In R.I., a Feisty Conservative Challenges Sen. Chafee

"I'm trying to figure out exactly what is the issue. It might be Chafee, but Chafee's doing his best to make it Laffey," said Jennifer Duffy, who tracks Senate races for the nonpartisan Cook Political Report.

When Laffey entered the race a year ago, he was dismissed as a novelty act. His campaigning style matched his personality: colorful and in-your-face. He stood on street corners during the morning rush hour, waving a huge blue-and-yellow sign announcing "I'm Laffey." He bought a recreational vehicle and covered it with campaign stickers. The vehicle serves as a mobile campaign headquarters, and it trails along as Laffey goes from door to door on his daily neighborhood "blitzes."

After running a midsize investment firm in Memphis, Laffey returned to Cranston and contemplated his next move. One of the people who gave him advice was Chafee, who had been appointed to the Senate after his father died in 1999, after serving as mayor of Warwick, the city next door. He urged Laffey to take on Cranston. "I told him it's a very rewarding job and that his town needed him," Chafee recalled.

Laffey won in November 2002. When he took office, the city had the lowest bond rating in the country and was in danger of missing payroll. Even the mayor's critics concede that his turnaround of Cranston was impressive, although some of residents still complain about the tax increases.

What Laffey learned as mayor was that he was good at changing minds. His campaign literature reminds voters that he convinced a Democratic city council to approve steep budget cuts and powerful local unions to renegotiate contracts.

"I had to use the bully pulpit, hold a lot of meetings," Laffey said. "I'm a businessman. When I see a problem, I want to solve it."

Chafee is campaigning hard, with his career on the line. He agreed to four debates with Laffey and has adopted a gentle but defiant tone when responding to his feisty opponent. His latest ad is a hard-hitting compilation of Laffey encounters, including a brawl with Cranston firefighters and a showdown with a woman who complained that her taxes had gone up.

"He mocked her, saying he'd foreclose on her home if she didn't pay up," the announcer deadpans. "Do you want Steve Laffey speaking for you in the U.S. Senate?"

Last Saturday, Chafee spent the morning greeting beachgoers en route to Newport and then headed to a Pawtucket Greek festival, where he stopped at every table in three large tents. He drew a broad smile from Kosta Bitsis, a local contractor. "I appreciate that he doesn't vote with party lines," Bitsis said. "It takes courage to do that."

But Coventry is Laffey territory. Although many of the town's middle-class residents are registered as independents, Laffey describes them as Reagan Democrats who share his pragmatism and frustration with the status quo. "I know all about you," Judith Gregory announced when she answered the door. "And if you want to put a sign in my front yard, you go right ahead."