CARTER!

So the Carter era begins.

New faces and new accents in Washington; a cast of characters far more "different" than a change of Administration usually brings; perhaps fresh directions for the nation. All this was greeted by the country in an oddly subdued mood. There were considerable expectations, some apprehension and, still, a rather dazed sense of having gone through one of the most remarkable campaigns in modern American history.

The transition was dramatized on the day after the election in a memorably moving appearance by the barely defeated Gerald Ford, Wife Betty and their children in the White House press room. His voice a hoarse rasp from his final, valiant campaign drive, the President asked Betty to read the "Dear Jimmy" telegram that he had sent that morning to Winner Carter. As he listened, the muscles of his face tensely straining, he plainly struggled to control himself. Betty, also showing the weight of loss, smiled wanly and struggled to hold back tears, almost stifling the first mention of "President-elect Carter." Slowly, very slowly, she recited Ford's telegram: "We must now put the divisions of the campaign behind us and unite the country once again. I congratulate you on your victory. You have my complete and wholehearted support. May God bless you and your family." Then Ford walked into the group of reporters to thank them for their help to him and his family in his two years as President. Said he of the campaign: "Well, we came from way back. Nobody can say we didn't give it a helluva try."

Ford had tried so hard that Jimmy Carter's narrowly triumphant Election Night was a haunting, suspenseful replica of his entire amazing, tortuous drive for the presidency. Just as he had broken out of the Democratic pack in the primary elections to win his party's nomination and hold a seemingly insurmountable 33-point advantage over Ford in the opinion polls last July, Carter was propelled into an early election-tabulation lead by the regional pride of his nearly solid native South. Then he seized two large states that had seemed doubtful: Texas and Pennsylvania. Once again, as in the early campaign against Ford, victory seemed all but certain. Once again, just as he had seen that huge campaign margin vanish, Carter could not pin down the 270 electoral votes needed to move him into the White House.

For hour after hour the uncertainty continued. Even after midnight, Eastern Standard Time, the division hovered uncannily close in New York, Illinois, Michigan, Ohio, Iowa, Virginia, Maine, Mississippi, Hawaii, New Mexico.

But while an anxious nation watched its television screens, the supremely confident Carter knew the way his personal winds were blowing. He awaited the returns in a starkly modern three-room suite in Atlanta's Omni Hotel--a posh setting that contrasted with the humble accommodations, often at the homes of supporters, that he had used as he began his once lonely campaign 22 months ago. At 11 p.m. he placed a call to Massachusetts' Congressman Tip O'Neill, who is in line to become Speaker of the House. In his soft drawl Carter said: "Tip, I feel confident now that I'm going to be elected. I just want you to know that I will be able to work with you and the members of Congress, and we'll get along great together." Already, Carter was thinking ahead to the task that he will face as he picks up the reins of Government. The long years of a divided Washington, with a Republican President split off from a Democratic Congress, were about to end.

During the long night of vote watching, Carter sat, coatless, his tie loosened, eyes on the TV screens. He also spoke by telephone with AFL-CIO Chief George Meany, New York Mayor Abe Beame, Chicago Mayor Richard Daley, Minnesota Senator Hubert Humphrey and a nearly forgotten Democratic vice-presidential candidate, Tom Eagleton. He talked to Philadelphia Mayor Frank Rizzo, whom he had once scorned as one of the "political bosses" to whom he owed nothing. "I really appreciate what you did for me," he told Rizzo, referring to the breakthrough victory in Pennsylvania.

Slowly through the early morning. Carter picked up the states he needed. One early network projection tossed New York's juicy 41 electoral votes into the Carter column. By many counts, it was Mississippi that finally sealed the end of eight years of Republican rule.

As of Wednesday afternoon, Carter could be certain of only a 56-vote electoral margin. He had won 23 states and the District of Columbia--297 electoral votes. Ford had won 27 states with 241 votes. In no fewer than seven states the electoral winner was determined by roughly 1% of the votes. Carter's popular vote edge was more substantial. In actual votes, Carter won by almost 2 million, or 51% to Ford's 48%, greater than the bare victories of either Jack Kennedy in 1960 (49.7%) or Richard Nixon in 1968 (43.4%).

After acknowledging his victory in Atlanta, Carter and his family headed for Albany, Ga., aboard "Peanut One." He carried sleepy Daughter Amy into a car for their return to Plains. Even at dawn, some 400 townspeople awaited him. "I told you I didn't intend to lose," Carter said. Then, for the first time during the up-and-down campaign, his composure broke. He bit his lip, fought back tears, while most of his family wept. As the crowd cheered, then grew quiet, Carter conceded: "The only reason it was close was that I as a candidate was not good enough as a campaigner. But I'll make up for that as President."

Thus the born-again Georgian with the ready smile had become the first Deep Southerner to reach the White House since Zachary Taylor in 1849. His rocket rise out of relative obscurity to the Oval Office heights was one of the most sensational political success stories in U.S. history. Yet he had done it in such a sometimes brilliant, often halting, and finally narrow manner as to convey no commanding mandate for his campaign promises or any demonstrated confidence in his still disquieting personality.

In one sense Carter had won in a year in which nearly any respectable Democrat should have triumphed. While Gerald Ford could hardly be held accountable, the Republicans had presided over a lingering end to the Viet Nam War, had both produced and been victimized by the nation's worst political scandal, had seen their party's President and Vice President resign in disgrace, and had held office during the deepest postwar recession. Ford had pardoned the man who appointed him.

It was thus a tribute to Ford's astonishing persistence, his own achievements in helping to pull his party out of the quagmire he had inherited, and his own basic decency that he ran as close a race as he did. It was also a measure of the nation's doubts about Carter that the race was so close.

Carter won because a majority of the voters wanted a Democrat in the White House after eight years of Republican Administration. But the election was close largely because so many voters were worried about taking a chance on Carter. After all of the national debates, after all the articles about his life and policies, the people still felt that there was some unexposed dimension about him. Says Public Opinion Analyst Daniel Yankelovich: "In the preWatergate, pre-Viet Nam era, the people were more willing to take a chance. Now they have indeed taken that chance, but by the slimmest of margins--and with enormous reservations."

The small majority of voters apparently were ready to wager on the good qualities they see in Carter, as against the mysteries they still find in his personality. Clearly, when they finally made up their minds in one of the most indecisive voting moods in modern times, they based their choice on the potential of Carter rather than on the relatively predictable, limited Ford they know.

Carter hardly had a mandate for sweeping change. His victory was very regional and based largely on social and economic class. He was supported by the blacks, by low-income earners, by the poorly educated and others who felt that they were hurting.

As it turned out, Carter, who said he did not want to be beholden to any interest groups, has a few debts to pay off. Labor unions worked feverishly to turn out votes for him, and could claim that their efforts were critical in Pennsylvania, Texas and Ohio. If there was any other one group to which Carter owed a great deal, it was the blacks. Four out of five blacks voted for the Georgian, and they apparently made the difference for him in New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Louisiana and Mississippi.

Despite fears among Democrats that the quixotic independent candidacy of former Senator Eugene McCarthy might drain enough votes away from Carter to cost him some key states--and perhaps the election --the Minnesota maverick proved mostly an irrelevant irritant. His votes in Washington, Ohio, Oregon and Illinois prolonged the suspense. Overall, McCarthy marshaled only a minuscule 1%. The would-be spoiler was mostly a washout.

In general, Democrats who ran for Congress fared better than Carter; many of the winners piled up larger majorities in their states than the man at the top of the ticket. The Republicans won some seats in both houses, but they still failed in their all-out drive to whittle the Democrats' commanding majorities. On Wednesday afternoon it appeared that the Senate would have 62 Democrats and 38 Republicans--the same as before. And the House would also have close to the same makeup--290 Democrats to 145 Republicans, exactly a 2-to-1 split, as in the last Congress. The continuing huge majority of Democrats in the House was remarkable, considering that many party freshmen had been elected in reaction to Watergate two years ago and seemed vulnerable this time.

Now, with both the White House and the Congress in control of the same party, there will be a new opportunity for the two branches of Government to work together. But since so few Senators or Congressmen rode on Carter's coattails --indeed, in some cases it was the other way around--the new President's traditional honeymoon with Congress may be fairly brief and subdued.

Whether Carter's promise of a highly productive first term will be realized may well hinge on his still unknown facility for compromise when his own proposals meet inevitable resistance, even from a legislature dominated by his own party. A President determined to exert strong leadership could have difficulties, particularly with an essentially disparate and un- manageable Congress of 535 legislators.

In his moment of victory, Carter seemed well aware of the need to reach out to unify all political elements in the nation. He was gracious to his defeated foe. Despite the sometimes bitter flavor of the campaign, right down to its closing moments, Carter told a joyous crowd of some 35,000 celebrating supporters in Atlanta's World Congress Center that Ford had been "the toughest and most formidable opponent anyone could possibly have." He praised the President for a "thoroughly organized and hard-fought" campaign and reiterated that Gerald Ford is a "good and decent man." Pledging to "unify our nation," Carter symbolically clenched his fist and held it high. "I pray that I can always live up to your confidence and never disappoint you," he said near the conclusion of his arduous campaign. Since the nation had exhibited a divided and tentative confidence in Carter and its expectations are not notably high, his prayer may not be all too difficult to fulfill.

The final hours were exhilarating for Carter. After sinking so fast in the polls, he would have faced political oblivion --and an embittered Democratic Party --if he had lost. Instead, Carter seemed to pull his erratic campaign together in its closing days.

Even as the Gallup poll taken last weekend showed that his lead had evaporated and Ford had edged ahead by a statistically insignificant 1%, Carter's final appearances as he raced to Los Angeles, Fort Worth, Dallas, San Francisco and Flint, Mich., drew rousing, cheering crowds. He responded with some of his most effective, eloquent oratory since the campaign had begun. Even some last-minute Ford campaign ads attacking Carter's record as Governor of Georgia and misrepresenting his position on taxes failed to maintain the momentum that the President had been building.

Ford, too, reached new heights of spirit and crowd appeal in the last days of the long campaign, though he had to nurse his ailing throat with everything from cough lozenges to hot chicken soup. As he pleaded with a large audience in Philadelphia to "confirm me with your votes now just as you confirmed me with your prayers in August of 1974," Ford visibly impressed his listeners. On election eve, the President flew back to Grand Rapids to vote. Perhaps it was the emotion welling up from the huge welcoming throng, perhaps it was the memories of his youth, but when he spoke to the crowd about his parents, he was near tears and his voice cracked. "Everything I have," said he, "I owe to Gerald R. Ford Sr. [long pause] and Dorothy Ford."

The next night, back in the White House, the President kept his emotions in check and his thoughts closely guarded. He watched the returns from the second-floor living room and den, sipping drinks and dining on a buffet of beef stroganoff, seafood creole, fresh fruit and pastries. Surrounded by his family and a few friends, he exhibited outer confidence. Yet the mood of the gathering was apprehensive. After 3 a.m., before the latest return had gone sour and Carter had congratulated him for a superb campaign, the man who had come so heartbreakingly close went to sleep without conceding his loss. His aides insisted he still thought he had a chance to win. The concession was to come the next day.

Given his own limitations, plus the heavy baggage that the Republicans have had to carry since Watergate, Jerry Ford could hardly have done better. He will turn over to Carter the leadership of a nation that is far, far stronger politically and economically than when Ford inherited a discredited presidency from Nixon. Carter begins not only with that advantage but also, as an outsider, he is free of many heavy ob- ligations to special groups. He is fettered only by the growing awareness of the limitations of Government, and he promises to make it more "efficient" and "compassionate."

More than Ford, Carter is open to new ideas, to taking a fresh look at old problems. The President-elect has often said that he holds a conservative respect for personal initiative and fiscal prudence, as well as a liberal dedication to helping those left behind in a competitive society. In an election characterized less by apathy than by indecision, that may well be what the voters are saying they want in a President.

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