "obnoxious" reporters are kept off.