Democrats Find a Boy’s Best Friend Is Still His Mom : My Son, the Candidate: Political Labor of Love

Loreen Gephardt, 79, whose son Dick, the congressman from Missouri, is seeking the Democratic nomination for President, moved from St. Louis to a temporary apartment in Iowa to be close to the campaign and to make sure her boy gets enough sleep and eats regularly.

Ruth Simon, 80, whose son Paul, the senator from Illinois, is seeking the Democratic nomination for President, has already called and written every one of the 869 Lutheran pastors in Iowa, urging them to support her boy. Now she’s busy contacting Lutheran clergy in neighboring states.

Pauline Gore, 75, whose son Al, the senator from Tennessee, is seeking the Democratic nomination for President, is not above a practical joke or two if she thinks it will help get her boy into the White House.

Euterpe Dukakis, 84, whose son Michael, the governor of Massachusetts, is seeking the Democratic nomination for President, made certain her boy got on the New Hampshire ballot--she personally filed his nomination petitions.

Looking Out for Sons

The road to the White House this year is crowded with Democratic mothers looking out for their sons, doing their best to push their boys through the Oval Office door and onto the political center stage.

“I just don’t know why everybody can’t see the honesty and sincerity coming from within him,” says Mother Gephardt of her son, “why everybody can’t know how good he is inside and out.”

“I think Al is the best candidate,” says Mother Gore. “I know how hard he works and the grasp he has of the issues and I know the experiences he has had and his capacity for work and for analyzing and solving problems. Now, that sounds like a mother, doesn’t it?”

Like their aspiring progeny, the aspiring moms are busy crisscrossing the country speaking and shaking hands, answering questions and cultivating journalists. There seems to be almost nothing they won’t do to help their sons.

For example, in Richmond, Va., Mrs. Gore confronted an elderly gentleman in an elevator who called her an “old woman”: “I’ll forgive you if you vote for my son.” The man resisted, claiming that he hadn’t voted for some years. “At least wear his button on your coat,” she pleaded. The man was steadfast.

But when he left the elevator, pinned to the back of his coat like a “kick me” sign was a Gore for President button.

Warned Him

“I did warn him,” recalls Mrs. Gore. “I did tell him that we do play tricks on people sometimes. I warned him three times.”

Loreen Gephardt became disenchanted with the way her son’s paid Washington staff was scheduling his appearances and didn’t hesitate to tell them--in writing.

“He was tired and couldn’t operate effectively,” says Mrs. Gephardt. “I thought they should give him a little more down time, more time to eat properly. Don’t they know a human being can only stand so much . . . . They were making him into a robot.”

Her advice received “respectful consideration,” a campaign aide said.

“My name is Ruth Simon, my husband Martin was a Lutheran pastor until he died and my son Arthur is also a Lutheran pastor . . . and the reason I am calling is for my other son, Paul, who is running for President,” Mother Simon says in the scores of phone calls she makes daily.

Originally she planned to drive throughout Iowa campaigning for her son just as she did in Illinois in 1984 when he ran for the U.S. Senate in that state. But a mid-December fall that fractured her wrist and bruised several ribs has kept Mrs. Simon off the road and on the phone.

“I’ve met Mrs. Gephardt and Mrs. Dukakis,” says Mrs. Gore, “and we’ve commiserated with one another. We’re all on the same course. It’s a labor of love for our sons.”

Mothers and the presidency go together like campaigns and bumper stickers.

Particularly Close

Presidents Franklin D. Roosevelt, Harry S. Truman, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson, Richard M. Nixon and Jimmy Carter all had particularly close relationships with their mothers, say some historians and psychologists.

When the young F.D.R. went off to study at Harvard, his mother Sara went along with him, taking an apartment nearby. Truman used to both call and write his mother weekly from the White House. And Carter’s mother, Miss Lillian, became a national figure in her own right, speaking out on major issues and on her son’s behalf.

Mothers in the White House are largely a 20th-Century phenomenon linked to advances in mass media, says University of Chicago historian Barry D. Karl.

“At the turn of the century when . . . higher speed printing presses made (newspaper and magazine) rotogravure possible and high speed film made flash photography possible, politicians quickly saw the utility of presenting themselves as family men and bringing around images of family life,” says historian Karl. Television has accelerated the trend.

Today, when they are healthy and able, they are as ubiquitous as the campaign button.

“She’s my secret weapon,” Rep. Gephardt says of his mother’s involvement in the campaign.

“God expects us, whatever job we have, to really work at it,” says Mrs. Simon.

“I’ve always taken the position with my children that if they’re grown up, they’re grown up,” says Mrs. Gore. “If they don’t take their vitamins, too bad. Of course, I would like them to.”

Staff writer David Lauter in Washington contributed to this story.