Crashing the Grand Old Party

For the reporter, McKenna demonstrates her knowledge of the area, explaining, "Deer Park is increasingly Republican."

Lawther laughs: "Deer Park is increasingly conservative." The difference, they both know, is significant.

He reminisces for a moment. Deer Park, he says, used to be full of Democrats, a union stronghold, back in the days when unions were mighty and conservative Democrats bestrode the earth. Back in '61, Lawton remembers, Deer Park school buses wouldn't cross a picket line.

McKenna can't imagine the scene. She laughs, "I wasn't here in '61."
"Carpetbagger," Lawton retorts.
In front of a display of safety goggles and hard hats, the two pose for a campaign photo. McKenna once again brings up her experience as a small businesswoman. From 1989 to 1993, she and her husband ran McKenna & Company, a ten-person financial-services group. After she left to go into politics, her husband sold the company to Price Waterhouse.

Lawton shakes his head. "See," he says, "out here, people don't consider that a small business. A small business is when you sell something out of your house."

By the exit, McKenna poses for one last photo -- this one with the store's mascot, a mannequin dressed as a construction worker. "One of our fossilized customers," Lawton jokes.

McKenna smiles. To win this election, she needs all the fossils she can get.