It's a Clash of the Clans

Suddenly they are everywhere, a blitzkrieg of attractive and affable--and politically acute--wives and sons and daughters-in-law, plus an occasional daughter, brother or aunt, all barnstorming the country like seasoned pros, living out of suitcases, up at 5:30 a.m. and to bed at midnight, addressing the local Kiwanis Club and staging rousing rallies in shopping centers, the gallant families of Jimmy Carter and Jerry Ford, doing their bit to win the election for dear old Dad.

While the propriety of using one's kith and kin in such a fashion can be debated (see TIME ESSAY), there is no doubt that the cheerfully assorted Carters and Fords have enlivened the 1976 race for the White House. "They provide a spark," says Chuck Parrish, Carter's coordinator in the swing state of Texas. "They bring the excitement of the national campaign down to the local level." Jack Ford, the President's 24-year-old son, might also be speaking for the Carter children when he says, "Since the character of the candidate is so important in this campaign, those of us in the family have some important impressions to convey about him."

The members of the President's family of fine Fords do pretty much what they want and go pretty much where they choose. Steve Ford, 20, who wants to be a rancher when he graduates from California State Polytechnic University, is touring scenic backwaters of the Far West with his boyhood friend Kevin Kennedy in a 27-ft. motor home, undismayed by the fact that the bears may outnumber the voters in some of these districts. Last week Steve pulled up in front of the Home Cafe in Dupuyer, Mont. (pop. less than 100), and before his order of pancakes had arrived found himself surrounded by ranchers, the local G.O.P. committeeman and the sheriff, who was wearing camouflage coveralls and carrying six arrows in his hip pocket--he was going deer hunting. Steve talked cattle and politics. Before he left, a tall man introduced himself: "I'm an Indian, and I hate to say it but I'm voting for Carter." That off his chest, he walked out. Later Steve said, "If we win, I'll be happy for my father. If we lose, I get my father back again. Either way, the family will be a winner."

Susan Ford, 19, does not like--or excel in--public speaking, and can be pouty about campaigning, but she is fond of parades. So, smiling like a homecoming queen, Susan is dispatched to march down Main Streets at the first roll of a drum. Mike Ford, 26, married and a divinity student at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary in South Hamilton, Mass., last week announced that he had decided to get involved in the campaign because it was his Christian duty to do so. Opening the Ford headquarters in Augusta, Me., Mike graciously dismissed the criticism of Carter's lust-in-his-heart remarks in Playboy. "It was just an honest expression of his human nature," said he, adding that the interview was not a valid campaign issue.

The most active and effective of the Ford children by far is Jack, who not only looks like a cowboy but smokes Marlboros. Tall (6 ft.), blond, ruggedly handsome and beguilingly informal, he flew off on a four-day tour of the Midwest last week carrying a green knapsack decorated with a KEEP BETTY IN THE WHITE HOUSE button. People often confuse the Ford sons and push their way up to Jack to say, "Gee, Mike," or "Gee, Steve, can I have your autograph?" Rather than embarrass anybody, Jack signs the appropriate name. One of Jack's recurring problems is how to dodge the blind dates that his hosts eagerly set up with their daughters. While visiting St. Mary's College in Indiana last week, Jack was mobbed and soundly bussed by screaming coeds.

Poised Beauty. Unfortunately for the President, one of the best campaigners in the family has been handicapped this fall. Betty Ford has tired easily since her mastectomy two years ago (she is in the final stages of receiving chemotherapy), and she suffers from painful osteoarthritis in the left side of her neck and shoulder. For a short period, she can still dazzle with one of the brightest smiles in American politics; but when she does venture onto the hustings, Ford's staffers are under strict instructions to see that she is not required to speak or stand for any period of time.

The Republicans are also being helped by Elizabeth Dole, the wife of Senator Robert Dole, Ford's caustically witty running mate. A former member of the Federal Trade Commission, Liddy Dole is a poised beauty from North Carolina who manages to soften her husband's gunfighter image. "She's part of our Southern strategy," says Dole proudly. Similarly, Joan Mondale, the vivacious and savvy wife of Senator Walter Mondale, is brightening the Democratic ticket, although she got off to a shocking start. Asked by a television reporter on the West Coast to explain the difference between Watergate and the sex scandals of Democratic Congressman Wayne Hays, Mrs. Mondale said: "The issue is Watergate or waterbed. The Democrats do it to their secretaries, but the Republicans do it to the country." Today she hides her head in her hands when asked about the slip and says, "It was totally out of character for me--it was naughty."

Clan Carter not only is bigger than the Ford family--besides Jimmy and Rosalynn, nine of its members are campaigning hard--but it is organized with the cold efficiency and zeal for battle that marks the campaign of the candidate himself. Rosalynn Carter is so effective that she roams the country on her own, a kind of political free safety (see box); but the tours of the rest of the Carter children, in-laws, and various relatives are coordinated by a special six-man staff working with the closely guarded "situation room" in Atlanta. Itineraries are geared to big events and media markets, with special attention given to key states like Illinois, Ohio, California and Pennsylvania. The Carters--not including Jimmy and Rosalynn--have hit as many as 127 cities and 35 states in one week.

James Earl Carter III, 26, known as "Chip," was out in front of the main gate at the Bell Helicopter plant in Hurst, Texas, grinning at the workers and shaking hands, being careful to squeeze a mite harder than the other person--an old pol's trick to ease the wear and tear on himself. "Hi, Chip," one worker nodded pleasantly. "I heard you was gonna be here." Replied Carter: "We sure do need your help in November." Chip has been home only six times for brief visits during the past year, but, unlike his father, he still finds a lot to laugh about in politics. When a young woman in Hurst knelt to photograph his Jimmy Carter belt buckle. Chip jumped back in mock alarm. Said he: "I thought you were lusting after my belt buckle." The best Carter campaigner, excluding Mom and Dad, Chip will have stumped in 48 states by Election Day. Twice he flunked speech courses in college. He boasts: "I could pass now."

Hurried Responses. While Chip was working California, Texas, Missouri and Ohio during the past week, his wife Caron, 25, who has a master's degree in early-childhood education, was touring Tennessee, Oklahoma and Kansas, even though she is expecting her first child in February. "I feel good and I want to do my part," she says, "but the campaign pulls one way and my doctor the other." She relishes the action, and after 18 months at it still cannot believe that she would ever be "out talking to hundreds of people about foreign policy."

Meanwhile, Jeff Carter, 24, the shiest of the boys, was rocketing around Oklahoma, where his boots-and-jeans style was especially appreciated. "At first I despised it," he confesses, "havin' to go up to people and try to talk to them. Now they come up to me." When he is asked what he does on the hustings, Jeff replies: "I give speeches.I eat cookies. I cut ribbons."

Meanwhile, back East in Wall Street, a bullhorn blared: "Come meet Jack Carter, son of Jimmy Carter, the next President of the United States." Walking with a small entourage, Jack, 29, got friendly if hurried responses from passers-by in the financial district, not the most popular area to discuss his father's tax views.

The redoubtable Miss Lillian, Carter's 78-year-old mother, does not go on the road much these days, although she does hold court for the press in Plains. But her younger sister, Emily Dolvin, the widow of an insurance man, has turned out to be the secret weapon of the Carter campaign--a tiny, stylishly dressed, white-haired dynamo. After she whipped through Maine, Senator Edmund Muskie called Carter to say in awe: "Everywhere I go, your Aunt Sissy is there." She is in particular demand on the senior-citizen circuit, but she delights all audiences, hauling her own bags and declaring in a soft, honeyed drawl: "Hi, I'm Jimmy Carter's Aunt Sissy. I hope you'll vote for my boy for President."

In La Crosse, Wis., Aunt Sissy took part in an event that epitomizes the efforts being made by the members of both the Ford and Carter families to get their man home first on election day. To gain a few local headlines that might help Nephew Jimmy along the way, Aunt Sissy sat down some 800 miles from home and--with great eclat--milked her first cow.

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