Old-time politicking, from a walnut stump

COLUMBIA, Mo. -- When candidates step onto a walnut stump at the Boone County Fair, there's no room for spin doctors, speech writers or media consultants.

This is politics the way it used to be, sharing the same dusty fairgrounds air, rich with the scents of funnel cakes and pork barbecue.

This ever-changing focus group came for carnival rides, cold beer, cotton candy and livestock shows. But it was an unseasonably mild evening, the empty folding chairs were inviting and the only cost of admission was enduring politicians' politicking.

A few sat down, and wondered about the hunk of polished wood on a knoll in the grass.

"It's a stump," said Jessie Foster, widow of a county sheriff, adding for emphasis: "It's the stump."

About 18 inches in diameter, the stump's circumference is smaller than a Hula Hoop, bigger than a hubcap.

Six inches tall, it's hardly a hurdle for the politically ambitious. The real effort comes in orating from the storied stump, a homey tradition the Boone County Fair renewed this election year, when candidates for governor are spending more than $500,000 a week on mass communication through TV ads alone.

Charlie Christy brought the stump, carrying it by an attached metal handle like a solid walnut briefcase. He keeps the well-traveled wood at his house between outings. Christy became keeper of the stump when former Columbia Mayor Robert Smith turned over the heavy -- well, about 50 pounds -- responsibility.

Christy and Smith are devoted Democrats who would sooner vote for a yellow dog than a you-know-what. But they acknowledge their revered stump has Republican roots.

Both recall big rallies local Democrats held on Saturdays before general elections, when thousands would travel to the courthouse. A few decades ago, while Smith was mayor, Republicans won control of the county's governing body. Grinning, Smith says that "out of sheer jealousy about our great courthouse rallies, the Republicans ordered trees planted across the lawn to put an end to them."

"I protested mightily," recalls Smith, 80. "To no avail."

Before radio or TVStill, Smith was a good sport. At a 1971 Republican luncheon, he was presented with the polished walnut stump, with its handle and a commemorative inscription on a brass plate. The stump has been a sturdy platform for candidates ever since.

Stump speaking is from a time before radio, TV, airplanes, Web sites, tracking polls, cell phone-carrying aides -- and candidates distracted from the personal campaign touch by constant fund-raising demands to pay for ads, Web sites, polls, phones, planes and aides.

Christy buffed the stump to coffee table luster. That may have discouraged the first two speakers, who stood beside it as dusk fell Friday. Then Lara Underwood, a Democratic legislative candidate, bounded onto the stump and said she felt a surge of partisan pride.

"I thought of the great Democrats who have stood on that stump, like Boone County's own Gov. Roger Wilson, and it was just great stump karma," Underwood said.

The stumping was under way. After Underwood's sandals came cowboy boots, sneakers, dusty dress shoes, a couple of low ladies' heels, and a surrogate in flip-flops.

Jeff Hedberg, a Republican legislative candidate, declared tort reform the state's most pressing issue. Greg Casey, a retired political science professor running in a Democratic legislative primary, looked as comfortable as if he were back in the lecture hall.

One by one, candidates in a three-way Democratic sheriff's primary made their pitches. A surrogate for Democratic congressional challenger Linda Jacobsen drew puzzled looks when he said, as a criticism, that incumbent Republican Kenny Hulshof was guilty of being "tall and handsome."

Moderator Amy Miller kept reminding the speakers they were limited to five minutes each.

"Five minutes!" said state Sen. Ken Jacob, a candidate for the Democratic nomination for lieutenant governor who is known for multi-day filibusters. "It usually takes me five days to speak!"

"That poor stump," Christy said. "Listens to all that politics, and doesn't get to talk back."