The Mahoning Valley

October 11, 2008

Alex Webb wanders through an emotionally blue Ohio.

The Mahoning Valley, Ohio

It didn’t take me long to realize that there is a lot of dissatisfaction in Ohio. Often, when I arrive at a rental car agency in a U.S. airport, I am greeted by a perky promoter of the region. Not so in Akron. When I revealed that I was a photographer, the rental car agent smiled ever so slightly and said with a hint of sarcasm, “You should get your boss to send you somewhere else next time.”

More often than not, I’ve been greeted by complaints and sardonic commentary as I have wandered the streets of Ohio. Sometimes the statements, like that of the rental car agent, were darkly humorous: the fellow in the taxi dispatcher’s office who asked if he could come back to New York with me.

Other complaints, however, struck a note of weary resignation: a woman in a bar who said, in response to my comment about Ohio being a swing state, “They only remember us every four years.” Even the middle-aged women attending the “Girls Go Glam” workshop at the resplendent public library in Poland, Ohio, one of Youngstown's better-off neighbors, were upset at the national media’s refusal to show Youngstown’s positive side. And the local newspaper, The Vindicator, displayed a front page article about city officials' anger at the depiction of Youngstown in a Rolling Stone article. One thing the Mahoning Valley seems to have plenty of is political anger.

Sometimes it's about local issues – the corruption of the towing industry in Youngstown or the fact that school buses in Warren no longer visit all neighborhoods. But it’s also about the national scene: the man who arrived at the electoral headquarters in Youngstown in a state of fury, fulminating against the possibility that Obama would appoint Supreme Court justices who would uphold “abortion, gays, and lesbians.” Again and again I kept hearing disgust at politicians: “They just lie about each other”; “I don't like either of them”; “We need someone who is not a politician.” Oddly enough, some of the people who seemed to have the most to be upset about, the homeless living in the mission near the edge of downtown Youngstown, hardly complained at all.

In the end, what I’ve found most intriguing – and perplexing – is how these various concerns and anxieties play out with the region’s undecided voters. Outside the electoral headquarters in Youngstown, I spoke with a woman clad head to toe in stars and stripes. “I’m a registered Democrat,” she said. “I’m not much on the two candidates. I liked Romney.” I guess the expression on my face gave away my surprise. She went on: “I really, really liked Edwards.” Who knows who she’ll vote for in November.