Clinton’s Message Warms Crowd in Chilly Midwest

President Clinton replayed the themes of his State of the Union message Friday in this small city that has mirrored the nation’s economy, from recession and factory closings in 1992 to renewed growth in 2000.

Hundreds waited hours in 25-degree temperatures to hear him. For the White House, an outdoor address by the president in a historic town in the heartland provided appealing television visuals for maximum media “bounce” on the day after Clinton’s address to Congress. But for the people of Quincy, it was validation of their recovery from economic decline.

“The economy is pretty damn good,” said Jeff Kennedy, 38, co-owner of a small gift shop here. “I think he has done a great job. I don’t think he’s going to be a lame duck.”

Schools shut down in Quincy on Friday for the presidential visit. Local television provided continuous live coverage, following Clinton’s motorcade along rural highways lined with people waving. There were a few protesters along the way. One man on the motorcade route held up a sign: “HE LIES UNDER OATH.”

Clinton has had his political calamities and this southwestern Illinois town of 40,000 also suffered what could be called a near-death experience. In 1993, the Mississippi River flooded and a scenic wonder became an implacable enemy. The only bridge linking Quincy to nearby Missouri was washed out after a man said to be mentally unbalanced blew up a levy upstream.

Mayor Charles Scholz, a Democrat, remembers getting a call late that night. It was Clinton, aboard Air Force One, offering to help. “The next morning there was an officer from the Army Corps of Engineers at my doorstep,” said Scholz. “The Corps set up a shuttle across the river using pontoon boats.”

Surviving the flood brought Quincy together. To replace some of the large companies that had left the area, the city helped recruit smaller manufacturers, some of them in the electronics industry. In 1996, U.S. census figures showed that the stagnating population of Quincy was again growing. Though farmers in the surrounding countryside are hurting because of the decline in global crop prices, the city itself is confident about the future.

Scholz said that some of Clinton’s initiatives have helped Quincy. The town has tapped federal funds for community policing for programs to keep young people away from drugs. AmeriCorps volunteers have come to fill community service jobs. A local school, once in trouble, is now touted as an educational model.

“We now sell our quality of life when we make a pitch to bring in new employers,” said the mayor.

When Clinton arrived in Quincy’s Washington Park, in some ways, it was a uniquely receptive audience that awaited him. “As I look out here on all of you, I see fresh evidence of what I said last night: Folks, the state of our union is the strongest it has ever been, thanks to you,” Clinton declared.

He breezed through the economic statistics he cited in his speech before Congress, touching on Medicare prescription drug benefits and tax cuts, among other proposals. He called for more federal support for farmers. Then he paused.

“If you don’t remember anything else I said today, you remember how you were in the flood,” said Clinton. “And remember that when you have the chance of a lifetime to help somebody, you cannot be lulled into complacency.”

Judy Barrett, a secretary from neighboring Palmyra, Mo., thought she heard something she liked after waiting 3 1/2 hours in the cold. She said that she supports Clinton’s proposal for tax breaks for low-income families with children.

“I am impressed,” she said. “Nobody who lives here now can remember a president ever coming here. I think he’s trying to help families and I hope he gets what he wants.”

When Clinton finished, he went out to the barrier that held the crowd back and worked the length of it, shaking hands and posing for pictures. He accepted a Quincy University baseball cap. After he was done and the Secret Service had whisked him off, the people still lingered in the cold square.